#see i had some others but i think they were too vague - one was related to patronising the audience but i think thats inherent in others

[nightlyrequiem]

How would Valeria deal with a significant other who is a pop star? How would the two navigate a relationship like that considering that one of them is in the spotlight?

Oh there is lots of potential for angst here.... but I have to reel myself back and keep things happy.

What an interesting dynamic too. In the real world, I feel like Popstar!Reader would be in hot water for dating such an awful person.

Valeria x Popstar!Reader

I don't see Valeria as the type to listen to pop. A few songs here and there but I think she prefers 90s rap or even dramatic classical music. She had heard some of your songs playing on the radio and liked them enough to give your name a little search. She found you pretty. You had a few scandals, as comes with the job. The music industry is cruel after all.

Maybe it was drug related, relationship drama, you being 'rude' to paparazzi even though you were only standing up for yourself. Her interest in you starts off as not much. She likes some of your music and thinks you're pretty but then she slowly starts lurking about on your socials. She doesn't follow you but she regularly checks to see if you've made a new post or a new story. Then she starts saving pictures of you. Any kind that catches her eye but a lot of them are you in more revealing outfits.

She feels frustration and jealousy whenever she sees you with friends. You posted one story where you were side hugging some guy and she was in a foul mood all day. She firmly believes that if you and her had met that she'd have a chance with you.

And meet you she did! Maybe you live in Mexico or maybe you're on tout there. Either way, by some stroke of luck you wind up in Las Almas. You were at a club, and Valeria was also at the club. The rest is history.

Valeria did in fact have a chance. Surprising to no one really. She is one fine specimen. After a few drinks you two ended up in bed together. it turned from a one night stand into something more.

It wasn't like she thought though. You're famous. You preform. You're a goddamn popstar. Which means you're on social media a lot. Which means you receive a lot of attention. You have a lot of people in your DMs. Not that you really see or answer them. There's just too many for you to do that. But Valeria sees them. You had also posted a story of the two of you cuddled up on the couch. Now everyone wants to know who she is. What she does, and she doesn't like that so much. It's not good for her line of work after all.

It's also a bit of issue for you. Cancel culture isn't real and I stand by that, but some people are unnaturally obsessive and critical of everything a celebrity (Specifically women) does. See Chappel Roan. You feel nervous that someone will somehow figure out what Valeria does for a living.

There's also the matter of you leaving constantly. Going off on trips and tours. It puts a bit of strain on the relationship. Valeria is irrationally worried that you're cheating on her. You've come to an agreement though. Every night, after every show you either call her or send her a text. Just to make sure you two are communicating. Sometimes the time zones are too different and one of you is asleep by the time the other responds but it works. You also send her videos. Of the crowds or of you in your hotel room. Sometimes though, she’ll join you. Not on stage of course but she’ll put on a hat and attend a concert or two to support you. Amazed at how monolithic you seem.

You two also decided that you won't post Valeria at all. and when you talk about her you have to be as vague as possible. For the safety of both of you.

In short, it’s kind of difficult for you two. There’s a lot of issues that need to be resolved but Valeria likes you enough to actually fix them with you.

[variousqueerthings]

this time when i do my m*ffat era rewatch will make notes of episodes I actually like because there are very good episodes in that era for sure! many of which I don't remember either, because I've only seen capaldi's run once, so that's more than due a rewatch!

thinking a criteria will be rated 0-10, with 10 being best score:

sexism rank objectification (female character is ogled/harassed/turned into a sex joke by the doctor and/or a lead we're supposed to root for and/or the camera)

sexism rank plot-point (lead female character is only there to serve plot, not to have her emotional interiority explored)

interesting complex or pointlessly complex (does the complexity serve the narrative or does it just serve to be confusing as a stand-in for smart)

(if tying into wider narrative) furthers character and/or lore and/or plot development (broader question that ties into the previous ones, at least two of these, ideally three should be fulfilled)

companion matters (the companion doesn't always have to be there, but if the companion is there, do they matter -- and overall per season how often is the companion the focus or POV of the story)

the doctor is more than just "godlike" (examines the doctor's flaws and limitations, doesn't solve a plot by having it revolve entirely around the doctor's existence)

doesn't look down on previous doctor who (by erasing or mocking its importance, by redoing and "bettering" previous beloved plotpoints or characters, etc.)

[bnhaobservation]

Todoroki family and chap 430

In case it wasn't obvious by now, I was very invested in the Todoroki family storiline and one of the things that sadden me the most about chap 430 is this image.

We've Enji, or maybe I should say Endeavor, Rei is pushing his wheelchair as he goes somewhere, we don't know where, some want to think he's visiting Touya but it's not said and, around him there are 3 men and a woman.

It's not his children, it's his sidekicks and Hawks.

The final chapter doesn't touch what happened to Natsuo and Fuyumi, we've to assume Fuyumi is happy with her work and Natsuo with his marriage.

We don't know if Touya is still alive but, anyway, he's going to die. Even if we assume he died happily he had said smiling was why they lived their lives. He could keep on living out of anger and grudge but not out of smiles and happiness?

Fuyumi has fought for all those years so hard because she wanted back her family and she basically get nothing, not her old family as Natsuo leaves and Touya dies and it's not even hinted she has a new one as it was Natsuo the one who got a girlfriend as soon as he entered university and marries her basically a year and a half later.

Natsuo is just rushedly married to this character of which we don't even know the name. We don't know if, in the end he visited Touya again or not, we don't know if he ever managed to overcome all the anger and pain he felt inside for how his father ruined the family.

