#jaime and his weird i can fix her thing too

[uluthrek]

lannicest is such a top tier ship though because they are the absolute originators of weird incest. no one does circular family trees quite like these two weirdos. all other incest ships are like “oh god, we shouldn’t do this, i can’t, oh god, you’re my brother!” and then they slip up and feel horrible about it or they don’t even know they’re related and find out later and are subsequently completely horrified and that’s all fine and dandy, to each their own, but you just gotta respect how nonchalant cersaime are about the inbreeding they’ve got going on. like yes, i’ll call you brother during sex and i’m gonna waterboard a nun while telling her how good it feels to have your genetically familiar dick inside of me. the fact that we’re twins makes it even better. we’re so fucked up that it’s rubbing off on pur younger brother who wants to fuck both of us. when you’re not around i’ll make do and sleep with our cousin because i can’t handle dick that isn’t at least on the adjacent branch of the family tree. you ask the woman you’re attracted to if she’s a lannister during one of your less unromantic interactions and while she interprets it as an insult, we both know what you mean. we’re what would have happened to the ashford twins if capcom had walked the mile and committed to making code veronica even more uncomfortable. they’re absolutely fucking unmatched in just how weird they are. no one does it like them. absolute hats off to grrm for committing to making them capital h horrible. i’d kill for both of them.

[pandolfo-malatesta]

...“but on his way back to Riverrun he left his tail and went off with a woman.”

Once they’re spotted making for the camp calls ring out to herald their arrival.  “She’s back!  She’s brought him.”  There is no welcome in the calls, no comradely greeting; instead the words lift like snouts scenting blood.  “The lovers!” someone chortles, and he is upon a plodding horse again, pressed against her, can smell the ghost of his rotting hand.  “The Kingslayer and his whore!”  Upon hearing that she makes a choked noise.

He bristles, though not at the epithet so often flung against him.  Why would they call her, so obviously a chaste and honest maid, such a thing?—other than to mock her, to wound her, to humiliate her.  Her shoulders have crept high, her elbows drawn in; she is trying to make herself small enough to overlook.  His pulse quickens as he tries to make a fist of the hand he does not have.  Even if the golden hand cannot hold a sword, it can dispense retribution of its own.  Ronnet Connington has learned as much; if Jaime has the chance, these men will, too.

Anger at hearing her insulted because of him is expected.  Less so is the lightning bolt of desire, quick and pure and devastating, that the words send through him.  He shivers at it, even as shame fills him.

Wisdom would let the slander stand unanswered.  “My lady’s name is Brienne,” he warns, relieved that his voice is steady, if a bit loud in his own ears.  “And if ever I’d had her, I would remember it.”  He doesn’t need to glance over to know that her flush has deepened, darkened.

As they rein in their horses, men swarm them.  Rough hands drag them from their saddles; they jerk his arms back and wind a rope around his elbows, rip his sword belt free.  He notices that they leave Brienne’s hands loose.  Ice spikes through his veins as he realizes that they aren’t afraid of what she may do to them.  If they aren’t afraid of her, injured though she is, they can’t be afraid of him, and his bonds are meant to show him his place here.

His heart sinks as their captors herd them toward a hole in the rock.  They duck into a cavern, dotted here and there with fires that cast weird shadows onto the walls.  Men mill about the place, all of them with metal glinting somewhere about them: a long knife in a belt, an axe within arm’s reach.  Their attention is fixed on the new arrivals.  Whatever brought Brienne and him here, they have little hope of an easy exit from this place.

There is a gurgling, rattling noise, the like of which he’s never heard and that can only bode ill.  Then, as if translating that hideous rasp, a northern voice calls, “Get him on his knees!”

As they force him to the ground Brienne struggles against the hands restraining her, though without much conviction.  “I would see them first,” she demands, sounding not as firm as she would probably like.  He follows her gaze to see that she is addressing a ghoul in grey.  The figure is strangely familiar: something in its erect bearing, in the matted auburn hair.  

Yet more captives shuffle out—neither of them a highborn lady of three-and-ten; just a boy and a hedge knight, both of them bruised and unremarkable in every way, though the latter eyes him with unconcealed disgust and the former looks fit to cry at the sight of her—and Jaime reckons he knows why he’s here.  Even so, he huffs out a laugh.  She glances sharply at him.  “I’m only worth two lives to you?” he murmurs lightly.  “You wound me, wench.”

“Jaime,” she keens, just at the edge of his hearing, and his slight smile disappears.  He must spare her from this.

He surveys the motley assemblage, ending with the ghoul.  “Who commands this?” he asks in the voice of the lord commander.  “At whose order am I to die?”

The redheaded ghoul hacks and sputters and the northman says, “Your own hand signed your death warrant.”  Jaime raises an eyebrow—would raise his golden hand, no longer good for signing anything, if he could.  “You have broken faith with my lady.”

He shrugs.  “More fool her, to be surprised by it.”

Brienne tries to stride forward.  “Let him live, please, my lady.  We are sworn to find your daughter, and we will, together.”  He will remember the warble of her “please” for the rest of his life, be it five minutes longer or five decades.  To have such a one as Brienne of Tarth—protector of innocents, loyalty made flesh, the finest knight in Westeros but for the chance of her birth—plead for his life humbles him.

The northern youth shakes his head.  “Lady Stoneheart spared your life, and theirs.”  He gestures to the captives.  “The Kingslayer must die.  Keep your word and prove yourself true.”

Jaime nearly laughs at that, his eyes narrowing.  Brienne has proven herself true time and again, across miles and months, through blood shed and sheer stubbornness.  What she has never been is a skilled liar, so that something is amiss has been obvious from the moment she returned to him.  Her eyes have been turned from him, never meeting his gaze; her speech has been unusually shy.  He’d expected perhaps to have to fight for Sansa Stark, side by side with Brienne.  He’s known for ages that he might die with her, though not like this.  The men holding her let go, none too gently; one shoves a sword into her hands, and for a moment she looks down at it as if she’s never held a weapon before.  Then she pulls Oathkeeper from its scabbard and pivots to face him.

Jaime Lannister’s lot in life, it seems, is to kneel before one woman or another.  First Cersei, then Catelyn Stark, who has become an eldritch creature who wants him dead; and now it will end with him on his knees before Brienne, the Maid of Tarth.  For so long he’s thought that he would die in battle, on his feet or astride a horse with a sword in his hand; he finds he doesn’t mind being at Brienne’s feet.  He only hopes she won’t blame herself too much, afterward.

He looks up at her and smiles.  It’s not the expression he’d like to wear, an insouciant smirk in the face of the Stranger; it’s softer, fitting for the woman who has planed away his carefully constructed self-conceit.

“Go away inside,” she whispers; he isn’t sure if it’s to herself or him that she speaks.  He won’t do it, not this time, not in their last moments together.

He’s never been afraid of death, but with the hour at hand he finds himself reluctant.  “Brienne,” he says. The glistening of her eyes is more precious than any gemstone.  Would that he had knelt before her in peaceful times.  “I trust you.”  With his life, and now with his death.  It will be quick—she will make sure of it.  Her sword is sharp, her arm strong.  He, at least, will not suffer.

Though her expression does not lighten she straightens, drawing her shoulders back and her head high.  In her eyes he sees rekindled that defiant spark, and bites back a grin.  Her fingers tighten around Oathkeeper’s hilt.  “Jaime,” she says, “you—”

As if possessed, the hedge knight bursts from where he’s been standing and barrels toward the undead Catelyn Stark.  All eyes turn to him, including Brienne’s; surely Jaime isn’t the only one to see the northman pull his dagger and aim it at the knight’s gut.  The knight himself sees and dives forward, under the dagger and at the northman’s knees.  The two tumble down and Catelyn—Lady Stoneheart—stumbles back, hissing.  While Jaime considers staggering to his feet Brienne whirls away from him, crossing to where the two men grapple in the dirt and, in one stroke, separating Lady Stoneheart’s head from her body.

As the blow is struck all sound is sucked out of the cavern, and the fires extinguish.  With ears ringing and eyes wide, he wonders if he’s died, if someone has finished the job for Brienne.  Then, dead or alive, he hauls himself to his feet.

Across the cavern—or maybe nearer than he can tell—there is a faint glow, a pale wriggle of movement in the air.  With his luck it will be some creature that thrives in darkness come to feast on human flesh; or maybe it is merely madness taking hold, his mind so starved for light, even after just these few moments, that it has imagined itself a source.  The sweep of it to and fro through the black is entrancing; streams of light linger in the air, making it hard to discern the thing’s shape.  But now he can see that its light is blue, and that it seems to be searching for something.  Strange though it is, the light does not alarm him as it approaches—except when it now and then disappears.  Its blue is kindly, comforting, and he stands straight and still, ready to welcome it.

When the light reaches him it is enough to illuminate its immediate surroundings.  A band around his chest loosens with the darkness pushed back.  Now he can see that the glow comes from a sword, and can’t imagine why he didn’t recognize it earlier.  He’s been here before: in a dream with Brienne lighting his darkness.

A hand he knows extends toward him.  The fingers run from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck, then across his throat, pausing at his pulse point to feel the thrum of blood there.  Her hand splays against his chest, drags down toward his stomach; his breath catches at the warm press of it as she ensures that he is uninjured.  I am well, he wants to tell her, and wants to ask if she is, but doesn’t know if his voice will work or if the sorcery surrounding them will leave him mute.

And then she touches his face: the faintest brush of fingertips against his cheek.  For neither the first time nor the last Jaime is helpless before her, helpless without her.  He closes his eyes, none the blinder for it, until she takes her hand away.

Then she is cutting through his bonds, propping the half-dead hedge knight halfway onto Jaime’s shoulder, and leading them and the boy out of the cavern.  They emerge, squinting, into daylight.  In the light the sword is as ordinary as it’s ever been; in the light so is she.  He takes her hand in his, and takes up his place beside her.

[returnofahsoka]

first time i'm hearing about a droid or a nephew-slash-jedi padawan 👀👀👀

they are both pretty new additions!! thank you for asking!! i have some art of them i'll add later, i just have to find them in my sketchbook

bee is a b1 battle droid, who were all decomissioned by the empire once they were not needed. except this guy was kinda already malfunctioning so they didn't even bother to take him to be disassembled, just left him there in a back alley. that's where aid finds him and at first wants to see if he can take any useful parts. except bee's still working and aid knows the empire disposed of all battle droids, just like how they are now planning to get rid of the clones. add that to the fact that he's alone and depressed and feels lost because shit went down and they went separate ways with ro and then even more shit went down and he's alone. so fuck it. he drags this battle droid home to the ship and mechanics has been his coping mechanism for a while now anyway and he ran out of things to fix on the ship. so. he fixes him up and names him bee, and that's how the found family grows by one. bee's very loyal and maybe sometimes he's a little slow but aid and ro, once she returns, are fond of him all the same. he's curious about the world and about the things he didn't get to experience as a disposable weapon in the separatist army (which yeah, aid can kinda relate to). he's often uninentionally funny and doesn't always get how organics function, understands even less about ro's jedi hijincks, but he tries because he considers it his duty to help these two weird humans topple the empire and hopefully survive too

our nephew-slash-jedi padawan is an 11 y/o nautolan kid called jaime sio who ro stumbles into after the empire's fall (or rather, jaime stumbles into aid's repair workshop bcos his droid needs a new energy cell and ro is just there hanging out, but that's beside the point). jaime lost his family to the empire and fled with a group of fellow refugees to a new planet. when he becomes ro's padawan, she basically also adopts him, and that kinda sorta makes him aid's nephew. and. gosh, i've been thinking about this kid a lot lately. about how ro probably sees herself in him before the war and how he probably helps aid out at the shop more and more as he gets older and how he still sees dead bodies floating on water in his dreams and how he lost everything like they had and how they probably stay up with him at night and watch holos and how he learns to meditate and to make connections and to fight against the remnants of the empire and to heal and to fix broken things and how sometimes they train at the shore because ro tries to adapt to her padawan or sometimes they straight up just have a beach day because there are still risks but it's safer now to just be and to just exist than it has been his whole life and how he probably finds his kyber crystal in some sunken temple underwater and how he probably plays dejarik against bee and how he fits in here like he was probably always meant to. anyways, i love jaime, i love that they are his family now

[ragingstillness]

A pure Ted Lasso AU to offset my criminal AU:

(Very very very loosely based off of the manhwa stack overflow)

For fun and partially for PR Jamie agrees to test out this new VR game. It’s kind of just this open world exploration thing. During the test the building is struck by lightning and while everyone is alright, Jamie gains this weird sort of HUD filter over his daily life.

He freaks out at first and goes straight to the company who made the game. They freak out too and immediately agree to try and fix it but it’ll take a while so for a bit Jamie’s just kind of gonna have to live with it.

He wakes up in the morning and skips breakfast. He’s doing drills all throughout lunch and when everyone else goes for a break he keeps working on his right cross and misses that too. He’s in the locker room later when suddenly his vision lights up red around the edges and words appear in front of his face: “HP dangerously low.”

Now Jamie’s played a lot of video games in his life so it doesn’t take him long to realize that he should try to replenish his health. He tries to stand up and go to the trainer but something invisible forces him to sit back down. The warning appears again. Jamie drinks some water. The red edged vision goes away but the warning remains. Eying it warily, Jamie eats a sandwich. A little bar appears that slowly grows as he eats until the warning is gone. Jamie mutters to himself “what am I a fucking Sim?”

After practice he goes over to Dani’s and they watch a movie together. Jamie shakes Dani’s hand to leave. Then his vision goes gold-edged and the message: Friendship advance to Level 2! appears. Jamie flushes and rushes out.

The next day Jamie talks to Will the kitman for the first time. He gets gold again but this time: New Friend! “Will the kitman” added to your list.

Roy shows up to talk to Jamie. Everything blurs until Jamie can only see Roy. The message appears over Roy’s head like a little halo: Encounter with Rival initiated.

Jamie’s getting the hang of all of this and thus far all it’s doing is embarrassing him.

Whenever he gets within a certain distance of Ted, the word “Dad” begins to float over Ted’s head. Jamie nearly starts sobbing the first time he sees it.

He narrowly misses bumping into his biological father after a game but his team backs him up and scares his dad off. Jamie is grateful but he’s even more focused on how his father’s label was “Low Level Boss: Abuser”

Jamie’s sessions with Dr. Sharon are now accompanied by her label: Healer and periodic messages like Achievement Unlocked: Breakthrough! or Mental Health +1

Training produces: Dodge, Run, Pass, Kick, Goal!

When Jamie invites Sam to join him and Dani for drinks: Sam added to the Party

Rupert tries to manipulate Jamie again: Error, you cannot add an NPC to your Party Jamie laughs his ass off.

Rebecca is Queen btw and Keeley is Beauty

Some other fun notifications Jamie gets:

Beauty is no longer a romancable character. Beauty added to the Friends list. (After the funeral and after Jaime apologizes to Roy)

Achievement Unlocked: Enemy of my Enemy - Rival has been added to the Friends list. (Post 2x08)

Dad has taken damage. Heal Dad? (Beginning of 2x12 when the team is ready to kill whoever leaked Ted’s panic attack)

[swordmaid]

the thing with Brienne too is that she's so important to the themes of morality and heroism that grrm focuses on - she's like Ned stark but with even more optimism at first, and later becomes almost a counterargument to what we take from his character imo. Yes believing in nobility and kindness can be naive and get people hurt, but when someone like Brienne embodies those virtues they can do a lot of good, just being a decent person, and its so weird to me that she's overlooked when those themes are like. the crux of the whole story

exactly! I wholly detest the idea that she’s just a character made to prop up a singular person. Though her story is very much intertwined with Jaime’s, Brienne has her own seperate narrative outside of Jaime, and acknowledging that + the fact that her story is linked with his in terms of similar themes and parallels SHOULD co-exist and isn’t like a brand new idea. Brienne’s has her own narrative that she is going through, and IS being written, so the idea that she’s just there to be Jaime’s LI, or to reunite the Starks and be their bodyguard, or to fix another morally wrong character, etc. just makes me so ???? like you know she has her own story right 😭😭 just say you don’t care about her and go 😭😭

[miazeklos]

The narrative of Jaime "breaking free" from Cersei is bad because it delegitimizes the experiences of mentally ill women (especially relating to relationships, sexuality, etc) and falls back on the good woman/bad woman dichotomy. I hate with the burning passion of a thousand suns the implication that he’s better off without Cersei because she’s “crazy,” which unfortunately seems to be how many fans view it. Mentally ill women are gaslighted and abandoned and taken advantage of by men all the time in the real world and it’s hugely harmful that Cersei, who’s the prime example of a mentally ill woman in ASOIAF, is treated the way she is by GRRM and the fandom. She’s damaged, as a result of the patriarchy, sexual assault, rape or other abuse by men.

