#my sister is very supportive but does ask some challenging questions because she really wants to understand

[nerdyearthquakeunknown]

So I’ve sorta come to the conclusion that I want top surgery at some point.

I talked to my sister about it. She doesn’t really get the intricacies of being nonbinary and wanting top surgery when I “only” have middling dysphoria, but she is supportive nonetheless. It was a kinda hard conversation to have, but over all it did help me put some words on why I want it - which will help when I inevitably have to explain it to a medical professional.

And then we went to a family birthday party where my bonus grandma’s sister gave me gender euphoria by admiring how strong I was (because I could lift a heavy jug of hot cocoa with little issue).

Over all a 10/10 day

[celticcrossanon]

Hi Celta,

Thank you for expressing how you truly feel about Camilla. I’m glad that she’s being revealed for the person she is.

I got into a disagreement with a tarot reader on here because I called out her bias against the Wales. Her opinion was that William and Catherine were destroying the monarchy because they’re lazy, don’t want to work, are on ego trips against the King, especially Catherine all of last year, and they don’t want to take on assignments as ordered (which I suspect has a lot to do with reconciling with Harry, and bringing him back into the fold). She wanted to nitpick every decision and ongoing project the Wales have, and every single one was baaaaaad and destructive. All of this amid the worst health crisis they are facing, I thought it was highly unfair.

I challenged her to look at Charles as POW and asked what HIS plans were for the monarchy at William’s age (42), when he was newly married to Diana. Besides playing hide the sausage with Camilla at her sisters estate, ruminating about plants and architecture, I’m not aware of what his long term plans for the monarchy were. His decisions about the Duchy of Cornwall I’m sure were based on solid financial advice given to him by the best advisors. He’s had the better part of fifty years for his Princes Trust and Duchy to gain value on the stock exchange. What were his future plans for continuation of the monarchy really?? She got angry with me, and instead of answering the question, she blocked me, and called me a Wales worshipper and being delusional about William and Catherine.

Here we are in 2025, Charles is King and things are falling apart. It seems to me no one was asking Charles the same hard questions being asked of William. There was no accountability then and throughout Charles’ life, yet some people ( I strongly suspect Sussex sugars) are turning the screws on William and demanding the accountability they never asked of Charles. All of this to say, if you can turn back time, can you look at Charles when he was William’s age now, and ask what were his plans for the long lived continuation of his line?? It seems that’s the point of the monarchy, and Charles seemed only into having the best time, and not on thoughts of future. The future has now arrived with a bang, and now Charles seemed only to be interested in status quo. If you fail to prepare, prepare to fail.

I wish only the very best for the Wales, they have their work cut out.

Hi AnonymousRetired,

I think my main gripe with Queen Camilla is that for me, she is not acting like a queen. All the gloating and self glorifying PR is not what a Queen does, at any time, in public, and neither is showing disrespect for the country's main religion, the one of which her husband is head. It's just wrong, and it rubs me the wrong way, and then I get blunt in my assessments as I'm too irritated to be charitable.

I know a lot of people like Queen Camilla, and I am glad that she has supporters. I don't blame people for liking her. I wish I could - I wish I still had the grudging respect that I had for her before she opened her mouth and showed what she was really like - but I can't, and that is all there is too it. I wish her supporters well but I can no longer be one of them.

Some royal watchers are biased against the Prince and Princess of Wales. I have noticed that. There is no point in arguing with them as they are not open to reason or logic in that area.

They have built up their own community and their place in that community by abusing and bullying The Prince and Princess of Wales, and they are not going to change now. Part of that abuse is holding one standard for the King and Queen that is filled with excuses for their behaviour, and another, much higher standard for The Prince and Princess of Wales, where everything they do is torn apart and criticised to the nth degree, especially if there was nothing wrong with it in the first place.

What those royal watchers say about others is what they are guilty of themselves - their comments are projections of their own behaviour.

I ignore them, as what they say is of no interest to me. IMO their comments are driven by dislike, if not hatred, and/or intense envy and jealousy, and I see no reason to engage with that.

Other royal watchers prefer to focus on The King and Queen, and that is fine. I have no issue with that at all. Everyone can follow their own interests on their own blog, and others can engage or not as they wish. There is always the option of scrolling by if you don't like what another person says.

As for accountability, that I think goes back to the media. They were fine letting King Charles do whatever he wanted and covering his activities in various ways, and the closer it got to the time King Charles would ascend the throne, the more flattering their coverage became. On the other hand, the media have a definite bias and against and, in some cases, hated for Prince William and Princess Catherine, because the two of them do not play the media's games, and the media takes it out on the couple in their coverage, including holding Prince William responsible for things that were never his responsibility in the first place and comparing him unfavourably to his father. Certain royal watchers have picked up on this trend and they follow it and apply it to everything done by Prince William and his wife.

Your arguments about comparing The King to his heir make very good points. My own preference is not to compare the two but to judge each one on their own merits. So far Prince William is winning in my eyes, but that could be my bias showing (every time I think King Charles has shown that he can be a good king he stuffs it up in some way, most recently by shoving Camilla down my throat).

[supermarine-silvally]

Hello Bingo buddy! It is I @endless-oc-creations here to ask you five questions about your oc Iryna Oleksandrivna Kovalenko!

1.) What inspired you to make Iryna?

2.) What's Iryna's home life like?

3.) Who is Iryna's closest friend at U.A.?

4.) What's Iryna and Bakugou's relationship like when they finally get together?

5.) How does Iryna's quirk work?

Have a wonderful day!!

Aaaaaa omg these are such amazing questions!!! I'm always literally so excited to talk about my girl sdlskdjfsdf I've put the answers below the cut because they got long af

1) What inspired you to make Iryna?

I’d been making OCs for shows (especially anime) and movies I enjoy for years haha so of course when BNHA came out and I watched the first season, I knew I had to make an OC for it as well! I had come up with a character concept of a foreign student at U.A. who travelled to Japan to find her missing mother and even drew a design that is extremely similar to Iryna’s current one, but I didn’t do much with the character until the pandemic hit and I re-watched the show up to season 5. I really enjoyed it on the rewatch so I went back through my old art and found the character design I’d made back when the anime first came out and decided to breathe some new life into the character. I’d actually come up with her nickname, “Kova”, long before her given name, so I re-used that and started fleshing out her backstory.

As for why she’s Ukrainian? I really wanted to make an Eastern European OC and it gave me the opportunity to extrapolate on what hero societies might look like in the BNHA world outside Japan or America. I don’t remember why exactly I settled on Ukraine, though. (It was long before the Russian invasion I swear I didn’t intend it to line up with current events!)

The other challenge I had was trying to figure out exactly where she fit into the BNHA world. I knew I wanted her to be a U.A. hero student, but I didn’t want her to replace anyone in the canon Class 1-A or 1-B. Eventually, after some thought, I settled on her being a year younger than the protagonists and entering U.A. as part of the incoming Class 1-A. The mentorship program idea that drives the plot of my fic Ground Zero formed when I realized that her quirk had some similarities to Bakugou’s and then basically went “wouldn’t it be funny if they interacted cuz they’re both pretty stubborn and hotheaded too” and then I ended up really liking their dynamic. It 100% wasn’t planned as a ship initially, but ended up heading in that direction the more I wrote them.

2) What's Iryna's home life like?

She’s really, really close to her (remaining) family! Though she hasn’t seen her mother since she was eight, she has a really strong bond with her dad, Sasha, who has always been very supportive of her dreams. She’s EXTREMELY protective of her younger brother by six years, Mykyta, especially since he’s quirkless, and has played a huge part in helping raise him— she takes her job as Big Sister very, very seriously. She also lived with her grandmother, Stanislava, in the small town of Letychiv for a few years before moving to Japan to attend U.A., and is very close with her as well. They’re not a wealthy family, but they’re a very tight-knit bunch. Iryna would definitely say she has a happy home life, but she still really misses her mother, Reina, and wants to learn the truth behind her mysterious disappearance. It’s also worth noting here that she knows pretty much nothing about her Japanese side of the family since Reina never told her children anything about her life prior to moving to Ukraine.

3) Who is Iryna's closest friend at U.A.?

Since she’s a year younger than the canon main cast, the people she’s closest to are her own classmates— I actually have 19 other OCs that make up the rest of the new Class 1-A lol maybe one day I’ll get around to sharing more about them. Of the class, her closest friends are Iida Tenshi (Tenya’s cousin) and Monoma Nagito (Neito’s brother). Outside her class, she’s closest to Bakugou since he’s her mentor, and as such will sometimes hang around with the Bakusquad.

4) What's Iryna and Bakugou's relationship like when they finally get together?

finally being the key word here lmao I don’t see them officially dating in high school at all. They both would rather launch their careers and pursue their dreams first, and a proper relationship comes many years down the line when they’re both Pros.

People expect their relationship to be a lot more volatile, since they’re both very stubborn, tend to set high expectations for themselves, and have very fiery personalities, but it’s actually kinda… remarkably chill? A lot of it is a continuation of how they are as friends and comrades-in-arms, just knowing each other inside and out and almost always being on the same wavelength. Their non-verbal communication skills are ridiculously strong— to the point where Iryna can tell what kind of mood Katsuki is in just by the sound of his footsteps— and they just kinda know what the other needs and wants without either of them having to vocalize it. Even when they were just friends, he was way more lenient with her than he was with anyone else, letting her borrow his stuff, cooking for her, tutoring her (without yelling at her lol), tolerating her teasing, and just generally allowing her to be in his space. It did take her a while to wear down his defences and get to that point but now he’s totally wrapped around her little finger and there’s nothing either of them can do about it. His friends still tease him about it mercilessly.

As adults, they’ve both matured a lot and put a ton of effort into strengthening their relationship on and off the battlefield. They play-bicker with each other, but rarely seriously fight (the rare fights are usually of the “don’t be so damn reckless!!” variety). The one major thing that everyone notices when they do finally get together is how flirty they become with each other— not that they weren’t low-key constantly flirting in their own weird ways before, but now it’s INSUFFERABLE lol they’re always trying to show off for each other and making little competitive bets and using sparring as foreplay. Despite this, they prefer to keep their relationship as private from the media as they possibly can. Overall, they’re best friends and allies and lovers all wrapped up into one, and as Iryna herself notes, there’s no Molotova without Dynamight.

5) How does Iryna's quirk work?

Her quirk, Nuclear Fission, allows her to generate and release massive quantities of fission energy, akin to a nuclear reactor or an atomic bomb. She can detonate this energy into explosions, or can channel it (especially once her control has gotten a lot better) and use it as a power source. A byproduct of her quirk makes her completely immune to nuclear radiation, allowing her to handle nuclear materials that would normally be extremely deadly with her bare hands for as long as she wants without the risk of death. While it’s a very powerful and useful quirk, it’s also quite dangerous— overuse of her powers can potentially send her body into a nuclear meltdown state that will cause irreparable damage and in extreme circumstances, even lead to a horrible, excruciating death. Because of this, she has to work hard to learn how to control her quirk and keep herself stable. Ingesting Uranium-235 supplements can provide short, temporary boosts to her power, and using her quirk manifests physically as her skin lighting up with the blue glow of Cherenkov radiation. I should also note that her explosions don’t leave radioactive waste behind, as part of her quirk (the part that also allows for her radiation immunity) makes it so that the radioactivity she produces decays in seconds rather than hundreds of years. (If you want to read more about how exactly her quirk works, Chapter 15 of Ground Zero goes into further detail!)

tysm for the questions!!! I hope the answers made sense <3

[erwinsvow]

𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

for the 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 collab <3

summary: you've always been fond of your step-brother, jean, despite how much he tries to avoid spending time with you. he finally reaches his breaking point when he sees you talking to eren, though.

warnings: step-cest, slight manipulation (reader), possessive behavior, teasing + edging, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), degradation, rough sex, creampie, jean is a good boy and reader is a fiend

author's note: i hope everyone likes this!!! i'm thinking about creating a step-cest series, let me know who should be next! tagging the lovely @yeagerslut & sending a big thank you for creating this collab! <3

Jean can never really peel his eyes away from you, no matter how hard he tries. At first it was subtle glances, like staring at the exposed skin of your supple thighs from his place beside his mom, when she was first introducing you and your father to him.

His first thought, besides the fact that it’ll be nice to have a sibling in the house with him every once in a while, is that your dress is incredibly short. So short that he wonders how you’re allowed to leave the house in something like that. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t let you, that’s for sure.

He quickly remembers that it’s not up to him, and that it’s not his place to be worrying about the length of your hem. Jean tries to suppress the strange, sudden burning feeling in his chest when he thinks about you wearing something as short as that when he has his friends over. No, that won’t be allowed.

He’ll have to tell someone about it, at some point, because he can’t stand the unusual jealousy he feels stirring at the idea of one of his friends looking at you while you’re wearing that.

His thoughts are cut short when his mother tells you two to get acquainted, while your dad and her head to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Jean almost doesn’t want them to leave, doesn’t want to be left alone with you and those legs and that dress, but he doesn’t have any say in the matter.

Your first words to your new step-brother are carefully calculated. In fact, you've been deciding everything carefully. The way you did your hair, the dress you’ve chosen that’s much too short for a family dinner but it’s not like someone can stop you, even the pink lip gloss you reapplied in the car before entering the house. Everything has its purpose, its place, with one goal in mind: see how long it takes for Jean to crack.

“I’m so excited to finally have a big brother, Jean!” you let out in a cheerful, chirpy voice that doesn’t match your insidious thoughts at all. You close the bridge separating you two with a few steps, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into a hug.

It’s so sudden, so unforeseen that he stumbles a little, letting his tall figure be pulled by your efforts and arms wrapping around your waist for support. And before he knows it, the sweet smell of your perfume is invading all his senses and leaving him with nothing to think about except you.

He takes it all in, the lingering scent of shampoo in your hair, something fruity, he thinks off-hand, the feel of your soft skin on the back of his neck, your cheek against his, but especially the way your breasts feel against his chest.

He pulls away before you want him to, and you begrudgingly allow him to, recognizing what a challenge it’ll be. But you’re always up for a challenge.

The first few months pass by in the blink of an eye for you, and dragging on and on for him. Jean tries to avoid interactions with you since that first meeting, but it’s hard to when you’re living in the same house as him. Even harder when your bedroom is right next to his, his mother offering up his assistance to help you move boxes and get settled while she and her new husband go out to dinner.

It’s ridiculous, the way he flushes bright red when he opens boxes and suitcases filled with clothing he doesn’t want to look at, all short skirts and sun-dresses and delicate panties that he tries and fails not to stare at.

You keep your gaze away, knowing exactly which suitcase you had given him to unpack, while you organize books on the shelves of the room and sort knick-knacks.

“Won’t it be nice sharing a wall?” you comment, adjusting a frame on your nightstand and not meeting Jean’s eyes. “I think it’ll be fun to have you so close.”

Jean chokes on the water he was drinking, gasping for air and trying to process your words all at once, when you finally turn around and smile. A smile that he thinks should be illegal, given the way it’s innocence personified when you’re actually a little devil.

He leaves a little bit after that, calling out that he’s not hungry when you knock on his door for dinner, but you don’t miss the way he sounds breathless, or the panties missing from your drawers.

Every challenge gets easier, right?

It doesn’t take long for your behavior to get a little out of hand, especially when the two of you have so much alone time together. Your parents are gone all the time, frequenting dinner parties and double dates, and not coming back until late at night.

Jean tries his best to keep away. While he had once been the friend whose house was always available for sleepovers, movie nights, and the like, he was now keeping everyone away. Every time your parents’ car left the driveway, Jean followed suit, either hopping into Connie’s Jeep or walking the short distance to Sasha’s place and leaving you alone.

He was hoping no one would notice, but of course someone did, and of course that someone was Eren.

“We can’t do my place again,” Sasha says, absentmindedly reaching for the bag of chips which Connie yanks out of her reach. “My dad’s having people over.” A swat to the back of Connie’s head gets her back the snack quickly.

“How come we can’t do Jean’s place like usual?” Eren asks, reclining back in his seat and enjoying the panicked expression on Jean’s face. “There something wrong with that new sister of yours?” Jean chokes back a cough.

“No.”

“Does she always have friends over, or something?”

“No.”

“Then it’s settled,” Eren says, bringing his hands together. “Jean’s place it is.” Shit, Jean. Better come up with something quick.

“We- we can’t do my place!” he sputters out much too loudly, meeting the gaze of every person in the room.

“Any reason why, Jean-bo?” Eren asks.

“I- we- what if she’s not okay with having a bunch of loud-mouthed idiots sleeping over?” Shitty, but it’s the best he can think of when he’s so concerned with keeping everyone away from you.

If you behave like that with parents in the house, how are you gonna behave with his friends around? He doesn’t wanna take the chance to find out.

“How about you call and ask, dumb-ass?” Connie suggests, shoving his phone at him and waiting with a confused look. Jean lets out a defeated sigh, knowing how this phone call will go.

Your loud, chirpy “I’m perfectly fine with that, silly! I’ve been waiting to meet your friends..” can be heard through the phone and answers Eren’s question.

Jean searches for a reason, any reason really, to keep this sleepover from happening, but realizes that he’s failed miserably when all his friends appear, clad with pillows and overnight bags, on his front door. “So,” Eren begins, with a wolfish grin on his face that Jean wants to punch right off, “Where’s the sister? It’s only polite to say hi, right?”

As if you’d been waiting for the cue, you poke your head out from the living room, that very same innocent and sweet smile gracing your face.

“Hi,” you, stepping out to greet his friends in the foyer. “It’s so nice to meet you all.”

Jean immediately regrets the fact that he never had that conversation with you about the length of your dresses. It always sat in the back of his head somewhere, though it was incredibly easy to dismiss when you would come sit next to him on the couch, dress riding up frequently and exposing more skin that he somehow always found himself entranced by.

Today the dress of choice is yellow, and though it does, in fact, cover everything it needs to, it doesn’t leave much to the imagination either. Jean almost feels like a schoolboy again, blushing at exposed shoulders and thighs, but he can’t help it when you’re clinging right to his side as you greet his friends.

“I’m Eren-”

“Hi, I’m Connie-”

“Ignore these two, I’m Sasha-” All meet each other at once. You let out a laugh at your step-brother’s funny friends, glancing up to see his expression, but all you see are signs of anger. Your smile dims a little, but picks right back at up when you notice the way Eren looks at you, and the way Jean looks at Eren.

A plan is working itself into creation in your head before you can help it, deviousness taking a hold on you as you smile brightly in favor of Eren over Jean. Your step-brother’s been keeping his distance all this time, but you’re about ready to force his hand.

You don’t miss the way Jean’s jaw tightens, his hand clenching into a fist at his side as he guides the group to the living room. Your original plan changes quickly, following them into the space and taking your usual place on the couch as you scan the various video games laid out.

“Eren, will you sit with me?” you ask in a gentle tone, one that Jean is all too familiar with. “I don’t know this game, can I watch you play first?”

“Don’t you have work to do, or something?” Jean blurts out without thinking, his only thought centered around getting you out of the room and as far away as he can.

“What work? It’s summer,” you reply, watching your step-brother’s cheeks turn red.

You’re not helping matters for Jean, as he watches Eren sit where he usually does, teeth clenched so hard his jaw hurts. He doesn’t think he could get more angry, until he notices Eren’s hand move to your knee, squeezing quickly but lingering entirely too long. There must be steam coming out of Jean’s ears at this point, watching this interaction between you two.

“Yeah, Jean, she can stick around to watch. Anything for your little sister, right?” “I’m not that much younger than you guys, you know,” you reply with a laugh, adjusting your position on the sofa and purposefully lifting the skirt of your dress for a second before letting it settle. If someone were looking, which both Jean and Eren were, they’d catch a glimpse of black panties, and they both did.

Jean is seeing red now, standing up without realizing why, ready to yank Yeager away from you, when the doorbell rings again. It stops Jean in his tracks. “That must be Marco,” Sasha reminds, looking up from the games to glance at Jean with confusion. “Aren’t you gonna go get that?”

“Y-yeah. I’ll be right back.” Jean locks eyes with you as he leaves the room, and you dejectedly sigh, leaning away from Eren. It’s no fun to mess around with another guy if Jean’s not there to see.

He guides Marco into the living room, and you greet him with a quick smile before giving your full attention back to Eren.

The next few hours are fun for you, and unbearable for Jean. Every time he spared a glance to you, you were pouring over Eren, asking questions about the game and insisting on clarification, leaning in much too close and supporting yourself on his shoulder as he explained another trivial rule to you.

Jean didn’t like any of it, not the way you laughed sweetly and played with your hair while talking to Eren, not the way your legs were on display and Eren’s sleazy hands kept finding its way back to them, none of it. What he couldn’t stand, though, was how you didn’t shy away from his touch and found any and every way to keep it going.

He’s at his limit when you go to your bedroom after dinner to change into pajamas, knowing what to expect from your nightwear. If he’s lucky, you’ll pick a big t-shirt and shorts, but he’s seen first-hand the silky slips and cotton sets you prefer to sleep in.

Jean doesn’t think he can handle the look on Eren’s face if you come down the stairs wearing one of those, so he lets his anger do the thinking for a minute when the others are fighting over snacks and who gets the couch versus the floor.

Eren’s waiting near the bottom of the stairs, looking at something on his phone when Jean approaches and glances quickly to make sure you’re still in your room.

“You better knock it off, Yeager, I’m serious,” he says, trying to contain his anger and keep his voice down. His words come out in a low grumble that he barely recognizes, body stiff and trying his best to intimidate Eren. It doesn’t seem to be working. “Knock off what?” Eren questions nonchalantly, amused that his suspicions were proving to be correct. Looks like Jean had a little thing for his step-sister after all.

Jean’s eyes unwittingly flit to the top of the stairs again, before he forces his gaze back to Eren, but the quick gesture isn’t missed by his so-called friend.

“Oh, I see. You want me to stop being so buddy-buddy with your step-sister, huh? You better tell that to her first, you know. She’s been all over me since the minute I met her.”

The sly smirk playing on his lips only makes Jean want to cave his face in all the more.

“You better watch it, you son of a-” Eren clicks his tongue to interrupt Jean.

“Come on now, Jean, you can’t really expect me to stop. I mean, it’s not like she’s my sister, right?” Eren says, with a strange look in his eyes as though he was tempting Jean to blow his cover.

Eren walks away to rejoin everyone in the living room, leaving Jean seething by the stairs and you in your bedroom, pressed against the door and clinging onto every word.

All night you had known Jean was getting agitated by your constant flirting and touchiness with Eren, but he hadn’t been close to cracking, or so it seemed. The fact that he even confronted Eren had your heart pounding in your chest, wondering if tonight might finally be the chance you had been waiting for. You hear Jean’s heavy foot steps walk away, and you decide that it’s all or nothing, now.

You leave your room and close the door gently, dressed in a pink camisole and shorts that were sure to get Eren’s attention for long enough for Jean to finally crack.

Just as you began the descent down the stairs, you heard footsteps coming back and were greeted with Jean at the foot of the stairs.

The look in his eyes was something you hadn’t seen before, something entirely different from the reserved, hesitant Jean you had gotten so used to.

No, this Jean was someone else, a mix of want and desire and shame pooling in his pretty eyes, looking at you as though you were the prey he had finally cornered.

Before you know it, Jean is in your bedroom and your back is pressed against the door roughly as his lips stay on yours and refuse to pull away. His tongue is hot in your mouth, and his hands feel as though they’re burning your skin with the heat they are radiating, groping your ass and the soft skin of your back as he explores your body. All the things he’d wanted to do for these last few months, that he’d forced himself to repress, finally coming out.

You moan into Jean’s mouth at the sudden feel of his hands on your tits, grabbing blindly and pinching your nipple roughly and suddenly, causing the moan to turn into a loud squeal. Jean clasps his free hand over your mouth.

“Shh, now,” he begins, staring into your eyes and making your core heat up uncomfortably as you realize your little challenge was finally over. You feel the wetness between your legs growing, pussy throbbing just at seeing Jean be so dominant for once. “We don't want anyone to hear, do we?”

You shake your head quickly to answer his question, having completely forgotten about the multiple guests just a floor away. You expect Jean to pull away, to tell you that he’ll take care of you after they’re all gone, some other time, but he doesn’t.