Shouto became a Hero, but his mother is not with him to support him but she is with his father. We don't see his siblings around him, cheering for him. We don't know which effect had on him to reconnect with Touya only to lose him. We're only told he became a good Hero so people don't call him anymore Endeavor's son, forgetting people also looked poorly at him for being Dabi's brother. How did he overcome that? Evidently it somehow disappeared as all the first years are already all his fans and even Dai said all the kids wanted to be like Shouto... but, at the end of the day, we aren't shown Shouto having a good moment with his family, his good moments come from being a Hero and being with his friends.

Even if we assume that, despite having to marry Enji out of duty to help her family, Rei had fallen in love with Enji while their family was having a good time before he turned abusive, and now that she had forgiven him and he stopped being abusive she's glad to be back with him... skipping this was very vaguely constructed she lost 10 years in a hospital and we can't see her with her children. She's supposed to be happy being with him with one of her children dead and one of her children keeping away from his father because just being in the same room with him makes him feel bad.

Mind you, I'm not saying Natsuo should forgive Enji or force himself to be with Enji or whatever but having a person that's related to you that makes you to feel bad just by being in the same room with you so that you've to avoid that person, is not something that's good. If Enji and Rei live together and Natsuo wants to visit his mother he has to make sure to do it when his father is somewhere else. In the past Rei was split between taking care of Shouto, who couldn't be with her other children, and taking care of Touya, Fuyumi and Natsuo, with the result Natsuo felt neglected because he was very small when all this happened and needed his mother... but likely she ended up neglecting Fuyumi and Touya too because you can't be in two places at the same time. Now, instead than having to take turns with Shouto, Natsuo have to take turns with Enji.

Ad for Enji... all his atonement for what? He doesn't manage to rebuild a relation with his children, apparently his sidekicks and Hawks have replaced them, they're conveniently of the right number. His children would have gotten where they were even without his atonement because all we hear is about others helping them, he only get the cool sentence, we see nothing of his struggle. But this is also supposed to be a happy ending for him. Who care if he doesn't have his kids? He has his sidekicks and Hawks his newfound family he would have had anyway had he focused on his work only.

The story tried it's hardest to make me think he cared about his family but then I'm supposed to think he's happy not having any of the sort apart for Rei and a new found family.

Horikishi had already established in the previous chapter Enji would have his sidekicks and Hawks' support, I didn't need a reminder of that.

I needed to see THIS image at the end...

...maybe including Natsuo's girlfriend as he could have introduced her to the rest of the family... or him holding his firstborn and letting Rei see her grandchild.

I needed to see Fuyumi finding someone with whom to form a family since she can't have her own back and she wished so badly for it.

I needed to have this being shown to me...

...or at least to see Touya out of that contraption as he died in peace, a smile on his lips since happiness somehow couldn't save him but grudge could.

I needed to be told something that Enji did that HELPED his kids, that made them be better. Not something vague, I need something concrete. Even if they would never be with him, since he's supposed to atone to them, I need him to make something more than just give them a new house and pay for the bills because he'd been paying bills through all his life so that's not new.

I would have been fine with him watching them smile from a distance or hearing from Rei how they were doing and smiling.

Mind you, I'm willing to believe in Horikoshi's mind Enji now is a changed man and very sorry for what he did and loves his family and yadda yadda but there's a reason why we say 'show, don't tell' and so far Horikoshi is more interested in telling than showing.

I get that in his mind Enji is a character more important than Rei, Fuyumi, Natsuo or even Touya, I would have been fine with all that I've mentioned being shown through his perspective because he cares about his family and so he's happy if they're happy.

If, in all that talking Midoriya does about reaching out to others, what he wanted to point out was Enji had continued to reach out to help his family even if they had cut him out of their lives.

But no, the good part is that his sidekicks and Hawks are reaching out for him. Okay, I can take this as the test trying again to point out Enji will never be a Hero, in the end he's not the one reaching out but the one others have to reach out to help but, again, it was established in the past chapter so I didn't need a reminder and it kind of steps all over his arc of trying to reach out for his family.

In the end the most he does is to just take it when they want to yell at him and let them live the live they want... I do think it's a great thing if an abuser were to realize what he had done to his victims and try to atone. It's kind of a miracle turned true... but there's just too little of it in this story.

Maybe I'm missing some deep cultural context, maybe Enji is doing something AMAZING for his family that Horikoshi thought he didn't need to show because it's obvious to Japanese readers but... but I wish he had shown it. Instead the moment Enji finally stop being a Hero and could do something for his family, the manga ends with his family disregating but I'm supposed to see it as a happy ending.

I prefer it had just been called a sad ending. Bad things happen, I can stomach them but honestly "Ano Hana" makes a much better work at portraying grief and atonement and the same goes for "Koe no katachi".

Horikoshi knew he was selling this manga also to foreign readers. I'm not saying he should have made his manga thinking to them but, if this atonement arc was so important, maybe he should have made it more understandable for us as well. This makes the diffference between a national mangaka and an international one.

[lazycats-stuff]

Jeason todd x Wednesday Addams male reader please

Sure thing anon. Any sort of inaccuracies are on me, it's been a while since I watched any movie or anything related to the Addams family. The gif is also just (Y/N) and Jason. Who is who, it's up to you to decide.

Summary: Jason is dating an Addams.

Warnings: Addams family stuff and everything else.