There’s this quote which I think about when regarding relationships with mentally ill women, it’s by Anne Theriault, bolded mine:

“The Sexy Tragic Muse fetishizes women’s pain by portraying debilitating mental health disorders filtered dreamily through the male gaze. The trope glamourizes addiction and illnesses like depression, bipolar disorder, and schizophrenia – diseases that are distinctly unglamorous for those of us who live with them. The Sexy Tragic Muse is vulnerable, and her vulnerability is sexualized. Her inability to properly care for herself or make decisions on her own behalf is presented as being part of her appeal.

And perhaps this is the most frustrating thing about the Sexy Tragic Muse – the fact that this character type seems to be a neat way of removing a woman’s agency without the film or book or song coming across as overtly misogynistic. She occupies the intersection of ableism and sexism, and her mental illness is portrayed in a way that makes it commendable, even necessary, for others to care for her. We feel gratitude to the men that step up and save her, because she obviously cannot save herself. We feel empathy for the men that break up with her, because we see that she is difficult and volatile. We never get to see things from her perspective; often it is implied that this would be impossible, because her perspective is too confused and fractured.”

As a society, we’re conditioned to feel more empathy for Jaime than for Cersei because she’s the crazy bitch and he’s the proper man who’s doing the right thing for himself. And like, I really really really hate that we didn’t get Cersei’s perspective until she’s on her downward spiral because it’s not inherently misogynistic that we see her downfall so vividly but it just feels that way when comparing how GRRM writes Cersei compared to how he writes Jaime (or Tyrion and Tywin for that matter). Look at how Euripides wrote Medea.

This is a wonderfully apt quote, thank you for sharing it! And yes, this is literally it: part of what makes me mad about that whole thing (and also makes me as invested in Cersei as a character, since I identify with her in a lot of ways) is that people will do that to you allll the time IRL face to face if you're a specific brand of unstable. Explosively angry women with a plethora of only halfway concealable issues exist at a weird intersection of 'I can fix her' brand of men who think that their (obviously asked for and needed, duh) empathy (which is rarely that, tbh) will simply put you to rights and the anger of those same men when you tell them you're more than capable of caring for yourself without their help.

GRRM's decision to only include her POV when she's supposedly ~descending into madness~ (and even then, she's right about the majority of the things going on around her even if she's heavy-handed int he way she deals with them) can be fuelled by things others than misogyny, but to tell you the truth, I don't think it is.

There are times when I think he criticises that same treatment of such characters through Jaime's POV when he's being profoundly unfair to her in his own mind, but then I remember him writing his fave Tyrion talking about how 'all he wants' is to kill and rapе his sister' and GRRM saying that he needed a shower after writing her chapters or w/e and it's like.... yeah. Sentiments such as these are part of the reason why I dread the way he's going to write her ending and also why I was so profoundly pleased by her show ending. All I wanted for this character was to be allowed to have her end in dignity and I was astonished when it happened and that's all you need to know about how media usually handles characters like her.

As for Jaime and his supposed betterment through leaving her behind, I'll combine this answer with the one to another ask, because YES:

I am once again asking about the specific ways in which Cersei is worse than either of her brothers.

[mattatouile]

tension at a waffle house: 2AM

In the weeks to come, Jaime Lannister will think with frequent fondness of that Saturday night. When in the Waffle House at the corner of Riverrun Road and Maidenpool Boulevard, at two in the morning, his brother dropped a bomb on his life that changed everything. 

--

Jaime has never loved anything more than he loves this cheeseburger. This delicious, wonderful, juicy cheeseburger and fries. Gods, the fries. Crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, so salty they almost hurt his mouth. 

He’s savoring a nearly orgasmic mouthful of burger when a hand, an unwelcome but familiar hand, darts out and grabs a fry off his plate. Jaime glares at Brienne as he chews his burger menacingly in her direction. Her face is flushed, eyes glassy. She’s definitely more drunk than he is, but that’s no excuse for being a fry thief. 

“Get your own,” he says around his half-chewed food and uses his left arm to shelter the precious golden pile. 

“I already ate mine.” She tries to reach around him, so he angles his body to block her, but then her dishonorable hand reaches through the hole between his shoulder and forearm and snatches another fry from his plate. “Don’t be selfish.”

He shoves her with his shoulder against her own. She should know better than to touch a drunk Jaime’s food. Of course, in his state, he forgets that she’s actually as strong as him (she’s not stronger, no matter what she says, or how many arm wrestling matches she wins). Without preamble, they’re tussling with each other, their arms tangled up, Jaime fighting to protect his fries and Brienne battling just as hard for access. Somehow, they end up half-sprawled across the bench, Brienne on top of him. He licks her arm, simply because he knows she’ll recoil in horror and stop crushing him. 

As if they had rehearsed ahead of time, Brienne does squeal and jerk away. She wipes her arm off on his shirt while Jaime struggles to sit up with a riot of laughter directed at them from the other side of the table. He glares across the table at his brother Tyrion and Tyrion’s best friend, Bronn. Neither of them were in danger of losing the most important thing in the world. They shouldn’t be so free with thir mockery. 

Brienne grabs him by the elbow and hauls him back up. “I’m taking another fry in payment.” 

Before he can stop her, she’s already got it in her mouth. He glares even harder at her, but all she does is smile at him in response. 

“Pay up.” 

Jaime looks over the table to find Bronn holding out his hand to Tyrion, palm up. Tyrion grumbles but presses a -- shockingly large -- wad of cash into Bronn’s waiting hand. 

“What’s going on?” Jaime glances at Brienne long enough for her to shrug in mutual confusion. 

“You two finally fucked.” Bronn says it as if -- as if saying the sun is bright and the sea is water. 

But that doesn’t -- it doesn’t make sense. Because he’s him and Brienne is Brienne and so. 

“No, we didn’t,” he says, and looks at Brienne again, just to -- he doesn’t know, make sure he didn’t forget or miss something.

“Then explain this.” Bronn gestures lazily between the two of them. 

“We’re . . . friends?” Jaime says slowly, not really meaning it to be a question, but Bronn snorts. Snorts! Jaime turns to Brienne. “A little help here?”

“We’re not sleeping together,” Brienne says, flat in that way she has when she’s uncomfortable.

Jaime glares at Tyrion as if to say, ‘you see what he’s done to Brienne? Fix it!’ Tyrion, as always, totally misses the point and is patently unhelpful.

Bronn shrugs. “If you’re not fucking, then you must have fucked at least once.” 

Jaime kind of wants to punch Bronn in the face. Hard. More than once. 

“We’re best friends,” Jaime says, voice low and (hopefully) dangerous. 

Bronn looks at Tyrion with a raised eyebrow and Tyrion dutifully chimes in with, “You’ve spent the past seven years bickering and arguing, half the time it’s bad enough you go days without speaking -- and you live in the same apartment. You nearly pointedly do not touch each other unless it’s to punch an arm or shove the other in frustration. Now, tonight, you’re suddenly handsy, playful, wrestling and licking. As Bronn so eloquently put it, you fucked.” 

It’s like having a beer bottle shattered over his head (an experience he’s had multiple times). Jaime’s never really stopped to think about how his relationship with Brienne seems from the outside. They’re best friends. Sure, they drive each other crazy, but . . . they always have. Brienne is his best bro, his favorite buddy, the only person he would ever consider living with. Sure, he and Brienne aren’t exactly cuddly, but that’s only because it would be . . . weird. It would be weird. He also doesn’t cuddle with Addam and no one gives him grief for that. 

He’s just staring, trying desperately to form some sort of rebuttal that will be more convincing than the outright denials they’ve both offered already when Brienne pushes against him, moving him across the bench. 

“I need the bathroom,” she murmurs, not looking directly at anyone at the table. Jaime slides out and lets her out, watching after her as she walks stiff-shouldered to the hallway on the other end of the restaurant.

He sits back down and glares at them both. “You’re assholes.” They nearly look smug. “If either of you bring this up ever again, I’ll pull your intestines out through your mouths.”

“Well, that’s certainly convincing,” Tyrion deadpans.

“I’m not kidding,” Jaime says sharply. “Don’t fuck with Brienne. You upset her, and she doesn’t deserve yours and Bronn’s bullshit. She’s not like us.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means she’s better than us; she certainly deserves better than this.”

“I take it back, you haven’t fucked her,” Tyrion says. “You’ve fallen in love with her.”

Tyrion may as well have punched him right in the solar plexus. “Fuck you, Tyrion.” He means it to come out jovially, but judging by the shift in Tyrion’s expression, he failed miserably. He’s nearly relieved at the sight of Brienne coming out of the bathroom, standing to meet her. She blinks, a question in the furrowing of her brows. “You ready to head out?”

She looks uncertain, glancing between Jaime, Tyrion and Bronn, clearly confused about the different tension from when she left. “Sure?”

“Good.” Jaime reaches across the bench and holds her jacket out to her, throwing too much money on the table while she shrugs it on. “I’ll talk to you later,” he tells Tyrion, offers Bronn nothing, and leads the way out of the Waffle House.

[janiedean]

PLEASE tell me about sam >> the world and the rock band au.

OKAY SO:

 sam >>> the world was... originally a thing I wrote for an exchange which then I scrapped bc it got too long and I never finished it, but basically the concept was jon gets robb’s will before he’s elected LC and he accepts being kitn except he goes to sam like PLEASE SAM BE MY HAND OR I CAN’T DO THIS, and then sam was going to proceed on solving Each Single Problem Jon Could Have starting from being friends with theon to finding sansa in the vale to finding arya and sandor to basically really solving everything and it was gonna be jon/sam but eeeeh I quit when sandor showed up bc I lost track of the plot T_T HOWEVER, I WOULD LIKE TO FIND AND QUOTE YOU A BIT WHERE BASICALLY SAM DRAGGED THEON WITH HIM TO THE VALE BC HE WAS SURE THEY’D KILL HIM OTHERWISE WHERE THEON RECOGNIZED SANSA AND TOLD SAM IT WAS HER WHICH IS2G WHEN DND HAD THE SAME THING HAPPEN WITH POD AND BRIENNE IN S5 I SCREAMED BECAUSE I WROTE THIS SHIT IN 2013 OR 2014 AND I SAID WHAT I SAID

“Go, go,” Baelish says, and he looks pale as a sheet as well. At least he didn’t have anything witty to say, Sam thinks before grabbing Theon’s arm and leading him outside the room.

“Stop,” Theon tells him a moment later. “I don’t – I just need some air. I don’t think – I won’t.”

“All right,” Sam agrees before leading him towards a half-open window in the hallway.

“I’m sorry,” he says as Theon takes deep, heavy breaths.

“For what?”

“I didn’t even – how did you know?”

“Don’t you think that Ramsay Bolton would have spared me the details?” Theon whispers. “I threw up. Then. And he – he also threw at me handfuls of red hair covered in blood. I told you I could play along.”

Sam thinks that he’s going to be sick.

“But – I need you to listen to me,” Theon whispers then, his voice still shaking, as if he’s forcing himself to say what he’s about to say.

“What?”

“The Lord Protector’s daughter.”

“Yes, what about her?”

“That’s no bastard. She’s Sansa Stark.”

For a moment, Sam is sure he’s heard wrong.

“She’s who?”

“Sansa. She dyed her hair and she’s older than – well, the last time I saw her, but I lived at Winterfell for nine years. Do you think I wouldn’t recognize her?”

And it does make sense. Sansa disappeared from King’s Landing when Baelish went to the Vale, didn’t she? Sam is pretty sure of that.

“And – you saw her when I was telling that story. She looked sick. As much as I felt.”

Oh gods be good. He’s right. Sam wonders how a simple mission suddenly turned out complicated – and if Theon hadn’t been there he wouldn’t have even known, would he?

He thinks about his options.

And then he hopes that he still has some courage left and that he hadn’t exhausted it when he killed an Other.

“All right,” he whispers. “I have no idea of why she’s here, but if she wants to come with… do you think you have it in yourself to go down the mountain twice in one day?”

Theon goes pale all over again. Sam had noticed that he could barely keep his eyes open the first time.

“What’s the plan?” he asks.

“I’m asking her. If it’s true, and if she’s here against her will… well, I already know I’m not getting Baelish’s men. And I’m sure that if I came back with his sister Jon – I mean –”

“You don’t need to call him His Grace,” Theon says, and he sounds almost amused. Barely. As much as someone like him can sound amused. “I couldn’t call Robb like that either.”

“Fine. Jon would like that better than an army, I think. So, do you think you can do it?”

Theon shakes his head again and then looks up at him. “I don’t think that I’d ever want to do it again, but just the fact that you asked first makes me think that I can try it.”

Well then, Sam thinks, that’s settled.

like excuse me but what the fuck

rock band au: okay so I had written this rock band au for jonc/brynden for that last prompt meme I took which I should finish one of these days but like then I was doing this chalenge and I ended up writing a sequel for it where they’re touring with theon who’s like the opening solo act for their band and him and jaime argue in the changing room also theon is with robb who’s the long suffering agent and theon wants jaime to hit on brienne who’s like going to all the concerts and it’s actually finished but I really need to revise it and see if I can put it together with the other one, at the end of it theon and robb had a moment™ backstage while jaime and brienne got together post-concert but here have a snipped or more:

“You know that girl that always is in first row, Lannister?”

“I do, Greyjoy. I very well damn do, and is there a reason you’re gloating at me now?”

“Just saying,” Theon says, and Jaime thinks, don’t finish that sentence, don’t finish that sentence, don't finish that sentence, “that while the time for groupies is over, I mean, supposedly so, considering that you invite her backstage every other moment and that she’s been at each single show of this tour, maybe you could invite her.”

“Can it,” Jaime groans, “no way. I’m not —”

“And why not? Come on, I’ve opened for your band for the entire last month, we drove through half of this bloody fucking country and I know for sure that you’re the only person in it that’s not getting any, and seeing your pretty face, it’s honestly baffling.”

“And since when do you care about how much I’m getting? Are you volunteering?”

Theon laughs, dark hair falling all over his shoulders as he fixes his leather trousers in front of their shared changing room — yes, this venue is so shitty that they have to share rooms in between bands, and fine, Theon’s technically a solo act but he does have a band, and he hopes the others are not being too cramped because their room is so small they can’t even change at the same time. He nods, pleased with his hair, definitely, and then goes to grab a black shirt from his bag and puts it on without closing it. Guess this is the night where he plays with his shirt open making sure his poor manager dies of frustration.

Robb Stark is a saint, Jaime thinks sometimes, because to manage this guy, you really need to have an insane amount of patience.

Good thing that they never needed one and Jon always took care of it, but still.

“I mean,” Theon says, “in the ideal world, I would, but alas, I know that it’s not meant to be. For one, I’m not your Kinsey scale one —”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“What, that you’re a one or that I’m not it?”

“Both, for —”

“I mean,” Theon goes on, “you obviously aren’t a zero or you wouldn’t stare at your bassist’s ass, and honestly also at your guitarist’s, and I wouldn’t exclude, you know, that you three might have had a go at it at some point —”

“That never happened!” Jaime protests, not that he hasn’t entertained that thought once or twice, but still, he doesn’t bat for that team, as a general rule. He just hates that Theon has apparently figured him out that easily.

“Regardless,” Theon goes on, “you’re a one, but if those two are your type, considering they’re both older than you and ginger and blue eyed and I’m not either of that, I think I’m not it. Also, no way you like pitching.”

+ throbb snippet

“So,” Theon says, as he drags Robb towards the back exit, “I might have told Lannister that I’d leave him the changing room for the night.”

“… What,” Robb says, following even if he’s trying to slow him down, “he finally decided to fess up to that poor girl?”

“Oh, that’s to be seen, I just gave him the chance to,” Theon shrugs, “which is why we’re taking a cab and going to the hotel at once.”

“Wait,” Robb says, “we should —”

He never finishes the sentence because Theon presses him against the wall and kisses him and fucking hell, Robb would like to just give in and let him and actually he would like to grab Theon’s shoulders and press him against the fucking wall, except —

“We should wait until the Kingsguard is done,” he breathes, “you agreed to sign those records, but it has to be with them. And people paid for it.”

“Oh, of course, ever the correct person —”

“Theon, I’m your fucking manager, you picked me, it’s not like you can exactly skirt around — obligations,” he groans when Theon sucks a bruise into his neck.