He pulls his hand away and leads two fingers to your mouth, guiding them into your willing mouth, latching your lips around them and sucking while swirling your tongue, getting them wet as he wanted.

“You know how long I’ve wanted this? Huh? Since the day I met you, that’s how long. And you’re such a fucking tease all the time, you know how unbearable it's been?” Jean says in a deep voice, his eyes observing your mouth continuing its work. You moan around his fingers, wanting to speak but no words come out.

He pulls his fingers away and leads them straight to your throbbing pussy, running one up and down your slit teasingly as you hold back a loud moan.

“P-please, Jean, please do something, I- oh!” Jean shoves the two digits into your tight hole without any warning at all, causing your whole body to shake at the sudden fullness.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, you dirty slut? You wanted your big brother to get fed up and fuck you senseless, didn’t you? Say it,” he orders, fingers pumping in and out and his hand grazing your clit with every motion, causing you to moan as your body tenses. You can hardly process his words because of the pleasure you’re feeling, but his other hand finding your throat brings you back quickly.

“Say it. I won’t ask again.”

“Y-yes, Jean, I-I wanted big brother to fuck me, oh, yes-” You lose your thoughts again as his pace increases, making you squeal again before you clamp your mouth shut to make sure no one hears you. Your stomach is tensing and you know you’re so, so close, one more touch from Jean would have your orgasm washing over you like lightening spreading through your body, when he suddenly stops.

You gasp loudly at the sudden emptiness, feeling your orgasm dissipate as you buck up and clamp down against nothing at all. Jean’s fingers are in his mouth, tasting your wetness as you try to catch your breath and protest against the way he’s teasing you, but your pleas are met by deaf ears.

“Jean,” you moan desperately, clinging to his shoulders, “please, please, let me cum, please-”

“No. Filthy sluts that mess around with their big brother’s friends don’t get to cum,” he says gruffly, as you whine again and try to release yourself from his tight grip. It’s useless since he has you caged in, firm hands on your waist dragging you to the bed and throwing you on top of the soft covers.

“Please, I promise I’ll be a good girl,” you plead, using your sweetest voice and big. teary eyes to win Jean over, but it’s still useless.

“I said no,” he repeats, hovering over you and his hands finding their way to the bottom of your camisole. He pulls the skimpy top off of you quickly, revealing your tits. Your nipples harden at the sudden cool air, and Jean’s fingers find them once again, pinching and teasing as you moan into your pillow, desperately bucking your hips up for contact between your legs, to no avail. His hot mouth finds your nipple, flicking with his tongue as his hand plays with the other, before he pulls away quickly.

You whine again at the loss of stimulation, before you see Jean pulling down the band of his grey sweatpants and leaning back against the headboard.

“Prove to me that you deserve big brother’s cock,” he says, revealing his hard dick as it snaps against his stomach. “With your mouth. Now.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You reposition yourself, ass in the air and head at Jean’s crotch as you stare at his pretty, pink cock with wide eyes. You’d expected him to be big, but not like this, though you don’t have time to dwell on it as he grips it firmly and taps the angry, pink tip against your lips.

You hang your tongue out, spit collecting and falling all over his length before you finally take as much as you can into your mouth, sucking and swirling as your hands move up and down the rest that you can’t take.

“Just like that-” Jean begins before breaking into a loud moan. You pop him out of your mouth and keep stroking with your hands as you whisper for him to shush.

“What happened to being quiet, and everyone downstairs will hear, and-” You’re interrupted as Jean grips his cock and shoves it back into your mouth, gagging suddenly at the unexpected movement.

Jean stares at your obedient mouth, following his instructions without any sign of the brat he was so used to. As you cup his balls in your hand, he feels them tighten and knows he’s not gonna last much longer like this. He guides your head away from his cock, admiring the drool and spit on your face and the glassy eyes he’s longed to see.

“Jean, I wanna-”

“I don’t care what you want, sweetheart,” he says, a false sweetness in his voice that’s making you feel dizzy. “You’re gonna ride me now, you got that?”

Jean’s hands are firmly set on your hips, positioning you just as he wants as you hover above his leaking cock. You grind down quickly, desperate for friction on your throbbing clit, before Jean stops your motions with the tight grip he has on you. “Are you gonna make me repeat myself?” he questions, in a tone that makes you positive that you don't want to make him angry. You shake your head immediately, taking his dick in your hand and lining it up with your wet hole, before slowly sinking down.

“Oh, god-!” you let out, before clasping a hand over your mouth. You had never felt quite so full before, the stretching burn making heat course through your whole body, as you bottom out and clench hard. “Come on, baby, you know how long you’ve been begging for this? Don’t get shy on me now,” Jean says, and you regain your senses slowly. You start moving, up and down, just like he wants and speeding up as you feel your cunt gush against Jean.

You’re sure to be making a mess, but you can hardly care when your brain feels so cloudy and distracted at how good Jean feels inside you, and you start the grinding movement again. Jean entertains you for a minute, before grabbing your hips even tighter, nearly at a bruising grip now, and snapping his own hips to thrust into you.

You’re blabbering now, utterly senseless as Jean fucks you mercilessly. You know you’re being loud, but you just don’t care, not when Jean is hitting that one spot inside you that has you seeing stars before you know it, your hands on his shoulders and holding on for life.

“Are you close, baby? Are you gonna cum all over your brother’s big cock?” Jean teases, feeling you clench down harder and knowing he won’t be able to hold on much longer either. “Yes, yes, yes! Jean! Oh, Jean-” you finally feel the tight coil in your stomach snap, unaware of your own movements and surroundings as you focus on the pleasure Jean’s giving you. You yell out, cumming so intensely and shaking on top of Jean, twitching once more when you hear Jean groan and feel hot ropes of cum inside you.

Your throat feels dry and scratchy, heart pounding as you come down from your high. You feel Jean’s grip, much softer now, lead you off of his cock and lay you next to him on the bed. It’s a mess, and you don’t know how you’ll clean up with everyone downstairs and surely they’ve noticed you’re both still gone-but you still don’t care.

All you care about is the sound of Jean’s heart beat from your position on his chest, and the way his hands feel on your skin as he holds you close to his warm body.

“So,” he starts off quietly, “was it how you’ve been imagining it all this time?” You’re not looking at him, but you know he’s smiling.

“Mmh,” you hum contentedly, “even better.” You feel his body rumble with a laugh, and his hand reaches to cup your face and lean into you for a kiss. Just as your lips meet, you hear a sharp knock at the door.

“Might wanna hurry up, you two,” Eren calls out from the other side of the door. “The others are getting suspicious.”

[boldlyvoid]

36 Questions to Fall in Love

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

warnings: strangers to lovers, blind dates, betting, talks of: drug use, drug addiction, abusive marriages, rape, sexual assault, abuse, attempted murder, mass shootings, parental death, love confessions, elopements, opposite of slow burn

word count: 8K

A/N: this is based on a request I received a while back about this article

Derek was a betting man, to say the least. He knew Spencer was from Vegas, he also knew Emily couldn’t say no to a challenge and that Rossi had enough money to burn. Betting at work was the best way to have fun when he worked there, and now he can’t stop.

“I’m not saying con a woman into loving you, I’m saying let us find a girl and let’s see if she can fall in love with you, take a week off from work and just spend time wooing her, and in a week, me or Emily will hit on her, if she turns us down for you, then you’ve won.”

Derek explained it like it was simple, and yet the mere thought of being set up with someone was horrifyingly nerve-wracking. But he got Spencer to agree… unbeknown to him that he had another bet going on the side.

You see earlier that day he was invited to Penelope’s apartment, her younger sister was moving in for a little while and they needed a big strong man to help move the boxes. And like Penelope, Y/N was really chatty and overly friendly really fast. It was like he’s always known Y/N Garcia.

She explained to Derek how hard it was in California to find good men who want someone to love them, she’s tired of guys thinking she comes on too fast, she wants someone who wants to settle and have kids and be a dad. Not a Vain narcissist who only cares about what the city can offer him.

“The last guy I went on a date with literally ran when I mentioned I read a New York Times article about 36 questions to make you fall in love… I just want a person to love? Is that really so hard?”

A lightbulb goes off in Derek’s mind, and Penelope almost reads it.

“Spencer.” They both reply with the same cheeky grin.

“I bet you, you could be as insane as you say you are and he’d still be in love with you by the end of the week.” Derek teases, and the way she smiles shows just how interested she is.

—

Woo her.

The words have rattled around in his brain every second of every moment since Derek said he found a girl for him.

She was free on Saturday, all Spencer had to do was tell Derek where she should meet him and all Penelope had to do was not mention to Spencer that she had a sister, it was up to Y/N when Spencer learned that fact.

She’s already there at the restaurant when he arrives, he’s not sure what he was expecting when Derek said he found the perfect girl but it wasn’t this. He was thinking it was going to be a joke, that either no one would show or Derek was hooking him up with some hot blonde who was way out of his league.

She was beautiful in a nice dress, her makeup was stunning and she looked so content sitting there, waiting for him. Starring her ice water with a straw, she wasn’t paying any attention to the room, she barely knew he was there.

“Hi?” He said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi,” she beamed up at him, that same unsure look on her face. Neither of them was expecting anything from the other, but they were pleasantly surprised.

“Spencer Reid,” he says, actually extending a hand to shake her’s because it’s the chivalrous thing to do.

She reaches out her hand, watching him take it and kiss her knuckle softly, she’s so surprised. “Oh, um, Y/N Garcia,” she whispers the name and his eyes go wide.

“Garcia?” He panics a little, sitting down in the booth and facing her as her face drops at his reaction.

“Did he not tell you I’m Penelope’s sister? I knew Derek was up to something,” she looked like it was all too good to be true, upset almost.

“He didn’t, he probably wanted you to tell me, I mean this all so we can get to know each other,” Spencer shrugs it off, interested in seeing why Derek picked her of all people.

“I guess,” she smiled again, “so what do you do?”

“I work with Penelope, I specialize more in psycho-linguistics and geographical profiling.”

She nods in approval, “I’m a high school English teacher.”

Spencer laughs lightly, “what’s that like?”

“Interesting to say the least, especially in California. Every kid there wants to be on TikTok, no one cares about reading any of the books I ask them too,” she just shakes her head. “I’m worried about the next generation.”

“Me too, it’s almost alarming how many kids are unsubs,” he agrees. She’s so easy to talk to, he’s suddenly not nervous anymore and the waiter is coming to take their order.

He never even opened the menu, “what looks good?” He asks Y/N, nervous and she can tell.

“I think I’m going to have the lobster, let’s go all out?” She shrugged again, both of them feeling more adventurous than normal.

“I’ll have that as well,” Spencer smiled, keeping eye contact with only her as she handed the menus back to him.

They ordered sides and appetizers, stuffed mushrooms and fresh bread, it was amazing. They traded small facts about each other, Spencer noticed a lot of Penelope’s quirks in her, she was very friendly and kind and funny. She loved to tease him and make him laugh, his stomach hurt by the time their lobsters came out.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admits, putting on her bib and holding the claw cracker in one hand.

“Neither have I, but I think it’s fairly simple you just need to apply the correct amount of pressure,” he demonstrates by picking up the crustacean and cracking it at its weakest point before twisting it open.

He’s surprised he did it, so is she as she copies is movements and struggles a bit. “You got it, come on,” he encourages her as she squeezed so hard her hands shake but the shell does eventually crack.

She smiles like she just won the science fair, overly proud as they stare at each other. Enamoured already by just how cute the other was.

“So, what do you do for fun outside being a fed?” She teases between bites.

“I like to spend my time finding new things, I tend to go to the same spots often but I’m always looking for new places. I like the theatre, the old cemetery is nice, I’m excited for the new phantasmagoria to open this fall,” he explains all his interests as he cracks away at his dinner. “I just like to try and appreciate what’s out there, after everything I see.”

“That’s really nice, I’ve always wanted to go to a phantasmagoria actually, science magic is the best kind of magic,” she says it like it’s nothing, almost embarrassed by the interest.

“Me too, I love magic,” Spencer lights up, “I can actually do some magic, hold on.”

He digs his NA chip out of his pocket, showing it to her quickly before making it disappear and reappear behind her ear and she was so smitten, “how the heck?” She asked as she reached for her own ear, shocked at the fact he could do it.

“Do you always keep a coin on you for that?”

He thinks about it for a second, not knowing if he should tell her or not. “No, I keep this on me for support.”

He places it on the table, she picks it up instead and inspects it carefully, “2 years is a really long time, I’m really proud of you.”

He feels like he falls in love with her in that moment, she places the chip back in his hand and smiles, “it’s not easy to admit nor recover from, it’s something you should be really proud of Spencer.”

“Thank you,” he blushes, “um, is there anything else you want to know about me?”

She bites the inside of her lip as she thinks, “actually I was reading an article the other day that said there are a list of personal questions you can ask someone and by the end of all of them you should be in love with the person.”

He thought it was a good opportunity to take a sip of water, upon hearing the word love he realizes it was a mistake. He chokes lightly, coughing as he puts the glass back down and apologizes.

“Love?” He repeats the word.

“I’m going to be real honest here Spencer, I don’t date to get my heartbroken, I date to find my life partner so if you’re not interested in marriage or kids one day tell me now,” she’s very stern about it and he can tell she’s gotten her hopes up and heart broken before.

“I want that too, I just didn’t expect you to be so upfront about it,” he’s honest, because clearly that’s what she wants from him. “What was on the question list?”

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She asks, remembering the questions easily.

“Wow,” he takes a moment to think about it, “alive or dead?”

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs.

“Probably biological Eve,” he comes to the decision rather quickly. “I’ve always been fascinated with the fact all humans can be traced back to one single women. I’m sure she was amazing, it must have been so interesting being the first women on earth.”

“That is the coolest answer anyone has ever given me,” she smiles, “I think I’d be boring and have dinner with Julia Roberts.”

“She’s a very talented actress,” he smiles, recognizing the name from Penelope’s movie nights. “Um, I have an eidetic memory, do you have the list I can just read it once and then we can spit it back and forth easily.”

She looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, “yeah hold on.” She takes out her cellphone and pulls up the article before handing it to him.

He reads it quickly and then hands it right back, she was amazed, surely it was a joke? “Would I like to be famous?” He repeats the next question to himself.

“No,” he’s very certain. “I’ve had some encounters with psychopaths who think they are my biggest fans, perfect match or my only rival, and it’s not fun. I’m sure being adored is lovely, but I don’t like the attention if it’s not from a good place.”

“So you want praise but you don’t want a stalker?” She dumbs it down slightly with a smile, “I definitely don’t want to be famous because I don’t like other peoples opinions about me.”

“That’s incredibly fair.”

“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?” She asks the next one.

“If it’s for work or my mother, yes,” he answers it completely honestly. “I prefer not to make phone calls, so when I have to make them I typically spend the day before panicking.”

She smiles, “well, if you ever need someone to call tech support and pretend to be you, I am really good on the phone.”

“Like Penelope?”

She nods, “we spent a lot of time talking on the phone when she moved to Virginia for your team.”

“That must have been really hard, I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned you yet?”

“I’m not really her sister,” she smiles, “I wish I was. I met her during a really abusive relationship and I didn’t feel close to my parents anymore, so my old name didn’t feel right either. Penelope and her brothers were the closest thing I had to family, so I took their name after my divorce.”

“That’s beautiful,” his smile is so soft, she wonders if he feels the same about Penelope.

“What do you consider a perfect day?” She moves on before she can pry into his personal life further, just to pry into his personal life further— in another direction.

“Nobody dies.”

“Even the bad guys?” She squints as she asks it, wondering if that was an appropriate topic for the first date.

“I’m not a fan of the prison system, and I’m really not a very big fan of suicide by cop, let alone lethal injection,” he explained. “Just because you’re a murderer or a psychopath doesn’t mean you have to die too, there is rehabilitation and a way to keep them sane and alive while keeping people safe. I just hate when people die.”

“Me too,” her smile is sad, “my perfect day would be having my parents back, I’d like to show them my degree and go out for ice cream and give them another hug.”

“We should have our perfect days back to back,” his voice is low, he was nervous to say it. “Cause then once you bring them back, I stop people from dying and they can stay forever.”

He sees her heartbreak as the tears well in her eyes, “that would be nice.”

“Um,” he clears his throat and then takes a sip of water. “When was the last time you sang to yourself, or someone else?”

“I was singing in the car on the way here,” she smiles with a sniffle, “I sing a lot actually. I’m always humming or tapping as well, if my mind is wandering then it has to make some kind of noise.”

“What is your favourite thing to hum?” He can’t stop himself from asking it, “I personally do the muppets, duh duh nanana, manamanah.”

She laughs again, and a tear slips out as her eyes close. She hurries to wipe it away, “I often find myself doing the teletubbies song, you know; ‘Tinky-Winky, Dipsy,’” she sings the words before humming the tune to match.

“That’s a good one too,” Spencer is really enthusiastic suddenly, the way he would be with Penelope. He was really comfortable. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

“Mind, because that’s how you keep a good body. If I can keep the strength and willpower to get up in the mornings and go to work and remember why I love being alive, I’ll be young forever,” she answers like it’s rehearsed.

“I was going to say I’d want my mind too, but the way you said it is a lot more elegant,” he teases. “My mom has Alzheimer's, you were honest about wanting kids and you should know that's genetic. I can also pass on schizophrenia and any other mental illness, like depression, bipolar disorder and most definitely anxiety—

“Spencer,” she reaches across the table for his hand, “breathe, that’s not scary to me. My grandma had it too, I’m not optimal gene-wise either.”

He takes a deep breath, “Sorry.”

“It makes you real to react like that, I don’t mind seeing that side of you. Fake strong men and men who compensate are the worst, in my opinion.”

“Mine too,” he agrees. “I am an anxious worrier, I barely sleep, I’m terrified of the dark, I have PTSD nightmares about my short stay in prison, and I cry a lot when I’m alone.”

“It was a mistake clearly? The prison stay, that is.”

“Yeah,” he nods, moving to the next question. “Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

She laughs through her nose at the switch topic change, “well until I was 19 I thought my husband was going to kill me, then I thought maybe it would be myself, now I’m content dying in my sleep when I'm old.”

“It is ever-changing,” he agrees. “I have died before.”

“What did it feel like?”

She doesn’t ask how, she knows he was sober, she knows he’s been to prison, she knows he’s an agent. It wasn’t a surprise. Penelope even almost died once before, it was an unfortunate part of the job.

“Warm.”

“Like soothing warm, like drinking a hot chocolate, or that uncomfortable warm like being in a hot car?”

“Like a hug.”

Her lips purse, she hums a bit. “Yeah, my answer stays the same.”

“Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”

“You like to learn,” she smiles again. “You enjoy the mysteries and the horribleness of the world because it keeps you grounded. You love your mom.”

“We love Penelope, our hearts have similar scars, life has been mean to us for no reason,” he adds 3 more for good measure.

“What are you grateful for in life?” She asks the next question.

“I’ve never said this before,” he prefaces, “but found family. If it wasn’t for my team, no matter who was coming and going over the years, anyone who has had my back. Anyone who loves me in any capacity. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

“We’re not even through the first set of questions and I can see why everyone loves you,” she admits. Moving far too fast, doing exactly what Derek wanted from her.

To scare him and see if he still stays.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer stops the questions, “I can’t continue if I can’t tell you this.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Derek and Emily bet me $20 that I couldn’t get someone to fall in love with me, he wanted to set this up and then hit on you in a week and see if you picked me over him, and it feels like a really shitty thing to do to you. It’s making me feel like you’re an object more than a person and I feel really bad about it.”

She just laughs and he has no idea why. “He bet me that I could be as insane as I am with most of my dates and you’d still want to stay with me after a week.”

“You’re not mad?” He worries, by passing her words and the implications of it all.

“No, did you truly mean how you feel?”

“Yes…”

“Then I accept your apology, you’re really kind Spencer. I believe you when you speak, I trust you,” she explains her reasoning and he settles once more. “You’re the most real man I’ve ever met, I think.”

“Thank you,” he smiles again, reaching out for her hand once more, “do you want to finish these questions?”

“Not really,” she smirks, “I think they were wrong about all 35 of them making you fall in love with someone.”

“How so?”

“It only took me 9.”

It’s so absurd they start to laugh, making eye contact, they feel delirious. His hand in hers, she squeezes it lightly and he never wants to let it go.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Sure, did you drive?” She asks.

“No, I walked over.”

She gets up from the table and takes his hand once more, “well, are we going to mine or yours?”

“Are you living with Penelope?”

“Yours it is then,” she teases, bumping his shoulder. This was going to be fun.

Spencer pays for their meal and meets her out front, he gets in her passenger seat and gives her the directions. “Do you want to finish the questions on the drive?” He asks.

“Hmm, well, 11 is a long one, if you want to start telling me your life story in graphic detail? Or we can jump to 12 and you can tell me what super ability you’d like to wake up with?”

“Have you ever watched star trek?”

She’s not expecting that, it makes her take a double-take, she laughs lightly, “Yeah, why?”

“Deanna Troi can sense peoples emotions, I think that would really help with my job,” he explains it easily. “And in times like this.”

“I can just tell you,” she offers, pulling into his apartment complex, she can tell why he walked.

“You don’t have to yet, let it simmer,” he smiles softly, he’s not ready for her to make a decision like loving him when she really doesn’t know everything yet. “Come inside?”

She nods, getting out and taking his hand again for the walk inside. His house is green, and it makes sense. There are door wooden bookshelves and the distant smell of old books and spilled coffee, it’s dusty and old and very Spencer.

“Can I tell you some of my story?” She asks as she kicks her shoes off.

“Absolutely,” he follows her lead, “do you want anything, wine, water?”

“Wine would be nice,” she smiles, following him to the kitchen, “you know my favourite place to talk to someone is in the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“It's the heart of the house,” she smiles slightly, “that's what my mom used to say. This is where all the love happens.”

He loves her and he knows it already, she makes him happy and calm and if she’s in the heart of his house she might as well know all of his own heart.

“I was born in Vegas,” Spencer admits, pushing his life story past his lips before she can stop him or else he wouldn’t.

“My mom was a professor, my dad is an attorney, I have always been really smart and not so athletic, I enjoy chess and reading and I had big thick glasses as a child. My mom participated in a murder and my dad covered it up and that ruined their marriage but they blamed it on her schizophrenia when he left. And then I was left to raise her when she was supposed to be raising me. I cared for her until I turned 13, I left her during the weeks and my aunt would make sure she was okay and I would travel back and forth from CalTech and Vegas on the weekends.”

She can see the exhaustion on his face at just remembering it.

“I got my licence at 16, and then I took her car and it was easier. When I was 18 I put her in a sanatarium and sold her house and took a road trip with my friend to Virginia to go to the academy. He didn’t like it after a week and asked me to go with him to New Orleans and I didn’t— I met my mentor and joined the BAU instead. I was kidnapped and drugged by a man with DID… I died and then his personality switched and Tobias brought me back. I had an addiction to Dilaudid for a few months after, then I got sober after visiting Ethan in New Orleans.”

“Was he good to you?”

“Wonderful,” he smiles, “he was my shoulder to cry on for a long time and I didn’t realize how much I needed him in my recovery until we got a case and I had a reason to see him. I missed a plane and ignored my friends to just be with him. He’s the reason I got clean, not anything else… he told me that I was too special to hate myself, and he was right.”

“He was,” she smiles. “He sounds lovely.”

“And then, the first time I saw my mom after putting her in the sanatarium was because she told parts of our case to a man who lost his daughter, and he did a lot of messed up stuff… like he shot my co-worker. She was another special person to me—“

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiles, “she lived, don’t worry. I loved Elle, she was amazing but the bureau didn’t see that. She was a broken toy to them, we all become one eventually. I miss her a lot.”

She walks into his space and wraps her arms around him, giving him a hug as he rests against the counter, she makes no attempt to move back. Holding him in the heart of the house, close to her own. He holds her back just as tight.

“Maeve, she was another person I loved who got shot, she died. I see her sometimes when I sleep, she visits me when I’m in the most need. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. The only other woman who claims to have loved me was a psychopath who is dead now too, she framed me for murder, had me drugged, kidnapped my mother and the list goes on and it’s not pretty. In prison she had a lot of bad things happen to me, I have scars that will never heal and a part of me was lost but I’m okay now.”

They have a moment of silence in the middle of their stories, she absorbs it while preparing her own, rubbing his back as her cheek stays pressed to his chest.