Jason is happy. Very happy too, he couldn't say he wasn't. He has met (Y/N) Addams and the two have been dating for about 6 months and have been happy. In their own ways of course.

They met randomly in a coffee shop and exchanged numbers. Jason thought that (Y/N) was cute and adorable, but had something else underneath that exterior. The first time they met, they have talked about murder.

Jason thought that (Y/N) was just a true crime enthusiast. Oh he had no idea how wrong he was, but that would come later. Jason's family didn't know just yet and (Y/N) gave his family some vague answers. The two met at a dark park, per (Y/N)'s request.

Jason was slightly scared, but (Y/N) simply said that he loves the dark. Jason also noted that (Y/N) loved wearing all black clothes. (Y/N) has made a comment during the date that he was allergic to color, expect for black and white.

Jason was fine with it, but found it weird. But has never said anything about it out loud. Maybe he just doesn't like color. That is okay. Damian similar like that so that doesn't strike him as odd. But saying that he is allergic? That was a little bit odd.

Either way, the date very well. Extremely well. Jason was happy that he is going to see (Y/N) again. (Y/N) also felt like the date went well and told his family about Jason. Everyone was excited to meet him and Jason was thinking about telling his family.

On one hand, they would be happy for him, however, they would probably scare him off... Jason was stuck in between a rock and a hard place. He will figure it out soon too. He doesn't worry about it. At all. For now at least.

The Addams family wanted to meet him as soon as possible, but didn't want to push it. Wednesday and Pugsley wanted to meet Jason. I mean, any siblings want to make sure that their sibling dating a good person. Not to mention, they have to look for red flags that the sibling couldn't see due to being in love.

After 3 months of dating, Jason told his family. Everyone was happy for him, each of them in their own way. Bruce wanted to meet (Y/N), but Jason said to give him some time to explore this a little bit more. Okay, fair enough.

Bruce warned other to not even think about looking for (Y/N). Or even investigate. They were all disappointed they couldn't, but they didn't dare to go against Bruce and Alfred. It wouldn't end well for the trio of brothers. But they had to meet (Y/N) soon.

Jason met (Y/N)'s family about six months later. He was invited to dinner. He bought roses for Morticia and a bottle of wine for Gomez. He knew that (Y/N) has a brother name Pugsley and a sister named Wednesday. They also had a butler names Lurch and a grandmother. (Y/N) also mentioned something about uncle Fester, but Jason got lost.

The first thing that made him see that (Y/N)'s family is not normal was the fact that Wednesday threw an axe in his general direction. He caught, courtesy of Bruce and his training and threw it right back at Wednesday, without even thinking.

Jason was horrified when he saw where he threw it, but Wednesday was rather impressed. His reflexes are quick and sharp, clearly looking out for danger when with his brother. Jason had no right to complain or even say anything because Damian would do this.

100%. Jason had no doubt about it.

He handed his flowers to Morticia who was happy to get the flowers and hugged Jason extremely tightly, happy to see her son dating. Jason just stood there, allowing Morticia to hug the living daylights out of him.

After she let him go with a smile and a look to (Y/N) that Jason couldn't even try to decipher, Gomez decided to challenge him to a fencing match. Jason couldn't say no, but he had a wine bottle in his hands.

Lurch took it and Jason was ready, but Morticia said that could happen later. Jason said hello to Pugsley and Wednesday and uncle Fester also came, saying that he couldn't miss meeting his nephew's boyfriend. First one too.

Jason wasn't sure what the hell was going on anymore, but wasn't complaining by any means. The house looked hunted, but the manor would look the same without Alfred. The thing that made Jason question everything was the Thing. A hand that seemingly walked on it's own.

Jason nearly passed out before composing himself. He asked everyone and (Y/N) was now worried about Jason. Oddly enough to the family, he says it's fine and just seemingly moves on. (Y/N) didn't want to question it, but has decided to ask Jason about this later.

The dinner was nice and the Addams' family tree and discussed how their family members went out. Jason was slightly concerned with the ways how they went out, but by God were they interesting ways to go.

Holy shit.

Jason enjoyed his evening there and he was sure that (Y/N)'s parents adopted him. He was 100% sure. Nobody can tell him otherwise. And he found Morticia's and Gomez's relationship completely adorable and cute. He hoped to have such relationship with (Y/N).

Now, the time came for (Y/N) to meet his family. Jason was slightly nervous and asked Alfred to keep everyone in line. Alfred did just that and Jason just loved that man.

(Y/N) made friends with Damian in first 5 minutes. Tim was interested in the stories of the way his family members went out. Damian was going to fence with Gomez and have a knife throwing match with Wednesday.

Tim wanted to hear more stories about the family members and the way they all went out, curious beyond belief. Dick was confused, but didn't say anything. Bruce listened intently and watched the way that the two interacted. Jason was making sure that he was okay and not overwhelmed, holding his hand.

(Y/N) didn't seem to mind and would even lay his head on Jason's shoulder as he talked. Bruce that they cared about one another and that's all that matters, no?

Of course, (Y/N) has brought a gift for Alfred and Bruce. A bottle of wine that has been aged for a long time and Alfred said that he is adopted as of now. (Y/N) smiled at that and Bruce could think about it.

Alfred gave (Y/N) a hug, saying that if anybody touches this wine, there will be hell to pay. Everyone swore to never touch and Alfred will store it later. When (Y/N) and Jason get married somewhere down the line, Alfred will open it then.

It will be in his toast to them.