“Right, right, so you’d rather stay here and wait two hours instead of running to the hotel with me? We could make it, you know, if Jimmy Page and Robert Plant could —”

“It’s not the fucking seventies,” Robb groans, wishing Theon would just not press, even if fuck but now he really feels like he’s going to come in his trousers like a fifteen year-old and the fact that he’s definitely been wanting to kiss Theon at least since then is not helping, and yet —

“Really? I missed that memo.”

+ jb snippet

“Sure,” she says, reaching out to grab it, and then she swallows — “You know,” she said, “you sounded… more intense today.”

“Did I,” he says. “How?”

She shrugs, her large shoulders barely slimmed by the black band shirt sporting his face that she’s wearing, and fuck if it was weird being the face of the merchandise, except that it had to happen.

Fucking Targaryen.

“I’m not quite sure,” she says, “just… there was a difference? In the good sense, though. You felt… more immersed, not to say that you’re not usually, it’s just… I don’t know, I felt like crying more than once.”

Oh.

Well.

“Maybe,” he sighs, “I had a conversation with Greyjoy before that made me realize a few things,” he goes on. “I suppose. I don’t know,” he shakes his head, “I just… you’ve been listening to us since before Rhaegar fucked off, and I just — I guess it just sank in that I’m not going back to my former job anytime soon.”

“Can — can I say I’m not sad that you aren’t?”

“You can,” Jaime shrugs, “it’s just, it felt a bit too much. I never signed up for that.”

“But you sing those songs a lot better than he did.”

“Not the first person that told me that, today.”

“But it’s true. He just — he was good. But you just have a whole other delivery.” She blushes, guileless blue eyes staring into his, and he thinks of how she told him that his songs made her survive high school and some kind of ridiculous bet her supposed friends made about her fucking v-card and he just — fuck. She’s so nice. She’s the kind of nice person you wouldn’t presume listens to his fucked up lyrics, and yet.

And yet she does.

[jaeyunluvs]

birthday surprises - arón piper imagine

Author’s Note: Thanks for all the positive comments I’ve got on my last headcanon im so happy sdfjsfhds okay anyways here’s the actual first fanfic here we go people!!

SECOND NOTE: There was a problem with my laptop so it doubled a paragraph i’m so so sorry :(( edit: I fixed it

you can read my headcanon here

warnings: nothing. fluff i guess ah and maybe a tiny angst in the beginning

a short disclaimer: i dont know any of these people personally! english is my second language i may have mistakes (let me know if i do) . also i dont really know how to speak spanish so im sorry!!! 

anyways enjoy!!

“Do you think he’ll be here?” you asked your sister painfully while sitting on the table eating lunch. Your birthday was tomorrow and you were in your hometown to celebrate your birthday with your siblings and some friends from your childhood nothing much. But your boyfriend, Arón was in the shooting for Elite.

“Honey he’ll try his best but I don’t think he will. He’s a successful actor you know that.” your sister Maya said.

You tried to understand but you didn’t feel happy. You and your family adored him which is a good thing and this made you so happy because he meant a lot to you. But he was the only person you actually wanted to spend time with

“I’ll kill him and punch his face if he doesn’t show up! He’s a cool bro but tell me if you need anything.” your brother Leo told you.

“Leo calm down, stop planning on the poor boy!” your sister Maya defended him.

While they were arguing. You stared at the outside from the window, rain pouring down from the sky. Raindrops on the ground, the fresh feeling of rain, the smell of nature just made you feel better. 

After staring at the beauty of nature, Aron called. You immediately run to your room and accept the call from with your sweaty hands.

“Hola, amor”

“Hi aron, i miss you”

“Yo tambien amor, please forgive me but I won’t be able to make it to your birthday can we celebrate it later?” he says in the phone but actually suffering cause he hates it when you’re sad and not be able to spend time especially special times together.

“oh, okay sure” you said while tears pooling in your eyes trying not to make Aron notice. You tried to find an excuse to end the call “then we’ll talk later i gotta go mom’s looking for me.” 

“bye carina” you ended the call without hearing him saying bye but you didn’t want him to understand you’re crying and sad because you support his work and you didn’t want him to think you’re a baby (WHICH HE DOESNT I PROMISE). You sat on your bed cried for hours eating ice cream, hugging your dog and watching romcom movies with your sister. (A/N. typical lol)

Meanwhile in the Elite set:

After the call, Aron was actually very unhappy. Miguel and Omar tried to cheer him up. Their work was only waste of time because they know you’re the only person that could make him happy.

You met the elite cast in the first month you started dating Aron which right now it's been 6 months since you've started dating. Everyone loved you and very happy that their friend Aron is dating such a wonderful lady.

"I have an idea. Let's go all together. Aron call her Y/N's sister immediately we have a surprise to do!" Danna chirped.

"But how are we gonna go all together?" Aron asked still sad, in the verge of crying.

“Also The director said we can’t go.” said Claudia with a sad expression.

“I’ll go talk to him we can all have a day off can’t we?” Omar tried to cheer everyone up. He is one of the most cheerful person in the cast which this was the one of the reasons why you loved Omar. After the idea popping up, Itzan and Omar went to talk with the director.

10 minutes passed Aron was still stressing out and feeling unbelievably sad (a/n: this baby cares about you so much ahh sdfhsh <33). Danna and Ester being completely positive they tried to plan the surprise.

After 30 minutes Itzan and Omar came back with good news. They explained that they can have the day off but they begged the director so bad that the director was going to explode. 

“That cabron was being so rude! But he’s nice that he accepted so let’s go!” said Omar.

“Madre Mia, Aron you owe us a favor!” claimed Itzan laughing while watching Aron jumping in his seat.

The cast was extremely happy.

The car ride was so fun but weird at the same time. Maria and Jaime couldn’t come but they promised to celebrate it later. Jorge and Miguel partying in the background. Itzan and Aron chatting about rap. Omar and Alvaro sleeping. Last but not least all the girls were sitting together planning everything.

“Aron, what are the things she like? Like what’s her favorite movie?” Ester asked curiously so she can get an idea and brainstorm about the surprise.Aron answered with a low husky voice “She likes dogs, music, and her favorite movie is 10 Things I Hate About You. Mi amor loves oldies.” he smiled while thinking of what you like. He likes every single one of you. I guess this is called love. But are you also in love with him? Are you guys ready to tell that you guys love each other? Rejection. Fear. Concern. Little did he know that you felt the same.“oohh but 10 Things I-” Maria was interrupted by Aron.

“Ay dios mio! I have the perfect idea!” Aron said excitedly. He explained his dearest friends.

They called Maya and Leo to make the surprise possible. They were too happy and they told Aron that you were so sad he immediately felt like an evil and stopped talking. But the plan made him felt better.

It was going to be perfect.

Anyways after 8 hours of the car ride. Everyone was tired. They went on the ride at the night and now it was morning.

Aron was coming.

For his love

The girl he loved.

For you.

The Birthday Day

“WAKEY WAKEY Y/N IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY!” Your sister Maya and brother Leo shouted. They were so excited for the surprise. 

The party was going to be in the house so Maya had to take you out of the house until night. 

(A/N: Just a side note sorry for interrupting but your parents are not gonna be in the party!)

You grumbled and mumbled a few curse words under your mouth and woke up.

“Today we’re gonna shop, go meet Y/B/F/N and go to the movies!! It’s gonna be so much fun!” Maya said excitedly.

You smiled at your sister and grateful that she wants you to be happy. You tried to forget Aron for that day and have a nice time. 

After eating breakfast you went out. Your phone was blowing with birthday messages and some dm’s from instagram about Aron’s arrival to the hometown by fans but Maya immediately caught the phone while she sent you to get something. 

The day went great, you went to see Avengers Endgame which is one of your favorite movies, you went to shopping, bought a sunglasses, ate junk food, done silly stuff. But Aron was nowhere to be found for you. There was no message or calls which made you feel so bad inside. 

On the other hand, the house was crazy, people trying to cook, plan, decorate the house... It was already a mess.

After the effort that almost 25 people given has done and it was the time that you were going to be taken back home by Maya.

“Y/N it was a great day. happy birthday te quiero mucho. Now go to house I’ll be back i’ll park the car ” she hugged you in the car, then you went out. While you were trying to open the door you heard a similar melody.

“You’re just to good to be true,”

“Can't take my eyes off of you“

“You’ll be like heaven to touch,”

“I wanna hold you so much”

“As long as love as arrived”

“And i thank god I’m alive”

“You’re just too good to be true,

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” 

You saw Aron walking to you singing. You ran into him and kiss him so passionately. You were almost crying. Also he knew your favorite movie and always wanted to be surprised like this. 

“You’re here Aron! You’re here and you’re singing like Pat did to Kat.”

“Would never miss it, mi cabron!”

Then you heard a crowd shouting and singing happy birthday for you. You see the elite cast running for you. You hug every single of them and thank for their effort to come there.

You were so grateful to have such friends, family and a boyfriend like that.

It was too good to be true.

Song Credits: Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You - Frankie Valli

[elfindreams]

SOME THOUGHTS NOW THAT I’VE FINISHED ADWD:

• good god I can’t imagine having been a fan of this series all along and having to wait ten-plus years for TWoW, which STILL hasn’t been released... WHAT HAPPENS TO BRIENNE IS SHE OKAY I NEED TO KNOW

•I have a weird and terrible premonition that the prologue chapter of TWoW, if/when it ever comes out, will be from the POV of Rickon or perhaps Shaggydog.

•I haven’t kept proper count or anything but there have to be at least five different characters (all male, incidentally) who are described within the narration as grotesquely fat and repulsive and smelly. Like, constantly. In excruciating detail. After the second or third instance of this, I began to have this uncomfortable sense that there are some kind of sublimated body image issues and self-hatred at play here, because GRRM himself doesn’t exactly have a slender body shape... is this guy okay, emotionally speaking? I’m not even saying that in a jokey way, like, seriously, is he? ._.

• On a separate but not-irrelevant note. This man just LOVES himself some titties, huh. Absolutely adores them. (Relatable)

• I have a reasonably high tolerance for disturbing shit within fiction provided that it’s handled well, and I’m the last person to insist that authors need to show their characters brushing their teeth before crossing the street lest their grown-ass target audience absorb negative moral values, but the Victarion chapters in ADWD crossed the line for me. Yes he’s an intentionally awful person yes you’re not supposed to feel comfortable yes it will surely all make sense once TWoW comes out blah blah blah blah blah but, like... what’s the point of Victarion? I mean, really? His chapters are unpleasant to read, they contribute very little to the plot so far, and on a thematic level, the only thing that really comes across is “LOOK HOW AWFUL AND MISOGYNISTIC THIS GUY AND HIS CULTURE IS!!! WOW, ~TOXIC MASCULINITY~ SURE IS BAD!”, which is just as simplistic and didactic as only writing nice characters who perfectly fit our world’s moral sensibilities. And that’s especially strange because Jaime and Sam’s respective subplots are both about men who are super emotionally fucked-up (in completely opposite ways) because they were raised to think that the best and only way to be a man is to be a Cool Tough Badass Whomst Fights Real Good™, and both are done really well. So on that level, the Victarion chapters are treading on well-worn ground, and also faceplanting.

• It belatedly occurs to me that Ygritte was described as “pug-nosed”, which implies that pugs exist in Westeros...

• I was more sad about the presumed deaths of Pretty Pig and Crunch than about Jon Snow, tbh.

• *kicks rock* I wish Ser Barristan was my grandpa...

• I remember seeing Discourse on my dash circa 2014-2015 regarding Dany’s subplot in Astapor/Yunkai/Meereen as a white savior fantasy, and it’s certainly not for me to say whether that part of the show is Good, Actually, because I am super white and also haven’t watched the show. But if anything, the book version seems like a critique of that type of story: Dany shows up in these places that are completely foreign to her, swiftly and forcibly fixes their major societal ills using her superior firepower without knowing anything about the underlying factors which contribute to their existence... and then she is shocked when everything goes horribly wrong like 20 minutes later. (i.e. she ends slavery but the rich and powerful former slaveowners are still rich and powerful and still ✨control the means of production✨ so most of the formerly enslaved people end up right back where they started, it’s just that they’re now “free” but being paid starvation wages and barely surviving instead of being literally enslaved. Which she maybe could’ve avoided had she spent time learning about how the city’s economy worked and would need to be changed, and/or sat down with people and directly asked them what they wanted and needed, what would be useful to them in starting new lives for themselves, etc.)

• (I feel like I’ve already mentioned the above bullet point in a previous post but I am dumb of ass and pure of heart and also don’t feel like going back through to check)

• Satin lives!!! YES!!!

• oh right uhhhh yeah R.I.P. Quentyn, you died as you lived: doing your best but unfortunately also being kind of below-average

• Regardless of whether Young Griff/Aegon is actually Aegon, Varys’ master plan seems... bizarrely short-sighted and risky? Like, he spends 20 years intentionally destabilizing the realm plotting to put this perfectly-molded prince on the throne, but what happens if his perfect prince gets randomly thrown from his horse or gets an infected cut and dies? Even if he ends up on the throne, how can it be guaranteed that his own children are equally perfect future rulers? Is that why he and Ilyrio helped Viserys and Dany survive, so they could serve as backup in case anything happened to Aegon? But if so, then why didn’t they keep those two closer at hand, and try to educate them in a similar fashion, and keep them safe? And if his whole motive is peace and prosperity for the realm, then what was wrong with the existing state of affairs by the end of ADWD, with Cersei stripped of political power, a good-natured and pliable child king on the throne, and Kevan serving as the regent and doing a legitimately good job? Instead of the whole convoluted Aegon plot, he could’ve just... I dunno, found a way to maintain a position with court and pulled some strings to make sure Tommen was properly taught how to be a good king.

• oh yeah right R.I.P. Kevan, too

[nitewrighter]

Some OW Fankids domestic fic? Just the gang hanging around and stuff at the watchpoint? Like the halloween fic with the fankids you did before!! :DDD

I never did any fics surrounding Jaime joining the watchpoint. I should fix that.

Oof this one ended up long. 

In Loco Parentis

------

The mid-morning sunlight streamed through the slats of the watchpoint boardroom.

“We’re not a homeless shelter,” Jack’s arms were folded, “Or an orphanage.”

“You know the situation is more complicated than that,” said McCree, “If he’s fleeing Vishkar---”

“There are thousands of people displaced by Talon, Null Sector, and the Siberian Omnium,” said Jack, “We barely have the resources to sustain ourselves. If we start taking on civilians...”

“Even at the peak of Overwatch’s power, there wasn’t a whole lot they could do about 30 million crisis orphans,” said Sombra.

“But with Marti--” McCree looked over at Sombra, who had several screens open around her head.

“I’m Marti’s legal guardian,” said Sombra, scrolling through one of her screens with a flick of her wrist, “It’s different.”

“So what, we just throw him out?” said McCree.

“Not ‘throw him out,’” said Winston. He cleared his throat and set several pamphlets on the table in front of McCree, “His associating with us also potentially makes him even more of a target for Talon. While I do believe Overwatch is meant to help everyone, we have to be able to delegate what that help looks like.”

McCree picked up one of the pamphlets and his mouth thinned. There was a picture of a handful of kids of varying backgrounds in front of an idyllic suburban house. “...Foster care,” said McCree, “You’re talking about foster care.”

“I can cover his tracks,” said Sombra, “Keep Vishkar from scooping him back up.”

McCree opened up the pamphlet and his eyes glazed over it. Clean. Homey. Normal. He deserved normal. All kids deserved normal.

He’ll be clawing at that pretty flowery wallpaper within two weeks, run off again within a month, thought McCree, He’s too angry. Too scared. Too hungry. He’s seen too much to think he can--No. Shut up. Shut up. You’re projecting. You’re projecting. You’re projecting.

“It’s best if you talk to him,” said Winston, “From his perspective, you’re the closest thing he has to ‘In Loco Parentis.’”

“In local what now?”

“It’s a legal term meaning--” Winston caught himself, “Er--”

“‘In place of a parent,’” said Sombra, she gave McCree a slightly pitying look, “McCree, we all know your story. We know what you’re thinking.”

“What? What am I thinking? That it’s wrong to give him back into a system that just tossed him into Vishkar’s jaws before?” McCree folded his arms. “I’m just saying, even if we put him in completely anonymously, you know Talon and Vishkar comb through the poorest and most desperate for...their ranks.”

“We have to demonstrate some cooperation with the proper channels,” said Winston.

“Look, we get your concerns but try to see it from our perspective. He’s only a few years younger than you were when Reyes picked you up,” said Sombra, folding her arms, “This is personal for you, we get it---”

“You think I’m emotionally compromised,” said McCree with a scoff.