“I was born in California, my parents were high school sweethearts, they made me at prom. Learned that from the scrapbooks,” she laughs against his chest, “they were great and then they died when I was 14, it was a mass shooting at a mall, and I went to a foster home. I married the oldest son in the home after he groomed me for a few years… I met Penelope when I was 20 and she helped me get divorced and back on my feet and her brothers protected me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry you relate to loss.”

“It's the one thing that unites us all, really,” Spencer’s voice is barely a whisper. “When you think about it, we’re all born and we all die, the only difference is how we fill the middle.”

They never get to that bottle of wine he mentioned, she pulls back and asks the next question as she drags him to his bedroom. “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If I get to have kids.”

She drags him into the room and closes the door, “that was going to be my answer.”

“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?” He asks as she starts to take her clothes off.

“Sleep beside the love of my life.”

“I’ve never woken up beside the love of my life,” he replies with a soft smile and follows suit, getting undressed down to their underwear before climbing in bed.

“Greatest accomplishment?” She asks as they settle in, laying her cheek on his chest once more.

He takes a moment to think of everything he’s done that has been good, and one really stands out. “there was a case a few years back, we found a bunch of kids who went missing and returned them to their families and gave answers to the families of children who didn’t make it. Days like that feel like a reward.”

“Getting divorced,” she pushes the words out quickly.

“Most valued friendship?” He asks, knowing she doesn’t need to explain herself.

“Penelope.”

“Derek.”

“Most treasured memory?”

“When JJ placed her son in my arms and told me I was his godfather,” his voice is hushed and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to cry. “It's the closest I’ve gotten to being a father so far.”

“I got an end of the year present when I was first starting out, this girl told me that I was the reason she enjoyed reading again and it was the reason I started teaching, I’ll never forget her. Tammy Brownlee, she graduated in 2009 and we’ve been Facebook friends ever since.”

“Most terrible memory?”

“My parents dying.”

“You’d think mine would be dying right?” He asked, she nodded against his chest, “it was actually being held down by 3 men, getting a sock shoved in my mouth while they beat me.”

She kissed his chest softly, “I’m sorry, I know that feeling. Mind you, he was only 1 man, it’s not a good feeling.”

“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?”

“If it’s definite; not like a chance or a cancer statistic, if it’s like this is the day you die no ifs and's or butts, then I’d just continue as normal and have 1 really awesome day right before,” she smiles against him. “Make the most of it all.”

“If I was dying a year today, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Already?” She laughs, thinking he’s kidding.

“You want a nice husband and a kid? I will be good for you as long as I know you, and I’ll have as many kids as you want me to help you make.”

She’s silent as she thinks about it. “What does friendship mean to you?”

“Someone who is there for you even when they don’t want to be, even when it’s hard,” Spencer whispers, thinking about his friends.

“It means hacking the government and voiding a marriage and changing someone's name so they can escape,” Y/N whispers. “don’t tell the feds she did that too.”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“I crave it and hardly receive it, but I give it out like it’s a sample at costco,” she snickers at the example she gave. “It’s something that people have always admired about me and yet it’s also the thing that scares people away. When I love, I love hard and it’s full and annoying and you will feel suffocated sometimes, but just tell me when and I’ll back off.”

“I don’t know how to ask for what I need,” Spencer whispers. “But I need someone to love me like that.”

“The next one is to alternate 5 good things about each other,” she rests her chin on her hand as she looks up at his face in the darkness, “soft.”

He pauses for a moment, bypassing the easiest one and saying pretty, instead, he says; “you’re honest.”

“You’re very caring,” she replies.

“You see beauty in the world still.”

She smiles at that one, “you make the world beautiful.”

“You are beautiful.”

“And you’re handsome, that’s my 4th,” she keeps track in her head.

“You’re true, to your heart, your promises, everything.”

“And you’re real, you see the world for what it is and you don’t try to change it for the better. You want to make it manageable,” her explanation is the longest one yet. “Was your childhood happy, and do you feel close with your family still?”

“I write to my mom every single day and I drop the notes off weekly, and no,” he doesn’t want to cry, but he feels like he might again. “It was liveable, I made it.”

“Mine was happy until I was 14, then I was alone, I have 1 living aunt and she is strange but I get a card from her every Christmas,” Y/N adds. “I’d like to think your lack of love and my need to fill the world with what I miss from my parents will make a really good family dynamic.”

“Me too.”

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” She asks, “I think I know already, but it’s the next one.”

“She hit me a few years ago because I made her take some medicine, she hit me once when I was a kid too…” he whispers them so that they stay a secret, if they can’t be heard else where then they don’t exist in his mind. “She was a wonderful mother but the worst memories stick out the most now. She’s forgetting everything and all I can remember is how hard it’s been on me, like a bad son.”

“My mom was my best friend, and I still talk to her every day, I bring her and my dad around with me in my necklace,” she pulls the chain on her neck and shows him the little jar. “Mom, Dad, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom and dad.”

He holds it in his hand and tips it gently, “nice to meet you.”

“The next one is weird,” she changed the topic again.

“Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling…" Spencer says it verbatim. “We are both feeling understood.”

“We are both hopeful.”

“We are both falling in love,” Spencer ends the feelings with the most prominent one.

“We are,” she agrees with another smile.

“Finish this,” he insists on moving forward, “I wish I had someone I could share…”

“The rest of my life with,” she whispers this time. “If we become besties, what’s something I should know?”

“I think I’ve told you all the important stuff so far,” Spencer thinks hard, pausing for a moment. “My butt is ticklish?”

It makes her giggle, “that is a good one. My sides and the bottom of my feet are ticklish too.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met,” Spencer reads the question back from memory, “don’t be afraid to be too honest.”

“I like that you know how I feel but I hate that you’ve been hurt. I like how you listen to me, and I really like how comfortable you make me feel. I’m almost naked in your bed right now and I know you’d never, ever hurt me, and I haven’t felt that in a really long time.”

“I like that you are indulging me in the dream of becoming a husband and a dad one day… most people say it’ll happen but they never picture it. No one has ever said yeah id have your kids. I like that you know what you want and you’re actively looking for it.”

She moves up so she can hold his face in her hands, “only 7 more. Is it working?”

He nods, “my most embarrassing moment is the time I had a wet dream on the work jet.”

She laughs and then covers her mouth in panic, “I’m sorry that’s not funny.”

“It is, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I was dreaming about kissing this actress we helped, she actually did kiss me in the pool, so I guess it was bound to happen.”

She leans in and presses her lips against his, holding his cheeks in her hands his wrap around her waist as he holds her there. She peppers smaller kisses to his lips before pulling back, “we both cried in front of each other already today, so next question.”

“Tell me what you like about me already?”

Her hands trail his chest and down towards his boxers, he’s hard again from just kissing and she smirks, “this is promising.”

His hand on her back unclips her bra, “I love boobs, not even going to lie. They are my weakness.”

She pushes the straps down and tosses her bra aside, pressing her naked chest against his, she moves on. “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Being called insane, saying I'm seeing things, or acting crazy, those are things I don’t like to be told because they make my anxiety worse.”

“Noted,” she smiles. “I talk to myself a lot so get ready for that.”

“Okay,” he smiles, she’s way too easy to be real.

“I don’t want to mention my last husband from here on out, I think if I get married again I will never tell anyone I have a first husband,” she’s firm in her words.

“Technically, Y/N Garcia has never had a husband,” he reminds her.

Her face lights up at the realization, “you’re right.”

“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?” Spencer asks.

“I regret not screaming at my ex before I disappeared but I wanted to live.”

He hums, understanding how it feels. “There isn’t anyone in specific I’ve wanted to tell this to, but I wanted to kill people when I was in prison. It made me really angry being in there and I let myself dream about killing people who hurt me and then I almost did kill someone.”

“Remember what you said about bad guys?” She whispers a helpful tip, “even the worst people deserve to have a chance at life. And you’re not hardly as bad as the worst people you’ve met.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Thank you.”

“This place burns down, what’s one thing you’d run back inside for? Outside of people and animals…” she asks the 3rd last question.

“The book Maeve gave me.”

“The girlfriend who died?” She confirms, and he nods. “If my place with Penelope burned down, I just want my necklace and I don’t take it off that often.”

“The next question is interesting,” Spencer thinks about it, “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing, and why?”

“I’m glad I wasn’t at the mall with my parents, if I saw them get shot it would hurt more,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to see Maeve die like that.”

“In a way, I’m glad I saw Maeve get shot, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed it. She never felt real to me and then she was dead…”

She just hums, “Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it,” she whispers the last question.

“Also, ask your partner to reflect to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen,” Spencer adds in the second half.

“I need to find a place to stay now that I’m here, I don’t want to keep living with Penelope. As much as I love her, I want my own place,” Y/N admits.

“I think I’m in love with this girl that I just met and I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask her to look for a house with me?” Spencer pretends to sigh, “she’s super cool and I think we’d make some nice kids. I would love some advice.”

“Has she told you she loves you yet?” She teases.

Spencer shakes his head. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she replies, leaning in one more time to kiss him.

It’s deeper this time, she breathes him in and rests her forehead against his as she breathes between them.

“How did that work?” She whispers, truly amazed at how easy it was.

He shrugs, “it’s a good questionnaire.”

“You were really honest, your heart is really pure and I would like to get to know you more, but I feel like I know everything?” She shakes her head while she talks, overthinking all the things she has learned, “I don’t even know what could be left?”

“My birthday is October 28th?” He whispers, “we have a lot to discover yet.”

—

When she doesn’t come home in the morning, Penelope knows she’s at Reid’s house. She just doesn’t expect to walk in and find them naked in Reid’s bed, out cold and cuddled together with their clothes all over the room.

It looks like something happened. If only she knew the truth.

“Oh my god?” Penelope’s voice wakes them up and Spencer scrambles to make sure they are covered by his blankets.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N shouts as she wakes up.

“I came to see if you were okay. I expected one of you to be on the couch, I didn’t think it went this good?”

“We just slept in the same bed, I promise,” Spencer turned bright red as he panicked, “we just got to know each other and talked all night, in what we normally sleep in.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope smirks, “so I take it the 36 questions worked?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N smirks back at her sister.

“Do you use it on many people?”

“No one has made it past the first question,” she smiles at him instead, kissing his cheek as Penelope watches.

“That’s my queue to go, um… yeah, wow, I didn’t see this happening so fast,” Penelope is shocked but in the best way.

She leaves just as fast as she arrived and Y/N settles back into Spencer the second she closes the bedroom door. “You know, if she’s not going to believe us we might as well do it? If you accidentally get me pregnant then we can move fast and no one will question it.”

He laughs, “accidentally, is the key word there.”

“My parents made me at prom after crushing on each other for 2 years… I think knowing each other for 2 days isn’t the weirdest way to start a family?”

“Honestly,” Spencer lets out a sigh and her happy mood drops to a more serious one. “I was a little worried that we’d wake up this morning and you’d change your mind.”

“Why?”

“In the heat of the moment, learning everything about each other and saying I love you was really exhilarating, but I have a hard time believing it,” he admits, “not many people mean it, or stay around after they tell me they love me.”

She cuddles back into the crook of his neck and holds him as tightly as possible, wrapping a leg around him for optimal coverage, “I am staying right here, because I love you, Spencer.”

“Okay,” he whispers. Sounding like he still doesn’t believe it.

“I love you because you’re honest, you want what I want and you’re truly kind. You’re friends with my sister, you’re smart, you would make a great dad, you won't hurt me, you are really nice to cuddle with, and I know you mean it when you say you love me because it’s not a word you use lightly.”

“Are you my girlfriend now?” He wonders aloud, “cause if you really want to have a kid, I have my mom's old wedding ring in my closet, and I would rather be married to you before we do that?”

“Okay,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she hides her face in his neck, “the courthouse is literally just down the road?”

“We can get breakfast together after?” Spencer adds, rubbing her back as they plan, he wasn’t scared anymore.

“Penelope will kill me if she’s not there, can we have her as our witness?” Y/N finally sits up to look at him, pulling away to sit on the bed, still shirtless.

His smile while he tries to keep eye contact with her is so funny, she giggles a little as she hides her nipples behind her palms and cups her boobs.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still in my living room,” Spencer giggles, “Penelope!?”

She comes back in then, “yes?”

“We’re going to the courthouse to get married, wanna come?” Y/N asks with an embarrassed smile.

“Yes!” She cheers, “I’ll go get you a dress!”

And then she’s off again, this time actually leaving Spencer’s apartment. “What if we don’t tell Derek, and let him hit on me next week anyway?

“Then you can say ‘sorry I have a husband,’ and he’ll body slam me to the floor,” Spencer laughs nervously, “the whole team is going to be so pissed they missed my wedding…”

She frowns, “send out a mass text, tell them to meet us at the court house, it’s their day off right?”

“You’re right,” he smiles.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Walking out of the courthouse, hand in hand, she’s in a white dress, he’s in a suit he’d probably wear to work, Penelope is crying and the whole team is waiting outside for them.

At the bottom of the courthouse steps, they all clap and cheer, throwing rice at them like an old movie, Spencer’s smiling so hard his cheeks are burning. Y/N introduces herself to everyone, hugged over and over by everyone she should have met 15 years ago.

Derek is tapping his foot, waiting for Spencer to come and hug him, “what the fuck?” He asks as Spencer steps into his space, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his back and forth.

“Nice try, I’ll give you $20 as a thank you,” Spencer teases as he pulls away. “She is perfect.”

JJ and Will are busy talking to Y/N when he turns around, Mike and Henry not far behind them. Spencer walks over and wraps Henry up in his arms, the kid was growing way too fast, Spencer loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Y/N, this is my godson,” Spencer introduces them, “Henry, this is Y/N.”

She gives him a big hug too, “do you have any cousins, Henry?”

“No, but I was 8 when Michael was born,” he smiles, “and I’m getting old enough to be a good babysitter?”

Spencer laughed, messing up Henry’s hair quickly with a smile, “I’m sure by the time you’re a cousin you’ll be great.”

They take a group photo outside, Spencer and Y/N in the middle, everyone was smiling. It was the first time all of them had been in a photo together, the entirety of Spencer’s found family. Now they were Y/N’s too.

She hyphenated her last name, Y/N Garcia-Reid, and their kids would share the same one. He was not only about became a father thanks to Y/N, but Penelope would also become an Aunt once more. It was like a gift that kept on giving, seeing Spencer and Y/N create a little family of their own.

—

She cried her eyes out when she met Diana. She wasn’t expecting to be so emotional, but then Diana was lucid and very welcoming and sweet.

“It’s going to be a pleasure having you as my daughter,” Diana smiles, thinking it was just a nice thing to say.

Y/N cries and holds her so tight Diana almost can’t breathe but she lets her hold her as long as she needs to, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I haven’t had someone to call mom since I was 14,” Y/N whispers, “if that’s okay?”

Diana hugs her just a little too tight in response, “you can call me mom whenever you want.”

“Just until you become a grandma,” she whispers again as she pulls back and Diana’s attention snaps to Spencer.

“Are you trying?”

He nods, “we want kids, we’re not getting any younger.”

Diana wraps him up in a hug and he almost falls off his chair at the sheer force of it, she was so happy for him. She knew this was all he’s ever wanted; because he would be good at it, he had all this love in his heart, and he wanted to show his father how easy it is to stay.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Spencer,” she holds his cheeks as she pulls away, “I’m proud of you.”

He cried. It’s all he’s wanted from her, and now he has everything right here in this room.

—

When they find out they’re pregnant after the first try, it’s really funny to them. It was all working so well, it was a little too much for them at first. They were looking for a house, she was looking for a permanent teaching job but Spencer convinced her to wait until after the baby is born to go back.

They name her Morgan Garcia-Reid as a thank you for Derek’s little bet, and before she’s even 6 months old they’re pregnant again. By the time they have 4 kids under 5 they take a break and just enjoy their little family.

To think Derek gave them 7 days to fall in love… and then they lived happily ever after.

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[spilledkauffie]

Game Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.2k T/W: fluff A/N: Part 2 of Bingo — a few months later

I am SO SORRY this took me way longer to post than it should have!

Bucky Tag List: @anreeixcobra ❤︎ @tsnelf7 ❤︎ @fandom-princess-forevermore​

It was Friday night, which meant one thing: Game Night. Ever since Yori introduced you at Bingo, you made it a tradition in your relationship to play board games on Fridays. For the most part you kept it to fairly modern games, but tonight was going to be a surprise.

Tonight it was your place, 8 o’clock. Bucky showed up with a six pack of root-beer in glass bottles. You added a few to the fridge as he found his usual seat at your apartment table. He waited for you to round the small apartment’s bar and join him. Sliding the glass bottles across the table to Bucky, you smiled, biting in your bottom lip, as he slid your bottle back, now without its top.

Easily he popped the top off his own bottle with his left hand; it was as he was about to take a sip that he caught sight of your look, “what?” he furrowed his eyebrows, questionably. 

“So. . . tonight,” you tried not to giggle.

“What?” Bucky asked again, this time finding himself following your smile despite his will not to.

“Tonight is going to be special,” you clasped your hands together, “because I found some stuff that’s as old as you.”

“Wow, thanks,” Bucky said sarcastically, taking a sip, shaking his head, blinking softly as he saw you rush to convince him it would be fun. Sighing deeply, he gave in, “alright, what is it?”

“I’ll be right back,” you twirled on your heel and left the room.

Returning to shaking his head and the glass bottle, he paused after settling the bottle on the table. It’d been a long time since anyone cared about anything actually as old as him. He’d been pretty good at keeping up with the times, a lot of things he knew just got an upgrade, but the thought of something from his actual childhood felt a little heartwarming. 

“Okay,” you declared, reentering the room with a stack of vintage boxes in your arms that made Bucky lean back in his chair out of shock, “here we are.” 

His jaw dropped a little at what you had brought out as you set the stack on the table. Watching you take a deep breath and exhale with a smirk, he shook his head, this time silently asking “how?” You set your hands atop the stack, rapping your fingers across the top box as you smiled again. 

Smoothing your hands out across the box top, you cleared your throat, “no peeking,”  bringing Bucky’s attention entirely to you. 

“Option number one,” you held up the rectangular shape with severely faded letters across it, “Scrabble, released 1938.” The box very gently met the table, “option number two,” you looked at him attempting not to giggle as you saw him cross his arms over his chest, genuinely listening to you intently, “Sorry! released 1934, Battleship, original pen and paper game,” you clarified, he lifted his eyebrows, impressed, “and last but not least, Monopoly, released 1935.”

“Wow, you uh- you really did your research,” he commented, looking over the stack of authentically vintage boxes.

“Of course,” you shrugged with a smile, “my boyfriend’s 106, if I want to bring back some childhood nostalgia, that requires some research. . . and late hour ebay bidding in our case.”  

He nodded, a faint smile showing, before it faded with his next words, “I hope you didn’t do too much research on me,” he looked up, hand resting on Monopoly.

You calmly slid down into the seat across from him and stared with a kind smile still on your lips, reaching to touch his hand, you stroked your thumb against his knuckles, “I’m more of a first hand account, direct source, kind of girl when it comes to people,” the corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. 

You knew, just not everything, and he wasn’t sure he was prepared to have another living soul know it all quite yet. Luckily, you were someone who seemed to actually understand that.

“Or,” you announced, lifting a pointer finger, as if requesting a pause whilst you went to a nearby drawer, returning with a much smaller box, “we can get really really old school, even for you” the box met the table top, “standard 52 card deck, English edition, circa 1516. . .obviously not original.”

Bucky chuckled, looking to you, tonguing his cheek, before picking up the cards, “I hate to tell you, but that’s just a little before my time,” he squinted at you, teasingly.

Biting your lip, your shoulders shifted with the giggle that came after his comment, “so, come on,” you sat back down, this time with your elbows on the table and hands laced, to support your resting chin on top of them, “what should I beat your butt in?”

“Oh,” Bucky, attempting to appear insulted, began raising his eyebrows, “you think?”

“Yeah,” you laughed your words while looking at his serious face, “I think, better yet, I know.”

“Well, I don’t know where you get your confidence from. You know you are talking to a local senior Bingo night champion,” he shrugged with a head tilt, as if that was supposed to be a big deal.

“Woooow,” you drew out, smiling uncontrollably.

“But,” he sighed, “okay,” he shook his head once, accepting your challenge, “let’s go, you’re on! Monopoly,” he brought the box towards himself as you set the others on the floor next to your chair.

You watched as he picked up the little metal pieces, examining each one individually. There was an expression you’d never seen before, he was remembering something positive from his past. A memory that sparked a smile that you helped bring about. He surveyed the board, with all its bright colours and familiar street names.

“It’s been-” he paused, looking upward, doing the math in his head, “it’s been 85 years since I played this game,” setting each piece he stopped at the boat, laughing to himself, “you know, Steve used to always be the battleship.” 

A soft smile came across your lips, while you watched him remember exactly how to set it up. You picked the Scottie dog and he picked the vintage race car piece.

“Were you always the race car?” you ventured, wanting to know more about his childhood, you knew he didn’t talk about it often.

“Oh,” he glanced to the piece he had just naturally picked up without a thought, “yeah, well, I think,” he gave a quick, but somber smile, before clearing his throat, and actually looking up, “and my sister, whenever she’d actually manage to get mom and dad to let her stay up with us, she’d always be the thimble,” he leaned back in his chair, smiling, “whenever it was her turn to move she’d put it on her finger and hop it down the street names.” He leaned back to the table, “we never made her go to jail, even if she landed on it, Steve would make up some rule that let her skip it.” 

“That’s really sweet of you guys,” you said, looking softly at his smile.

“Yeah,” he swallowed, “but don’t think you can skip jail,” he changed his tone, preferring not to dwell on the past even if it was positive. 

“Don’t think I’ll be visiting,” you smirk confidently, “better watch out for the money man yourself.” 

“Wow, who is this?” he dropped his jaw, “she’s so sarcastic, does Yori know this side of you? Do you sneak jellybeans under the table or something evil like that?”

Laughing, you took your root-beer, “just give me my $1,500 so the smack down can actually begin.”

Two hours later, after a long battle between Boardwalk, control over the railroads, and many, many visits to jail, you sat back, lips quirked, arms across your chest as your little Scottie sat in jail.

“And three thousand, six hundred, and five. . . I’m sorry, but that leaves you,” Bucky set his elbows on the table, wincing at you, “bankrupt.”

“Fine,” you huffed jokingly, giving your best pout,“you win.”

“Aww, c’mon,” Bucky reached out a hand to touch your forearm comfortingly, accompanied by a smile you couldn’t deny.

“You wanna go again?” You offered seriously, resting your hand on top of his tenderly, happy to see him so happy.

“It was really fun, but let’s play something else, this time you pick,” he offered.

Breaking into a smile, you gave a nod, and he asked what you had in mind. It took a moment, you wanted to make this good, and you wanted to see it be a little more of a struggle for him, if you were honest. 

“You know, I know it’s later than your. . .original timeline, but there’s this fantastic game called Twister,” you smirked, perking an eyebrow to ask if he was up for it. 

“Twister?” He repeated you, tilting his head like a confused puppy, “what’s Twister?”

“I’ll show you, but,” you glanced over to your small apartment living room, “we might need to arrange the furniture a little.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky stood, “I can handle that.” 

Smiling, you stand, “okay, just push it all to one side, I’ll get the game.” 

Ten minutes later, shoeless, you both stood looking over the polka dotted sheet on the floor. Nodding happily to yourself, Bucky shook his head almost in fear. 

“Make sense?” You asked, having just explained the very simple rules, you turned to face him.

“Oh, I’m sorry I asked,” he sighed, shouldering off his jacket and tossing it onto the couch along with his glove, “yeah, it makes sense,” he set his hands on his hips, pondering this new game intently. 

“Okay, you first,” you held up the spinning arrow, and began.

One hand and foot at a time, sometimes struggling to reach the spinner, but you both made it work pretty well. Having kept to one side of the sheet, it came time to get a smidge more twisted.

Bucky managed to keep balanced and spin a green dot with his left arm, conveniently it placed him right over you. As he began to reach for green, he carefully calculated how best to approach the green dot in order to keep his balance. It was a pretty far reach and he’d need to balance himself whilst reaching over you. 

“What’s the matter old man, can’t quite move like you used to?” you shamelessly giggled. 