Jason dropped (Y/N) home and gave him their first kiss in their relationship. (Y/N) and Jason were happy that night and their relationship will grow. And who knows, maybe one day the two will tie the knot and live their life together.

The two families had hoped that the two tie the knot. They looked like soulmates and had hoped that they don't break up.

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

I try to keep my reader generic but as always she is female and taller than average.

I have to say I've been a bit overwhelmed at the response to this story, I hope I can live up to your expectations.

Chapter 2

Warnings: swearing, angst, a little dirty talk. Bucky's kind of an ass, Sharon is evil.

Cookie just stared at the pictures, heart racing, almost hyperventilating. She shook her head and looked at Nick Fury "This can't be right, can it? Sharon Carter can't be working against us, can she?"

Fury looked at her, concern evident on his face. "I'd like to think it's impossible but look at what happened with Hydra. We knew that Rumlow and the strike team were on our side and it turned out the entire operation had been rotten for decades."

Cookie tried to still her hands "B B But th this, this is different. Sh Sh Sha Sharon C C Carter. SHIELD founder P Peggy Carter's niece can't be the Power Broker." She felt her stomach drop and heart stop when it clicked "Oh god, no she can't but b b but Sam and" whispered "Bucky" the color left her face and she started pacing, bouncing until Nick snapped

"COOKIE!"

Y/N jumped and turned to face her boss "Yessir?"

Nick rubbed her arms "Calm down. You're no good to me like this. Barnes and Wilson are off site with Carter, right? Where are they, exactly?"

Cookie nodded "uh yeah they're um, wait let me see." She pulled her phone out "they should be, Latvia." She exhaled and it felt like she was deflating "Where my informant was killed last night."

Fury nodded "I doubt she wants to kill Wilson or Barnes so we just need to get this info to them. You'll probably have to wait until they come home."

Cookie shook her head "But what if she kidnaps them? What if they don't come back?"

Fury shook his head "We'll cross that bridge if we get to it. I need you to compile everything you have that's even vaguely related to the Power Broker and anything you can find about Carter's movements. Let's see if we can find more links between them." He looked at his watch

"I want you in my office for lunch and we'll go over everything you have." He looked her in the eyes "Alright, Cookie? I know you're concerned about your friends but we need to keep our minds clear and focused on the facts so that we can help keep them safe."

Cookie tried to blink the tears out of her eyes and nodded "Got it, boss." before hurrying to her office by way of the break room because coffee was a dire need at this point.

She made it to her office, closed the door so no one would disturb her, turned on her music and sat down to go through every bit of Intel she had that might offer any clues. There were stacks of correspondence and photos plus some undefined amount of info on a thumb drive that she needed to work through with the only other analysts she absolutely knew she could trust, Dylan and Iris. She had trained with them and came up through Quantico where Nick Fury personally headhunted them.

Cookie didn't want to take a chance by getting too many people involved in this, after the whole SHIELD/HYDRA debacle she kept a couple of people close and everyone else could wait outside her gates until they convinced her they were trustworthy. This was huge and had 2 Avengers directly in Sharon's line of fire so had to be handled carefully.

Cookie also knew that her frayed friendship with Bucky was going to make this even more complicated because Sharon could use that to discredit her so Bucky thinks Cookie is just trying to eliminate a romantic rival.

She shook her head, no time to get distracted by emotions, her friends were in danger and that had to remain her focus. By 1pm, Cookie had synced almost all of Sharon Carter's movements with the power broker. There was no doubt, it was definitely her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the world, Sam was fed up with his mission partners. Sharon rubbed him the wrong way and Bucky was too wrapped up in her to see anything but sex. Sam had a bad feeling about Sharon, she was constantly wandering off only to be found on her phone and the Power Broker seemed to get away right before they arrived, every single time.

He tried to talk to Bucky but he just laughed it off, explaining how impossible it was for a Carter to be the bad guy. "Sam you're being ridiculous and paranoid even for a spy. Sharon is just as frustrated with our lack of progress as we are. You know sometimes this is just a waiting game." He smirked at his friend "We could find you a nice girl to pass the time with."

Sam shook his head and scoffed "A nice girl? You mean like Cookie for instance, who wouldn't try to distract me with sex like yours is doing to you."

Bucky laughed "You jealous man? I'm just making up for lost time and Cookie didn't want me." His smile dropped as he thought of her.

Sam looked at Bucky with wide eyes "Cookie didn't want you? Now we both know that's not the truth, you just got scared of the idea of a real relationship and dropped her for your living cock sleeve. You're a dumbass, Barnes."

Sam's phone buzzed with a text and he smiled when he saw it was from Cookie. She always checked up to make sure they were eating and sleeping while in the field. He looked at his texts

*<3 BeSafe*CYA*

That caught his attention. CYA= Cover Your Ass. It was their code for trouble close by which meant she found something concerning but the problem was too close to say out loud.

Bucky tried to look over his shoulder "What's that? From Cookie? You fucking her?" His voice dropped and he looked angrily at the ground "I knew she would find someone better."

Sam looked at him with disgust "The fuck is wrong with you? The only reason she might find someone better is cuz you pushed her away when you should have held on tight because you're not gonna find another one like her."

He nodded towards the hall where Sharon had gone "That one is trouble. There's something not right about all this and the way she keeps dragging you off to the bedroom."

Bucky smirked "I can't help that she's insatiable. Don't want to disappoint."