“Yes,” said Sombra, flatly, “But, it’s because of that compromise that we also trust you to do what’s best for him.” Sombra insistently tapped a finger on the end of the pamphlet McCree was holding for emphasis as she said ‘do what’s best.’

McCree looked down at the pamphlet.

“He’s at a stage you were at once, and I get wanting to help him through that,” Sombra went on, “But we’re fighting against a global corporate-backed terrorist collective and a robot invasion. The best thing we can do for him is get him as far away from it as we can.”

McCree looked at a photo of several children around a table with plates of pancakes as a human and omnic pair of foster parents proudly beamed at the camera. Normal. He deserved normal.

“I’ll... I’ll talk to the kid,” said McCree, itching at the brim of his hat, “I guess... all that matters is getting a roof over his head, right?”

He looked at Jack and found no sympathy in that visor. All that matters is stopping Talon, he could almost hear Jack’s voice.

“Of course,” said Winston, “We have complete faith in you.”

“I mean, unless he’s already stolen everything he could and dipped already,” said Sombra with a slight chuckle.

McCree shot her a dirty look.

“Crisis Orphan mentality,” said Sombra with a shrug, “It’s what I would have done in his place.”

“We ain’t treatin’ him like a criminal!” said McCree.

“He’s literally here because he stole Rei’s backpack,” said Jack, flatly.

“Hanzo’s been keeping an eye on him,” said McCree, “Last I checked he was still asleep. It’ll be fine.”

----

“You lost him!?” McCree was pacing back and forth in front of Hanzo as they stood in an empty watchpoint dormitory, “How do you lose a whole-ass 14-year-old?!”

“I wasn’t going to have him wake up with me staring at him, I thought it prudent to fix something for him to eat for a late breakfast!” said Hanzo. He was holding a now-cold plate of a neatly folded omelette flecked with chives.

“...of all the times for you to switch gears from ninja to Uncle Hanzo...” McCree huffed but Hanzo just furrowed his brows at him. “Sorry--” McCree caught himself, “Sorry. We gotta go find him. Athena?” McCree called and looked around the dorm room. There was no response.

“Did he disable Athena in here?” said Hanzo, shocked.

“If he could run away from a Vishkar orphanage...” McCree pulled out his comm, “Athena, you there? I need Watchpoint surveillance feeds on my comm.”

“If we don’t want him to feel like a criminal, perhaps activating all Watchpoint security isn’t the best way to go about this,” said Hanzo, “We’ll look around for him first. Give him time to come back.”

“In that time he could hop another freighter or--or get hurt! He’s cleared with Satya’s turrets, right?” said McCree.

“Of course he’s cleared with Satya’s turrets, we aren’t savages!” Hanzo retorted, “Every moment we spend arguing is a moment we should be spending making sure he’s all right. Come,” said Hanzo, already briskly walking out

“You gotta be kidding me,” muttered McCree, following behind him.

----

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jaime was hunched over a pried-open panel to see nothing but empty black space. The scent of his own new clothes threw him off, distracted him. The fact that he couldn’t really smell himself anymore was definitely an improvement, but he was wondering how much the stress of getting out of here would undo that. He rooted around in the space, trying to feel for wires, but then huffed.

“The whole watchpoint’s been cannibalized several times over. Any copper or palladium in the walls here has probably been stripped for Mei’s or Athena’s servers,” a voice that seemed to be trying to jam too many syllables in at once while hitting its consonants a little too hard spoke up from behind Jaime, and Jaime glanced over his shoulder to see a familiar girl with thick eyebrows and wild dark hair tied half-back in a yellow ribbon. “There’s no way you can try to get them without getting caught, though,” she added.

“...Psycho,” said Jaime.

“Thief,” said Rei.

“I already said sorry about your stupid backpack,” said Jaime, pushing himself up from his knees and dusting himself off, already walking away.

“And you’re already trying to steal again!” said Rei, huffily pacing after him.

“You know most people don’t steal because they have anything against whoever they’re stealing from, right?” said Jaime, “It’s not about you, or your watch...thing.”

“Watchpoint,” said Rei.

“It’s about survival,” said Jaime.

“So ask!” said Rei, “They’re Overwatch! You think we don’t care about people’s survival?!”

“I really don’t care about your weird army cult thing,” said Jaime, continuing to walk.

“Cult?!” Rei blustered.

“Yeah. Big compound, lots of guns...weird kids who were born here and don’t question the giant weird compound or the guns---”

“Overwatch is trying to save the world from Talon and Null Sector! Trying to save the world isn’t a cult!” said Rei.

Jaime just gave her a semi-pitying look that made her blood boil.

“Well fine! If you want to go back to being a scuzzy little thief, be my guest!” she said, throwing her hands up.

“That’s the plan,” said Jaime, continuing to walk away, “Not like I’m dumb enough to wait for them to hand me off to the police or another orphanage.”

“Fine!” Rei said again, folding her arms, before suddenly catching herself, “Wait---”

Jaime stopped and looked over his shoulder at her.

“If you need things before you go, we can give them to you. No stealing,” said Rei, “I mean, obviously you can’t strip Athena or any of the tech, but... clothes and soap and food...” she trailed off.

Jaime’s stomach audibly growled at the word ‘food.’

“...Have you eaten yet today?” said Rei, suddenly alarmed.

“What are you, my mom?” said Jaime with a scoff before his stomach growled again.

“Come with me,” said Rei, briskly stepping up alongside him. She looked to his wrist, fully healed from the sprain thanks to biotics, and took his elbow, “Come on.”

“Is this the cult love-bombing?” said Jaime, being half-dragged behind her, “I’m not going if it’s the cult love-bombing.”

“Oh my god, it’s not love-bombing, I’m just taking you to the garden so you can grab some fruit,” said Rei continuing to drag him along, “It’s closer than the mess hall. You’re less likely to run into the adults there.”

“You have guns, a compound, and a little mini-farm, and you want me to believe you’re not a cult,” said Jaime, flatly. They rounded a corner and walked a narrow path between the hangar and the seaside cliffs.

“I don’t have guns. And Bastion actually does most of the gardening,” said Rei, as they walked.

“Who?” said Jaime, but he blinked several times as the ground opened up  to a wide grassy area bordered by Gibraltar’s rocks and the hangar. There was a line of orange trees up against the hangar, and a significant section of the grass had been carved out to form a small victory garden growing tomatoes, strawberries, lettuce, carrots, and corn. Opposite the orange trees were several thrumming beehive boxes, and at the far end of the garden was an apparently well-loved old greenhouse that had gone through several patch-ups over the years, and a knobby little olive tree twisting up next to it, canvas laid out at its roots.

“Thwuh-wheet?” an inquisitive beep came from behind them and both Rei and Jaime quickly turned on their heels to see Bastion looming over them, . Jaime’s breath caught in his throat and he stumbled back. Bastion tilted its boxy head at him.

“...that’s a Bastion unit,” said Jaime, his voice tense in his throat as he took several steps back.

“Bastion doesn’t like to fight,” said Rei, as several birds fluttered around Bastion’s head. Bastion gestured at Jaime with its hand.

“Oh um--he’s.... from school!” said Rei, “He’s just visiting.”

“Right,” Jaime repeated hesitantly, “From... the school.” But then Jaime jumped about a foot in the air as a bright blue teleporter opened at the end of the line of orange trees. Rei stepped in front of Jaime, half-expecting an adult to step out of it, but instead it was only Samir, looking more rumpled than usual in a baggy tank top, basketball shorts, and sandals. The only thing that kept Jaime from breaking out into a dead sprint out of that garden at the slightest sight of hard-light was both Rei and Bastion’s complete non-reaction to the appearance of a teleporter. Samir didn’t seem really aware of them as he materialized a large basket and a hard-light telescoping fruit picker.

“I thought you said Overwatch was against Vishkar!” Jaime hissed from behind Rei as Samir hummed and picked oranges.

“We are,” said Rei, “Samir’s mom--I mean, one of Samir’s moms---well, long story short, you’re not the first person to leave Vishkar.”

Jaime blinked several times, “I’m... I’m not?”

“Rei?” Samir’s head turned toward her as an orange thudded to the ground at his feet, “Who are you talking to?”

Jaime leaned out slightly from behind Bastion and Samir squinted a little.

“Uh...Hi. Jaime. I’m Jaime, from... from school. The school. That I go to. With her,” said Jaime.

“Rei,” Rei said quietly under her breath.

“The school with Rei,” said Jaime, nodding.

Samir gave them both a skeptical look before resuming picking oranges, “You’re hiding,” he said matter-of-factly.

“What? No!” Rei and Jaime’s voices were overlapping each other as they stumbled over several half-thought out excuses.

Samir gave them an impatient ‘Don’t assume I’m dumb’ look and Rei’s shoulders slumped. “Look, it’s complicated,” said Rei, “Okay?”

“Is he a secret boyfriend? You aren’t cheating on Jaz, are you?” said Samir, squinting at her.

“Oh gross! Barf! Like I would cheat on Jaz with Backpack Thief McPubertystache over here!” Rei blurted out, but then she caught herself and looked at Jaime, “I mean.... uh... no.”

“...real flattering,” said Jaime.

“Wait--You stole Rei’s backpack?!” Samir’s face lit up.

“Uh...” Jaime itched at the back of his neck.

“So you outran a ninja and Marti?” said Samir.

“He didn’t outrun me!” said Rei, indignantly.

“I out parkour’d her,” said Jaime, folding his arms smugly.

“Did not! You caught me on an off-day!” said Rei.

“I out parkour’d her,” Jaime whisper-spoke to Samir and Samir snorted slightly.

“So... you’re still here?” said Samir tilting his head, “I thought Overwatch would have just sent you to your parents or....”

Jaime glanced off and his lips thinned.

“...Oh,” said Samir and he looked to Rei, “Did they say what they were going to do with him or...?”

“I can take care of myself,” said Jaime, firmly, “Rei’s just helping me grab some stuff before I go.”

“...oh,” said Samir, his shoulders slumping slightly, “So you’re going.”

“I’m a wanderer,” said Jaime, putting his hands on his hips, “Erromes.”

“Erro...what?” Samir started.

“A pilgrim,” said Jaime.

“...you’re fourteen,” said Rei, flatly.

“Better than being in a cult,” said Jaime with a shrug.

“We’re not in a---!” Rei huffed before looking at Samir, “We’re just grabbing some food, that’s it.”

Samir shrugged, “Fine by me,” he pulled an orange from his basket and materialized a hard light knife, cutting the orange into neat sections. He held the cut orange out to Jaime. Jaime gave a wary glance to Rei before stepping over to Samir and taking the cut orange.

“Rei said you escaped Vishkar?” said Samir.

“...yeah,” said Jaime, trying to eat the orange slices as casually as possible despite how hungry he was.

“What was it like?” said Samir.

Jaime just paled slightly and Samir caught himself, “Sorry just... Mom hates them too, but she’s never talks about it, you know?”

“They always try and leave us out of that kind of stuff,” muttered Rei, interlacing her fingers behind her head.

“What’s the cowboy’s deal?” said Jaime, in-between bites of orange.

“Uncle Jesse?” said Rei,

“Like... why is he a cowboy?” said Jaime.

“Why are you a pilgrim if you keep freaking out and calling us a cult?” said Rei, arching an eyebrow.

“Pilgrims understand there are no easy answers,” said Jaime, airily.

“The way we live isn’t an easy answer,” said Rei with a scoff, “I’m scared of my parents dying, or my uncles dying, or anyone else on this Watchpoint dying. Like, all the time. And I’m scared of losing my home. All the time.”

“...oh,” said Jaime.

“You thought this was easy?” said Rei.

“...you go to school, and you have lunches and...” Jaime trailed off. Rei was glancing off, too.

An awkward pause passed between the three of them. Bastion at this point seemed to occupy itself with weeding the garden.

“No one knows why McCree’s a cowboy,” said Samir, at last, “That’s just how he is.” Another long pause passed and Samir cleared his throat. “You know, you’re probably going to want food with a longer shelf-life so..”

“Mess hall!” Rei blurted out.

“Right,” said Samir, spinning another teleporter into existence.

Jaime visibly tensed at the sight of another teleporter and Samir quickly waved it off into sparkling oblivion with a flick of his wrist. “Or we could walk! Walking is good!”

“‘We?’” said Rei.

“Well it’s not like we get a lot of visitors,” said Samir, hefting up his basket of oranges and stepping up next to them. Samir and Rei gave a wave to Bastion, who only briefly glanced up from a butterfly resting on a tomato flower to wave back at them as they left the garden.

“...so you live on the Watchpoint too?” said Jaime, walking with Rei and Samir. The three of them walked another cliffside path to a road that needed some re-paving ribboning through the watchpoint. Jaime was periodically grabbing oranges out of Samir’s basket, peeling and eating them as they walked.

“There’s just four of us,” said Samir, “There’s Rei, Marti, me, and my brother, Rajeev. We actually all go to the same school, but Rajeev and I are in lower grades.”

“Ah...” said Jaime, now feeling a little foolish for trying to keep up the ‘I’m Rei’s classmate’ lie, “...and your parents just... teach you being about being a ninja or using hard-light?”

“It took forever to convince Dad and Uncle to let me start training,” said Rei with a huff,  “Dad was okay with me learning Kendo, but he and Mom were so weird about me learning any actual ninja stuff. But I was climbing everything on the Watchpoint anyway so Uncle started teaching me stuff ‘so I wouldn’t hurt myself.’”

“For me, my Mom just uses hard-light for everything,” said Samir with a shrug, “It’s just kind of how we do everything. Cooking, cleaning, exercise---”

“Basketball,” said Rei as the road opened up to the watchpoint tarmac.

“That falls under exer--oh,” Samir was cut off by the pang pang pang of a basketball on blacktop glanced up to see a large hard-light basketball hoop set up in front of the watchpoint mess hall. Marti was guarding the hoop, in a tense cat-like position while Rajeev was furiously dribbling the ball in front of her, trying to get past her. Marti glanced over her shoulder at them.

“Rei?” Marti blinked a few times and looked at Jaime, “Isn’t that the--”

 She was cut off as Rajeev dipped to the side of her and jumped up to make a slam-dunk, only to have the entire basketball hoop dematerialize with the impact of his weight. He stumbled to the ground and the basketball smacked against the pavement and went flying. Jaime caught it out of the air.

“Boom!” Rajeev threw his arms up into the air, “Dunked it too hard! Too powerful!”

“I’m pretty sure the basket only dissolved because you need to dial up the shock absorption,” said Samir, with a huff.

“Details,” said Rajeev with a hand wave.

“What’s going on?” said Marti, looking between Rei and Jaime, “What’s he doing here?”

“I’m just helping him grab some stuff before he takes off,” said Rei with a shrug.

“...he’s taking off?” said Marti, “What did McCree say?”

“Well...” Rei trailed off.

“Rei,” Marti folded her arms.

“I mean he’s going to run off anyway!” said Rei.

“It’s true,” said Jaime with a shrug, still holding the basketball.

“And go back to stealing and dumpster-diving?” said Marti.

“What do you care?” said Jaime.

“You’re just a kid,” said Marti.

“So?” said Jaime a bit more stiffly.

“And you ran away from Vishkar,” Samir piped up.

“You ran away from Vishkar!?” Rajeev’s face lit up.

“And he outran Rei and Marti for like, 3 hours,” said Samir.

“He didn’t outrun me, he cheated,” said Rei.

“He outran us,” Marti confirmed. 

“Woah...” Rajeev looked back at Jaime. He pointed at the basketball still in Jaime’s hand, “Wanna play a round?”

“What, just like that?” said Jaime.

Rajeev shrugged. “It’s just basketball. We don’t get a lot of visitors to the Watchpoint.” 

“...I don’t know if that’s a good idea...” Jaime said quietly, bounce-passing the ball to Marti.

“It’s a good idea,” said Marti, bounce-passing the ball back to him.

Jaime looked at her.

“I get what it feels like to not feel safe anywhere,” said Marti, “But...this place...”

“This place is about as safe from Vishkar as you can get,” said Samir, finishing her thought.

Jaime looked down at the ball and then his eyes flicked to Rei. “You don’t actually want to play with me,” he said, bouncing the ball to her.

“I don’t know about ‘play,’” said Rei, dribbling the ball thoughtfully, “But I gotta show the twins that you outrunning me was just a fluke somehow.” She chest-passed it so hard to him he rocked back on his heels.

“Oh it’s like that?” said Jaime, passing the ball back to her.

“It’s like that,” said Rei, bouncing the ball back.