Raising his eyebrows at your tone, “ohhh, wow,” Bucky said sincerely, finally placing his left arm over you and to a green dot, now above you he tilted his head sassily, “respect your elders.”

His last sentence only made your giggle turn into a genuine laugh. You closed your eyes and threw your head back a little. Admittedly, Bucky thought it was funny too, but he didn’t laugh, he just took in your smile and the sound of your laugh, enjoying every single moment of it.

When you brought your head back up, you were about to respond sassily, but instead you found his lips meeting yours. With a small squeak of surprise, you relaxed into the kiss, glad that he was finally confident enough with you to take a chance now and then. He tasted like vanilla root beer, which mixed wonderfully with the scent of his cologne you were finally close enough to smell. 

It was soft and slow at first, but slowly, with his right hand palming the arch of your back, you eased into his touch, lower back almost meeting the floor as you both sunk down a little. You completely forgot about the game, as you reached your arms around his neck gently. Keeping the kiss close, you felt him hesitate to deepen it, so you gave him a small sign of encouragement, by moving your hand to the side of his neck, naturally bringing him even closer. 

You had no idea how long you’d been there, on that polka dot sheet, but it was such bliss that you didn’t even care. Smiling into the kiss, you felt him smile back. 

Parting, he pressed his forehead to yours, “I win,” he whispered, lips in a smile. 

“What?” was all you could ask, still mesmerised by the kiss. 

Bucky motioned his head to his left arm which happened to have been keeping the two of you steady. . . all the while remaining on the green dot. You dropped your arms from around his neck, to the floor, elbows supporting you as you looked up at him, shaking your head. 

“That does not count, Bucky,” you tried not to smile as he kept his arm as still as possible.

“What? But my hand’s still on green,” he dramatically gestured to it, making you bite your lip to repress a giggle, trying to match his seriousness.

Shoving his chest directly above you, he feigned an ‘ow!’ before you softly pull him closer again.

“If I kiss you are you gonna hit me again?”

You smirk, “I might if you don’t.” 

Bucky smiled, lips almost touching yours, “alright, sorry,” he smiled, voice almost a whisper as his lips brushed against yours, “I’m still learning the rules to this game.”

[honeymouthedtales]

This chapter has answered all of my questions and theories that i have silently kept to myself to analyze them all by my lonesome. Ever since the Islands Arc started, my heart had been rooting for DS; seeing her disrespected and underestimated by her people, her family, makes me really sad. I feel like DH, and now their mother, were the only ones who truly believed in her. It makes me agitated no one thinks DS going to marry a foreigner, leaving her home to live in an enemy country, (cont.)

(cont.) bearing said enemy’s child is just as important, tiring and draining as DH being king. And now that she’s heir, people only care about missing DH and how he’s being treated… WTF!!! I’m so glad you brought to light about MK’s situation with being passed the crown from his brother, just like DS right now. I’ve always wondered how that played out; how MK and his brother felt and reacted to the new development, how their relationship was like. With MK and DS being in the same boat, (cont.)

(cont.) I feel like MK could really help her out and share how he’s handled it. MK-DS besties is so heartwarming! its like MK can finally see who DS is NOW than he did during their 15 years of engagement, they were too busy trying to play the perfect husband/wife to really build a true friendship, I could imagine. But DS has perseverance and resilience, to be able to withstand her role as a wife, no one would do what she could (MK said so). I can also imagine that DS training to be a (cont.)

(cont.) prince's wife had been different to training to be the wife of a future king. How did everyone back then feel that DS was going to be queen of the Vale? Her education could have changed to prep her for being a queen, but im guessing a wife in the Islands is different than a wife in the Vale. I could see how everyone looked down on her for trying to be a lady of the Vale and not a lady of the Shar. I’m secretly yearning for a DS side story, she deserves all the love and support!! (cont.)

(cont.) I’m so sorry about my rant, this was a lot I know! i hav a word limit to my ask. But I really needed to get this out of my chest now that ch 58 has satisfied all my theories! You have stated multiple times that you don’t plan ahead, you write as you go in the moment and I didn’t want to say anything for fear of changing your work process. But everything is good now!!! Keep up the good work! Stay healthy and happy!

Joining all your asks into one for clarity.

Yeah, one of the reasons I'm really happy to have written this arc is that for so long people have worked on assumptions greatly shaped by our main characters, Mark who knows very little about the Islands and has only been with Dongsoon a few weeks every year, and Donghyuck who is fiercely loyal to his country and misses it terribly and so is bound to have very good feelings about it.

Many people were surprised to see Dongsoon being neglected because they had come to imagine the Islands being a beautiful place, more fair and equal compared to the Vale. It's only partly true. While the Islands are more willing to challenge some outdated views, they're not a perfectly place and they're affected by period-typical prejudices.

I didn't always have in mind to make Dongsoon's experience being so hard in the Islands, but as soon as the arc started and Yangyang appeared I realized that it only made sense for him to disrespect her because he's used to her just being Donghyuck's sister and not the crown princess. And if he does it, then maybe other people are doing it. Dongsoon was raised to be someone who blended into the situation, doing her thing without being seen because that was seen as a virtue. She was also not trained with weapons (even though some girls are trained) nor in trade, because as the queen of the Vale she wouldn't be able to keep up with that kind of education. She was, however, trained to be a skilled diplomat, and she did study together with Donghyuck and they're both equally smart and not competitive with each other so her education as a princess is not lacking. But she never had to prove that she was fit to rule the way Donghyuck did, nor she gained anyone's respect by bonding with important people or participating in campaigns, or training with the troops.

That's why I really wanted her and Mark to have this moment, because Mark is seeing her as a fellow heir right now, and he's seeing her struggling with the same problems he had in the past, and as someone whose abilities have been doubted by his father again and again, and had to prove himself to everyone, he is in a place of understanding from where he can help her by sharing his experience.

Also, when I started writing this fic some characters were barely fleshed out. Dongsoon appeared so little in this fic in the beginning, and always in moments filled with tension, as a background to Mark and Donghyuck's troubled relationship (i.e. Mark's kiss with her is seen as a negative thing that threatens their relationship, and generally when we think of her spending time with Mark we imagine how must Donghyuck suffered because of it). The few times she appeared as a positive character were in Donghyuck's interludes, but I was really aching to show that Mark and Dongsoon had a good relationship and could even have a better one now.

I also really really wanted to avoid the 'Donghyuck is jealous of his sister route' because it never existed in my p.lans. He loves her dearly, he trusts her dearly, and it could've been easy to hate her for taking Mark when Donghyuck wanted him, but he simply didn't because he loves her. They have a lot of respect for each other, they trust each other, they love each other, and being apart was hard for both of them, especially after having this special bond.

And also it might not be immediate to understand, but the fact that they complete each other so well is one of the reasons no one realized they were Alpha and Omega, because they covered for each other's character flaws and always balanced each other out. Dongsoon always covered for Donghyuck when he got in trouble and went to save him like a good Alpha, but people thought she was an Omega wanting to comfort her Alpha brother. At the same time, Donghyuck was constantly acting out because he needed the attention, and people thought it was a sign of him being an Alpha dragging his sister along in his adventures, but it was actually Dongsoon who stopped him when he was going too far and he always listened to her and trusted her judgment. They are two sides of the same coin in the end.

So this - having Mark getting along with her - is going to make all of them happy, because Donghyuck has the most important Alphas in his life on his side, and both Mark and Dongsoon gain an Alpha friend (especially for Dongsoon, who has no experience being an Alpha, Mark's help will be invaluable) and an ally in stopping Donghyuck from doing something crazy. I'm so glad I had the chance to write about their relationship because I really like it.

[enduracarrotchips]

YouTuber AU

Hello welcome to Dating Scandal but with Twitter Involved (nightmare)

A little exposition here: 

Link, Zelda, Sidon, Revali, and Riju are the most popular group of youtubers on the internet and have a huge fanbase that likes to theorize, draw fanart, and write fanfiction about them. Disclaimer, I don’t actually interact with real-person fandoms myself lol there’s just too much potential for drama and misunderstandings & they’re always bound to end in a dumpster fire but that is sort of what this au is about so.

Impa, Mipha, Daruk, and Urbosa are family friends that appear in a lot of their videos/streams. 

(This is an art blog I swear)

enter vidcon 20XX

Link: 

blows stuff up/sets stuff on fire with a side of cooking vids and gaming

most are filmed outside, he does those challenges where you try to cook stuff with limited ingredients/materials

has the largest fanbase of all of them, but not the most…intimidating.

does a lot of collab videos, mostly with Impa, Daruk, and Riju because they have similar interests/channels, but Zelda appears in his videos and is seen filming and the stans read too far into it

simps. i’m pointing at you.

Most popular videos are “shield surfing on rock!—how I broke my leg” “can Daruk eat Impa’s motorcycle?” and “how to inhale ranch dressing.”

Twitter handle is @ arsonistslullabye because he’s a hozier fan

45m subs

Zelda:

theories, analyses, conspiracies, and the occasional e x p e r i m e n t

she once got link to eat a frog for 50 bucks.

most people argue that she’s better than more popular YouTubers because she actually has quality content to give to the world and she has a lot of defensive supporters

She used to get a lot of hate before Urbosa spoke up about it and scared the bejeezus out of everyone

has an actual posting schedule

“Happy Sunday everyone, it’s Zelda Hyrule and today we will be talking about cryptozoology and why blupees exist, you cowards.”

Twitter handle is @ zeldaofhyrule and she is pan. just so you know. One of those calm extroverts that mystify me to this day.

18m subs

Sidon:

fashion/life hacks. Like gourmet troom troom but if they were real people.

Has the 2nd largest fanbase

most of them are girls

Sidon has a boyfriend though, which he told everyone at VidCon a few years ago

cue the drama and shipping and the entire fandom trying to figure out who the boyfriend is. A well known reddit thread emerged that presented the common guesses being Link, Sidon, and Zelda.

“But it can’t be Zelda, Sidon’s gay.”

“I’m not in the fandom but I thought Zelda was a boy??”

“Did you just say Sidon? Is that a typo? Are you saying that Sidon’s dating himself?”

Sidon x Sidon became a fandom joke.

Don’t look at me I’m just setting up all the worldbuilding. every fandom has their weird dark sides and Sidon x Sidon is the Linkcest of the Sidon YT fandom.

Mystery BF is actually Bazz, a pretty inconspicuous guy who appeared in a few of his videos. This was confirmed a year ago, but everyone still ships him with other YouTubers because they’re convinced he was lying to throw them off his scent. He really can’t catch a break and this is why you should not ship real people.

Twitter handle is @ officialprincesidon

says “beguiling” a lot

21m subs ᕙ( ͡❛ ▿ ͡❛)ᕗ

Mipha:

Sidon’s sister, hasn’t posted a single video but just has the channel for show because she appears in so many of Sidon’s videos as a model for his makeup tutorials and whatnot

has 328k for that. Everyone loves her, she’s great. @ mimipha

Revali:

Link’s sworn rival

Link thinks they’re friends

He kept popping up in link’s Twitter threads and making snarky comments until zelda called him out for not even following link (so why was he stalking his acc) which kept the Twitter drama to a minimum

Revali was the catalyst of a few popular memes and that’s where most of his subs come from.

drags link into a few challenges that always get a ton of views because of how competitive they get

“ITS JUST ASININE” is a running joke that everyone tries to get him to say. His @ is itsjustasinine as well

Urbosa is the only person who can win an argument with him

5m subs and growing rapidly. newer to youtube than everyone else.

Impa:

Doesn’t have a channel she’s just a mutual friend of Mipha, Zelda, and Link

Rides a motorcycle, so she is used in a few of Link’s videos.

@ ihaveamotorcycle because she thinks having a motorcycle is a personality trait. the most unruly on Twitter when it comes to replying to fan’s stuff, leaking upcoming videos and generally causing chaos.

Mipha’s girlfriend. That’s how she met Zelda and Link.

Urbosa:

Is actually a model, but she has a ton of YouTuber friends because she’s known Zelda since birth.

when she entered the youtube community she didn’t realize she would be adopting like 15 children

5m subs. her videos are professional & related to her modelling career. @ urbosasfury

I feel like she would do unboxing vids. I’m not sure what she’s unboxing.

Daruk

Just a friend of Link’s, fun guy. yells a lot. once ate a rock and had no reaction.

people are scared of him for that reason

Riju:

yoga & gymnastics & “ha look at how flexible I am its eAsY” videos

you know the type

she also does reactions and is sponsored by save the sand seals charities which she is very enthusiastic about. She’s also Urbosa’s niece and the only minor in the gang (15). I like to think that the champions YT community is actually not creepy so everyone respects her a ton

doesn’t post frequently, she mostly appears in Link’s videos to jump out of airplanes or whatever. And sometimes Zelda’s if she’s interested in the topic. 500k subs, but she’s always really popular when she appears in Link’s videos.

VidCon:

In the months leading up to VidCon, some fans on the internet made a few discoveries: first of all, that the inside of Link’s house is painted green. This is a big deal because all of his videos are filmed outside either in his backyard or on trips that he and the brosquad go on to do…whatever bros do. explosions. idk. The point is he had some announcement about VidCon and filmed it inside. Only the wall and a potted plant were shown.

However, the colour was similar to the the shade of Zelda’s living room. Fans dug through years and years of old videos and found a clip of Zelda walking through a hallway, where there was an open door and a glimpse of a houseplant.

There were 2 types of responses to the theory:

“They could just be roommates guys calm down”

“and they were ROOMMATES?”

others pointed out that Link could just not have a house and had to crash in Zelda’s

Some guy on reddit claimed he had a botany degree and declared that the houseplants in the clips were not of the same genus. Normal people pointed out that the plant would have grown 4 years between the clips and would look considerably different.

#Zelink trended on twitter for a while and people posted other old clips from both of their channels and the frog video blew up again

Impa retweeted a post tagged as #zelink with “rofl” and later publicly apologized for causing confusion.

Fans noticed that in the “can a motorcycle drive over my arm” (it was clickbait he’s fine) episode 2 years ago, Link was eating out of a paper lunch bag with his name written on it in handwriting that a few people claimed to look like Zelda’s, leading people to believe that she had packed him a lunch.

However, this theory was shot down with the counterargument that Zelda can’t cook. although. i mean how much skill do you need to make a sandwich.

No one knows what tumblr is doing at this time

Zelda wore a scarf in her “Save the Sand Seals” video that matched identically to the scarf Link wore when he travelled to Hebra to film a shield surfing video, but it’s been debated wether it’s actually the same scarf or not.

Neither Zelda nor Link has spoken up about the theories, and besides Impa’s one slip on twitter, neither has any of their friends. Zelda received a lot of backlash for the assumption that she was dating Link because he has a lot of delusional fans that didn’t want her to “steal their man” or whatever the hell that type of fan would get mad about

Oh yea and bolson & karson run a zelink fanpage on twitter sorry I forgot about that

after that whole mess, everyone was even more anticipant of VidCon in the hopes that some of their questions would be answered.

The whole batch went to VidCon this year: Link, Impa, Daruk, and Riju are a gang while Sidon and Mipha go together and Zelda & Revali each go separately. Urbosa is there for supervision moral support

Zelda has always been much better at dodging questions that she doesn’t want to answer than anyone else, so her Q&A went without a hitch. When asked to confirm the rumours she said “which one?” and then moved on to the next question (without actually confirming any rumours).

Link is generally a more awkward person but eventually said that he had filmed the video in Zelda’s house because it was nicer and didn’t realize it would cause such an uproar. Fans were disappointed, but Bolson claimed he saw Link and Zelda exiting the hotel elevator on the same floor after Link’s Q&A session. No one believed him.

Fans went back to theorizing over who Link, Zelda, and Sidon were all dating, because apparently they can’t just be dating unknown people and have to be with other YouTubers

Sidon and Bazz got engaged about a week after VidCon, making at least 4 preteen girls cry

actually try 4 million

Sidon x Sidon made a brief comeback but Sidon spoke up about his fandom for the first time ever on twitter and told everyone that no, he was not dating himself. eventually, everyone settled down and accepted that none of them were in a relationship save for a few loud fans.

Link and Zelda still got the occasional “when will you tell us who you’re dating?” comment but most of them were joking and the people who still hardcore shipped them were generally frowned upon. Zelda’s popularity went up after VidCon and she regained the 200k subscribers she’d lost after the first theory dropped.

Two months after VidCon, Link posted a video titled “Zelda and I’s House Tour!” and gave around 45 million people a heart attack

as revealed in the video, they had actually been dating since they were 16 and everyone’s just a fool.

the potted plant is named Hestu.

[supercorpkid]

A normal day in the Luthor-Danvers house.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 1780.

“So then, I took my glasses off, and I swear it was not intentional, but my heat vision went off and I-I blew it right off of Lena’s hand. Man, she was pissed.” You smile and Jamie tries to hold a laughter and it comes out like a squeaky noise.

“Damn. Not a dull moment in the Karlena house.” She recovers herself and smiles to the ground while you consider what she just said.

“Karlena?” You furrow your brows, confused.

“Karlena, duh. Kara plus Lena.” She explains like you didn’t understand in the first place. That wasn’t the problem, you understood.

“What? Jamie, that’s terrible. We all know SuperCorp is like, a lot better.” You wave her off. “Besides, we do have dull moments. It’s not everyday we’re fighting aliens, destroying things or inventing things. Some days we just… Exist.”

“Oh, please. You three wouldn’t know what it’s like to just ‘exist’ if it hit you in the face.” Jamie crosses her legs and arms like she is trying to impose her thought. Sure, most of the times the things that happen with your family are not something people can relate to, but it’s not like you’re aliens… Wait. Nevermind.

“Excuse me.” You try to sound offended. “I admit we’ve been through a lot.”

“Mhm.” She strongly agrees with her head.

“But we’re still pretty much normal most of the time.”

“I think it’s cute you’re trying to convince me that, like I don’t know everything about you and your moms.” She gives a pretentious smile. “But if it will make you feel any better… Why don’t you tell me about the next ‘normal’ day you guys have?”

“Ok, mhm, sure.” You agree with your head taking this as a challenge. And you’re not one to back out from a challenge. “Next time we have a normal day, I’ll tell you all about it, and you’ll see we’re just another normal family.” As soon as your finish with the sentence, you see Maya coming at your direction and both of you just change the subject immediately.

“Hey cuties.” She says with a smile, and you push your bag to the side so you can make room for her on your lunch table. “You cool?”

You give her a nod, and a quick kiss, before looking at Jamie and thinking about the conversation. She wants normal? You will show her normal.

It is very annoying to you that it takes a whole week before you can declare one day as a normal one. And this is a normal day around your house, you know, one filled with dull moments:

“Kid, time to get up.” Kara knocks on your door serving, as always, as your wake-up call. You roll to the side, not getting up, wanting five more minutes.

And as always, five minutes later:

“Come on, babygirl. School. Let’s go.” Lena opens the door and you finally open your eyes.

“Nooo.” You complain, making Lena give you a soft smile in return.

“Yes, come on. It’s like this every day.” She doesn’t leave until you’re up on your feet despite all of your protests. “We’re leaving in 15.”

You do your entire shower-get dressed-brush teeth routine using your super speed, so you’re downstairs in less than five minutes.

“Hey, babyface.” Kara holds your face, when you’re passing through her, and she kisses your temple. “Had a good night?”

“Eh. It was decent.” You untangle yourself from her and go to the fridge. “We’re out of milk.”

“No, we’re not.” Lena’s voice comes from behind you. You turn around to look at her, all suit up. She has a maroon suit on, and her hair is tied up in a very tight ponytail. She looks very impressive which is normal for her. “Look carefully.”

“I did!” You answer and you see her coming to the fridge. She puts her hand inside and takes a carton of milk out.

“Milk, daughter. Daughter, milk.” She says ironically and you close the refrigerator door with a huff sound. “Eat fast, I have a meeting I can’t be late to.”

“You always have meetings.” You go to the table and sit next to Kara. “And you can never be late to any of them.” You pour cereal into a bowl, and then milk. “It’s like this every day.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, baby.” Kara states.

“It might not, but it does sustain me.” You open a big smile. You still eat fast, though.

Lena drives you to school. This whole driving with her started when Kara was still terrified to let you walk alone. Now, she’s a little less scared, but you kept getting ready on time, and Lena never said anything to make you believe she wants this to stop, so you just keep riding with her. Because having those 10 minutes in the car ride with her it’s good, even when you’re distracted.

“How’s school now that you’re back?” She asks while staring straight ahead, and when the answer doesn’t come, she looks back at you. She takes one hand out of the wheel, and pokes your cheek. “Hey! What’s more interesting in your phone than me?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.” You joke with a smile, and you hear a sarcastic ‘ha ha’ in return. “School is still there.”

“Baby…”

“I’m joking, jeez.” You put your phone away and pat her shoulder trying to calm her. “Everything is fine, mom. I got my grades back up, and everyone loves me now.”

“Yeah?”

“No, I’m just kidding again.” You laugh and she makes an annoyed sound that you decide to ignore. She stops the car in front of the school, and you see Jamie getting out of her mami’s momvan. “Well, gotta go. Thanks for the ride.” You kiss her cheek. “Love ya, have a great day!”

“You too, babygirl.” Lena smiles back at you, watching you getting out of the car. “Don’t break anything, I love you!”

You close the door and turn on your heels, rolling your eyes. If you had a dollar for every time Lena said ‘don’t break anything’, you would be the billionaire by now.

“Hey weirdo.” You catch up to Jamie.

“Hey dipshit.” She answers, putting her phone back in her pocket. “Did you do the chemistry homework? Can I copy?”

Oh, if you had a dollar for that too.

School goes on like it always does, and you can’t help but think that it really doesn’t matter that you have superpowers and a not-so-average intelligence. School is still school for everyone. Kids have pretty much the same problems, questions and indecisions. And you’re just another one in that sea of moody teenagers going from one class to the other.

It's great that you have a girlfriend now. And even if that still doesn’t feel like a normal thing in your life, you two have fallen into a routine very quickly. You see each other when you arrive at school, have a few classes together, have lunch with Jamie in the same table you’ve always seated on, and when the school is over you two steal some moments alone, before either of you have to go home. Today it’s no different.

You don’t go to L Corp. You have lots of homework and reading to do, and you also don’t have any idea for an invention, which is, surprise surprise, also very common for you. Jamie thinks you’re always flooding with ideas and that couldn’t be further from the truth. On your ordinary days, you work very hard and things still don’t go anywhere. So, you just go home and do your boring school activities.

“Hey, whatcha working on?” Kara asks, opening your bedroom door, hours after you sat down, and you look up from your books.

“Homework.” You take off your glasses feeling your vision blurry on the sides. Kara walks in and kisses the top of head.

“Why don’t you take a break, huh?” She asks, like she can see it on your face you’ve been here long enough, and you’re tired already. “Look what I've got you.” Kara gives you a donut and you smile at her.

“You know me so well.” You take it from her hands and eat fast. “Thanks, momma.”

“Come help us with dinner.” She asks and you look at your books deciding you’ve studied enough. You follow her to the kitchen where Lena is already cooking. “Look who I found nose buried in her books.”

“Oh, it’s our little nerd.” Lena chuckles and she kisses your temple when you’re close enough. “Did you clean your bedroom?”

“Mmm…” You haven’t, but you don’t want to tell her that. But then again, Kara was just inside your room, so you can’t exactly lie. You look at Kara for support and she shakes her head agreeing, like she’s giving you permission to say yes. “Mhm, yeah.”

“Ok.” Lena puts your hair behind your ear and smiles softly. “You can clean up after you help us with dinner.”

You huff while pouting, making both of them giggle at you.

“How did you know I was lying?”

“Oh, that part was actually really simple, because you see… I’m not an idiot.” She winks at you and you agree with your head. “Now, why don’t you help me?” Lena points at the top shelf. “Can you grab that bowl for me?”

“Why? You can’t reach it?” You joke, making Kara wheeze a laughter behind you, and it takes her a whole minute to recover from that. Even with Lena looking at her like she is going to commit murder if she doesn't stop.

“Don’t sass me.” It’s Lena’s response and you fly a little off the ground to grab what she asked for.

So, you all finish making dinner, and eating it, while talking about your days. And that includes Lena’s boring meetings with people who know way less than she knows, but still try to convince her that she’s wrong. Includes Kara’s interviewing various uninteresting people to the unexciting news piece that she’s writing. And your tedious classes, and uncreative ideas. The day is so dull, there wasn’t even any Supergirl emergency.