Sharon was in the other room listening to their discussion, smiling at how easily Bucky stood up for her. It was simple enough to get his attention when she came back to work with SWORD and he did all the work pushing Cookie away with his guilt. She was confident that he would take her side if that analyst bitch got too close. Sam could be a problem but nothing she wasn't prepared to handle.

She used a burner phone to send a text to her associate, the Intel analyst in D.C. to let them know she would be returning stateside soon and everything was going according to plan.

In the morning Bucky woke up in bed with Sharon's head on his bare chest and groaned. The position he was in wasn't a concern but he didn't remember going to bed or the usual activities with Sharon that followed. He couldn't remember anything past his talk with Sam, about Cookie. He didn't remember eating but he must have since it had been almost lunch time when he spoke to Sam. If he hadn't eaten he would be famished by now.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus and see if he could find any memories but all he could add was Sharon coming into the room and pulling him into their bedroom.

He looked at his watch and counted hours, he had lost almost 18 hours and couldn't figure out what happened. This wasn't the first time he had lost time on this trip and he didn't like the feeling.

Sam was right, something was off.

Sharon started to stir against him "Hey baby, look who's up before me."

Bucky smiled "Mornin baby, you sleep ok? Did we have some fancy liquor last night? I can't remember a damn thing, not even fucking you for 2 hours and I'm sure I did that."

She whined "I'm that forgettable? I thought I made you feel good." and pouted, rubbing his growing cock to distract him.

He reached between her legs to find her ready "You're always so wet and ready for me sweetheart. Tell me what you need."

Sharon moaned "I need you to fuck me, Barnes. Hard and deep. Right now."

Bucky was only too happy to oblige, the lost time forgotten in their haze of lust.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In her office Cookie and her crew worked well past lunchtime until an intern showed up from Nick's office to remind them of the passage of time.

Cookie put all of the papers and photos into a box since they hadn't had time to digitize it all and write up a comprehensive report. She went over every single detail with Nick and Maria to determine what should go in her report and which points to highlight for field agents.

The rest of the day and into the evening Cookie's team had everything organized and the details and evidence all written up in a 5 page report with back up documentation available in her files. She looked up when her phone buzzed to see it was Sam responding to her earlier text

*👍🐴☔*

She smiled knowing that Sam got it and would watch out for Bucky even if he was a dumbass.

Looking at her watch she saw it was almost midnight and noticed Iris trying to read her text before she quickly put her phone away. Iris and Dylan were her most trusted analysts but even they didn't need to know about her chatting with Sam.

She dismissed them so she could have a bit to herself to reply to Sam and include some details that they didn't have the clearance for.

A few days later when Sam, Bucky and Sharon arrived back home, Cookie was there to meet Sam and barely even acknowledged Bucky or Sharon which made Bucky act out, snapping at Sharon. Sharon was annoyed that he still cared about fucking Cookie, after all the work she had done to get him under control he was still pining for that stupid analyst. She knew something would need to be done about her soon.

Sam and Cookie walked arm in arm to medical to have him checked out, then to the common room when she had left some chili simmering for him plus fresh French bread. They took their lunch and went to his room to eat.

Cookie sat across from Sam while he talked about the mission until the food was gone and he stopped, just staring at her.

Cookie stared back "What?"

He looked at her sideways "First, I love you Cookie but you look like Hell. You're worried about me in the field but you're here looking like you haven't slept or had a decent meal in weeks."

She flinched before whispering "Closer to months."

"No, Cookie. Don't destroy yourself over a man that's too stupid to see what's right in front of him. We need you here. Nick fucking Fury insists you're the best intelligence analyst he's ever met. Ever. From the man who doesn't offer praise lightly.

I need you. I can't trust anyone else to lay all the intel out just so it flows for me. Or make sure I'm taken care of when I come back from a mission?

And his dumb ass might not know it or be willing to admit it but Barnes needs you too. He's in love with you, he just thinks he's being good and noble by pushing you away. And if he doesn't figure it out, there's plenty of other men and women that would jump at the chance to be with you. So take care of yourself."

Sam sighed "Second, I know you didn't send the CYA code for shits and giggles so tell me. What do you know?"

Cookie shifted uncomfortably "I want you to know this has nothing to do with their relationship, I didn't look to discredit her or hurt him but you know I have to follow the evidence where it leads me, without prejudice. You know I-"

Sam stopped her "I know you are impartial and I trust you and your conclusions so just spit it out and we'll go from there. Ok?"

Cookie nodded and took a deep breath before blurting out "Sharoncarteristhepowerbroker" then covering her mouth and looked at Sam with wide eyes.

Sam stopped and stared "Please tell me you didn't just say what I think you said. Tell me that she's-. Fuck." He shook his head "I know you have proof. Cookie, you have to tell Barnes."

She blinked rapidly trying to clear the tears that suddenly welled up in her eyes "Nononono, no I can't tell him. He will think I'm some disgruntled woman trying to hurt my rival. You have to tell him Sam he will never listen to me. Hell he hasn't even spoken to me outside of work ever since...."

Her eyes filled up and she tried to hold the tears back but she had been keeping it all in for so long.

Sam pulled her into his chest and sighed "Alright. Give me what you have, I'll talk to him tomorrow. And what's with all the containers of Cookies?"

Cookie shrugged "I was worried about you. Couldn't sleep. I made some of your favorites, the red velvet. The frosted ones are *special* to help you sleep."

Sam hugged Cookie and kissed her cheek "Alright babygirl, lay it out for me..." They spent the next hour going over everything she had before her eyes started drooping. "Okay Miss Cookie, go get some sleep and I'll see you at the debrief tomorrow."