“We can play guys vs. girls!” said Rajeev.

“That’s three on two,” said Samir.

“Two on two, each team gets a twin,” said Marti, “Rei and Rajeev vs Jaime and Samir. Sound fair?”

“What about you?” said Rei.

“I’ll be sneaking stuff out of the mess hall,” said Marti with a slight smile at Jaime, “Just for good faith.”

“How is it good faith if we’re still stea--” Rajeev started but Samir elbowed him.

“I shouldn’t stay that long,” Jaime said, 

“First to five?” said Samir, as he and Rajeev materialized a new hard-light hoop.

“...I’ve got time for first to five,” said Jaime.

----

“I meant to ask,” said Hanzo as the two of them briskly walked out of the hangar, “Did you and  the others come to a consensus about what should be done?” McCree fished the foster home pamphlet out of his back pocket and held it out to Hanzo. “...Ah,” said Hanzo.

“I mean, it’s obvious, ain’t it?” said McCree glancing off, “It’s not like he actually wants to be here...”

Hanzo studied McCree’s profile for a few seconds. “You’re not okay with this,” Hanzo said quietly.

“What?” said McCree, “I mean, I’ll be okay about it. I just gotta...” he trailed off, “Y’know.”

“He’s a lot like you,” said Hanzo, as they walked through one of the watchpoint’s cannibalized server rooms.

“You know, this would be easier if people stopped sayin’ that,” said McCree, pausing to examine a panel which had been removed from the wall.

Hanzo glanced off, “Do you remember when we would look after Rei when Genji and Angela were busy?”

“Oh don’t start---” McCree pressed the brim of his hat down.

“You loved it. You loved her. You listened to her babbling like it was the most important and interesting thing in the world.”

“That’s---”

“You even volunteered us for helping out with the twins when they were born.  And when Marti came to the Watchpoint you were constantly checking in to make sure she was settling in all right.”

“That’s babysitting! That’s kids you can walk away from!” said McCree, as they both walked out of the server room.

“But none of the children on this Watchpoint forgot that. They go to you when they feel like they can’t talk to their parents about something, you haven’t noticed that?”

“Well, maybe that’s because they don’t see me as an authority figure like everyone else--not a good ‘In local parentals’ factor,” said McCree.

“In loco parentis,” said Hanzo.

“See? I don’t know shit!”

“It’s not a matter of them not respecting you, it’s a matter of them seeing you as someone who respects them,” said Hanzo, “You’re coming from a childhood where you were largely relying on yourself... the adult figure you are to these children is the one you wish you had in your life. And it’s why Jaime was able to trust you enough to get his wrist looked at rather than just run off.”

“Hanzo, what are you gettin’ at, here?”

“You want to be a father--You’ve probably wanted to be a father ever since Rei was born. Possibly even earlier.”

“Well yeah, but there’s wanting something, and then knowing you’ll be shit at it,” said McCree, “I’m not like you, all... together.”

“You think I would be a good father?” a laugh rippled Hanzo’s voice and he noted the apparent hurt in McCree’s expression, “Oh... you actually...”

“You were a got-dang wizard with Rei! She still idolizes you! You’re always... prepared!” McCree furrowed his brow and thought for a second, “Did you ever want kids?”

“...In a sense, but...” Hanzo glanced down, “I didn’t think it would be fair to them. My father spent my childhood molding me into another, well, him. And as Genji can probably tell you, he wasn’t a good person. I don’t... I don’t want to inflict that on a child.”

“You would never,” said McCree on reflex, “Me on the other hand...” he shuddered, “If I became another kid’s Reyes...” he trailed off, “...we never really talked about this, did we?” he said at last.

“Well, given the fact that Overwatch is throwing us into near-constant danger and we never had to worry about pregnancy...” Hanzo trailed off, “Let’s just focus on finding him.”

“I hear that,” said McCree, “It ain’t about us. It’s about him.” McCree’s boot hit an odd texture and he glanced down.

“Orange peel,” said Hanzo, plucking up a bit of the waxy rind from the blacktop. They looked at the small trail of bits of orange peel like breadcrumbs through the watchpoint.

“Could be another macaque,” said McCree.

“Too clean,” said Hanzo.

“Welp, it’s a lead,” said McCree, following the trail. It lead them on a meandering path through the watchpoint, a fairly straight line towards the mess hall.

The trail of orange peel tapered off to nothingness and McCree frowned, but then his head jerked up at the sound of Rei shouting. He gave a glance back to Hanzo and both of them picked up their pace, rounding the corner to see Jaime, Rei, and the twins all involved in an intense game of basketball around one hard-light hoop. Rei was passing to Rajeev, getting intercepted by Jaime who would shoot for the basket, only to be intercepted by Rajeev. They didn’t even notice McCree and Hanzo coming out from behind a building’s corner, but McCree hung back. He fished the foster home brochure out of the back of his pocket, he glanced down at the photo of the smiling family at the table laden with pancakes, then glanced back up at the four kids laughing and shouting at each other as they scrambled around the basketball hoop. 

The sensible voice in his head spoke up, saying, Do what’s best for him. He deserves normal, but then an angrier voice spoke, What the hell is normal anyway? There hasn’t been a normal ever since the goddamn Omnic Crisis. It’s not about ‘normal’ it’s about ‘home.’ And when the hell has ‘home’ ever been normal for anyone?

“Jesse?” Hanzo’s voice cut through McCree’s train of thought and McCree glanced over at him, “Do you think we should...?” He looked back at Jaime intercepting a shot from Rei and then laughing about it.

“...I mean, he doesn’t have to go right away, does he?” said McCree, watching as Jaime managed to snatch the ball back from Rajeev and get an assist from Samir.

“Not... right away,” said Hanzo.

I never did any fics surrounding Jaime joining the watchpoint. I should fix that.

Oof this one ended up long. 

In Loco Parentis

------

The mid-morning sunlight streamed through the slats of the watchpoint boardroom.

“We’re not a homeless shelter,” Jack’s arms were folded, “Or an orphanage.”

“You know the situation is more complicated than that,” said McCree, “If he’s fleeing Vishkar---”

“There are thousands of people displaced by Talon, Null Sector, and the Siberian Omnium,” said Jack, “We barely have the resources to sustain ourselves. If we start taking on civilians...”

“Even at the peak of Overwatch’s power, there wasn’t a whole lot they could do about 30 million crisis orphans,” said Sombra.

“But with Marti--” McCree looked over at Sombra, who had several screens open around her head.

“I’m Marti’s legal guardian,” said Sombra, scrolling through one of her screens with a flick of her wrist, “It’s different.”

“So what, we just throw him out?” said McCree.

“Not ‘throw him out,’” said Winston. He cleared his throat and set several pamphlets on the table in front of McCree, “His associating with us also potentially makes him even more of a target for Talon. While I do believe Overwatch is meant to help everyone, we have to be able to delegate what that help looks like.”

McCree picked up one of the pamphlets and his mouth thinned. There was a picture of a handful of kids of varying backgrounds in front of an idyllic suburban house. “...Foster care,” said McCree, “You’re talking about foster care.”

“I can cover his tracks,” said Sombra, “Keep Vishkar from scooping him back up.”

McCree opened up the pamphlet and his eyes glazed over it. Clean. Homey. Normal. He deserved normal. All kids deserved normal.

He’ll be clawing at that pretty flowery wallpaper within two weeks, run off again within a month, thought McCree, He’s too angry. Too scared. Too hungry. He’s seen too much to think he can--No. Shut up. Shut up. You’re projecting. You’re projecting. You’re projecting.

“It’s best if you talk to him,” said Winston, “From his perspective, you’re the closest thing he has to ‘In Loco Parentis.’”

“In local what now?”

“It’s a legal term meaning--” Winston caught himself, “Er--”

“‘In place of a parent,’” said Sombra, she gave McCree a slightly pitying look, “McCree, we all know your story. We know what you’re thinking.”

“What? What am I thinking? That it’s wrong to shove him back into a system that just tossed him into Vishkar’s jaws before?” McCree folded his arms. “I’m just saying, even if we put him in completely anonymously, you know Talon and Vishkar comb through the poorest and most desperate for...their ranks.”

“We have to demonstrate some cooperation with the proper channels,” said Winston.

“Look, we get your concerns but try to see it from our perspective. He’s only a few years younger than you were when Reyes picked you up,” said Sombra, folding her arms, “This is personal for you, we get it---”

“You think I’m emotionally compromised,” said McCree with a scoff.

“Yes,” said Sombra, flatly, “But, it’s because of that compromise that we also trust you to do what’s best for him.” Sombra insistently tapped a finger on the end of the pamphlet McCree was holding for emphasis as she said ‘do what’s best.’

McCree looked down at the pamphlet.

“He’s at a stage you were at once, and I get wanting to help him through that,” Sombra went on, “But we’re fighting against a global corporate-backed terrorist collective and a robot invasion. The best thing we can do for him is get him as far away from it as we can.”

McCree looked at a photo of several children around a table with plates of pancakes as a human and omnic pair of foster parents proudly beamed at the camera. Normal. He deserved normal.

“I’ll... I’ll talk to the kid,” said McCree, itching at the brim of his hat, “I guess... all that matters is getting a roof over his head, right?”

He looked at Jack and found no sympathy in that visor. All that matters is stopping Talon, he could almost hear Jack’s voice.

“Of course,” said Winston, “We have complete faith in you.”

“I mean, unless he’s already stolen everything he could and dipped already,” said Sombra with a slight chuckle.

McCree shot her a dirty look.

“Crisis Orphan mentality,” said Sombra with a shrug, “It’s what I would have done in his place.”

“We ain’t treatin’ him like a criminal!” said McCree.

“He’s literally here because he stole Rei’s backpack,” said Jack, flatly.

“Hanzo’s been keeping an eye on him,” said McCree, “Last I checked he was still asleep. It’ll be fine.”

----

“You lost him!?” McCree was pacing back and forth in front of Hanzo as they stood in an empty watchpoint dormitory, “How do you lose a whole-ass 14-year-old?!”

“I wasn’t going to have him wake up with me staring at him, I thought it prudent to fix something for him to eat for a late breakfast!” said Hanzo. He was holding a now-cold plate of a neatly folded omelette flecked with chives.

“...of all the times for you to switch gears from ninja to Uncle Hanzo...” McCree huffed but Hanzo just furrowed his brows at him. “Sorry--” McCree caught himself, “Sorry. We gotta go find him. Athena?” McCree called and looked around the dorm room. There was no response.

“Did he disable Athena in here?” said Hanzo, shocked.

“If he could run away from a Vishkar orphanage...” McCree pulled out his comm, “Athena, you there? I need Watchpoint surveillance feeds on my comm.”

“If we don’t want him to feel like a criminal, perhaps activating all Watchpoint security isn’t the best way to go about this,” said Hanzo, “We’ll look around for him first. Give him time to come back.”

“In that time he could hop another freighter or--or get hurt! He’s cleared with Satya’s turrets, right?” said McCree.

“Of course he’s cleared with Satya’s turrets, we aren’t savages!” Hanzo retorted, “Every moment we spend arguing is a moment we should be spending making sure he’s all right. Come,” said Hanzo, already briskly walking out

“You gotta be kidding me,” muttered McCree, following behind him.

----

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jaime was hunched over a pried-open panel to see nothing but empty black space. The scent of his own new clothes threw him off, distracted him. The fact that he couldn’t really smell himself anymore was definitely an improvement, but he was wondering how much the stress of getting out of here would undo that. He rooted around in the space, trying to feel for wires, but then huffed.

“The whole watchpoint’s been cannibalized several times over. Any copper or palladium in the walls here has probably been stripped for Mei’s or Athena’s servers,” a voice that seemed to be trying to jam too many syllables in at once while hitting its consonants a little too hard spoke up from behind Jaime, and Jaime glanced over his shoulder to see a familiar girl with thick eyebrows and wild dark hair tied half-back in a yellow ribbon. “There’s no way you can try to get them without getting caught, though,” she added.

“...Psycho,” said Jaime.

“Thief,” said Rei.

“I already said sorry about your stupid backpack,” said Jaime, pushing himself up from his knees and dusting himself off, already walking away.

“And you’re already trying to steal again!” said Rei, huffily pacing after him.

“You know most people don’t steal because they have anything against whoever they’re stealing from, right?” said Jaime, “It’s not about you, or your watch...thing.”

“Watchpoint,” said Rei.

“It’s about survival,” said Jaime.

“So ask!” said Rei, “They’re Overwatch! You think we don’t care about people’s survival?!”

“I really don’t care about your weird army cult thing,” said Jaime, continuing to walk.

“Cult?!” Rei blustered.

“Yeah. Big compound, lots of guns...weird kids who were born here and don’t question the giant weird compound or the guns---”

“Overwatch is trying to save the world from Talon and Null Sector! Trying to save the world isn’t a cult!” said Rei.

Jaime just gave her a semi-pitying look that made her blood boil.

“Well fine! If you want to go back to being a scuzzy little thief, be my guest!” she said, throwing her hands up.

“That’s the plan,” said Jaime, continuing to walk away, “Not like I’m dumb enough to wait for them to hand me off to the police or another orphanage.”

“Fine!” Rei said again, folding her arms, before suddenly catching herself, “Wait---”

Jaime stopped and looked over his shoulder at her.

“If you need things before you go, we can give them to you. No stealing,” said Rei, “I mean, obviously you can’t strip Athena or any of the tech, but... clothes and soap and food...” she trailed off.

Jaime’s stomach audibly growled at the word ‘food.’

“...Have you eaten yet today?” said Rei, suddenly alarmed.

“What are you, my mom?” said Jaime with a scoff before his stomach growled again.

“Come with me,” said Rei, briskly stepping up alongside him. She looked to his wrist, fully healed from the sprain thanks to biotics, and took his elbow, “Come on.”

“Is this the cult love-bombing?” said Jaime, being half-dragged behind her, “I’m not going if it’s the cult love-bombing.”

“Oh my god, it’s not love-bombing, I’m just taking you to the garden so you can grab some fruit,” said Rei continuing to drag him along, “It’s closer than the mess hall. You’re less likely to run into the adults there.”

“You have guns, a compound, and a little mini-farm, and you want me to believe you’re not a cult,” said Jaime, flatly. They rounded a corner and walked a narrow path between the hangar and the seaside cliffs.

“I don’t have guns. And Bastion actually does most of the gardening,” said Rei, as they walked.

“Who?” said Jaime, but he blinked several times as the ground opened up  to a wide grassy area bordered by Gibraltar’s rocks and the hangar. There was a line of orange trees up against the hangar, and a significant section of the grass had been carved out to form a small victory garden growing tomatoes, strawberries, lettuce, carrots, and corn. Opposite the orange trees were several thrumming beehive boxes, and at the far end of the garden was an apparently well-loved old greenhouse that had gone through several patch-ups over the years, and a knobby little olive tree twisting up next to it, canvas laid out at its roots.

“Thwuh-wheet?” an inquisitive beep came from behind them and both Rei and Jaime quickly turned on their heels to see Bastion looming over them, . Jaime’s breath caught in his throat and he stumbled back. Bastion tilted its boxy head at him.

“...that’s a Bastion unit,” said Jaime, his voice tense in his throat as he took several steps back.

“Bastion doesn’t like to fight,” said Rei, as several birds fluttered around Bastion’s head. Bastion gestured at Jaime with its hand.

“Oh um--he’s.... from school!” said Rei, “He’s just visiting.”

“Right,” Jaime repeated hesitantly, “From... the school.” But then Jaime jumped about a foot in the air as a bright blue teleporter opened at the end of the line of orange trees. Rei stepped in front of Jaime, half-expecting an adult to step out of it, but instead it was only Samir, looking more rumpled than usual in a baggy tank top, basketball shorts, and sandals. The only thing that kept Jaime from breaking out into a dead sprint out of that garden at the slightest sight of hard-light was both Rei and Bastion’s complete non-reaction to the appearance of a teleporter. Samir didn’t seem really aware of them as he materialized a large basket and a hard-light telescoping fruit picker.

“I thought you said Overwatch was against Vishkar!” Jaime hissed from behind Rei as Samir hummed and picked oranges.

“We are,” said Rei, “Samir’s mom--I mean, one of Samir’s moms---well, long story short, you’re not the first person to leave Vishkar.”

Jaime blinked several times, “I’m... I’m not?”

“Rei?” Samir’s head turned toward her as an orange thudded to the ground at his feet, “Who are you talking to?”

Jaime leaned out slightly from behind Bastion and Samir squinted a little.

“Uh...Hi. Jaime. I’m Jaime, from... from school. The school. That I go to. With her,” said Jaime.