When dinner is done, and the kitchen is clean, they make their way to the couch, and you clean your bedroom using your super speed, so you can join them right after. The three of you just watch TV, and laugh, and exist.

If you’re being honest, you would trade all the kidnappings, assassination attempts, saving National City emergencies, to these dull days, easily. Because just existing next to them it’s so freaking good, you don’t need anything else.

Notes:

Thank you to my sister (not irl) @supercorpdaughter for this prompt :)

[roswellnmsource]

Lily Cowles Talks Stunt Work on Roswell, New Mexico & the Action-Packed Final Episodes This Season

So, finding out that there's been another alien Roswell really threw the audience for a loop. What were you thinking when you heard that there would be another alien in town?

I mean, I was like, finally. I'm ready for a little new alien blood in the mix, like let's stir it up. We've had our little pod squad, and we have this super tight little dynamic, and it's been pretty insular. They've had to keep everything to themselves, and so I think finding out that there's another person that's like them, another alien. How exciting.

What are the implications? This might change everything. I was really excited about it. I'm like, let's go, plus he's super cute, so.

That's very true. Can you preview what's next for Isobel and everyone as they process this new development?

Yeah, well, I think Isobel is...I think her initial reaction she's excited to bring someone new into the fold. And it's a little more complicated than that. We have a conversation you see with Isobel and Kyle, where he sort of is like, you might want to take this a little slow because this is a man of God.

This is a man whose vocation is faith-based. And to tell him that he's an alien might kind of complicate his life.

So, how much do you really want to ruin someone's life by telling them that they're an alien or change it for the better but I think Isobel is looking forward to kind of bringing someone newer to the fold and wants to share everything and learn from him.

And she's pretty enthusiastic about it. And it's going to have to learn how to handle that with grace and tack, which I think can sometimes be difficult for her. I know she can sometimes be quite straightforward with things.

Beyond that, Isobel is going on a date in this episode, which is so exciting for her. And I think she's going to be faced with having to break down some of the walls that she's built up that she's been working on. So, I'm kind of like personal internal conflict, but also a lot of opportunity.

And I think our writers handle it all so well, and it's going to unfold in a very fun way.

Sure. So, family is very important to not only the fabric of Roswell but to Isobel in particular. Can you tell us a bit about what family means to Isobel?

Yeah. I mean, I think Isobel has always had to lean so much on her brothers. There may have been the small amount of codependency. You might say with the trio because they have this enormous secret, they can't share with anybody else.

I mean, me personally, I have so many friends. I like to go around and talk about all my problems and everything with all my friends, but Isobel doesn't have as many people, or she didn't up until recently that she could talk about these things with, so her family was sort of everything for her.

These two people who understood who she was and saw her for who she truly was.

For the rest of the world, she had to, for many years of her life, kind of wear this mask and do a kind of performance of something that was sort of half-truth. Now, her circle has expanded a bit over the seasons of Roswell, which has been great—adding friends like Maria and Rosa and Kyle, Alex, and of course, Liz.

We've gotten all this new group of people that can support her. But I think the first 25 years of her life were basically just her and her brothers. And so, that loyalty goes really deep, and I think it will always be the trump card for her. I think it will always take precedent over everything else, which can be good, and it can be bad.

Yeah. And that kind of leads me into my next question, which is that Isobel has some of the best dynamics on the show. From Isobel and Michael and their brother, sister bond. And obviously Isobel and Max and this new bond now with Maria. What's your favorite Isobel dynamic?

It's hard to pick one because I love them all so much. I love working with Amber. I love the Isobel and Rosa dynamic so much because it's...there's so many layers in there. There's definitely the 'Oops. I'm sorry that I murdered you with your friends'.

But then also, Isobel kind of guiding her in Rosa's journey learning about her powers, and I think Isobel really took her under her wing. And I think that means a lot to Isobel to be able to be a guide for someone and somebody's mentor. But as time has gone on, the tables have also been turning.

There are lots of times when Rosa has been a mentor to Isobel.

And I love the female dynamics, that is... it's so rich. There's so much in there. Two women who are learning from each other and growing and supportive of each other, and challenging each other to be better. And it comes from this really complicated history that they were able to overcome.

So, to me, that sort of female dynamic is just like, oh, I love to see that.

I love Isobel and Kyle together too. It's really fun. Isobel knows how to shoot. She comes in just with so much energy. And I think there's something that happens. There's some kind of chemistry there, right? There's something, and it all maybe started at Planet Seven.

But, I think Kyle is someone that Isobel really trusts and leans on, and he's like this solid foundation for her, like a real confidant. But then there's more to it than that.

And there's something that's just, it's hard to put your finger on with them, but whenever I'm working with Michael Trevino, the scenes just...we find these little places that things just kind of pop and these unexpected moments come up and it feels like a really complex dynamic.

And I'm excited to see where that goes.

For sure. I got to talk to Michael, and he said very similarly that you guys had a really great dynamic, and he'd like to see more Kyle and Isobel scenes.

You know, give the world what they want! How bout it, Roswell!

Yes! So, Isobel has gone on quite the journey throughout the course of Roswell, and throughout season three as well, we've seen as she's dealt with Jones. So, can you speak to Isobel's resilience and how we will continue to see her growth?

Yeah, absolutely. Playing Isobel has been such an honor because it's a story that I think is so powerful for so many women. She began as this kind of Barbie doll. She was very performative, had this perfect little mask on. She was kind of closed off to the world but had this way of acting that seemed right.

And I think that's the dynamic that a lot of women can relate to.

It's like wanting to come off as being sort of perfect and having this veneer that seems like everything is good, but you're really disconnected from this deep, authentic truth that might be a lot more complicated and maybe messier, but you know what Isobel had to go through in Season One with Noah, it just rips that all off.

I mean, it wasn't by choice.

It happened to her. She was definitely victimized by the thing, and she had basically no other choice but to grow and adapt. And it gave her an enormous amount of freedom. And so often, suffering is terrible, you wouldn't wish it on anyone, and yet it can also lead to enormous amounts of growth.

And that's what I got to see with Isobel that she had to pick herself back up and connect with those deep parts of herself that she'd kind of been denying her whole life. And become strong. You have to find that strength within herself and not just leaning on the men around her.

She didn't have any female friends, and she was pretty co-dependent with all the men in her life. And Season Two, we saw Isobel discovering herself on her own terms.

And I think it's such an incredible gift that the writers gave to this show to see a female doing that, to find her way on her own terms and sort of have to relearn everything and say, "Well, who am I? What do I want? And how do I get that?"

And now we're just seeing her continuing down that path, she's becoming this warrior, she's becoming this total badass, and I think there's never like an end to it.

It's not like she started out like this, and now it's like the end of the story, 'Hooray! She found herself, and now she's like a badass warrior.' It's in Season Three, I think we're seeing her struggling with what does it mean to be a warrior? What does it mean to try to be a strong female?

How much are we suddenly becoming too self-protective when we begin to build this armor where we're making sure that no one's going to hurt us again? Well, is that armor preventing us from also being vulnerable with other people?

And I think the writers have been so gracious to give this arc to a female character that's been so multifaceted.

So, I'm just so grateful. I can't wait to see where Isobel goes, and she just keeps evolving and changing and shedding her skin and becoming something new, and like I said, it's never like a destination; it's all about the journey. So that's been really fun as an actor to be able to play with.

I have to ask about the stunts in episode eight because the scenes between you and Nathan were fantastic. How was it to shoot those scenes?

Oh my God, it was so much fun. Season Two, I had told Carina, our showrunner at the time, girl put me in some action stuff because I had some martial arts background. And after everything that had happened to Isobel, I was like it'd be great for her to become more empowered in her own physical body too.

So that, we started to kind of build the foundation there, and we're seeing it now paying off, all of this training that Isobel is always talking about. We're finally seeing her in action.

In that episode, in 3x08, directed by Benjamin Bray Hernandez, it was so incredible to actually be able to do this stunt work and with Nathan, who's a great, great stunt guy too.

I mean, I swear in another life, he would like to be a stuntman, Nathan. But the two of us actually got to do most of our own stuff.

I mean all of the pool cue, all of the hand to hand. There were a couple of things that a stunt person came in when we did the backflip over the table. We're like, yeah, that's not to break your neck during that. But besides that, everything was us, and it was so much fun to work with a director who was himself a stuntman.

So, he knew how to really direct.

Every strike needs to be telling a story and the way that he filmed it on the actual film, the lens that he was using. All of this stuff was just, it was like a masterclass in stunt work. So much fun, I was so sore, and while I thought that we were using pool cues, I was like, "I'm sorry, I have never used a pool cue in a fight."

And of course we got on the set, and Nathan from Texas, is there whipping it all around in his hand, spinning the pool cue, homie has been in like 15 pool bar fights, and I'm like, "How do you hold it?"

But I think we're a pretty good match-up, and there's more to come between Nathan and I. I'm so grateful. He's an incredible partner to work with. I feel so safe with him. I did one time jab him with the butt of my pool cue pretty hard in the groin.

So, sorry for that, Nathan. But besides that, it was such a fun experience, and I'd love to do more of that.

That's amazing. Outside of Isobel's storyline this season, has there been another story that you've really enjoyed that's played out in Season Three?

I mean, all of it is so compelling.

I've loved seeing, in this last episode, we saw Alex taking on so many of the demons that I think this beautiful parallel storyline of Alex and Michael, both working through the traumas of their parents, what they've inherited from their parents. Michael learning that he is the son of this evil dictator, but his mother is maybe this amazing hero.

And Alex working through the trauma of what his father was.

And I think that a compelling, compelling story is what we inherit from our parents and what we choose to move forward with or what we want to rebel against.

Do we become our parents, or are we given the opportunity to change them, fix their mistakes? And Kyle is dealing with this too with his father and the Valenti code and all of that.

So, I love that the lineage, the kind of questioning of how lineage proceeds through us and what our obligation is to the family line, I think that's beautiful.

And last question for me, with the finale on the horizon, what can the audience expect from these last batches of episodes?

Oh my gosh. Stuff gets so crazy, Whitney! It pops off. I mean, filming it was some of the most intense work I've ever done. We were like Marines. We were like Navy seals. We bonded so hard over just the sheer physical, emotional, and psychological difficulty that we all have to go through over these next few episodes.

It's full of action. It is full of suspense. It's going to be such a roller coaster for the audience, and I cannot wait for them to see it. It's going to be a huge payoff. Our writers did an incredible job, and yeah, I think it's just going to knock people's socks off.

[thefanficmonster]

Hy, Vy! 📚🌻 Here!

I read that you're having a busy week so I just came here to give you some reminders: Get up for a bit, drink water. Relax for a bit: let your shoulders drop, unclench your jaw and hands, take a deep breath. Better? Hope you are taking care of yourself.

Your three words of today are: Scratch, Silk, snarl.

Take all the time you need and hope you have a good week!

Love, 📚🌻

Hi 📚🌻!

So nice to be hearing from you again! My busy week has finally been put to a pause worries-wise so I can relax and write A TON of fics for you guys so I can make up for being absent for so long 😌 I missed writing honestly and, not gonna lie, your three word challenges bring me so much joy, I'm not even kidding. So thank you for sending me another, in return I send you a short fluffy fic with the pairing I keep using because I'm obsessed 😅 along with all my love, hugs, kisses and support. They're all addressed to you 💌💌💌

Worthy

Pairing: Chris Redfield x OC - Gwen Winters (y’all already know her by now 😅)

No warnings, just pure fluff, Enjoy! 🥰

“Wow, don’t you look presentable.“ 

Now, while the comment is not at all false and is completely fair and true, he shouldn’t have said anything at all. Not when the younger girl was glaring at him before he even opened his mouth.

She can’t be having it easy: baby food in her hair, a questionable stain on her shirt, some dark spots along her arms and what looks to be paint on her forehead and cheeks. Oh and hands too.

“And you look unwanted.” She snarls, “The Devil sent you to prevent me from catching a break today, didn’t he?“ She made her glare even deadlier which he didn’t think was possible. He should know better than to underestimate her like that, Gwen Winters always has a way of surprising him after all. “Well, go back and tell him I wasn’t planning on catching a break either way so you aren’t needed“

Chris rolls his eyes, “For the last time, please stop making me sound like your worst nightmare took a human form.” He scoffs, reaching out to remove a crumb from her shirt, “In fact, I’m here to help.”

“Ethan and Mia sent you then. They don’t believe I have it handled, do they?“ She sighs, walking inside the surprisingly quiet Winters home.

Her Captain, taking that action of hers as a good sign, follows her inside, closing the front door behind him. “No, they don’t know I’m here actually. I called to check up on them and they said they were on a date so I immediately knew who got stuck with the babysitting duty and thought you’d need help.” He gives her a quick once-over, grimacing slightly at the sight she is, “And it seems like you really could use and extra pair of hands.”

“Well....when you put it like that I wish you showed up an hour ago. That’s when this happened.“ She motions to herself. “Christ, I need a change of clothes...and a shower.“ A sigh leaves her lips as her arms drop by her sides.

“And a bandage.“ He murmurs when his gaze suddenly lands on a particularly bad looking scratch on Gwen’s arm. “What happened to you?“

Her eyes follow his to where a red line has marked her skin. She lets out a laugh, “Believe it or not, Rose’s got one hell of a grip. God knows I’d be covered in bite marks if she had teeth.” The look of shock and concern that flashes across the older man’s face makes her laugh, “Hey, don’t worry, the shower will be quick and she’s a pretty heavy sleeper so you won’t have to deal with her on your own.”

He nods hesitantly, muttering a quick ‘Right’ before the girl disappears down the hallway in the direction of the staircase with the intention of grabbing herself some clean clothes she knows won’t remain clean for very long after her sister wakes up. Maybe they’re not blood related, but Gwen still refers to Rose as her sister. Not rare are the times she’s accidentally referred to Ethan as dad or to Mia as mom when talking about them with some of her friends at the BSAA, hell even when talking with Chris. She doesn’t even appear to notice when she says it, but he does, and a smile always briefly graces his features when she does.

As he’s surfing through the TV channels, less than ten minutes after he heard the shower turn on, the baby monitor comes to life with the displeased whines of a child that’s awoken from its slumber.  Chris Redfield, previously a BSAA soldier and now a captain, one who has faced thousands of horrors in his life, each more threatening than the last, is now frozen in place.

One thing this man hasn’t had much experience with is dealing with individuals below their teenage years. Sure, he held Rose when she was still a newborn but even that lasted less than five minutes cause he was so terrified of dropping her or her starting to cry. And now he has to go tend whatever need she has without knowing what they are or how to tend to them.

Wonderful.

Seeing as how the whines are rather quiet and haven’t turned into wails just yet he feels a bit bolder about the whole ordeal, getting up from the couch and making his way towards the stairs, passing by the bathroom where he hears Gwen singing ‘Lovefool’ like she’s the only person in the house.

“Don’t worry, Rose, I’d be crying too if I were awoken by that.“ He murmurs, stomping up the steps.

Entering the nursery, he’s pleasantly surprised to see Rose has stopped complaining and is just looking up at him, intrigued by the presence of this man she doesn’t recognize. Chris scoffs, deciding to drop the subject but right as he steps one foot out the door, the crying begins.

‘No way‘, he thinks to himself, slowly inching back into the room just for the cries to be put to a halt again. ‘You gotta be kidding me.’

“Listen kid, I’m not in any way, shape or for fit for this. Just hold on, your sister will be out in a minute, ok?“ His mouth is saying one thing but his mind is on a completely different level of following instincts - the fatherly instincts he never even thought he had. And while getting his soul stared into by this baby, he can’t help but give into those instincts, “Alright, but you better give me a good review if your sister asks. She can be really high strung sometimes, though I bet you already knew that, having to live with her and all.“ He murmurs as he lifts the now giggling Rose out of her crib, gently cradling her to his chest. To his relief, she stays quiet, relaxing in his embrace. “You’re much less of a handful than Gwen.” He chuckles softly, not wanting to disrupt the quiet too much in hopes it would lead to Rose falling back asleep soon. “I mean, I complain a lot about her and her attitude, but I’d do anything for her, if I’m being honest. She doesn’t know, of course, I haven’t told her. Not that she’d believe me if I did. She’s gotta be the most stubborn yet selfless, most sarcastic yet loving person I’ve ever met. She saves her good qualities for people who deserve to see em, I’m not surprised I’m not one of them. I’ve done nothing but give her a hard time since we met, but can you really blame? She was death-glaring me before we even exchanged names, for goodness’ sake. I probably shouldn’t bother a less than a year old baby with my problems but I have no other listener...” Looking down, he realizes Rose has fallen asleep. He huffs lightheartedly, a smile on his face, “Guess I didn’t have you either, huh?”

“You had me.“ He stiffens his muscles, startled by the foreign whisper that fills the room.

Slowly turning around, he finds Gwen leaning against the doorframe her small figure wrapped in a towel, arms crossed over her chest, her smirking face framed by a curtain of wet hair. She looks smug, too smug, insinuating she’s heard a good portion of his speech if not its entirety. 

“Don’t I at least get an applause?“ He rolls his eyes, hoping the blush isn’t as visible as he feels it to be. 

“You really think you deserve one with the amount of cheesiness you just spewed, not to mention gossiping about me to my own sister.“ She shakes her head with faux disappointment, her voice smooth like silk.

“Ok do I at least get a response then?“ He needs to know, there’s no way he can leave this house or even this room without getting an answer, no matter how disappointed he might be by it. Better a brutal answer than blind ignorance.

She purses her lips, her eyes leaving his and landing on the sleeping baby he almost forgot he was holding. She takes a few steps towards him, reaching out and taking gentle hold of Rose, her movements so light and careful the baby doesn’t even detect she’s being moved. Gwen lays her sister down in her crib even more carefully straightening up and placing her hands on the railing, smiling down at the sleeping toddler.

Chris stands there restless, his gaze analyzing and overanalyzing each and every shift of her facial expression, the tiniest changes in her body stance and body language. He’s never seen her so at peace and so relaxed, out of her usual surroundings and gear. The rough lines of her face softened by the sisterly love she’s displaying, watching over the sleeping Rose. There’s so much grace and beauty within her and it never fails to shine through. Not in the battlefield, not when faced with literal death, not even when she’s holding a weapon twice her size, making her look terrifying for the enemy.

He said he wasn’t surprised to be excluded from the tight circle of people she has - those who see her at her best - and he really isn’t. He doesn’t deserve her kindness, her softness, her smiles and laughter. He doesn’t deserve her. He’s not worth of a membership

Or that’s what he thinks, at least.

Gwen suddenly turns to him, the smile still present on her face as she gazes up at him, her head tilted back so she can look him in the eyes which is proving pretty difficult considering their proximity and height difference. Leaning back on the crib railing she sighs, “You’re right, a response would be adequate. But what kind would you like?”

He scoffs, his muscles tensing even more despite the smile on his face, “The most honest one you can offer me.”

She hums approvingly, nodding as though she’s contemplating her next move. He’s on the verge of telling her to forget it, let it all fall in the water and hope she forgets about it soon. He can deal with a few sleepless nights but that ultimate rejection, he knows it’ll sting a lot and for a long time.

However, just as he’s about to cross over the verge and open his big mouth he’s physically prevented from doing so by the pair of lips that have collided with his. Her lips. She’s kissing him.

‘Holy crap, what is happening?‘ It’s safe to say his mind’s racing which is mainly why it takes him a second or two to respond but when he comes to, he’s kissing her back with passion and longing, as though they’ve shared this kiss before. His arms automatically wrap around her waist, pulling her closer, while hers find themselves wrapped around his neck, her fingers gently tangling in his hair.

To say he’s disappointed when she pulls away would be an understatement but seeing as how she’s not in a rush to free herself from his grasp, he doesn’t complain. Instead, he allows her to rest her forehead against hers. He closes his eyes, their proximity intoxicating his mind, the scent of her freshly washed hair and skin making his thoughts hazy.

“Next time you wanna tell me something...“ Gwen whispers breathlessly, “...my sister is not the one you should turn to first.“

Chris chuckles, reattaching their lips in relief and ecstasy. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt quite like this: so high yet so grounded, so intoxicated yet sober. She gives him polar opposite experiences at once and it’s simply magical.

He may not be worthy of a membership in her inner circle, but he’s damn lucky she likes him as much as she does.

[vidalinav]

Sister’s Day

Summary: Sometimes when you’re sick, you’re not actually sick; or Nesta doesn’t want to go out with the Inner Circle and instead of being left on her own Feyre, Elain, and Cassian opt to stay with her...

Read on AO3 and fanfic; General Masterlist 

~

Her sisters keep looking at her. She can see their not-so-subtle glances as they casually reach for the shelf next to her or explain that they need to grab a book somewhere behind. The light is dim, you’ll hurt your eyes if you read in the dark. It’s been a few hours, try a snack.

They’re ruminating, she decides as Feyre stares deeply at where she sits on the armchair and minds her own business. Yet there comes Elain with a plate full of cookies and the gaggle of the rest of them entering the large foyer.

Feyre does this on purpose, she thinks, making the estate’s library in the center of the living room. Perhaps, Feyre knows that if she wants her older sister out in public, she must entice her with solitude.

Truthfully, they’ve been this way since her and Cassian’s inevitable return.

She supposes it’s her own fault, for giving them the cold shoulder, for being oddly quiet about her life in Illyria. Cassian doesn’t tell them anything, which doesn’t help, and Nesta likes watching them squirm enough that she simply stares ahead, a curious gleam in her eyes as they ask her a question she will not respond to. All of them try to ask, even Amren who outright questions whether she’s back to her old self.

Nesta scoffs, old self. She has not changed. All she’s learned is to hide herself better or reap the consequences.

But something must be different about her, because Feyre and Elain will not leave her alone.

She sighs, pursing her lips as the bedraggled gang set themselves into the chairs nearest her. Cassian taking up the whole loveseat, Mor hiking herself onto the desk as Azriel goes to the window, his shadows following. Amren sets herself up on the coffee table, puzzles already strewn about in pieces and Rhysand… he goes to Feyre as he always does. Nesta resists rolling her eyes as they do that thing they often do where they talk into each other’s minds. Do they actually think they’re being inconspicuous?

Cassian looks to her casually, but she does not meet his gaze, opting for sinking further into her seat and hiking her book up to her knees.

“Well, I think we should celebrate your return with a night out at Rita’s,” Mor offers brightly.

“That seems more like a celebration for you,” Azriel admits, his tone light even in the deep, sardonic notes.

“Maybe it is. I quite frankly am glad your back,” She points to Azriel and Amren, “these two were no fun while you were away. And those two—” Mor points to Feyre and Rhys who both turn at the same time, “well, they were the same.”

Cassian laughs, and Nesta sinks further in her chair as they talk around her. Talk as if she’s not there as if she doesn’t really exist. Just another book on the shelf, another window to peer out of. As nameless as one of the puzzle pieces that bedeck mahogany lines.

“You are coming with right? No excuses this time?” Mor asks, her eyes pleading. The sound makes Nesta want to cover her ears, and she has to clench the pages of her book to keep from sighing out right.

Cassian shrugs, his lips upturned and Nesta thinks he just... fits somehow. In the way that Nesta can’t.

And why wouldn’t he when this is his family?

She has her books, her grimaces, her words, but she doesn’t have… that. These are not her friends, and her sisters only sort of like her. Obligation at the very least, pity at the best of times. Nesta squeezes the hard cover until she feels the bindings start to tear.

What is with their fascination with Rita’s and going out?

But Elain tugs on her sister’s sleeve, and Nesta blinks up at her slowly, lost as much in the words of her feelings as the sentences in the book. Her spine goes straight without her knowledge, her chin lifting until she peers into warm brown and Elain swallows.

Nesta feels guilty for the look.

“You haven’t been out with us in some time…” She starts, “I’ve missed you.”

It wasn’t my fault, she wants to say, but the strangers in the room are staring at her. She can feel their eyes move like a match of wits and daffodils. Which one will win—the lovely fawn or the wily serpent that bites before she’s fed?

Feyre interjects, “Come to Rita’s with us!”

She claps once as if it is a fantastic idea, and Cassian tilts his head perhaps knowing better after all these months. His eyes glaze over hers, and she can read that look. Nesta turns away in answer.