Cookie gathered her paperwork and left Sam's room only to see Bucky in the kitchen. She didn't want to ignore him so nodded and grunted as she passed without slowing down. Bucky just watched her leave, wondering what she was doing in Sam's room so late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After their run the next morning Sam and Bucky sat down for coffee. Sharon told Bucky she wanted to sleep in so Sam figured now was the time.

Bucky started in on him before he even spoke "What's up with you and Cookie? You are fucking her aren't you? I saw her leave your room early this morning. Don't fucking lie to me jerk."

Sam brushed him off, "None of your damn business."

He tried to change the subject and explain about Sharon but Bucky didn't respond well

"What the fuck do you mean Sam? Sharon is not the goddamn power broker, that's ridiculous, her aunt was a founder of SHIELD. Where did you get your Intel from?" Sam looked at him pointedly, like there was any other person who Sam trusts completely.

Bucky shook his head angrily and stood up to head to Cookies office. "I can't believe you fell for it Sam. She's just trying to get Sharon back because she is with me. I turned her down for a relationship so she wants to hurt me back. Sharon warned me that she would try to pull something like this."

Sam stood up and grabbed Bucky's arm "Are you kidding me? You think Cookie would put her career and reputation on the line for petty jealousies? That she would ruin Sharon's reputation for revenge, over you? I guess you don't really know her after all." He shook his head "I'm disappointed in you man. I thought better of you. Good luck confronting Cookie, she's not interested in your shit."

Cookie was at her desk making packets with the Intel on the power broker for the top brass when Maria stopped by.

"Hows everything, Cookie? Got that power broker packet for me?"

Cookie nodded "It's right here." and reached out with a folder.

Maria noticed her hands "Cookie? What happened to your nails? When was the last time you had a mani-pedi? Is your girl sick?" She looked over Cookies hands in concern, she never missed her nail appointment.

Cookie shrugged "I don't know, I forgot. It's no big deal."

Maria looked closer "You look like Hell. Finish the packets up and take the afternoon off, you need-"

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

Chapter 3

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes

[sensorydephrivation]

Amatonormative assumptions and the language of a hard launch: a rambly DnP essay thing

I have a lot of Discourse Thoughts about hard launching and all that, but there’s not much I can say that hasn’t already been said. This fandom is one that generally has significant representation on both sides of any major issue; any take you look for you can find someone genuinely believing. What I am interested in analyzing is how some people are insistent, whether or not they want it to happen or believe it will happen, that they haven’t Hard Launched, and others are equally insistent that they have. Because on the surface those should be completely contradictory takes, but a large amount of people believe each to be true.

I’ve seen posts making comparisons to PJ and Sophie, and I definitely think that’s a useful tool because it brings up the real question here: how do we speak about romantic and platonic relationships, and what underlying assumptions are at play when we use or don't use certain words?

Firstly, this issue is obviously mostly to entirely due to homophobia. Why do people assume PJ and Sophie are a couple just because they live together, even though they've never used the words? Because they're a man and a woman. Why couldn't DnP be publicly open about their relationship back in the day? Because they're gay. I'm not going to spend too much time on this point because it's obvious, but I feel like it's important to remember that Dan and Phil's relationship wasn't some Great Secret for no reason. They weren't no-homo-ing because of privacy or whatever, but because they weren't yet ready to face the immense challenges being publicly out sticks you with, especially in the early 2010s. If homophobia wasn't a thing, everything else I'm going to say in this post would still be true, but it would all be significantly less charged. Just remember that gay marriage wasn't legal in the UK when DnP met each other, and that 2000s pop culture overall was routinely, openly, virulently homophobic. Just keep that in mind. (Also, everything I talk about in this post refers to 2019 onwards, after they came out. I wasn't around for the no-homo era and can't speak on it. I'm also not going to be talking about the speculation around their relationship, because that's been talked about so much. It definitely is a factor in all of this, but you know that already)

Onto the main point of this post. The reason DnP haven't "hard launched" (that term itself is incredibly vague, but its popular meaning in this fandom seems to be explicit confirmation of a romantic relationship, which is how I'm using it here) while also having clearly done so is because their use of language does not line up with conventional expectations of how language around romantic and platonic relationships should be used.

The concept of "dating" as we think of it today is relatively recent, and language around it is even newer. The terms "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" only became prominent in the mid- to late- 20th century, and it took a while for them to gain the connotation (of almost always meaning a romantic relationship) that they have today. And yet people have still had romantic relationships for forever! How these things were described would depend on the society's norms around marriage and sex and often on the exact social dynamic of the couple. Today, we think we're better than all that and can find words for anything.

I'm no expert on what makes a relationship romantic vs platonic or even how to define those terms. I find it hard to define the concept of romance in a way that doesn't bring with it centuries of heteronormative amatonormative assumptions. And boy are there assumptions. (No, people who live together for life do not have to be romantically involved, that's a silly thing to believe.) When people see a relationship that lines up or does not line up with those assumptions, they expect it to have a clean, simple label. But the words we used for romantic relationships outside of marriage, due to how new they are, are completely not simple!