“Rei,” Rei said quietly under her breath.

“The school with Rei,” said Jaime, nodding.

Samir gave them both a skeptical look before resuming picking oranges, “You’re hiding,” he said matter-of-factly.

“What? No!” Rei and Jaime’s voices were overlapping each other as they stumbled over several half-thought out excuses.

Samir gave them an impatient ‘Don’t assume I’m dumb’ look and Rei’s shoulders slumped. “Look, it’s complicated,” said Rei, “Okay?”

“Is he a secret boyfriend? You aren’t cheating on Jaz, are you?” said Samir, squinting at her.

“Oh gross! Barf! Like I would cheat on Jaz with Backpack Thief McPubertystache over here!” Rei blurted out, but then she caught herself and looked at Jaime, “I mean.... uh... no.”

“...real flattering,” said Jaime.

“Wait--You stole Rei’s backpack?!” Samir’s face lit up.

“Uh...” Jaime itched at the back of his neck.

“So you outran a ninja and Marti?” said Samir.

“He didn’t outrun me!” said Rei, indignantly.

“I out parkour’d her,” said Jaime, folding his arms smugly.

“Did not! You caught me on an off-day!” said Rei.

“I out parkour’d her,” Jaime whisper-spoke to Samir and Samir snorted slightly.

“So... you’re still here?” said Samir tilting his head, “I thought Overwatch would have just sent you to your parents or....”

Jaime glanced off and his lips thinned.

“...Oh,” said Samir and he looked to Rei, “Did they say what they were going to do with him or...?”

“I can take care of myself,” said Jaime, firmly, “Rei’s just helping me grab some stuff before I go.”

“...oh,” said Samir, his shoulders slumping slightly, “So you’re going.”

“I’m a wanderer,” said Jaime, putting his hands on his hips, “Erromes.”

“Erro...what?” Samir started.

“A pilgrim,” said Jaime.

“...you’re fourteen,” said Rei, flatly.

“Better than being in a cult,” said Jaime with a shrug.

“We’re not in a---!” Rei huffed before looking at Samir, “We’re just grabbing some food, that’s it.”

Samir shrugged, “Fine by me,” he pulled an orange from his basket and materialized a hard light knife, cutting the orange into neat sections. He held the cut orange out to Jaime. Jaime gave a wary glance to Rei before stepping over to Samir and taking the cut orange.

“Rei said you escaped Vishkar?” said Samir.

“...yeah,” said Jaime, trying to eat the orange slices as casually as possible despite how hungry he was.

“What was it like?” said Samir.

Jaime just paled slightly and Samir caught himself, “Sorry just... Mom hates them too, but she’s never talks about it, you know?”

“They always try and leave us out of that kind of stuff,” muttered Rei, interlacing her fingers behind her head.

“What’s the cowboy’s deal?” said Jaime, in-between bites of orange.

“Uncle Jesse?” said Rei,

“Like... why is he a cowboy?” said Jaime.

“Why are you a pilgrim if you keep freaking out and calling us a cult?” said Rei, arching an eyebrow.

“Pilgrims understand there are no easy answers,” said Jaime, airily.

“The way we live isn’t an easy answer,” said Rei with a scoff, “I’m scared of my parents dying, or my uncles dying, or anyone else on this Watchpoint dying. Like, all the time. And I’m scared of losing my home. All the time.”

“...oh,” said Jaime.

“You thought this was easy?” said Rei.

“...you go to school, and you have lunches and...” Jaime trailed off. Rei was glancing off, too.

An awkward pause passed between the three of them. Bastion at this point seemed to occupy itself with weeding the garden.

“No one knows why McCree’s a cowboy,” said Samir, at last, “That’s just how he is.” Another long pause passed and Samir cleared his throat. “You know, you’re probably going to want food with a longer shelf-life so..”

“Mess hall!” Rei blurted out.

“Right,” said Samir, spinning another teleporter into existence.

Jaime visibly tensed at the sight of another teleporter and Samir quickly waved it off into sparkling oblivion with a flick of his wrist. “Or we could walk! Walking is good!”

“‘We?’” said Rei.

“Well it’s not like we get a lot of visitors,” said Samir, hefting up his basket of oranges and stepping up next to them. Samir and Rei gave a wave to Bastion, who only briefly glanced up from a butterfly resting on a tomato flower to wave back at them as they left the garden.

“...so you live on the Watchpoint too?” said Jaime, walking with Rei and Samir. The three of them walked another cliffside path to a road that needed some re-paving ribboning through the watchpoint. Jaime was periodically grabbing oranges out of Samir’s basket, peeling and eating them as they walked.

“There’s just four of us,” said Samir, “There’s Rei, Marti, me, and my brother, Rajeev. We actually all go to the same school, but Rajeev and I are in lower grades.”

“Ah...” said Jaime, now feeling a little foolish for trying to keep up the ‘I’m Rei’s classmate’ lie, “...and your parents just... teach you being about being a ninja or using hard-light?”

“It took forever to convince Dad and Uncle to let me start training,” said Rei with a huff,  “Dad was okay with me learning Kendo, but he and Mom were so weird about me learning any actual ninja stuff. But I was climbing everything on the Watchpoint anyway so Uncle started teaching me stuff ‘so I wouldn’t hurt myself.’”

“For me, my Mom just uses hard-light for everything,” said Samir with a shrug, “It’s just kind of how we do everything. Cooking, cleaning, exercise---”

“Basketball,” said Rei as the road opened up to the watchpoint tarmac.

“That falls under exer--oh,” Samir was cut off by the pang pang pang of a basketball on blacktop glanced up to see a large hard-light basketball hoop set up in front of the watchpoint mess hall. Marti was guarding the hoop, in a tense cat-like position while Rajeev was furiously dribbling the ball in front of her, trying to get past her. Marti glanced over her shoulder at them.

“Rei?” Marti blinked a few times and looked at Jaime, “Isn’t that the--”

 She was cut off as Rajeev dipped to the side of her and jumped up to make a slam-dunk, only to have the entire basketball hoop dematerialize with the impact of his weight. He stumbled to the ground and the basketball smacked against the pavement and went flying. Jaime caught it out of the air.

“Boom!” Rajeev threw his arms up into the air, “Dunked it too hard! Too powerful!”

“I’m pretty sure the basket only dissolved because you need to dial up the shock absorption,” said Samir, with a huff.

“Details,” said Rajeev with a hand wave.

“What’s going on?” said Marti, looking between Rei and Jaime, “What’s he doing here?”

“I’m just helping him grab some stuff before he takes off,” said Rei with a shrug.

“...he’s taking off?” said Marti, “What did McCree say?”

“Well...” Rei trailed off.

“Rei,” Marti folded her arms.

“I mean he’s going to run off anyway!” said Rei.

“It’s true,” said Jaime with a shrug, still holding the basketball.

“And go back to stealing and dumpster-diving?” said Marti.

“What do you care?” said Jaime.

“You’re just a kid,” said Marti.

“So?” said Jaime a bit more stiffly.

“And you ran away from Vishkar,” Samir piped up.

“You ran away from Vishkar!?” Rajeev’s face lit up.

“And he outran Rei and Marti for like, 3 hours,” said Samir.

“He didn’t outrun me, he cheated,” said Rei.

“He outran us,” Marti confirmed. 

“Woah...” Rajeev looked back at Jaime. He pointed at the basketball still in Jaime’s hand, “Wanna play a round?”

“What, just like that?” said Jaime.

Rajeev shrugged. “It’s just basketball. We don’t get a lot of visitors to the Watchpoint.” 

“...I don’t know if that’s a good idea...” Jaime said quietly, bounce-passing the ball to Marti.

“It’s a good idea,” said Marti, bounce-passing the ball back to him.

Jaime looked at her.

“I get what it feels like to not feel safe anywhere,” said Marti, “But...this place...”

“This place is about as safe from Vishkar as you can get,” said Samir, finishing her thought.

Jaime looked down at the ball and then his eyes flicked to Rei. “You don’t actually want to play with me,” he said, bouncing the ball to her.

“I don’t know about ‘play,’” said Rei, dribbling the ball thoughtfully, “But I gotta show the twins that you outrunning me was just a fluke somehow.” She chest-passed it so hard to him he rocked back on his heels.

“Oh it’s like that?” said Jaime, passing the ball back to her.

“It’s like that,” said Rei, bouncing the ball back.

“We can play guys vs. girls!” said Rajeev.

“That’s three on two,” said Samir.

“Two on two, each team gets a twin,” said Marti, “Rei and Rajeev vs Jaime and Samir. Sound fair?”

“What about you?” said Rei.

“I’ll be sneaking stuff out of the mess hall,” said Marti with a slight smile at Jaime, “Just for good faith.”

“How is it good faith if we’re still stea--” Rajeev started but Samir elbowed him.

“I shouldn’t stay that long,” Jaime said, 

“First to five?” said Samir, as he and Rajeev materialized a new hard-light hoop.

“...I’ve got time for first to five,” said Jaime.

----

“I meant to ask,” said Hanzo as the two of them briskly walked out of the hangar, “Did you and  the others come to a consensus about what should be done?” McCree fished the foster home pamphlet out of his back pocket and held it out to Hanzo. “...Ah,” said Hanzo.

“I mean, it’s obvious, ain’t it?” said McCree glancing off, “It’s not like he actually wants to be here...”

Hanzo studied McCree’s profile for a few seconds. “You’re not okay with this,” Hanzo said quietly.

“What?” said McCree, “I mean, I’ll be okay about it. I just gotta...” he trailed off, “Y’know.”

“He’s a lot like you,” said Hanzo, as they walked through one of the watchpoint’s cannibalized server rooms.

“You know, this would be easier if people stopped sayin’ that,” said McCree, pausing to examine a panel which had been removed from the wall.

Hanzo glanced off, “Do you remember when we would look after Rei when Genji and Angela were busy?”

“Oh don’t start---” McCree pressed the brim of his hat down.

“You loved it. You loved her. You listened to her babbling like it was the most important and interesting thing in the world.”

“That’s---”

“You even volunteered us for helping out with the twins when they were born.  And when Marti came to the Watchpoint you were constantly checking in to make sure she was settling in all right.”

“That’s babysitting! That’s kids you can walk away from!” said McCree, as they both walked out of the server room.

“But none of the children on this Watchpoint forgot that. They go to you when they feel like they can’t talk to their parents about something, you haven’t noticed that?”

“Well, maybe that’s because they don’t see me as an authority figure like everyone else--not a good ‘In local parentals’ factor,” said McCree.

“In loco parentis,” said Hanzo.

“See? I don’t know shit!”

“It’s not a matter of them not respecting you, it’s a matter of them seeing you as someone who respects them,” said Hanzo, “You’re coming from a childhood where you were largely relying on yourself... the adult figure you are to these children is the one you wish you had in your life. And it’s why Jaime was able to trust you enough to get his wrist looked at rather than just run off.”

“Hanzo, what are you gettin’ at, here?”

“You want to be a father--You’ve probably wanted to be a father ever since Rei was born. Possibly even earlier.”

“Well yeah, but there’s wanting something, and then knowing you’ll be shit at it,” said McCree, “I’m not like you, all... together.”

“You think I would be a good father?” a laugh rippled Hanzo’s voice and he noted the apparent hurt in McCree’s expression, “Oh... you actually...”

“You were a got-dang wizard with Rei! She still idolizes you! You’re always... prepared!” McCree furrowed his brow and thought for a second, “Did you ever want kids?”

“...In a sense, but...” Hanzo glanced down, “I didn’t think it would be fair to them. My father spent my childhood molding me into another, well, him. And as Genji can probably tell you, he wasn’t a good person. I don’t... I don’t want to inflict that on a child.”

“You would never,” said McCree on reflex, “Me on the other hand...” he shuddered, “If I became another kid’s Reyes...” he trailed off, “...we never really talked about this, did we?” he said at last.

“Well, given the fact that Overwatch is throwing us into near-constant danger and we never had to worry about pregnancy...” Hanzo trailed off, “Let’s just focus on finding him.”

“I hear that,” said McCree, “It ain’t about us. It’s about him.” McCree’s boot hit an odd texture and he glanced down.

“Orange peel,” said Hanzo, plucking up a bit of the waxy rind from the blacktop. They looked at the small trail of bits of orange peel like breadcrumbs through the watchpoint.

“Could be another macaque,” said McCree.

“Too clean,” said Hanzo.

“Welp, it’s a lead,” said McCree, following the trail. It lead them on a meandering path through the watchpoint, a fairly straight line towards the mess hall.

The trail of orange peel tapered off to nothingness and McCree frowned, but then his head jerked up at the sound of Rei shouting. He gave a glance back to Hanzo and both of them picked up their pace, rounding the corner to see Jaime, Rei, and the twins all involved in an intense game of basketball around one hard-light hoop. Rei was passing to Rajeev, getting intercepted by Jaime who would shoot for the basket, only to be intercepted by Rajeev. They didn’t even notice McCree and Hanzo coming out from behind a building’s corner, but McCree hung back. He fished the foster home brochure out of the back of his pocket, he glanced down at the photo of the smiling family at the table laden with pancakes, then glanced back up at the four kids laughing and shouting at each other as they scrambled around the basketball hoop. 

The sensible voice in his head spoke up, saying, Do what’s best for him. He deserves normal, but then an angrier voice spoke, What the hell is normal anyway? There hasn’t been a normal ever since the goddamn Omnic Crisis. It’s not about ‘normal’ it’s about ‘home.’ And when the hell has ‘home’ ever been normal for anyone?

“Jesse?” Hanzo’s voice cut through McCree’s train of thought and McCree glanced over at him, “Do you think we should...?” He looked back at Jaime intercepting a shot from Rei and then laughing about it.

“...I mean, he doesn’t have to go right away, does he?” said McCree, watching as Jaime managed to snatch the ball back from Rajeev and get an assist from Samir.

“Not... right away,” said Hanzo.

[animal-moon-harvest-crossing]

Magical Melody Remake - A Wishlist

Based off my post from yesterday that I wrote!

MM generally gets a bad rap, I think, from the fandom overall. Which is fair, in all honesty! And as a kid, it was frustrating to play! But now as an adult, I treat playing MM as a challenge to overcome, and once you get past the clunky controls, it’s actually a very fun game to play!

So, if I were in charge of remaking MM for the Switch, here’s some of the changes I would implement, or like to see.

The controls are the first, obviously. MM is so notoriously slow, with how it takes a few seconds to get your character moving into a run, the menus, pretty much...Everything. And there was no real reason to have it like that, so I would hope that would be the first thing to get fixed lol.

Proper volume control!!! I dunno how I put up with it as a kid, but now as an adult, I can’t stand hearing all the little “beeps” and “boops” when I’m going through all the menus. I now turn the volume of my tv way down, or just off when I’m playing the game because there’s no option to turn the SFXs off. I have the same issue with basically...All older HM games. But that’s probably just a me thing :’D

So I actually am a fan of the layout of Flowderbud Village 2.0! MM’s unique gimmick is that you start off with 1 of 3 properties to build on, then start buying up more and more as you progress, to the point where you can basically own more land than the town itself! I really enjoy this system, and I feel it makes the farming experience much more unique being able to have your “main hub” kinda anywhere on the map. 

So of course we gotta talk about the character models- Most people have an issue with everyone looking like weird chibi baby things. I personally was never too bothered, but I wouldn’t mind them getting “updated” either. Not like the models that are in the current FoMT game, but something that just doesn’t make everyone look like...that lol. I wouldn’t mind it as much if they were also given portraits as well when you talk to them.

And not just updated models, but also updated designs as well! So the cast of MM is a mix between characters that appeared in SNES AND in Save the Homeland/Hero of Leaf Valley. The SNES characters did get some updated looks, as they’re not those EXACT same characters, but I would love to see everyone get a wardrobe update that set them apart as brand new characters, or as the decendents of who they’re based off of. 

Interesting to note though, that some of the characters who share a name and likeness to SNES...Are actually their grandkids! Or, most of them are! Eve will mention that she’s named after her grandmother, who she looks very similar to. The implication is that Eve from SNES is her grandmother! I think she’s the only one who mentions it, but other SNES bachelorettes are also clearly based off those counterparts. MM!Ellen works on the ranch, but she loves to bake, and your rival for her is Carl, a patissiuer. Ann is an aspiring inventor, just like her SNES counterpart. Maria, the Mayor’s daughter, was also his daughter in SNES and also worked at the library. Nina looks basically the same, and also works on the farm that sells seeds, and still loves flowers! There’s a lot of hidden lore for these characters that you can only learn about if you happen to catch them at the right places (usually at home, try it out sometime!)