She hopes the chair will engulf her as she sits back, her book open and waiting for her to join back into the world that she can’t not belong to. Even Amren waits for a nod of her head, and Nesta is tired of them. Go away, she wants to yell. Leave me alone!

“I doubt you’ll run into any of those males you slept with,” Amren sniffs, because she’s never really forgiven her for that argument on the sidra.

She can feel the static as the room dulls into a harsh hum and the others go oddly quiet. Stiff and straight, Feyre whips to the tiny ancient one. “Quiet,” she demands.

My, my, what a loving family you have, Nesta thinks. But she doesn’t back away from the challenge, not when they seem to agree with their sweet, dear friend.

“If I don’t,” she smiles, her eyes burning, “I’m sure I can find one before the night is over.”

Wrong answer, because Elain jumps and hugs her side, her cheek squishing into the chiffon. Nesta stiffens at the affection. “Oh! We’ll have such a good time. Won’t we Feyre?”

Her youngest sister nods but doesn’t look convinced. Still, Feyre smiles strangely at her and Nesta sighs, a headache forming behind her eyelids at her seemingly professed agreement. Elain noticing that Nesta’s tea has gone cold, goes to refill her cup, and before she can say she doesn’t need another cup, Elain is gone. Leaving her to a pack of wolves.

Nesta lifts the book to her face, ignoring the not-so-subtle glances her way, and begins reading once more.

He grabbed the sides of her face, his palms warm against her skin. He trailed his hands down her neck until they stopped at the ties of her bodice. She could see the blush already blooming at her breasts…

Cassian coughs. She looks up to see him smirking. That teasing grin that usually makes her hands clench and her temper flare red with blood.

Nesta quickly looks back down.

Her blush already blooming down her neck.

~

“It would be good for you to get out girl, show your face around here. Mother knows the city must have forgotten what you looked like.

Then maybe you all shouldn’t have sent me away; she thinks as she looks at herself in her midnight blue gown. The fabric shimmers as she moves, and stars seem to be imprinted where the fabric drips and drums. It is the most… scandalous dress Nesta’s ever worn.

It isn’t her own, and she’s surprised she even fits in one of Feyre’s dresses. Though she’s gained weight, it is not nearly enough to fill out her previous figure and she’s always been smaller than her little sister… except at the bust, where Nesta feels she’ll spill out if she trips even slightly.

Elain remarks that she looks beautiful as Nesta stares into the large mirror on the living room wall, but all she thinks is liar. Liar. Liar. Oh great pretender, you can’t pretend well enough.

Mor sweeps down the stairs with Feyre, her revealing dress a putrid red that looks so bright it hurts her eyes. Feyre is dressed in no more than cobwebs, but Nesta shakes the feeling away that women must be protected in fabric, because lace is armor and men are beasts out to prowl.

The Illyrians understand this as traditional as they are. The females are always dressed in sleeves and gowns to the ankle, but furs also adorn their skin… Because the furs are harvested by them, she remembers. Cut by them, woven by them as if to remind the males that they wear animal pelts because they are ferocious themselves. Regardless of whether they captured the beasts that stomp in the woods.

Starve then, she heard one female say. Starve then, to that husband who refused her. What were men in a world where women supported the living?

But this is a power, too, Nesta learns. These gowns, the skin that is bright and burning, the legs that go on for miles. Just like sex. Just like money… Choice and freedom hidden where skin is revealed and skirts part softly.

Oh, great pretender, pretend just a little longer.

Feyre pauses in front of Nesta, looking her over with a pleased expression and Nesta wants to claw that image off her face, but Elain sets her hands on Nesta’s shoulders, her own gown pink and pretty and light. The embodiment of spring in Nesta’s endless winter.

I am not myself tonight, she wants to yell. Who am I?

“I knew that dress would look good on you.” Feyre smiles, “I know it’s not what you usually wear, but I’m glad to see you in it.”

Nesta smiles, gritting her teeth.

“Are you all going to just stand there or are we actually leaving sometime soon?” Amren asks, leaning at the edge of the doorway.

Mor and Feyre give each other knowing glances, and Elain grins sweetly as they all walk ahead of her out onto the porch where the males are waiting, laughing, and huffing that they took forever to get ready. “Not all of us can just roll out of bed and throw on a clean shirt.”

“Rhys took longer than any of us combined. Be honest.”

Nesta swallows the apprehension as she steps out to the porch and immediately she wishes she had a jacket. She refuses to go back in and get one, because she knows if she goes back in she will not come back out.

But Cassian, takes off his own jacket, the fabric warm and soft, and sets it around her shoulders before she can say one word. The others pretend not to look, but they look… the curious, cautious stare that alight in questions that neither Nesta nor Cassian will answer.

Mor taps her heeled foot and crosses her arms. “We ready to go?” She asks, raising a brow.

Cassian gestures forward and they all move as a herd through Velaris nights.

Nesta marks every landmark she passes as if she is leaving behind a clue as to how to get back. She can hear the others laughing and joking, but she doesn’t comprehend any of the words. She looks to the cosmos. The sky swirls with purples, blues, and milky white and Nesta… feels small.

A dot on a map. A fleck of dust in the air. She grasps the edge of Cassian’s jacket, pulling it closer to herself and it smells like him. Pine and wood burning.

“I wish all nights were like this,” Feyre says breathlessly, looking to the stars.

“They are,” Rhysand jests. Feyre elbows him in the stomach, and Rhys jumps away, only to reel back in. A tether connecting the two.

“That’s not what I meant, smartass. I mean that it feels nice we’re all together again.”

At the words, Nesta stops. Her feet pause and the others keep going. She watches them go and go and go and her eyes start to burn. Her fists clenching, her teeth gritting, her eyes blinking over again.

And yet, they walk. They don’t even notice her gone…

She’s a tiny fleck of dust.

Nesta turns back towards the estate, sniffling as she quickly wipes her eyes. Angry that she is crying without a reason to cry.

The dress is suffocating, and her hair is tight around her head. Her eyes burn but not her heart, not her soul. It seems that the wind has snuffed the flame out and only whispers are left.

Pretend no longer, it says.

It’s Elain that rushes after her after the storm has settled. She pulls her by the shoulder and stops as she sees her face, probably red and blotchy. The others are miles away, but at least Elain is here…

“Go,” Nesta commands softly, for she can never be truly mean to her sister.

“Nesta—” She starts, moving her hand from her shoulder down her arm.

“I don’t feel very good.” She replies and Nesta looks to her sister. At the warm brown that looks comforting…understanding, and she wonders if Elain would ever truly understand the back and forth like waves coming and going in Nesta’s head. That make her feel as if she’s downing. Alone. Unafraid, perhaps accepting that this is her life. But always drowning. “Please just go.” She repeats, and at last gives her a small smile for reassurance. “I have a headache that’s all.”

As an afterthought, Nesta takes off the coat, crossing her arms as the cold seeps into her skin. “Give this to Cassian for me?”

Elain nods as concern is written all over her face, but she heeds her older sister’s instructions. And with one more glance behind, Nesta joins the darkness and Elain joins her group of friends.

~ “Where’s Nesta going?” Feyre asks loudly, panic in her voice without realizing that she is nearly breathless.

Cassian takes a step closer to her. Practically his own younger sister who’s in need of comfort, but… there’s someone else who needs comfort. He can feel it. He can see it as Elain comes back with his jacket in her hands.

Elain doesn’t look at them as she answers, settling for staring out into the sidra where the colorful faelights reflect across the water. “She says she doesn’t feel good so she’s going home.”

Cassian watches as she hands him his jacket, still warm from her skin and Elain looks defeated. All of a sudden tired and far away. “She told me to give this back to you,”

He grips the leather in his hand until he can count all of the folds that form in its fabric. Twelve.

Twelve folds. Twelve minutes she’s been gone.

He swallows down the worry, the fear that makes him want to rip the jacket apart, and the plain…sorrow that starts blooming like moonflowers decorating the sidewalk.

“Maybe I should try—” Feyre starts, but Elain shakes her head solemnly.

“She says she has a headache.”

The sisters look at each other as if the statement puts an end to their trying. Mor lays an arm around the girls and sighs, speaking softly—comforting. “Come on you two,” She frowns slightly, “Nothing a night of dancing can’t solve.”

“And a huge bottle of liquor,” Amren adds, “Maybe two.” Though she is equally reserved, as if the night has suddenly gotten darker and they can longer see as many stars.

Cassian wants her to see this. He wants Nesta to know this.

When she is missing, they miss her. Her sisters miss her. Amren misses her. He doesn’t want to leave without her, and… Cassian for the first time, since being back, understands. Because when she is missing, he suddenly feels very alone.

He closes his eyes, his wings rising to catch the breeze, and when he blinks awake his friends surround him. Azriel giving him a look that’s almost apologetic for the stoic shadowsinger. He can hear their laughter begin again, the lights getting brighter with every step, and Rhysand cracks a joke that Amren groans at, but makes Feyre laugh.

They are alive.

He is not back in the war. Not in Illyria. Not in any nightmare. But he’s alone… because she’s alone, and he can’t leave her. He can’t.

“Come on, Cassian, keep up!” Mor calls after him, but Cassian steps back, looking behind, practically seeing Nesta’s figure in the shadows.

“Nesta’s sick,” he responds matter-of-factly and the rest stop in front of him, a few feet ahead. Mor’s brows crease, her lips tilting down.  

“You heard them; she has a headache.”

“She’s doesn’t feel good,” Cassian reiterates. “I have to go take care of her.”

“You don’t have to…” Rhys mutters under his breath.

“I want to,” He proclaims, sternly.

Feyre steps forward, her hand dropping from Rhys’s grasp. “Are you sure? Once Nesta gets a headache, it doesn’t go away very fast. She usually doesn’t want to see anyone.”

Cassian huffs a laugh, counting all the bullshit lies that Nesta must have told all these years. Headaches, my ass. She’s probably already back sequestered in some chair with a book in her hand. “You see Feyre, I too am like a headache—”

“By the Mother,” Amren complains.

He can see the look Azriel gives Mor, Mor’s smile straining as she says nothing. Rhys grasps Feyre’s hand as if he can’t stand one moment without touching her, and he leans his head back, sighing as he waits for the implication of a fight in the air.

Cassian won’t give them one. Nothing they can say will convince him to continue on to Rita’s and leave Nesta behind.

But, Elain steps forward, walking towards him.

“I’ll go with you,” She gasps.

Cassian doesn’t know how Nesta will feel about that given her silence towards her sisters, but if Nesta will not go with them, they will go to Nesta.

Elain breathes deeply, her eyes glancing to the midnight blanket set atop them. “It’ll be a sister’s day. Like old times,” she answers softly, laughing as she adds, “Except of course with you, Cassian.”

He can feel more than see Feyre stand straight, her grip tightening on Rhys’s hand. The air turns stale in the wake of their decisions, and he can see all of the doubts already forming in her head. Cassian understands these thoughts, too, for he was once inadequate to the rest of the world.

Yes, that was still a sore spot for them wasn’t it?

But Elain gestures to Feyre, her head tilting towards her baby sister. “Unless you’d rather go to Rita’s...” She adds.  

Feyre’s raises her brows, but the look of shock passes quickly, and she reaches out her hand as Elain extends her own. She gives Rhysand a small, satisfied smile at having been included, before nodding to Elain. Rhys lifts the side of his mouth, but the happiness doesn’t reach his eyes.  

It does not go unnoticed by any of them.

~ Nesta is dressed in pretty silk pajamas, the only pants he’s ever seen her wear. Her hair is loose and golden brown as it falls down her back, a casual, alone type of look. In which, he means that she would not look this casual if she wasn’t alone.

She hangs by the door, her eyes glazing over one, two, three of them in disbelief and something akin to irritation burns in those pale blues. At the look, Cassian wants to kiss her head in fondness, combing her soft hair with his fingers until her face is red with a feeling she’ll play off as stubborn anger.

Cassian sighs inwardly. He misses Illyria.

She crosses her arms. “Why the hell are all of you here?”

Cassian pushes past her, ignoring her question and surveying the living room as if the answer is obvious.  “We’re here to take care of you. Since you’re sick.” He pronounced.

He eyes the bright lamp in the corner, the glow lighting the armchair, where a book lays flat on the seat.  

Tsk. Told you so, he tells himself.

Cassian whirls to face her as Nesta stands next to her sisters, her hands on her hips. That Who do you think you are? look permanently painted on her perfect face. “Have you checked your temperature by the way? Taken any medicine? I’m positive I saw some in the main bathroom down the hall.”

“What?” Nesta demands, shaking her head.

He places his hand on her forehead and she shakes him off, her mouth dipping to a frown. “You must be sick if you can’t follow what I’m saying.”

“You must be a lunatic if you can’t understand I don’t want you here.”

“People who don’t feel good,” He offered slowly, “need to be taken care of.”

“In the murder kind of way?”

“In the ‘Nesta, there’s medicine in the main bathroom’ kind of way,” He answers haughtily. Cassian can feel Elain and Feyre’s eyes on them, the back and forth of their gaze as if their conversation is a battle and they aren’t sure who is winning. If he was a betting male, his bets would probably be on Nesta... but more so because she’d appreciate the gesture and less because he was losing.

She frowns, perhaps concluding that he in no way will back down from this. Nesta should know after all these months that Cassian cares too much for his own good and plus... he quite likes the look Nesta gives him when she gets pissy.

“Okay, but how come there’s three of you?”

Feyre opens her mouth to answer, but Cassian beats her to it.

“Why? Did you miss us? We were only gone for a few moments.”

“That in no way equates to what I just said--”

“We’d be happy to start following you around. We wouldn’t want you missing us too badly.”

Nesta reaches her hands up as if she’d wring his neck. Her eyes point daggers, and Cassian isn’t ashamed to admit shivers run down his spine, but it is certainly not from fear.

“I swear Cassian, if you bother me one more time—”

“You’ll what? Tell me, sweetheart, what you can possibly do that will make me leave when you so graciously left us all out in the cold, wondering where you went?” His eyes widen, waiting for her answer. Cassian cups his ear, tilting his head towards her as he starts to hear the tapping of her foot.

“I didn’t feel good,” She explains, crossing her arms once more.

“And as we’ve established, we’re here to take care of you.”

She gives him a bland look. “Fuck. Off.”

Instead, Cassian turns towards her sisters. Elain and Feyre standing dutifully behind the eldest, most beautiful Archeron. “Your sister’s words warm my heart,” he teases.

“Now Feyre if you could go get the medicine that Madja left,” Cassian orders brightly, “And Elain if you could heat up some water for tea. Nesta prefers peppermint.”

The two nod, but Nesta scoffs, “And, what exactly are you going to do?”

Cassian smiles, his grin wide as Nesta glares. “I’m going to make french toast.”

Feyre looks at him confused, and Elain tilts her head waiting for an explanation, but Nesta… Nesta’s eyes light up in the way that he knows she’s pleased and is trying her best to hide it.

Nesta raises her chin, sniffing at his words, as if they don’t mean too much to her, but he knows. Sweets are Nesta’s favorite food group, and french toast is her favorite food. He’s made it more times than he can count in that little cabin between the mountaintops and nothing can convince him that she’s not secretly rejoicing.

“Fine,” She answers in that dismissive way of hers, moving to her reading corner in a flourish and sitting on the chair as if it’s her throne. She picks up the book, her eyes widening as she reads the first sentence.

Nesta looks back up to him sheepishly... nonchalant and all too familiar.

Cassian smirks, wondering if he perhaps is the luckiest bastard alive.

~

When Nesta’s upset, he learns, she will make up stories.

It makes sense to him since she reads so many books.

Cassian can’t recount exactly when he’d heard her lie the first time, somewhere in between the glaring insults and the wine drunk days. In Illyria, he could count them all from I left my jacket at Emerie’s to it clearly wasn’t me when your wings knock everything off the shelves when you move!

He smiles as he remembers, flipping the bread on the hot griddle. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon reminding him of cold winter days and harsh moonless nights. As much as he misses Illyria, not much has changed since those months in the mountains.

Briefly, Cassian hears the sharp tone of Nesta’s grumpy antics.

“At least take a couple drops,” Feyre demands, aggravated.

“I don’t know what child you’re speaking to but point that spoon somewhere else.”

“Elain!” Feyre calls, as he can hear Nesta huff.

“You can’t just call Elain and expect me to--”

Nesta goes silent, and in a second Cassian can hear the clink of a spoon and the sound of Nesta gagging.

When Feyre speaks, she seems oddly satisfied. “It looks like I didn’t need Elain’s help after all,” she sings, laughter in her voice.

He looks at Elain who surveys the living room. She wears a soft smile and when she looks over to him her eyes are alight with mischief. “I think she’s mad,” Elain mouths.

Cassian can only smile, looking slightly to the living room and imagining her face, her ire.

He wonders, then, what it must have been like growing up as Nesta, being a part of a group of sisters who so obviously care for each other. Never to forget that they love one another. Never to be completely forgotten, and always, always unconditionally loved.

Not for the first time does the guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. He once wonders how anyone could love Nesta... Like a gods-damned idiot, he’d said that to her. Not because he truly believed it, but because it hurt to be denied by her.  

Realistically, Cassian knows that he doesn’t have to worry about it anymore, when they’ve squashed this topic months ago, but still… He feels guilty hearing Feyre’s laughter, seeing Elain’s bright eyes, knowing that he too denies his friends in favor of spending time with her.

He would do it again... In a heartbeat. In one breathless moment.

How does she not see it? He questions. How does she not know how much they care for her? Because he knows. He can see it plain on their faces.

But when Cassian takes the sweet bread off the griddle, and onto a large plate for the four of them, he can tell she doesn’t suspect a thing. She sits with her book on the lone chair, while her sisters gather at the table, and he can almost see the distance between them. As if Nesta has set her book high in front of her nose to make a barrier between her and the rest of the world.

Cassian leans against the table, raising a brow.

“Are you going to sit there all day, or should we eat these ourselves?”

Nesta lowers her shield in favor of the offense, “If you touch mine, I’ll castrate you,”

Cassian shrugs, frowning for a moment contemplating the threat, tilting his head back and forth as if he is actually weighing his odds. She does know where he sleeps.

“Fair enough,” He responds in answer.

They eat until the whole platter is gone, but not before Cassian tries to steal a bite from Nesta’s plate, just to piss her off even more. She raises her fork as if she’ll stab him with it, and Cassian secretly wants her to try. If Nesta will not train with him and grant him the ability to see her skills with a sword, he will assess them elsewhere.

“Are you two always like this?” Feyre asks, abruptly. She looks to Elain as they both turn to her and Feyre looks shocked she’d spoken the words allowed.

Cassian opens his mouth to reply.  

Nesta drops her fork.

The chair shrieks as she gets up from her chair, and she makes her way back to her podium where Cassian thinks she will sit there like a living statue, perfectly safe in her stony façade. He almost feels offended that she dismisses them so quickly.

Sighing under his breath, Cassian begins clearing the plates. Feyre and Elain help, whispering to each other something Cassian chooses not to listen in on, because he’s staring at her. Always her.

By the time, he’s out of the kitchen, blankets and pillows lie in the center of the room, the plush carpet underneath it all.

Elain and Feyre jumble in the kitchen in what smells of chocolate and cinnamon, and Nesta is left to her own devices in this strange, decorative landscape.

She doesn’t really fit in, he notes.

Not because she doesn’t look the part, but because she doesn’t act the part. There’s something odd about her movements, her looks, the way she carries herself. This room is casual… colorful… homely, and Nesta is rigid, straight, and her eyes, the bright grey, reach out to him.

“You’re staying?”

Cassian nods his head, that grin back on his lips. “Yes, I’ve just been informed it’s sister’s day, and as an honorary sister myself, I feel I’m allowed. Do you want me to leave?”

She looks up at him and at her perusal he lifts his wings higher. Primping, he thinks, like a gods damned fool.  

She shrugs one nonchalant shoulder, looking away and back to her book. Almost too casually. Cassian can’t help the giddy feeling that erupts inside of him, that says Nesta wants him here. Nesta wants him to stay. Even if the words never come out of her lips. He has learned to read her beyond spoken language.

But Elain and Feyre come back in the room, and he notices how she tenses up. Her eyes turning molten and hard. Her lips tightening into a subdued scowl she tries to hide behind pages.

It makes his heart ache in ways he doesn’t know how to fully explain.  

~

Nesta knows he’s pretending to sleep. He lays on the couch, his large form draped over the heavy blue, his wings not sparing any of them as she pushes them away where they fall at the top of their heads.

He snores occasionally for good measure. Loudly and offkey. She thinks she’ll tell him that later and let him remark how she’s judgmental even amongst sleeping patterns. Well, Nesta does warn him early on that she wouldn’t be any nicer.

She shifts on the hard floor, bumping her shoulders into her sisters. The heat of them making her want to throw the blankets away. She lies in the middle. Feyre to her left, fiddling with a string on the woven cloth. Elain to her right, scooping her arm into her own, until she cuddles close, tucking her head in. Nesta doesn’t know how they convinced her of this.

At first, she’s too engrossed into her book to notice, lost in seas and a sea captain that is reminiscent to Cassian and his ample physique. But also, by the way his hair is cut at the shoulders and how the wildness exudes from his smile. She will never tell him this of course lest he tease her more than he often does already.

Nesta thinks it must have been her fault, though, because the next thing she knows she’s being pulled to the carpet, being offered hot coco, and they’re all in pajamas. Feyre owns a large enough house, she wants to remark. They don’t have to sleep in the living room, together like they still live in that washed out cabin.

But then they’re asking about her book, and Illyria… and if she made any friends. Poking and prodding and… they look interested enough. So, Nesta tells them. Stubbornly at first, and then in more detail as they ask more questions, answers them until she’s sure she has never talked this much in all of her short life.

All good things must come to an end, though, and they lie complacent and quiet while Nesta looks to the ceiling. She counts every color in the painted swirls. Golds and blues and—Cassian snores.

Nesta lifts her head, ready to smack him with a pillow, but Elain giggles softly.

At the sound, Nesta turns to her sister, but Elain is looking at Feyre, a fond look on her face. Her baby sister smirks slightly, holding her grin tightly in her cheeks.

She gazes at them both, suspicious.

It’s Elain who treads carefully, “Cassian is… awfully sweet.”

Oh, gods.

Nesta sighs, rolling her eyes. His head is only going get bigger.

Feyre shifts to her side, laying her head on her hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like anyone.”

Before Nesta can look appalled and answer back that she’s never said she “liked” Cassian, Elain replies.

“She liked Tomas.”

Nesta doesn’t say a word, but even unconsciously she knows Cassian tenses. He knows all about him, can probably pinpoint exactly when the pin drops. She can feel her fists clench between the fabric. Would it rip like her dress that day, she questions.

Feyre scowls, disapprovingly. “Tomas was a—He was a—”

“Poor excuse for a human,” Nesta says, her voice drawing from her throat like music.

Nesta refuses to say anymore, and her sisters seem to take her sudden silence as a plea to drop the subject.

“Oh,” Elain finishes, but perks back up, “But Cassian is--”

“Nothing like Tomas, thankfully,” She answers forcefully. “And that’s all I’ll say about either of them.”

Nesta sees Feyre give Elain a look. Pitiful Nesta, they probably think. Shutting everyone away, can’t bother to hold a conversation.

She lays on her side, wishing she was on the outskirts of them both so she can turn her back on both of them. But the floor is hard and it hurts her shoulder, and she is forced to turn back and begin her venture with the ceiling anew.

“I’m glad your home,” Feyre whispers after some time, as Elain squeezes her arm in what feels like an agreement.

You wouldn’t be if you hadn’t sent me away, she thinks. But instead of answering, Nesta closes her eyes, and pretends to sleep.

~

“How was my performance? Ten out of ten?”

Elain continues to comb Nesta’s hair as she sleeps. But instead of commenting on his question, she smiles up at him, far more teasing than he’s ever seen her.

"You like her,” She says, not a question at all. Feyre whips towards Elain, giving her a look that seems baffled that she outright says what they’re both thinking. “You get on each other's nerves. You argue incessantly. You have an act for pissing her off that’s rather impressive. But you like her.”

“Is that your seer skills?” Cassian drawls.

“That’s my sister skills,” She answers brightly. Elain shrugs a shoulder, “Well and anyone with eyes can tell.”