While these days they seem to be the most "unambiguous" terms to describe a romantic relationship, "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" are essentially euphemisms that can seem infantilizing and demeaning of the seriousness of a relationship. It's easy to see how they aren't for everyone, even if many people are fine using them for serious committed relationships. "Partner" is kind of ambiguous on purpose, thought like bf and gf, I think it's on its way to becoming a word with mainly romantic connotations. The term "significant other" is out of fashion these days, but just like bf, gf, and "partner," it's basically a euphemism that doesn't mean much in and of itself. We have no words to describe an unmarried romantic couple that aren't on some level unclear or unindicative of the actual nature of the relationship.

Dan and Phil have acknowledged that they were once in a romantic relationship, have made many many jokes about having sex with each other, and are committed life partners. On some level, you can take the combination of these things as a very clear confirmation of a current romantic relationship, which many do. Yes, this requires making a few assumptions, but they aren't the craziest assumptions in the world. In fact, as one can see from the PJ and Sophie example, they are assumptions that are often normal and expected to be made in social situations. So why do so many others not see it this way?

Well for one, we are a mostly queer community that understands the complexity of queer relationships and how these assumptions do not get applied equally. We see how these assumptions are often used against queer people to devalue their identities, especially those on the ace-aro spectrum and/or in queerplatonic relationships. We also are an extremely online community, familiar with the complicated layers of discourse around RPF and shipping, and hesitant to make assumptions in a way that could potentially damage relationships or invade someone's privacy.

But honestly? It's because DnP don't call themselves boyfriends. They don't explicitly frame their activities in romantic ways (e.g. call things dates). The terms they use and jokes they make, even in 2024, are not the sort of things we expect from the set of assumptions that go with a committed romantic relationship. (This is also where the discourse about whether or not they're open/poly comes from, but that's a topic for another day.)

The Date Night video stretches this to its absolute max. The game is full of cards about kissing and other things that fit cleanly into the set of romantic relationship assumptions, but they didn't use any of those cards. They only used things that were ambiguous, and tried to downplay the romantic implications as much as possible aside from the lampshading of it at the start of the video ("this is a great game to play with your best buddy as well" "phil says no homo" as well as the entire "ugh i can't believe they send us this" tone of the intro). The use of "partner" in this video is the clearest example of this. The game uses this word exclusively- after all, it's a standard, accepted, gender-neutral word for people in a romantic relationship. Phil confidently reads it off the card, with the "I don't care which set of assumptions this assigns us" attitude that's been prevalent over the past year and past few months especially. Dan avoids it half the time, and at the end of the video, seems to clearly mock the term, saying it in a silly voice and then comparing it to how stereotypical cowboys use the word. This stuck out to me; it made it very noticeable that they don't use that word at least in videos, and made me think about the connation of the word they do use-- "friend." That term, unlike any of the words I've mentioned so far, implies literally nothing. "Friends" can be people with a barely positive relationship or people with an incredibly meaningful relationship they center their life around. With no other qualifiers, it also implies that the people in question don't have a romantic relationship (are "just friends"), or even (because of amatonormativity) that their relationship is not especially deep or meaningful.

Dan and Phil have defined their relationship in quite a few ways-- or rather, Dan has, in BIG and in his interviews for WAD. These quotes circulate on here constantly as people discuss the meaning of them. I'm not really interested in talking about those as they've already been talked to death. I do think it's worth noting that we only get these things from Dan-- the one time Phil has ever spoken on his "current dating life" it was just to say "I don't want to talk about that, the door is closed." Obviously some of this is because the interviewers were pushy, but also I'm sure Dan enjoys his elaborate poetic metaphors enough to not be able to shut up about them haha. (Very unrelated but I wonder if this will come up if they end up doing interviews for TIT?) The thing is, these definitions show a deep, meaningful, complex, committed relationship. They include directly romantic terms like "husbands," "soul mates," and "normal gay relationship." You would think being willing to call someone your husband, even with a million other words around it, would mean you wouldn't have a problem calling them your partner, right? Yet these words do not reflect the language they use when speaking about each other in videos!

There are times when they say "friend" "buddy" or "mate" in a clearly humorous, ironic way, and seem aware that it isn't a term that makes people think of a committed, long term relationship. Other times, they use the word as if it is a fully accurate descriptor of their relationship-- in the glue story, Dan jokes about being ashamed to be seen as "the friend of the glue guy," and in How Phil Nearly Died, he quotes himself telling the hospital staff he is looking for "my friend." I use the hospital stories as examples because they are high-stakes (or seemingly high-stakes in the case of the glue story) situations and examples of how other people in their real lives perceive them. The way they choose to tell these stories to the internet is one in which the fact that a random hospital worker would likely interact differently with Dan if he was Phil's friendly roommate as opposed to his life partner doesn't matter. In other words: if they actually do call each other "friends" irl around strangers, those strangers probably have a very different impression of their relationship than we do. Their consistency in describing themselves doing so just means that they want to consistently use the term "friends" in their videos, not that they actually do that in real life. But to a viewer who is unsure about their relationship status, the fact that they are clearly life partners, no matter platonic or romantic, but in all situations opt for a word that does not imply that seems to be confirmation that their relationship is not clearly romantic, or at least that they don't want to refer to it as such.

If I have to draw a conclusion from all this, it's that DnP consider their relationship very complex and unusual (ymmv on if it is, lol) and have had to deal with a ridiculous level of scrutiny about it nonetheless. Again, Phil has almost never spoken on this, but Dan clearly dislikes any descriptor that carries with it a sense of assumptions about the nature of the relationship, hence why he uses like fifty contradicting ones or strange metaphors instead. "Friend" carries with it no assumptions. You can be "friends" and be in a romantic relationship-- plenty of people say "I married my best friend." But our society considers romantic relationships to be more meaningful and important than platonic ones. People assume that if you are in a romantic relationship, you would want to describe your relationship exclusively using terms that carry that set of assumptions, because that is the most important part about it. I honestly think Dan is being quite subversive in refusing to do so.