I would...Totally get rid of their “voices”. Some of them sound okay, but others...Ahheehhhh. May as well just dump ‘em altogether lol.

Let! Us! Continue! Playing! The! Game! If! We! Marry! Jaime!! In the original Japanese version, Jaime was just like all the other bachelors/ettes, and in that same version, there were rival marriages! Both these features were removed for the North American version. I’m not sure if they were put back in for the Wii re-release, but I doubt they were.

Which speaking of marriage...Of course the chance to romance both bachelors and bachelorettes!! But also, keep Jaime androgynous! The original (English) player booklet for the GCN mentions only one that Jaime will “always be the opposite sex” of your character. But even then, Jaime is never referred to with pronouns or gendered language in the English version of the game. I know something similar happened with Inari in Trio of Towns, so I just hope xSeed would continue it!

The child growing up into an actual, well, child! Back in the day, your son (and yes it was usually always a son) would learn to walk at most, and then that would be it! He’d be stuck in diapers and his little mouse hat forever! I would love for the child to now wear clothes, take off the hat (or maybe wear a baseball cap??), and be able to talk to you and participate in events around town.  As for the look of your child, I’ve always been a sucker for “your child physically resembles who you married but dresses like you”. 

Make training the horse freeaaaaaking easier!!! I’ve never won a Horse Race because I couldn’t figure out beforehand how to properly train my horse. It’s based off hearts but also star level?? But getting the horse in and out of the barn is so tedious that I just...Don’t bother half the time. Sorry horsey!!

And speaking of the barn, and the coop for that matter, an actual, proper bell that you can use from the outside. Also, maybe not use up stamina when using the makers?? I don’t know why that was a thing to begin with, but it’d be real annoying to waste stamina on that first BEFORE getting to water your crops. Luckily, this was back in the day when crops only needed to be watered once a day but still.

The whole stamina system would need a re-do. I hate that just about EVERYTHING cost stamina to do, requiring you to basically stop playing for that day or to go out of your way to get food to restore it. This is especially annoying in your first spring before the inn and the bar are built, and money is harder to come by.

Keeping the tools separate from the inventory? I really hated how this became a thing moving onwards, where tools would take up precious item slots in your tiny rucksack. And since the basket didn’t really make a reappearance in this game in particular, it was extremely difficult trying to explore and forage in the early game with all your tools taking up space. I make a routine of running in and out of my house and keeping the tool box right by the front door to swap them in and out, and...I shouldn’t have to but that’s the best system I have. So it’d be nice to Not have to do that again!

Music Notes; I can take ‘em or leave ‘em. I don’t mind the challenge of them being there, and it feels kinda nice to always have something to work towards. I know they’re a part of the plot, but it’s still so exciting to even now unlock them at random.

That’s all I can think of for now! Did you think of something different? What are you feelings on Magical Melody as a whole, and what would you like to change about it?

[takingcourage]

Additions: Part Six

Here’s a link to my masterlist if you need to catch up! 

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 3,600

Summary: The Lewis household prepares for the arrival of its sixth member. 

Note: Thanks for your patience, friends. I’m sorry this update has been so long in coming. Grading took all of my brainpower (and most of my free time) toward the end of the year, and it’s taken some time to get back into the habit of working with words for fun. 

Only an epilogue left to go!

July, 2028

“Can I ask a personal question?”

Arden came to the end of the line she was reading and raised her head slowly. Sophia traced every movement, mouth tugged to the side like it always was when she was trying to gauge reactions. 

It was almost frightening how skilled the teenager was at picking up on nonverbal cues. In the year they’d spent together, Arden had learned more about her own body language from her daughter’s thoughts than she had in over decade of working in television. 

Realizing she still hadn’t answered the question, Arden bobbed her head in assent. “Sure.” 

“Are you pregnant?”

Arden sucked a breath. It was hardly the question she’d expected. 

“Yes…” she began tentatively, then set the packet of coffee on the counter. Ignoring the bag of grounds, she turned to face Sophia. “We were waiting until after Family Day to tell you and the boys,” she offered by way of explanation. 

Her daughter dumped another spoonful of granola into her morning yogurt. “Makes sense.” Sophia paused to meet Arden’s eyes before resealing the container. “I don’t think they’ve noticed anything, but you’ve been acting weird lately. Drinking decaf coffee and taking pills and stuff. My second grade teacher was always complaining about that when she was pregnant.”

Ignoring the glimpse into her daughter’s past, she motioned for her to follow into the dining room. “Sophia,” she began, sitting so that she could look the girl directly in the eyes. “I know you probably weren’t expecting this when you came to live here. Jaime and I weren’t either. But I need you to know that won’t change anything about how much we love you and your brothers.”

A glint of uncertainty passed over her daughter’s face, but it vanished quickly. “Well, no. I know that,” she insisted, forcing a laugh. 

The pit in Arden’s stomach loomed at the unnatural sound. This is exactly what I was hoping to avoid. How do I fix it? 

The girl avoided her gaze and picked up her spoon. When her eyes rose from the woodgrain of the table, Arden could just see the glisten of unshed tears. 

“Sophia...”

“I’ll be okay,” she insisted, dropping the spoon and nudging her bowl a few inches forward. “It’s kind of a lot though.” 

Tell me about it, Arden considered, heart wrenching as she watched her daughter battle with her emotions. “Jaime and I are excited, but it’s a lot for us too. We’ve loved having a family of five.” 

“Yeah.”

“And we’ll figure out what it means to be a family of six.” She might have missed the solitary tear on Sophia’s cheek if she hadn’t seen the hand she raised to bat it away. Arden opened her mouth in reassurance, but Sophia cut her off before she could speak. 

“Don’t worry -- I’m okay. I’m fine.” The tremor in her voice suggested otherwise. 

Arden considered challenging the assertion, but thought better of it. “I’m still getting used to the idea. It means adding onto the house again and figuring out a lot of things with work. Things may get tricky.”

“I can share a room with the boys again, if it helps.”

Arden mentally kicked herself for bringing up that aspect of their preparations. Of course her people-pleasing daughter would want to volunteer anything she could think of. “Absolutely not. No one’s giving up any bedrooms. We’ve got it figured out.”

“Okay.”

“And not to pressure you, but this baby is so, so lucky to have you as an older sister. You’re pretty incredible.”

“Thanks,” Sophia muttered, pulling her breakfast back within reach. “I’ve gotten lots of practice with the boys.” 

Arden slid her palm across the table with emphasis. “Think you can handle one more?”

Sophia’s free hand stretched toward her until their fingers met in the middle. “Probably.” Fresh panic drained all color from her features, and her brow worried itself into knots. “As long as it’s not another brother.” 

Laughter sprang to Arden’s lips as she drew her hand back. “I’ve been hoping for a girl too. It’d be nice not to be outnumbered anymore.” 

“Good.” The syllable floated across the table almost conspiratorially. “I don’t want to be like that princess in Cordonia. Three brothers is too many.” 

"Three brothers is a lot...but maybe don’t tell the boys that I said that?”

Sophia smirked around her spoon. When she finished the bite, the expression had turned to a smile. “I won’t tell them anything. Promise.” 

_____

August, 2028

This definitely doesn’t fit anymore, Arden determined, standing before her full-length mirror. In most outfits, no one would even realize she was pregnant. At four months along, she was still getting by with wearing looser clothes and staying away from her trademark pencil skirts when she was at work. This particular garment was an aberration. 

The “safe” bathing suit she used for family outings had made a lot of sense at the time of purchase more than a year ago, but the additional fabric now meant that the entire top was embarrassingly tight.

“Damn, Arden. Your body is amazing. ” 

She treated her husband to a small reflected smile and untied the straps behind her neck. “Amazing or not, I’m definitely not going swimming like this.” Jaime helped to ease the fabric over her shoulders, fingers skimming her ribs along the way. She shivered at the contact and leaned back against his chest. 

“I would hope not. If we ever decide to go skinny dipping again, the kids are definitely not invited...” he trailed off upon noting the tension in her shoulders. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

Arden leaned forward to dig through the open drawer, wondering if she could pretend not to have heard the question. He squeezed her side with a gentle hand. 

“It’s just... I keep thinking about next summer. We’ll have the baby’s schedule to work with and we won’t be able to take off and do fun things with the kids whenever we want to...” The words ended in a sigh as she met his eyes in the mirror. 

Jaime’s brows knit together. “You’re worried?”

“Aren’t you?” 

He thumbed the seam of her discarded suit, gaze dropping as he considered her question. I want this baby, Arden. 

“I want it too,” she assured, interrupting his thoughtful silence. “But so much is changing again and I just got used to it being this way. Our kids just got used to things and now we’re changing it all again.”

How many times do I have to tell you that we’ll solve this together? Please stop freaking out. 

His whispered thought cut through her escalating worries. 

“I didn’t mean to think that.” 

“I know,” she groaned. Thinking better of her initial response, she tried to lighten the mood. “But it’s true. We will figure it out...eventually. I just hate feeling so uncertain.” 

Tossing the bathing suit to the mattress, he held his arms open with invitation. For a moment, she pressed her cheek to his chest and tried to set her fears aside. 

“The kids are going to be fine,” Jaime asserted. "Will’s already started bragging about how he isn’t going to be the baby anymore, and you know Sophia is happy that she’ll finally have a sister. Alex is gonna come around sooner or later. He just needs more time.”

“That child always needs more time...” she muttered, turning back to the drawer to find a suitable replacement. “I love him dearly, but it’d be a lot easier if he just processed things as they happened instead of bottling them up.” 

Jaime’s brow quivered at the complaint, and it wasn’t long before Arden took his meaning. 

“Stop! I’ve gotten a lot better.” 

He took the fastenings of her new swimsuit and began working. “Yes, you have. Alex will get there someday too.” 

“I really hope so.” 

“Maybe even today!” he offered, something akin to a challenge in his eye. 

She brushed it off and directed her eyes toward the ceiling. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“And you love me for it,” he deduced, capturing her lips in a kiss as he released the fastened straps. 

“Very much.” She caught his eye in the mirror again, but this time the smile was genuine. They had every right to be optimistic, of course. This was just the latest in the series of hurdles their family had faced. If their track record was anything to go by, everything was going to work out...eventually. 

_____

October, 2028

"Last call for trick or treating!”

Will was testing out the length of his sleeves in the hall mirror, but Jaime’s announcement gave him pause. Seizing the subsequent chance to pester his brother, he darted into the living room. “Please come! We’ll get twice as much candy.” 

Alex burrowed deeper into the couch cushions and shoved another handful of popcorn into his mouth. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” Jaime deduced, trading glances with Arden. 

In the kitchen and out of Alex’s view, Arden gave him a small shrug. Their eldest son had been adamant that he was too old this year. In spite of his brother’s relentless cheer and encouragement, he appeared to be standing his ground. 

“I’ll bring you back some Skittles,” Will flourished his bag as if to make good on the promise. “Do you think Sophia’s getting candy at Ava’s house? I’ll try to get some extras for her too.” 

“That’s really sweet of you, bud,” Jaime encouraged, guiding him into the hall. “I’m sure she’d love that.” 

“Last call?” Will echoed in a pitiful refrain as he trudged toward the door. 

Mouth full, Alex murmured an approximation of, “I’m good.” 

“Have fun, you guys! We’ll stay here and hold down the fort.” After waving them off, Arden returned to the living room. “Ready to start this thing?”

“Sure.” 

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Alex’s feigned nonchalance. Like he hasn’t been asking to see this film for months, she quipped internally, mashing her thumb against the play button on the remote. 

The dull screen came to life, and a quick glance was enough to tell Arden that her son was much more engaged in the proceedings than he was willing to let on. Turning her attention to her own bowl of popcorn, she sorted through the pieces to find which ones had the most color. 

Stupid salt cravings.

Keeping one eye on the screen, she fell to musing. It seemed like she'd been measuring months for an eternity, fixated somewhat arbitrarily on the one-year anniversary of having the kids with them. Now that they'd passed it, time had started to fly. The fact that this was already their second Halloween together was baffling. Soon, they'd pass their second Thanksgiving, second Christmas, second New Year's Eve...

The doorbell chimed, yanking her back to reality.

Vaguely aware of the car chase taking place before her, Arden set the bowl aside and moved to answer the door. A strange weightlessness came over her as she stood, but darkness clouded her vision before she could move further. 

Arden woke slowly, floating and devoid of sense. Tingling returned in increments through her fingertips, creeping along the rest of her skin as she tried vainly to clear the cobwebs from her head. A firm hand gripped her shoulder, but it took several moments to place it.

"Arden? Arden, you okay?" Alex's voice was the most concrete thing that she could latch onto.

"M'fine," she managed around a cottony tongue. "I must have gotten dizzy."

With some effort, she trained her eyes on the boy. Sweat beaded across her forehead as her body attempted to reset itself, and she felt the flush run through her core and out over her limbs. 

"I think -- I think you fainted. I looked up and you fell over all of a sudden."

She blinked, mind too fuzzy to formulate a response. 

Alex stared back with pleading eyes, his worry etched in every crease of his brow. “Is the baby okay?” Please let my sister be okay. 

Even in her disoriented state, her throat immediately thickened. That simple shift from the baby to my sister spoke volumes. “Yeah, I just stood up too fast. Sometimes that happens.” 

“Do you need medicine? I can get it for you if you tell me where it is, or --”

Arden sat up straight, brushing a hand through the air in protest. “I just haven’t had enough to drink today. I’ll be fine.”

“Lemme get you some water.” 

Her head had stopped swimming by the time he returned with a brim-full glass. 

“Lemme know if you need more when that’s gone,” he offered, handing her the drink. “And are you sure you’re okay? I don’t...” the words trailed, but she heard the rest of the sentence: I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. 

“Alex, listen to me. The baby and I are going to be fine. We’re so much better already.” She made a show of drinking from the glass. “This is going to help too. I’ll let you know if anything changes. In the meantime, don’t worry -- okay?”

“Okay. But I’m gonna take care of all the trick or treaters from now on. You can stay on the couch and get better. We don’t even have to watch the rest of the movie if you don’t want to.” 

She took another long sip to counteract the sudden ache in the back of her throat. “Nope, I want to finish it. We’ve got to figure out what happens to those kids who got lost in the woods.” 

“Oh, yeah.” He tried to keep his eyes on the screen, but she felt him staring at her countless times as the film progressed. Quiet as he was, his thoughts spoke for him: nothing in the movie was going to scare him as much as what he’d already seen. 

That unspoken burst of feeling was all she was likely to get from her middle child, but it was more than enough to satisfy. As usual, Jaime was right. Alex was coming around after all. 

_____

February, 2029

The snow had just started to fall when Jaime pulled into the driveway. The morning temperatures had been just enough to thaw some of last week’s snow, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before the streets were coated in ice. 

“C’mon, let’s get inside before we freeze.”

“Do we still have hot chocolate?” Sophia asked, shutting the car door a little harder than she needed to. The force of the movement suggested she already knew the answer to the question. 

Jaime unlocked the front door, gesturing for the teenager to enter the house before him. “We’ll make sure to add cocoa mix to the list on the counter. Julie offered to run by the grocery store later this evening.” 

“I bet Alex drank all of it while we were gone.”

The offending brother was nowhere to be found -- a likely sign that he was in his bedroom. Will looked up briefly when they came in, but was soon engaged again in the round of checkers he and Harry were playing at the coffee table. 

“’Scuse me,” Harry offered in apology, pausing their game to follow Jaime toward the coat closet. 

Jaime faced his father in law with an easy grin. “Hey! Thanks again for helping out this afternoon. How’d it go?”

The other man pulled a skeptical face as Jaime shrugged out of his coat. “She’s trying to do too much. When we got here, she was unloading the dishwasher and listening to Will’s reading practice and everything. She thinks that baby carrier means she can do anything.”

With a sigh, Jaime eased the sleeves over the hanger. The image his father-in-law described came to his mind all too readily. He’d spent the past three weeks preventing as much undue exertion as possible, but there was only so much he could do. “Harry, I stopped trying to control your daughter a long time ago. We both know she’s going to do those things whether we want her to or not. The rest of us do as much as we can, but she got an extra dose of stubbornness from somewhere.” 

“That’s why we were here,” Julie cut in with a hand at Harry’s elbow. “I went and stayed with my son for two whole weeks when his wife had their first baby. The least I can do is come by every once in a while to help around the house.” 

“We all appreciate it -- truly,” Jaime assured. “I take it Arden’s upstairs?”

A door slammed from the direction of the boys’ room, and Alex’s voice spilled into the hallway, “It wasn’t me! There was still a packet and a half the last time I had any.” 