“It’s true,” Feyre interjects. “Nesta may deny it, but… something is going on between you two.”

“You are both too nosy for your own good.”

“But then again, I’m not hearing a denial. Am I Elain?”

Elain laughs, shaking her head. “I haven’t heard one yet. It seems he might have really fallen for our big sister. What do you think? Should we allow her hand?”

“I think Nesta has more of a say in that than us. Maybe we should wake her so she can decide? What do you think, summer wedding?”

Cassian huffs, sitting up on the couch and crossing his arms. “You two think you’re really funny.”

“I think your antics make us laugh,” Feyre replies, smiling wide. “Why don’t you just tell her? Assuming you haven’t.” Feyre back tracks, looking to Elain in fear. “You haven’t right? Did she reject you?”

Cassian groans, taking a throw pillow from the couch and throwing it at Feyre. It hits her square in the face. Feyre scoffs, reaching for the pillow, ready to throw it like a javelin, but Elain lifts her hands.

“Stop!” She shushes, checking on Nesta who tosses the blanket in her sleep. The medicine Madja left had left Nesta drowsy and she had quickly fallen asleep after the sister’s kept her talking. Cassian doubts she’ll wake anytime soon.

But Feyre drops the pillow, pointing viciously. “You got lucky.”

Cassian grins victorious. Feyre lifts a brow.

“Why?” She prods, as if the question is her payback. “Why not stop this charade?”

Cassian doesn’t know how to answer. He’s almost afraid Nesta will wake and scold him herself, but she rests peacefully where she’s tucked in tightly once more.

He can’t help the fondness that appears on his face, he can’t help most of what he feels for her. She was a surprise, after all. A happy one. But he wasn’t looking for her, the female of his dreams. He didn’t think she even existed.

But then… Here she is.

She gets under his skin, warms his blood in ways that are both invigorating and infuriating. But Nesta… they understand each other. In ways that no one else could or dared to try. They see each other, accept each other. The ugly in spite of the good. The good in spite of the ugly. Every single part.

So, when Feyre look at him expectedly, Cassian asks himself truly what is he waiting for?

They’ve slept together, though he will not tell them that. He’s sure she’d maim him if he did. They live together… sort of now. Her stuff is still in his house in Windhaven. There’s bookshelves and wallpaper and tiny glasses that Nesta says she likes. And, he is always near her. They spend nearly everyday together, and when he’s not near her, he thinks of when he’s going to see her, what he’s going to say. He enjoys hearing her rant about her stories and he wants to know all of her thoughts. What does she think of Illyria, the conflict, the treaties, but also about the new bakery down the street?

Truly, they’re together. Aren’t they?

But… not really.

It’s different in Illyria. It’s different in Velaris. It’s easier in Windhaven. It’s infinitely harder surrounded by them, when Nesta doesn’t like his family and he’s not all too sure they like her.

“I’m waiting for… the right time.”

Feyre blinks and Elain frowns and Cassian is sure he looks baffled at his own words… Right time? Didn’t he want more of it?

Wasn’t he losing it every time he didn’t make a move?

Huh?

“But aren’t you just wasting time?” Feyre concludes, “Wouldn’t it make more sense to just tell her how you feel and damn the consequences?”

Elain tilts her head, her gaze squinting at him. “Haven’t you waited this long?”

“You sister does have a say in this you know. She could very well take the lead and confess. I certainly wouldn’t stop her.”

Cassian watches as they give each other a bland look, something that calls Cassian an idiot without saying it aloud.

“Nesta reads romance novels,” Feyre offers obviously, as if that is answer enough.

At his confused gaze, sweet Elain rolls her eyes. “Nesta is… hopelessly romantic. Even if she doesn’t seem like it. She always has been since she was young. And she’s very traditional, if you haven’t noticed. Won’t dare to wear pants, not that I do either, but I’ll try new things, new foods. It took Nesta three months to even try a bit of jam on her toast when I first started cooking.”

“It took her three years to stop putting her hair up in those braids. Two seasons for Nesta to go into restaurant down the street, three to go shopping for new clothes that weren’t corsets and long gowns.” Feyre argues. “She needs to be very comfortable to do things that are unfamiliar to her… But she’s comfortable with you.”

“We can tell,” Elain smiles, lifting a shoulder. “She seeks you out when you enter a room, her eyes follow you. She won’t talk to anyone, but she’ll argue with you easily. Even seems to enjoy it. Nesta makes sure that I make blueberry muffins on Monday’s, the same day that you come back early from training… I probably wasn’t supposed to tell you that but here we are.”  

Cassian looks down at Nesta, her nose red and her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Gods, he loves her doesn’t he? And… she loves him?

Negative. Impossible.

But not impossible…

Because she… cares for him? He thinks. Maybe. He’s not certain.

But what he is certain of is her sister’s knowledge of all things pertaining to her.

“You pay a lot of attention to Nesta’s actions.”

Elain looks to Feyre, “Is that surprising? She’s our sister.”

“I just thought… I don’t know.”

“No, what?” Feyre pleads, “That we didn’t care about her. Did Nesta say that?”

Feyre sighs. “She’s never going to forgive me for sending her to Illyria.”

Cassian grimaces, but shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know about that, but she’s—Nesta’s trying her best. Perhaps, it’s not the right time,” he repeats back to them, a smug look on his face.

Feyre does hit him with a pillow this time.

Elain frowns, staring at Nesta’s pale skin. “How do we help her?”

Cassian and Feyre pause their antics, and stare at Elain in her yellow cotton dress.

“I think only Nesta can tell you that. Maybe ask, first?”

“And if she says nothing?”

“Then be there for her and… try again.” He answers, softly. “Nesta reads romance novels, yes, because she’s a romantic at heart, but she also reads because the books are there. They are always there, when she’s alone, when she’s upset, when she needs to escape there’s another world. More characters, more stories to rely on because sometimes this world and the people in it aren’t very reliable.”

Cassian gets up from the sofa, as the Archerons look to him where he stretches, striding to the lamp. He looks to them both and then to Nesta.

He’d be someone she could rely on, Cassian promises himself. All of them could rely on him. He’d take care of this little family he now belongs to—wants desperately to belong to…

“Make a world she doesn’t have to escape from,” He calls out softly.  

“Now get some sleep.”

He reaches to turn off the lamp, as Elain lays down content with the answer. Feyre gazes up at him, her lips titling upwards, raising a hand in goodnight. And he watches them both, cuddle up to Nesta, tucking her in to their embrace as if they’ll protect her from the world.

Cassian hopes they know Nesta, without a doubt, would travel to the ends of the world for both of them.  

~

Tagged: @cassianscool  @fatimafares123  @rotstamp  @nestalytical  @my-fan-side  @pizzaneverdisappoints  @courtofjurdan  @nahthanks @nestable @soitsgorgeous @arin1030

~

This is way longer than I thought, but it was really easy to write surprisingly. I think either I have more skill or I make things way too complicated on a regular basis. 

I really, really loved writing this in-between stage of Nesta and Cassian being officially together. Having some sort of connection that they haven’t worked out fully yet. I absolutely loved writing Cassian hopelessly devoted to Nesta, but I wanted it to be subtle, a quiet sort of devotion.

I have a fascination with writing Nesta done with everyone, because well she has a right to be, but also because she reminds me so much of a Darcy character from 2005 Pride and Prejudice where she’s just a hopeless, awkward bean whose so inherently introverted that she can’t stand to have people around her and then ends up being rude for no reason, but also has that complexity about her where she secretly does want people around her but she doesn’t know how to ask for it or create the boundaries that she’s comfortable with. It’s always so interesting writing Nesta. I’m going to miss it when the book comes out. SOON! But hopefully, I get more content to write and not less. I’m still thinking of finishing “Queen of Monsters” regardless of the book, since I’ve written so much of that. I just haven’t posted it and I need something to hold me over for the next one. 

The next one-shot (provided I write it) will be actually about the Inner Circle trying to get closer with Nesta, because they figure that they’re kind of making a line between all of them if they don’t start including her. But Nesta absolutely does not like being around them and is almost grumpy the whole time. I think it’s funny. But you know, maybe it does helps… you never know.

Anyways happy reading! And it’s almost the release date woohooo!!!

Reblog, like, comment, let me know if you want to be tagged on the next one.

[i-love-hobbies]

The biggest criticism Lilith's redemption arc gets and Eda's biggest strength

(ft. me getting completely side tracked and wanting a Hooty redemption arc)

Ok, so firstly I wanna talk about real life and then say how it was done in the owl house.

I hate the words "Everyone should get what they deserve." Cause firstly this never happens, secondly, the words are very vague and it opens a window of miscommunication and thirdly, cause in Lilith's case they are focused at, she needs to be hurt in order to change.

There are even people that have said that they are looking forward to watching Lilith suffer (I don't know if I've said it on the internet but I was one of them.)

Revenge has been proven to not make people feel better. And a lot of therapists usually say you need to forgive people. That doesn't mean fix the relationship, it means try to stop wishing they get hurt. Cause the feeling is only hurting you.

Also it's a normal human feeling to be angry, so no I'm not calling people monsters for this. And forgiveness is a hard process that takes a lot of work, but it usually isn't helped by hurting others.

The words people usually use to defend this sentence are:

"Consequences change people's minds or at the very least make them scared of doing it again."

Ok so how about we use this sentence instead, it's short enough and the main mission now is keeping ourselves safe Instead of it being hurting someone, you're still wishing it but it's not the main goal, it's a secondary one.

Well, cause it immediately shows two issues both statements have.

Firstly a friendship with someone that wants to hurt you but is scared of doing so is not a healthy one, cause they'll just try to be sneaky. You can only do it with people that aren't close to you like how the authorities do it towards criminals.

Secondly punishments rarely change people's minds. They've never worked on me, especially when you attack my identity, cause this way you make it even worse. And expecting that you can change someone usually means you're about to fail.

"But we can't get rid of punishments, people will hurt us."

I'm not saying we should. I'm saying our main goal should be our safety and hurting them may happen but it shouldn't be important.

Or better yet:

"Building healthy boundaries to the point where you're not getting hurt anymore, but not going overboard."

Examples:

- You have a friend you see Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday. But on Wednesdays, after work, they usually are very ignorant of your feelings and sometimes joke at your expense. So you stop going out at Wednesdays.

They might never ask why you did it and that's ok, cause you're not getting hurt anymore.

But usually they do ask why? You explain to them the issue with respect, don't call them names.

Some people will change after this and you can get rid of the boundary later on.

Other people may acknowledge this and say it's a good idea, cause they are overwhelmed, but never change.

Other other people may start hurting you even more. You build the boundaries even more, sometimes to the point you cut them out of your life, even if they weren't hurting you intentionally.

Which is completely ok if you can't maintain contact without being hurt.

- Eda's handling of Gwendolyn's cures is another good one. She never called her names or anything. She just made sure that Gwen can't hurt her anymore. Cause it wasn't only the cures. Eda's feelings were always getting ignored. She literally couldn't talk with her about anything other than the curse. Her emotions were getting neglected.

- Eda's handling of Tibbles is also an interesting example.

At first after the scamming she just left him. She couldn't see how he could hurt her.

And in episode 14 she killed him. Cause he showed that he would do anything to murder her dump kids and knew their address. Almost same story with Adegast.

Yes murder in this extreme cases can be a healthy boundary.

Lilith's relationships with the owl fam

King:

King didn't know Lilith was living with them and knows about her neglect.

Luz:

Luz would only stand up for others never for herself which is very unhealthy. I don't know if she forgave Lilith, but I can see her not mentioning it if she hasn't and playing along as a teacher.

"The real mystery is how she can be both so smart and yet so wrong at the same time. Academics, am I right?"

The closest one to her she has roasted like this, is her mentor, who firstly makes people feel safe.

"EDA, You're embarrassing me Infront of my crew." - Raine, after thirty years of not seeing her.

Secondly, she was being a jerk, she was teaching Luz about cards while she was begging for magic lessons and was not getting it for weeks.

"Cards, the paper rectangles that old people think are fun."

Heck, she might even be scared of Lilith. She almost got killed.

So far I don't have a reason to think she likes her. She hasn't really talked with her or about her much.

Eda:

Eda has already shown that she can handle conflicts in relationships. Like in episode 9, where she got Luz into Hexside and everything I already said.

I made an entire post about Eda being too emotional and I still stand by it, but serious situations that have to do with relationships, she usually is very rational and good at handling them. Probably because of the curse making her afraid of her anger and countless people attacking her.

At the beginning of the series Eda probably was expecting that the worst case scenario would be for Lilith to catch her and if Lilith isn't given the time to realise what she did, she'd be killed and best case scenario Lilith changes.

Episode 5, where Lilith burned down her wanted posters, episode 8 where Lilith was gonna get her straight in the coven instead of arresting her, episode 11, where Lilith said she wanted for Eda to join on her own and episode 17, where they played grudgby.

Proved to her even more that Lilith cares a lot for her and maybe she will change.

Then episode 18 happened and King wanting hugs and Luz's "Let me die!" Suddenly the worst case scenario became not her dieing but her dieing and the trauma the kids will experience. The fact that they won't have her in their lifes.

Lilith says "Then why were you so easy to curse?!?" This does not sound like "I accidentally did this and I'm sorry." No, Eda thought Lilith did this on purpose. And now her kids might get killed by her own sister cause she was too naive to trust her.

From now on I don't think she was trying to kill her cause Lilith isn't dangerous without raw power like Adegast and Tibbles, but to disable her is a possibility.

To add to this Eda wasn't rational almost throughout the entire finale. She probably didn't pick up on the line "If you would just let me explain." Just like she didn't question why Lilith was thrown in a cage.

Then she learns that Lilith commited treason together with her kids and started feeling like she doesn't know the full story, but Lilith is still a caring person. So she jumps Infront of the beam to save both Lilith and King.

Afterwards Lilith shares the curse and has nowhere to go if she gets kicked out so there is no reason to believe that she would hurt them physically.

I know in a post I said I don't think she fully processed the situation with Lilith. But now I think I was only half right.

She didn't fully process how much she was hurt but she understood Lilith's situation. Forgave her as soon as possible, not immediately. But that doesn't mean she rebuilded the relationship as soon as she forgave her.

First of, the forgiveness part happened after episode 1. The entire episode she was guilt tripping her, which I don't think was helping the situation. It makes Lilith more emotional which then makes it harder for her to face reality.

I'm not calling Eda a bad person for this but I do think it was a mistake.

What wasn't a mistake but a good thing is Eda wasn't the one to listen to her problems, it was Hooty. Cause her emotional health matters too and standing in one room with her sister is challenging.

And now I'm wondering does Eda know about how Lilith was treated by both the coven and their parents.

Eda calling Lilith a tool, seems to me more of them competing with each other rather than the recent events. Also Lilith forcing her rules without saying why they are there.

I'm glad the episode ended with them switching roles, where Lilith is now more powerful. Though I'm pretty sure the roles are getting switched again.

So what about the rebuilding of the relationship or should I say trust.

Well they didn't show us much, but I think the trust isn't fully back.

Cause she has only been proving that she can be physically trusted like when she saved King's life.

Eda never opens up, which is unhealthy. But in this case it's a healthy boundary, cause King did it and he got Lilith projecting onto him.

Lilith isn't good at being mentally supportive and still has bad habits.

Lulu and Hootsifer

Hooty helping Lilith was something, she really needed and didn't take for granted, cause the only one to ever even consider this is Eda.

They are buddies that look out for each other. I wouldn't say they talk a lot about feelings as they have no idea how to do that, but there are examples where they do.

Like "What kind of a witch am I?" and Hooty's letter.

Her letter for Hooty, was supportive, but ignored the issue of Hooty always being in people's personal space.

Which led to Hooty drugging Eda, kidnapping three children and almost killing said kids when his plans didn't work the way he wanted. He also ate the letter for King.

I want a Hooty redemption arc, now!

[achaoticeternal]

the 1 // d. malfoy

DRACO MALFOY X MUGGLEBORN!READER folklore/evermore series masterlist

Summary: he couldn’t see past one thing, and because of that, he left. but it could have been fun, if he could have been the one. Word Count: 2.9k Warning: Blood Prejudice. Angst. Lost love. A/N: it is implied that the reader is not in slytherin but a house is not specifically mentioned.

It’s funny how the simplest things one sees in their everyday life can bring back a spiral of memories - good or bad. Green apples, paper airplanes, and the combination of silver and green were now forever tainted in your mind. It was silly that something as human and simple as blood and family had to be the downfall of what was thought to be a love that would last a lifetime. And however hard you would try to cast away and thoughts or feelings or symbols of him, memories always had a way of persistently reminding you of what was no longer yours and possibly was never yours...

Hogwarts, 4th Year

September welcomed you with the last tastes of summer warmth before winter came stalking back, only to bring the tundra with it. It was the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and a year of making new, international acquaintances with the women of Beauxbatons and the men of Durmstrang.

Your summer had been less eventful than that of your peers whom a great majority had attended the Quidditch World Cup and some even experienced the Death Eaters return. Rumors had been around about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returning and which wizarding families would side with him. Of course, house and blood prejudice played a part in it all, but you managed to look past all of the controversies in the wizarding world. Over the summer, you had grown into yourself and blossomed into a beautiful witch who was very bright for her age. Others around the school had noticed as well, including the men from Durmstrang that created competition for the boys of Hogwarts.

However, with it now October, none of them caught your attention yet as you walked back to your seat in the arena with Hermione after leaving the Champions Tent to check in with Harry, whose name had unfortunately spouted for the Goblet of Fire. Today was the first challenge of three, and you had done your best to be supportive of your friend.

“Hermione, please calm down. Harry will figure it out, he always does,” You glided down the steps in front of her, looking for your fellow Gryffindors.

“But a dragon! This challenge is unbelievably foul! And that Daily Prophet woman has made this all so much-” As Hermione rambled on, she paid little attention to her feet and accidentally stepped on the back of your heel.

The misstep along with the shock had caused you to lose your balance and begin to take a tumble down the steps. As you felt gravity pull you down and prepared yourself for the inevitable pain with it, a pair of arms and a masculine frame had caught you before the disaster could occur.

“Careful, (y/l/n), we can’t have you harming that beautiful face. It would be quite a shame if you took a nasty tumble down the stairs,” he spoke, his tone a fine line between flirtatious and condescending.

“Oh, I-” The boy helped you balance yourself on the steps again, and you finally lifted your head to meet the eyes of your savior, “Draco.”

“Are you alright, (y/l/n)? Not to frightened by the dragons, are you?” His grey eyes peered back up into yours as you were slightly taller than him due to the steps of the stairs.

“No, no, of course not,” You shook your head softly and smiled to the boy, “Thank you, Draco.”

As if on cue, Hermione had invaded the private moment between you and the Malfoy boy, “Excuse us, Malfoy, but we would like to go sit with our friends before Harry enters the arena.”

His gaze broke off to glare at Hermione, “Oh yeah, you catch quite a view of him cowering away from the beast. I bet he’ll forfeit the challenge five minutes in.”

Draco’s entire demeanor had changed from a strange kindness to a smug arrogance as he sneered at the Granger girl. You didn’t want anything more to come from the encounter, so you caught Draco's attention again by lightly fixing his hat that had become lopsided, “Thank you again, Draco, but we should really be getting to our seats.”

His eyes flickered back to you and his features softened again, “Well if you feel like joining me in cheering for Krum, there will remain a seat open for you.”

With that, he allows the pair of you the breeze past him as he returns to his seat. A warmth stayed persistent on your cheeks as you made your way next to Ron, who looked quite disgruntled.

“(y/n), what was that back there?” Hermione questioned as the pair of you took your seats,

“What happened? Harry say something?”

Before you could speak, Hermione replied, “I accidentally tripped (y/n), but Draco caught her before she could tumble down the steps. Which I guess is somewhat lucky, but he flirted with her.”

“Malfoy?!? But he-,” Ron looked at you, both quizzical and worried, “Did he do anything? He jinx you?”

“Um... no,” You looked between the two of them, lost in their confusion.

“But Malfoy can’t stand muggle-borns, even if they are kind or pretty as you, (y/n),” Ron wrinkled his nose at the thought.

“That’s just it,” Both yours and Ron’s attention snapped to Hermione, “I don’t think Malfoy knows that you’re muggle-born which probably is in your favor, you saw how he looked and spoke to me.”

A canon erupted, signaling that Harry would enter the arena in only a moment. The shock of it all had left you confused, “it was probably just a one-time encounter. Let’s just watch Harry, and let that just blow over.”

With that, the three of you cheered for the Gryffindor boy and mostly forgot about your encounter with Draco. Sure, the memory of it would continue to puzzle you and keep you up at night to only be lost in thought. Yet, December rolled around quicker than anyone expected and with it, exciting news.

Along with the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the tradition of the Yule Ball would fall on the eve of the winter solstice. Many girls around the school were already gossiping about dates, dress, and dancing even though many of their male colleagues seemed to be quite opposed to the event. That was until the school announced that the Weird Sisters would be playing a set at the ball.

Of course, the main chatter was who the champions were taking to the Yule Ball because every girl wanted Cedric or Viktor to ask them and every boy was lining up to ask Fleur. Yet poor Harry couldn’t seem to catch a break-even in finding a date for the night. But Hermione would be quite the talk of the town once everyone realized that she was Viktor’s date for the ball, and he had taken a further interest in her. The pair of you chatted as you walked towards your classes together - she was going to the astronomy tower and you were going to divinations.

“I still can’t believe you snagged Viktor Krum! I mean I’m not exactly surprised with both your beauty and brains-”

“Oh stop that,” Hermione blushed and tried to quiet you down, “Who are you going with? I know that you’ve been asked at least five times today!”

As she showered you in compliments, you saw the flash of platinum blonde hair breeze past the pair of you with a few followers trickling behind. It was undoubtedly Malfoy and his crew who were also headed to Professor Trelawney’s class. 

“I haven’t said yes to anyone yet,” you admitted timidly.

“What?!? You have to be kidding me, (y/n). I know at least half the Durmstrang boys would love to be your escort for the night-”

“I-I know that, Hermione,” you flushed as the pair of you paused on the stairs, “I’m just... waiting for the right person.”

“Alright, just make sure you say yes to him. Or else I fear Harry or Ron will ask you,” You bid each other goodbye and separated to your designated classes.

As you made your way up the north tower to try and make it to class a few minutes early. Even though other students may have found her strange and overbearing, you knew that she was deep down a kind lady who wished the best for everyone she crossed paths with. Yet before you could make it up much further, you felt a light tug on the hood of your robes.

“Oh!” you jumped slightly at the shock.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, (y/n),” Michael Corner smiled as he glanced up at you, “do you have just a quick second?”

“I do, but let’s step into the window sill so that we’re out of the way,” you suggested. He stepped over onto it first, before offering his hand out to you, “Thank you.”

Few students passed by the two of you and up into the north tower, there was still 5 minutes till classes started but you still hoped to be early enough to snag a seat in the front.

“Well, how can I help you, Michael? Did you get my notes from Cho? I asked her to pass them onto you, but I can make you an extra copy-”

“No, no, she passed them along to me. Thank you for that. Potions is sadly not my area of expertise,” He smiled as a little blush dusted his cheeks, “I actually was wondering if you had a date to the Yule Ball? And if not-”

“(y/l/n)!” you heard Draco call and quickly hurry up the steps towards you, “Thank Salazar I found you before classes started.”

Draco paused next to you, giving you the kindest eyes before his gaze turned towards Michael. His expression changed into that of one mixed with jealousy and disagreement, “Corner, shouldn’t you be out in the greenhouses. Why don’t you leave (y/n) alone before someone gets the impression that a Ravenclaw is going to skip class.”

Michael glanced at you then over to Draco before disappearing down the stairs. Before he completely vanished from your sight, he looked back up at you with a very apparent look of disappointment in his eyes. Draco now took the spot where Michael was previously and held your right hand in his.

“(y/l/n), I don’t know if you realize but you are quite a wanted woman recently,” Draco smirked, his grey eyes flickering across your face as if gathering information.

“I guess so... I mean with the ball and everything, I have gotten plenty of proposals.”

“So I’ve heard, but you’ve yet to say yes to any of them, or so I’ve heard.”

“Correct again. I haven’t given my word to attend with anyone, but I did promise a dance or two to a few gentlemen,” you tried to analyze the situation as best as you could, but Draco remained unreadable to you. He also knew how to put up a good front.