“Brothers are such...” Sophia censored herself as she passed the group of adults. At her pasted-on smile, Jaime raised an eyebrow before giving his focus back to his in-laws. 

“Last I knew, she took the baby up there to nurse. That was about half an hour ago, I think.” 

“I’ll go check in and let her know we’re back.” 

Jaime climbed the stairs, cautiously testing the handle of their door before swinging the whole thing open. He’d interrupted their daughter’s naps just a handful of times, but they’d been enough to make him wary of doing it again. 

Arden stirred as he came in, her voice quiet, but fully awake. “What time is it?” 

“A little bit after 4:00. Did I wake you up?” His wife was in the center of their bed, body curled protectively around the weeks-old infant that lay inside. 

“No, there was some noise downstairs.” At Jaime’s sigh, she continued, “ It’s fine; they didn’t know. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in the first place.”

“I’m still sorry you had to wake up to a fight about hot chocolate packets.”

“At least it’s a change of pace. I don’t remember the last time I woke up to something other than crying.” 

“Me neither,” he agreed, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. From this position, one tiny fist was visible. The rest of the newborn’s body was shielded from view, but the glimpse was enough.

Their baby was perfect. So perfect, in fact, that Jaime knew he could go the rest of his life without making anything that could ever compare. Each exquisite feature, from her thick crop of dark brown hair to the slender toes he knew were curled tight beneath the flannel of her pajamas, proved that their daughter was a work of art.

He’d never put much stock in blood relations. The few family members that he vaguely remembered from childhood had disappeared from his life long ago. 

And even though he didn’t love this baby any more than he loved the three kids downstairs, this love was a little different, somehow. Already, there were traces of Arden in this child -- traces of him. Their family had never felt like it was missing anything, but none of them could deny how much more complete it felt now that Lindy had entered the scene.

“How was the concert?” Arden asked, startling him from his musings. 

“You’ll have to ask Sophia about it later, but I’d call her pre-birthday celebration a success.”

“I’m sure she loved it.”

“I am too,” Jaime beamed, remembering how intently their daughter had watched all of the proceedings onstage. “And she loved getting to stick around and meet the musicians. Tony said to tell you hi, by the way.” 

"Did you tell him hi back?” she inquired before her mouth was hijacked by a yawn. 

“Of course. How have things been here?”

“Fine when I came up. Dad’s been telling me not to do so much, but what else is new?” 

“And Lindy?”  

Arden hiked a hand through her hair and arched her back, rolling toward him so that he could see the sleeping baby clearly. “As happy and sleepy as always,” she whispered, eyes following his to watch the sleeping infant. 

“We got so lucky.”

Arden smothered another yawn against her hand. “You know that saying that is practically asking for trouble, right? She’s not even a month old yet.”

“Look how well she’s fit in so far. Besides, it’s kind of hard not to think she’s perfect when she’s got your cute little nose and eyebrows.”

“And your toes, unfortunately…” 

Jaime shoved out his chin in retaliation. “Maybe she’ll have long fingers like me too,” he wondered, reaching out a hand to brush the hair from Arden’s forehead. “You’ve always complained about how short yours are.”

“They’re terrible for typing and playing instruments. Why do you think our band never worked out?”

“There were a lot of reasons...” he reflected. With the pad of his index finger, he followed the dimpled line at Lindy’s wrist. The baby continued to sleep despite his intrusion, her serene face turned toward Jaime’s body. 

“What are you thinking about?”

He rubbed his jawline with a wry smile. “I’m pretty sure you know what it is already.” 

“Maybe,” she evaded coyly. “Humor me anyway?”

“That you’re still my best girl, but you’re not the only girl in my life anymore. And that I’m pretty damn lucky to have three amazing ladies in my family.”

“The boys are pretty great too,” she reminded with a fond smile, allowing both eyes to flutter shut. 

“Arden?”

One eyelid rose. “Uh-huh?”

“I think we might have the best family ever.” 

She grinned at the absurd statement. “We’re so biased. But I think you may be right.” 

[dancinginthecenteroftheworld]

A prompt (if you haven't got enough of them already): Jamie and Brienne are roommates. If Jaime hasn't done laundry recently, sometimes he borrows her t-shirts or sweat pants or whatever. This time, however, Brienne has just been way too busy, and all her underwear is dirty.

Jaime borrows her clothes all the time. No matter how much Brienne yells at him for it. So borrowing Jaime’s clothes should, in theory, not be all that weird. After all, Brienne would have more clean clothes herself, if half her tee shirts and a good chunk of her sweat pants hadn’t disappeared into Jaime’s closet. 

It’s just the matter of which article of clothing Brienne needs that is giving her pause.

This is what happens when you work too many twelve hour days in a row. You run out of clean clothes. Brienne should have learned this lesson last election season, but apparently she hasn’t. 

And now her underwear drawer is empty, and while Brienne can justify re-wearing a sweater, jeans, even her dress pants, recycling dirty underwear is a bridge too far. 

She could go commando, a voice in her head suggests. The voice sounds a lot like Margaery, who would undoubtedly forgo underwear without a care. 

Brienne just can’t, though. The idea makes her feel so uncomfortable, and she knows with her luck, the one day in her life she skips underwear would be the day she gets in a car accident or tears her pants on set. 

So she’s in Jaime’s room, staring at his open dresser drawer while wrapped in a bath towel that barely goes past her hips, because all her extra large bath sheets have also somehow disappeared. 

Brienne is going to yell at Jaime next time she sees him, she really is. But right now the more pressing issues is finding underwear and making it to work in time for another long, exhausting day.

The rows of boxer briefs look somehow intimidating. Brienne tells herself it will be just like her usual boyshorts. And Jaime won’t even know, considering how little attention he pays to things like laundry. She can wash them when she finally gets around to doing her own clothes and slip them back in the drawer. 

Never mind that thinking about putting something Jaime has worn against his naked skin, against very personal areas of his naked skin, makes Brienne feel a little light-headed. 

Except that as soon as Brienne gathers the courage to step into a pair of black briefs and pull them up, the door to the room swings open behind her. She hears it, just like she hears the sharp intake of breath from Jaime. 

Brienne stares at the wall in front of her. Maybe if she doesn’t say anything, Jaime will just turn around go away and they can just pretend this never happened. 

Brienne is not that lucky. 

“Are you wearing my underwear?” Jaime’s voice sounds strained and Brienne is reminded that this is very much not a normal roommate thing to do. Especially when your roommate is a different gender. Especially when you haven’t asked.

“I”m sorry,” Brienne’s hand hovers over her hip, the other one clutching her towel tighter. She feels like she should take them off, but she also feels like that is an even worse idea. “I’m out of clean laundry and you always steal my clothes.”

“I don’t steal your underwear.” Jaime’s voice sounds closer. Brienne hunches in on herself, wondering if she can some how make herself small enough to slip by him unnoticed. 

“I’m sorry,” Brienne says again. She’s going to have to move. Which is a shame, because she really likes this apartment, it’s so close to work and has great light and she’s going to miss it a lot when she goes. “I shouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t say that.” Jaime’s voice is even closer, yet Brienne still jumps when he settles his hands over her hips. “Have you borrowed my underwear before?”

“No,” Brienne manages to get out, thankful that at least she can give a reasonable answer. 

“But you’re wearing it now.” Jaime’s breath is hot against Brienne’s neck.

Brienne nods, slightly and then feels Jaime’s forehead against her hair as he groans. Jaime’s hands flex on her hips. Brienne isn’t sure what’s going on. 

“Fuck, Brienne,” Jaime breathes. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Brienne’s voice has deserted her entirely and she just shakes her head. 

“I shouldn’t be jealous of a piece of fabric,” Jaime says and Brienne’s brain flat-lines momentarily because that doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. 

Jaime pulls her back against him and Brienne might not have ever felt a man’s cock before but there’s no mistaking what’s pressing up against her. She gasps despite herself and feels Jaime wrap one arm around her waist, pulling her tighter. 

“How come it gets to touch you?” Jaime mutters. “When I don’t?”

Brienne wonders if the buzzing in her ears is real or if this is all some strange hallucination. Maybe she’s actually lying on the floor of her room, half-conscious. 

“I don’t understand,” she finally gets out. 

“What’s to understand?” Jaime rocks his hips against her, nuzzles his nose against her neck. “You wearing my underwear is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen it,” Brienne points out, before the sentence registers. Because she’s still got a towel on. And she’s pretty sure the door didn’t open until she was basically done pulling them on.

She hopes the door didn’t open until she was done. 

“Will you show me?” Jaime spins her around then, facing him and Brienne searches his face for a sign of what’s going on. It has to be a joke, it has to be, but Jaime’s eyes are dark as he stares at her, his lips parted and his breath coming slightly faster than usual. “It’s only fair.” 

His hands move to the edges of her towel as he talks, slow enough that Brienne could stop him if she wanted to. Even with one hand still clutching the top of the towel around her chest. She should stop him. 

Brienne doesn’t stop him, as Jaime pulls the edges of the towel apart and drops his gaze.

Brienne can’t help following where he looks, wonders what he’s seeing as he looks down, the front looser than she’s used to, her thick thighs making the legs fit with no problem. She hasn’t shaved, and there’s a fuzz of white blond hair scattered across her pale skin and stubborn freckles. 

The noise Jaime makes is not one Brienne imagined a man would ever make around her. 

“Fuck,” Jaime says, and keeps staring. 

“I have to go to work,” Brienne finally says, because she’s getting increasingly confused standing there. 

Increasingly aroused, too, and she hopes it isn’t noticeable. 

Jaime lets her go, and Brienne fixes her eyes at a spot over his shoulder as she starts to step around him. 

“I’ll give them back after I wash them,” she says, hoping to restore some sense of normalcy to this strange situation. Which can’t possibly mean what it seems like it means. “Or not. I can throw them out.”

“Give them back.” Jaime catches her wrist before she can get too far. “But Brienne?”

Brienne still doesn’t look at him, though she turns slightly to show she’s listening.

“Don’t wash them.”

[secondgenerationnerd]

What is the question that your characters would least like to answer in front of their s/o?

Lol 😂 heads up some of these are just straight weird/sexual. I should mention this one was hard because most my characters don’t have filters. Also adding in Kathy and maya because I can

Irey: Does it bother you that Damian has killed people? (Answer: it bothers me how young he was. That’s not a part of him I dismiss or I bring up during a fight, but I can see how repentant he is and understand the circumstances that it happened. Doesn’t excuse his actions, but I can’t straight say he’s a horrible person for doing it since I’ve seen him change.)

Damian: do the curtains match the drapes (answer:......yes....)

Mel: what’s the age difference between you guys (answer: oh about 1000 years or so)

Donny: do you ever worry Mel will turn out like Eobard Thawne? (Answer: day to day no....but there are times the negative speedforce comes out and I wonder...)

Mar’i: Would you marry someone you hate if it would save the lives of all your loved ones? (Answer: yes. I was raised to serve and protect. If that’s what protects them, I’ll do it.)

Jon: exactly how bendy is Mar’i? (Answer: yes)

Milagro: does pegging your boyfriend ever make you uncomfortable? (Answer: when he first asked, I didn’t know how to feel. There’s times that I’m not in the mood to do that, but Colin and I are good about respecting boundaries and not pushing when one of us says no)

Colin: Are you worried about passing your powers on to you and Milagro’s future kids? (Answer: I’ve been praying to God since I was 10 that never happens. If I knew now that any of my biological kids could end up with my powers, id kill myself. I won’t put them through the constant pain I’m in.)

Jai: did you ever consider dumping Lian when she started binge drinking? (Answer: on the really awful days, yes. She’s been my best friend since preschool. Seeing her do this shit was gut wrenching and I wanted to fix things, but at some point she had to put the work in. I didn’t want to be the one to bury her.)

Lian: if Jai could go back in time and save your parents, but he died doing it, would you let him? (Answer: I don’t know. It’s Sophie’s choice, but I don’t want to answer it because....I know Jai would do it. If he thought it would make me happy, he would do it, consequences be damned. I lost my parents and I still miss them every day....but I don’t know if I want to lose my best friend too...)

Bart: do you worry about disappearing if something happens to the time stream? (Answer: of course. I love My family, and my friends, and Jaime. Every quick decision I make...I keep wondering if that will be the one that takes me away from them.)

Jaime: do you worry Bart will disappear if something happens to the time stream? (Answer: yeah, all the time. I try not to think about it, just live in the now, but yeah, I’m fucking terrified of it.)

Kathy: have you ever used your powers on Maya without her knowing about it? (Answer: yes, only two times. During our first time to figure out if what I was doing felt good to her. The second to subtlety keep her away from where I was hiding her engagement ring.)

Maya: Could you disappear from your life with Kathy if it meant protecting her? (Answer: yes. I love our life together, our home, waking up and seeing her face in the morning....but I don’t think I could forgive myself if she got hurt or killed because of my past.)

[dame-lazarus]

Tagged by @seethemflying — thank you!

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world. tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Joke’s on all y’all, though, because I only have 5 fics out there, so enjoy this director’s commentary on my entire oeuvre 🤪

1. Lost and Found — I used to not really like modern AUs in this fandom, but now they are all I read and write. This one is my favorite fic I’ve written: narrated by Sansa Stark, backwater oil heiress, it’s the story of her rescue after being kidnapped by Petyr Baelish and her slowly-going-off-the-deep-end mother. Operation Qarthi Freedom vet Jaime and champion biathlete Brienne meet (reluctantly) on a dating app, and on the second date, Jaime tries to impress her by taking her out in his private plane. It fails: Jaime crashes the plane in the Riverlands and they are rescued by the Brotherhood without Banners—a cult with whom Sansa has been living this whole time. This came together from two separate prompt ideas, and I am very proud of the result. It was so much fun to write: the juicy darkness of the modern iterations of LSH and the Brotherhood; the transposing of different US regions onto Westeros; the hilarity of modern J/B in the Riverlands; and hearing Sansa’s sassy commentary on it all. Plus I got to use all my esoteric cult knowledge! I do love putting Jaime with religious extremists; he just laughs in their face, and my teenage self is delighted.

2) The Red Thread — a post-season 8 AU and my first fic in the fandom. Jaime survives the collapsing of the Red Keep by accidentally time traveling to the future, where various people send him on a quest and he has to deal with facing Brienne and the world he left behind. It is a canonverse AU loosely inspired by the Netflix show Dark, where people time travel through mystical caves and have to deal with the fact that time is unchangeable, despite how much they want to be able to fix terrible things in their lives. (If you know Dark you know I GREATLY simplified the weirdness of this show.) I originally had this fix-it idea where Jaime ended up in Essos raising his son by Cersei after she died in childbirth, and then when the son was a teenager, they stumbled upon another teen who looked like Cersei, claiming to be his kidnapped niece, sending him on a path back to Westeros. The son got cut, and time travel got added; last fall/summer there were a number of fics where Jaime and/or Jon gets sent back in time to do it all over again, and I remember thinking that if they had seen Dark they would know it was futile! I am very smug at my cleverness at sneaking in snark at the show, Jaime snark at the ridiculousness of his circumstances, and iconic Dark lines/images in a Westeros setting. The shipper in me enjoyed exploring a J/B reunion with a time gap for Brienne only—they are both amazed at the second chance and just need to work themselves up to it. I also cannot! believe! I finished it!

3) Loyalty — another LSH modern AU, though this time with the worst possible outcome. Brienne and Jaime are on opposite sides of an organized-crime-family-feud conflict and he is coerced into becoming a double agent, which he secretly feels is the right thing to do. He falls for Brienne, but knows he won’t survive the circumstances. This story was inspired by a scene from the book Say Nothing, about the IRA’s Disappeared. Dolours Price was responsible for driving people to their execution; she recounts being devastated when she had to take her good friend to die and they both went through with it (in part because of their devotion to the cause and in part because not doing it would be worse.)

4) Meet Cute — this is a metafic about two people who meet on a neighborhood watch app and transition from enemies to lovers by flirting in Game of Thrones jokes. I liked the idea of exploring how pop culture brings people together; academics and pundits always talk about how sad it is that all our relationships are mediated by mass culture and digital technology, but there is a lot of joy to be found in it too.

5) Tamed — Jaime and Brienne receive a mysterious lion as a wedding gift, and hilarity ensues. This fic is short and fluffy but it had me giggling maniacally the whole time I wrote it. I love Lannister humor. I think this is the most fun I have had writing anything.

Tagged: @djeli-beybi @scoundrels-in-love @robotsdance @nire-the-mithridatist @kurikaesu-haru @tawktomahawk