“Well, (y/n), I am hoping that you’ll give me the pleasure of being my date to the Yule Ball, and hopefully, you will allow me to take you to Hogsmeade in the next few weeks,” his face had softened as he waited for a reply, his smugness and confident stance faltering under your gaze.

“Draco, are you asking me out? As your girlfriend and to the Yule Ball?”

“I figured- you know... two birds with one stone.”

“I would love to be your companion to the Yule Ball,” You beamed at him, “and your girlfriend.”

That day had long passed now. So had the Yule Ball and your entire fourth year. Now you were at the end of your fifth year and Draco no longer treated you like a prized possession, let alone sparing you a glance. 

At some point in your relationship, the sweetness of being in love ended as he began expecting behaviors and ideas from you that you never expressed before. He still held Slytherin above every other house and expected you to treat those not in Slytherin's house the same way he did. He wanted your attention and affection at every second, instead of allowing you to be with friends and he rarely ever returned affections either. But the worst behavior that Draco partook of that crossed every line for you was the blood prejudice. 

He held being part of the Sacred Twenty Eight to a higher degree than necessary in all aspects. There was a difference in being proud of your bloodline and then being prideful of your bloodline. And the Malfoy family very much fell into the pride of being Pureblooded Wizards. 

That was when a puzzle really clicked into place for you. Yes, Draco had loved you for you, but he also needed his parents to love you. He tried to pressure you into a perfect little box that he could wrap up and present to mummy and daddy. You understood why he felt the needed to continue being the perfect Malfoy, but you couldn’t understand why he thought it was okay to pull you into it. His parents would never accept you for one reason. 

“I don’t understand this, (y/l/n). we took a break just like you asked and it has done nothing. I know you still love me, so let's stop this ridiculous behavior. My parents want to meet you again. Mother loved you and I’m sure this time father will...”

“No, Draco. I don’t want to go back to the Manor,” You shook your head and took deep breaths.

“Well, that’s odd, but we can go to your estate-”

“No, can’t you listen-”

“The Three Broomsticks then, but please, I need you-”

“No, Draco, you aren’t listening to me,” tears threatened to spill as you felt your heart begin to shatter. You had never lied to Draco, but the truth about your family had never come to the surface.

As far as it concerned the Wizarding World, the (y/l/n) Family was also a part of the Sacred Twenty Eight Pureblood families. You understood the confusion and had to explain it to many of your friends and professors. But now Draco had to know the truth, even if it meant he wouldn’t be yours anymore.

“I’m not whoever you’ve painted me out to be,” your bottom lips quivered as you took a deep breath, “I’m not exactly who you think I am.”

Draco’s whole body dropped, “what do you mean?”

“Yes, I am part of the (y/l/n) bloodline, but I’m also a muggle-born.”

“No, that doesn’t make sense.”

“My grandparents had five children. My two uncles, my father, and my two aunts. All of them great wizards, except for my father who had no magical abilities - the only one in our family. He married my mother, who is a muggle. However, I am a witch.” you confessed it all, praying that he would understand. Maybe he would love you enough to glance over this fatal flaw.

“A squib? Your father is a squib and you never bothered to mention it!”

“It wasn’t that important I thought, because I’m still a member of a Pureblood family! I thought that you would see over it because it’s such a small hiccup.”

“I- no, I can’t just look over it. You know I can’t and you know I won’t,” Draco glared, looking at you with the same disdain that his father had when speaking of muggles.

“Draco, please. We can lie and just paint over this. I’ll even get my family to lie, but I don’t want to lose you. I’ve never felt like this with anyone, ever in my life,” A few stray tears managed to escape your defense as you begged him.

“(y/n), we both know who my parents, who my family, who we are associated with. I can’t risk it and neither can you.”

“I love you, Draco. And everyone knows it.”

“I love you too. And hopefully, you will get it through your head while I can’t love you anymore.”

During your sixth and seventh years, you never spoke to Draco, let alone offered a glance in his general direction. He shattered your heart after you had thought you had found your person, your soulmate if you will. The only thing the shocked you was that he never mentioned or let lose the dirtiest secret of your family. It wouldn’t have changed much but still have hurt you enough in many social circles.

Even after the Battle of Hogwarts had passed, you still hadn’t made up with Draco and even Harry Potter, his schoolyard nemesis, ended up coming to terms. All your friends were engaged, married, or dating. You had also tried, but nothing ever came of anything you attempted to pursue. The spark you once had with who you thought was the love of your life never reappeared with anyone else.

However, you heard from the newlywed Potter’s that Draco had married - an arranged marriage - but married nonetheless. To Astoria Greengrass who was two years your younger back in school. Both purebloods, caring for their family lineage. The news had come to you at the end of another failed relationship and felt like a ton of bricks on your chest.

No, the Malfoy prejudice was in no way your fault. You had done everything you could to salvage the relationships and love him unconditionally. But sometimes you wonder...

if one thing had been different, would everything be different?

[blackwoolncrown]

The (Sometimes Unintentional) Subtext of Digital Conversations

 Different people have different ideas about what it means to sign an email “XOXO,” what you should use Facebook for, and how long you can wait before texting back.

By

Deborah Tannen

The meanings we glean in conversation are often, maybe mostly, not found in the words spoken, but in how they’re said, and in the spaces between them. Tone of voice, and cadences created by shifts in speed, volume, and pitch, let listeners know whether “Nice job,” is complimentary or sarcastic, or whether “Wow” shows that you’re impressed or underwhelmed. The literal meaning of words is their message, and everything about how words are said is the metamessage. Metamessages communicate how you mean what you say.

More and more conversations are taking place on screens—via texting, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, email, and myriad other platforms. Some of these written conversations make up for the lack of voicing with conventions that mimic speech, like exclamation points, CAPS, and repetition of words or letters. I can be “so happy!!!!!!!” or “sooooo happy” or “SO happy” or “sosososo happy” or even “SOSOSOSOOOOOO happy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Emoticons, emojis, and gifs help, too. But these visual signals are only the tip of the metamessage iceberg.

Human beings are always in the business of making meaning and interpreting meaning. Because there are options to choose from when sending a message, like which platform to use and how to use it, we see meaning in the choice that was made. But because the technologies, and the conventions for using them, are so new and are changing so fast, even close friends and relatives have differing ideas about how they should be used. And because metamessages are implied rather than stated, they can be misinterpreted or missed entirely.

Different generations are particularly apt to perceive different metamessages in the same words or actions. For example, a Sri Lankan woman living in London told me of hosting her sister and her sister’s teenage daughter. When the girl refused to go out after 3:00 p.m., because that’s when her friends back home got active on WhatsApp, the sisters perceived the metamessage, “I’m not really here. My head and my heart are elsewhere.” But I suspect the girl’s perspective was more like: “I’m here with you—that’s a given—but I also want to stay connected to my friends, and I can’t bear the thought of being left out”

I heard a great range of viewpoints on social media while interviewing over 80 women (ranging in age from 9 to 97) for a study of friendship. And my students at Georgetown University have helped me understand how they manage, and sometimes are tripped up by, the metamessages communicated over social media—and how habits and assumptions can differ.

For instance, when Kate Lucey’s sister had not given birth by her due date, she kept family and friends apprised of what was happening with her pregnancy by posting frequently on Facebook. In response, even distant relatives and casual friends posted well wishes and encouraging thoughts. Kate felt that these postings sent her sister a precious metamessage: Many people love her and care about her pregnancy. The posts strengthened her network of support. Kate was stunned to learn that her roommate perceived a negative metamessage in her sister’s use of Facebook. She said she would have been offended to be kept up to date about a pregnancy that way; she would think, “Geez, why didn’t you call?” Kate’s roommate reasoned that posting on Facebook is so easy that it means nothing. A phone conversation reflects and creates a meaningful relationship, whereas Facebook creates a false sense of intimacy, not a real relationship.

The impression that posting on Facebook is insincere because it’s too easy sounds a lot like the explanation a friend gave me (over email) for disliking “THAT DRAT ‘xoxo,’ which means nothing, just keys to hit.” This perspective–if something is too easy it’s meaningless or insincere—makes sense. Taking time sends a metamessage of caring. Yet I like ‘xoxo’ (or my personal variant, ‘xxoo’), and use it, though only with friends who use it first. I think xoxo fills a need: It’s a more affectionate way to close an email than “Best” but not as fervent as “Love,” which, in any case, some people don’t feel comfortable using with friends, though some do. Maybe it strikes some as fake because it’s a substitution, standing for “love and kisses” but not denoting it. Or maybe it seems too cutesy. Whatever the source of these impressions, deciding how to sign off a message becomes a challenge, since any choice you make will send metamessages that you may not intend or suspect.

I was shocked to realize that my students might be perceiving metamessages opposite from what I intend when I reply to their email requests and queries. One of them pointed out that when he emails professors, he begins with a salutation (“Dear Professor Smith”) and a greeting like “I hope you’re enjoying the weekend.” Only then does he explain his request—in detail—followed by a friendly closing, again about the weekend or the weather, before wrapping up with “Sincerely” or “Yours truly” above his name. (I recognized his description: That’s the way most of my students’ emails look.) The student then complained that many of his professors’ responses omit the salutation, greeting, full explanation, friendly closing, signature, and name. All he receives is a naked reply to his question, and usually a cryptic one at that. I realized that I do this, too–or did, before he, and others in class discussion, opened my eyes. I had assumed that dispensing with those formalities sends a metamessage of casual friendliness, more or less the way I use email with close friends and family. But students regard email as formal, so the omission of those niceties often strikes them as disrespectful, even rude. (Now I go back and add the trimmings before pressing SEND.)

It’s not surprising that professors’ and students’ practices would vary, given the difference in power and age. But even best friends can have very different ideas about appropriate ways to use social media. Noelle Miesfeld and Rachel Jacobson had been close friends since college, and they stayed in close touch after graduation, often having long telephone conversations, catching up. After a number of years, however, they began communicating more through texting. This meant more frequent conversations—often daily or even multiple times a day. So Noelle was surprised when Rachel registered a complaint: She’d been telling Noelle about a problem, and she felt that Noelle’s responses seemed too casual and brief to show real concern. Rachel missed her caring, emotionally supportive friend. They traced the trouble to their contrasting assumptions about texting. To Noelle, comforting closeness resided in the frequency of their exchanges. To Rachel, frequency didn’t substitute for the expression of feeling and detailed discussion of her situation that they’d shared in the past—the kinds of conversations that Noelle didn’t feel could or should take place through texting.

When deciding which platform to use and how to use it, as well as how to interpret communications you receive—or don’t receive—you have to know which platforms your friends tend to use and how they use them. Some will answer texts but not emails. Others don’t check their phones regularly, so you can’t rely on texting to reach them. The proliferation of platforms means more options to exploit but also more opportunities for your messages to be misinterpreted. How quickly does a particular friend usually reply to a text or email? What does the lack of an immediate response mean? So firm is some people’s expectation of a quick reply to a text that any lapse carries meaning. A student, telling me about a friend who, in her words, “stopped talking” to her, said, by way of explanation, “She’d text me back two days later.” To her, a two-day delay was tantamount to not talking at all.

Silence can be a deliberate communication. One woman said of a text she received from a friend, “I was so annoyed, I’m just not responding. I just didn’t answer.” Yet in other cases, silence doesn’t mean anything; it results from circumstances. A young woman thought her boyfriend’s delay in responding meant he was angry at her. It turned out his phone battery had run out.

Perceived metamessages of annoyance can snowball, whether or not they were intended. A student recounted in an interview a Facebook message exchange with a friend that, she felt, should have been straightforward but became complicated. She sent a message suggesting they go running later than planned. The friend messaged back, “I guess that’s okay. Fine, see you then.” That little opener, “I guess,” and the unenthusiastic “okay” seemed to imply that she wasn’t thrilled with the change of plans. So the student responded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be difficult. I’m more flexible than I made it sound. I can actually just do one o’clock like we planned.” That set off a back-and-forth that went four rounds—“No no no let’s do the time you wanna do,” “No no no let’s do the time we said.” Hair-tearing exchanges like these are particularly common among girls and women because, as the student pointed out, they often worry about coming across as too demanding and hurting others’ feelings.

My student Holly DiClemente explained how her peers make creative use of digital features to avoid hurting friends’ feelings. One example is ghost reading—reading a message without opening it, by just reading the preview in the text app, or on your lock screen. If a phone automatically sends “read receipt” notices to let others know their messages have been opened and, presumably, read, ghost reading comes in handy to manage the implied metamessages. If you see from the text notification that a friend is asking if you want to hang out, and you don’t want to but you don’t want to hurt her feelings, you can open the message later and tell her you’re sorry you just got it. The “read receipts” feature can also be used to show you’re mad; it lets someone know you’ve read their message and are intentionally not responding—a visual virtual snub. But there, too, they might think you’re mad when you’re not. Maybe you saw that the message was long, so you put off replying until you’d have more time to read it, or to write a thoughtful response.

Metamessages—intended or not—can reside in just about any aspect of digital communication, even something as minor and automatic as listing recipients’ names when sending email. If you enter the addresses on the “to” or “cc” line, everyone who receives it can see not only who else is getting the message but also what order you put the names in. Two women I interviewed together, Lucy McBride and Annie Finnell, pointed out some of the resulting metamessages: “You feel special when you’re the first one on there,” Lucy said. Annie agreed: “You do. And you feel not special when you’re the last one.” Lucy added, “Because if you’re dead last, it’s like they were thinking, ‘Who am I forgetting?’” To avoid offending those whose names come later or last, you can put recipients’ email addresses on the “bcc” line. But that sends a metamessage, too. It’s what people do when the list of recipients is very long, so “It looks like you’re inviting all of Northwest Washington!”

Anytime there are multiple recipients, metamessages can get complicated. I was part of a group that used email to confer about a joint project. In one such exchange, a member of our group expressed well wishes to another about a medical condition, after which all the others chimed in, echoing the expressions of concern. I was puzzled. I didn’t know whether this flurry of well wishes was related to the ongoing medical challenge I knew this group member had been experiencing, or whether there had been a new and dangerous development I didn’t know about. I asked another group member, who said she was not aware of any new developments either, but wanted to express her general support for our ailing friend. I went ahead and sent my own well wishes, cc’ing only the one who first expressed concern. But then I worried that the others would think me callous and uncaring. I rather regretted having foregone the option of allowing—or forcing--everyone to overhear my well wishes.

Every word we speak is chock-full of metamessages telling others not only how we mean what we say but also who we are. It has always been that way; it’s the only way language can work to communicate ideas and negotiate relationships. With social media, we have ever more ways to do this—and ever more things to worry about, to make sure the self we’re displaying is the one we believe we are—or the one we want to be.

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X11

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I liked this episode overall even though it wasn’t quite what I was expecting. I thought that in this episode we were going to see Meredith and Derek reunite one last time on the beach and then Meredith was going to wake up in a dramatic fashion and we would get some big dramatic scene. I now think that that's going to happen in next week's episode or the one after. I like that they showed that she was getting better but that the challenge now was to get her to wake up and stay awake. While it wasn't super dramatic it was probably more realistic to how the disease actually works and affects people in real life.

I kept thinking every time Meredith fell back asleep that she was going to appear on the beach, and I was little disappointed that she didn’t. That being said, I really loved Jo's scene with Meredith. I thought it was really sweet and touching and I like that Meredith was supportive and told Richard what Jo had said so that he could help her. Jo was scared that Meredith would yell at her and not understand if she told her so that was nice to see. I also liked that this episode combined with the previous one seems to indicate that the beach exists in Meredith’s head, it’s her happy place, and that she can hear people when they talk to her at her bedside and can potentially hear people when they stand outside her room.

This means that when she does wake up for real, they won’t have to rehash plots that we’ve already seen because Meredith will already know what happened and they can just go from there. I also really liked the scene where Richard came to Jo and she was worried he was angry with her and would try to talk her out of switching specialties, but instead he told her he wanted to help her but he couldn't do that if he was in the dark. That being said, while I’m okay with Jo switching it up, I'm still not sold on Jo switching to OBGYN because I don't think they've done enough to set up the storyline.

We’re 3/4 of the way through the season and all Jo has done is talk about it, but she hasn't done anything to actually make it happen. We got more set up for her switching to Urology and being mentored by Catherine in one episode than we've had all season with Jo wanting to switch to OBGYN. Jo’s had plenty of time to talk to people in the field about her desire to change careers, talk to her superiors, and find a mentor. She’s done none of that. In fact she’s been hiding her desire to switch from everyone who could actually help her with feels a lot like self-sabotage. If she’s really interested, she should have gone to Meredith, Bailey, and Richard in the first half of the season and talked about how she was feeling.

She should have asked Hayes and Carina what working in OBGYN and Pediatrics was really like. She hasn’t done that and right now she seems to have a very rosy picture of what the field is like that just doesn’t match the reality. She keeps talking about how it’s going to be great because it’s all about happy Moms, but that isn’t the reality for everyone. There’s a lot that can go wrong in childbirth, not everyone is happy to be having a baby, some might be placing their children for adoption, they may be fighting with their partner, they may lash out because they are in pain, the list goes on.

If Jo is serious about switching, she should be asking Hayes and Carina a thousand questions and finding someone to mentor her. Instead her and Carina haven’t had a single scene together this season that I can recall, and she spent two whole episodes screaming at Hayes and being super aggressive towards him when he was already terrified about Meredith and Irene. She knows that if she switches specialities she’ll be working with Hayes and people in his Department a lot. Which means she should be super nice to him and being asking for his help. Instead, she’s created this super weird dynamic in which she’s either yelling at him aggressively or they are exchanging polite conversation about work.

Hayes makes it clear to Irene that they are not friends, he is not interested in her, and has no desire to change that which is on Jo because she went from being nice to him and being friendly and teasing him about his feelings for Meredith last season to taking advantage of the fact that they are coworkers to scream at him when he didn’t want to break protocol after what happened to Meredith and was upset after Irene was admitted. She also made that horrible comment comparing his wife’s death to her divorce from Alex and seem to take the fact that he was upset and wanted the best care for Irene as a personal offence and to mean that Hayes think she’s incompetent. None of which is true. It’s all in Jo’s head.

So yeah, I’m not sold on her switching to OBGYN because they haven’t done enough set up and they already tried that with Carina, and it didn’t work. There just isn’t enough material to have a character appear on the show regularly if they are an OBGYN only and can’t perform pediatric, fetal, or neonatal surgery. After they wrote Arizona off, they spent two seasons trying to find stuff for Carina to do before pairing her with Maya and moving her over to Station 19. Several of the current writers were present during seasons 14, 15, and 16 so they were there when that happened, and they were involved. So, I’m confused as to why they think something that failed the first time is going to work with an existing character.

If this is the show’s last season, I feel like this storyline is going to end with Jo re-specializing and adopting Luna. If this isn’t the show’s last season and they’re doing one more I don’t understand how the writers think they are somehow going to get a season’s worth of content out of Jo delivers babies and sleeps with Jackson. We got some good patient storylines this episode and the storyline about the newlywed couple was funny and interesting. I had a feeling as soon as Bailey convinced the guy to talk to his life that it was going to go the opposite way than Bailey intended.

I like that Owen took Bailey’s advice and gentle prodding to heart and apologized to Teddy. I am happy that Owen finally made amends and that he and Teddy seem to be moving forward. I was so sick of them fighting so I’m glad to see that storyline come to an end. It was exhausting and I'm glad that Owen finally got it and that that they are both starting to heal. It was long overdue. I think he heard what Bailey was saying and even though it didn't hold true for the couple they treated it did hold true for him and Teddy and that's what Bailey was trying to share with him.

As for what the future holds for Teddy and Owen, I'd like to see them become friends again and find a way to co-parent peacefully with Amelia and Link for the good of their kids and themselves. I think there's been too much drama and heartbreak for them to work as a couple at this point. I loved seeing Maggie and Hayes work together to treat a patient. I liked the scene where Maggie said it was time to let the patient go and Hayes looked at her and said aren't you some kind of genius or something? Figure it out.

It was nice to see her in a non-romantic storyline with someone that Meredith is interested in. I never liked the “Meredith is dating or interested in someone or they are interested in her, but her sister misunderstands the situation and thinks they are into her or cluelessly asks them out” plots. I love that Hayes is finally getting his moment in the sun. He's played a big role in the second half of the season so far and I'm really happy about that. He's one of my favourite new characters and they really underutilized him in the first half of the season. I loved seeing his interactions with Maggie and watching them find a solution for his young patient. I really loved the scene where they're all in the OR and their idea works. The unfettered joy on their faces was palpable and it filled me with joy!

The scenes where the patient’s father confided his fears to Hayes about his son and how his wife hasn’t been able to get out of bed in weeks and then just before they took him into surgery, he talked to his son about all of the things he wanted to do with him. That made me tear up. I loved how Hayes got the idea for the surgery from Jo being metaphorical and convinced Maggie to do it. I was surprised that Maggie’s engagement wasn’t mentioned, and I got the impression that Maggie hasn't told anyone about her engagement yet as no one commented on it so I'm interested to see when that will come out and people's reactions to it.

I liked that Link’s parents showed up and offered to take the kids out for the day (safely) and that we got to see Link having a happier interaction with his parents and that Amelia and Link got a break. While his parents have come across as selfish and sometimes cruel and irresponsible in the past it was really nice of them to offer to take the kids for the day and I like that they happily offered and accepted Meredith’s kids as family and that Link’s Mom called Amelia her daughter-in-law and said she considered her part of the family.  

I really loved the Amelia and Link scenes this episode. They were great! They were emotional and sexy and fun and silly and heartbreaking all at once. I'd like to see them get married, but not because his Mom keeps pushing it or because they find out that Maggie and Winston are engaged, but because they feel it's right for them. Link is at that place, but Amelia isn't and I don't want to see her jump into something because of outside pressure. She's done that before, and it always ends badly.

I really appreciate that the series is actively addressing Amelia's addiction and what it's like to live with that. Addiction is a lifelong battle, a chronic illness of sorts, and it is not a one and done deal. Amelia and Link don't have a lot of story options available to them because of Meredith's COVID storyline this season so I like that they are taking the opportunity to explore that more. I liked the comparison to her relationship with Owen where Link said I love you and I want to marry you, but I'm not Owen so I'm not here for the drama and if us getting married could cause you to relapse then we should wait. Link proposing and Amelia shouting no at him especially when he was shirtless made me laugh! I’m always here for shirtless Link!

I also really Jackson and Mama Ortiz’s storyline. They addressed a real issue in that sometimes people try to help because they feel moved or called to do so, but their band aid fix creates more problems long term than they solve. I like that Jackson got what Ortiz was saying and that he called her at the end of the episode and asked for her ideas for how they could use his money to really help people in their community long term. I love the actress who plays her and I'm excited that she’s getting more screen time.

I loved seeing Tom back in action! His lines in the trauma room were great! Bailey had some great scenes this episode as well. They're focusing more on the characters I really like or find interesting in the second half of the season so I'm really enjoying that. I had a few favourite scenes this episode. I loved the moment where Meredith woke up and Richard said, "Hey there, sleepy head," and Meredith said she was sorry he had to put her on a ventilator because she knows how hard that must have been for him and he said he'd do it again. And then Meredith said, "I'm glad I chose you." I love their father daughter relationship and that scene warmed my heart. I also really liked Teddy's line about the tea. That's a meme waiting to happen.

Onto next week’s promo! We see Jackson running by a Black Lives Matter protest which puts this episode at either the end of May or the beginning of June 2020 as George Floyd, may he rest in peace, was murdered on May, 25, 2020 and protests erupted the next day and grew in size in the following weeks and months. In the promo Richard brings in a wounded protestor and tells Jackson they were marching peacefully, and Jackson appears to be treating Hayes who we know has two black biracial children.

We also see Meredith being taken into the Hyperbaric Chamber by Levi, Maggie talking a distressing phone call, and Teddy doing chest compressions which means she’s back at work. Here’s hoping that Teddy took Amelia’s advice and found a new therapist that works for her. The most intriguing part of the Promo for me is that we see Bailey, dressed in full PPE, duck into a stairwell and scream “What?!?” out loud several times. I’m curious to know what she’s screaming about. Is it good? Is it bad? Is it both? Is it something bewildering? Can’t wait to find out.

Until next time!