I have no idea if or when this will ever change, but I hope I've given enough context for those who are convinced they've already hard launched to understand why others are still waiting, and for those who don't think they have to understand why the issue is more complicated than it seems. This topic has fascinated me ever since I first started watching them, and I hope this post can help people reach a bit more of a understanding, rather than inciting more discourse.

[whxre-bxby]

I think it’s okay to take plots aslong as you don’t have everything word from word, I know the very popular one is the jake sullys daughters x miles quaritch

Okay, this is based on a previous request someone made for this scenario, so here you are :)

"Forbidden But Desired"

Recom Quaritch x f. Human Y/N

(Based off a fanfiction on AO3 called "Forbidden Fruit Tastes The Sweetest")

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/N is in Spider's position) Quarithc captures you and finds out you are the daughter of the man whose memories and DNA he has. Being the only person he feels any emotions too, Miles can't help but have you to himself.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Non-con, somnophilia, indirect incest in a way?, penetration, unprotected sex, size-difference, age-gap, use of 'daddy',

Word Count: 4383

A/N: Sorry I'm so slow with uploading. I'll finish off the current requests, then I'll see if I even re-open them. Thank you for all the kind support though, it makes me really happy that so many people enjoy reading my work. Apology up ahead if this smut seems 'half-assed', I used to be more passionate about this

The room was cold. It was something you’d never seen or been in before. Even the lab back at home was not as cold and quiet as this. You could hear your own thudding heartbeat and every breath you took. The silence scared you. 

Yesterday, the worst thing to probably ever happen to you happened. You were taken from your family. The Sully’s. When the humans left Pandora, you were left behind because you were just a toddler. Born here, you stayed here. Now, of course, it had been many many years since your biological parents had died. You found out at the age of 15 that the man responsible for this was, Miles Quaritch, was your father. But you felt nothing towards him and while hearing that definitely disturbed you, you weren’t upset by his death. In fact, you felt relieved he was gone. And you were ready to spend the rest of your life proving that you are nothing like him. Now, a few years later, the information has settled in and you’ve managed to work past it psychologically. Just because you’re related by blood does not mean you have his intentions. In fact, being related to him makes you more passionate about protecting Pandora from others like him. But as one of the few humans left on this planet, that would be difficult. You’re a ‘big girl’ now, as Jake says when he talks about your responsibilities. He trusts you fully and raised you along with his kids. They are family to you. 

But a few months back, the Sky People were sighted again and we knew they were back. Hiding was currently our only option. Perhaps they had different intentions this time?

That thought died down the second a group of Avatars found you, Lo’ak, Tuk and Kiri in the forest. They must have come from the humans because of their clothes. They spoke English too. Their Na’vi was broken and hard to understand. 

While trying to escape, you fell. You can’t remember what happened but you have vague memories of being carried by the Avatar who seemed to be leading the group. Then you woke up here, all alone. Your toes felt cold and your spine sent a shiver through you as you retreated into a corner of the room. 

The Avatar from before had come into your room a few times already. He introduced himself and you refused to talk to him. You barely even looked at him. But when he told you his Avatar had the memories of the person you hated the most: Miles Quaritch; you couldn’t help but stare up at him in disbelief. Examining his features, you were quick to realise that he really did look like your so-called father. His presence intimidated you and you didn’t know how to feel about him. He didn’t seem like a threat to you. Your instincts weren’t ringing the alarm bells. You knew he wasn’t a good person, but there seemed to be some kind of string attaching the two of you. One that you both refused to acknowledge or act on. 

Quaritch would tell himself he’s being all nice to you because he’s trying to get information out of you through manipulation. You would tell yourself that you hate him and that he’s just as bad as the human version, but somehow, deep down you asked yourself whether he could be different. 

Miles was gentle with you, restraining himself from raising his voice when he questioned you and you would stay quiet. He started to bring you your food, hoping it would help you gain trust towards him. But he hated himself for trying to train you like some dog. Compared to him, you were a tiny creature. ‘A delicate little girl’ he thought, often finding himself admiring your features. Most of them were your mothers which seemed to only draw him more to you. 

He also seemed surprised that you had grown so much. It obviously made sense because he knew that many years had passed since the war, but you were hardly the little girl he had so few memories of. You were almost a fully grown woman and he wished he could be proud of himself for it, but he knows he had no part in your life until perhaps now. 

Today, things took a big turn. You lost track of time, not knowing whether you were sleeping through the days and crying during the nights or the other way around. It had been too long since you had seen the natural daylight or felt the fresh breeze of the wind. Being inside this awful room was so still and dead, it oftentimes made you feel ill. 

You sat curled up in the same corner once more. Miles had visited you during the morning, giving you your food and water. While you slowly ate the dry food, he tried to talk to you about things that weren’t related to his mission. He was asking about you. But not because he needed it for work, but because he cared. Miles realised he cared about you on Day 3 when Ardmore had suggested to just ‘get rid’ of you because you weren’t cooperating. Not even her tortuous methods worked on you. The thought of that happening made him panic inside and he managed to persuade her to give him more time. Though he wasn’t sure exactly how much time he was getting for you, he knew he would rather disobey her orders and ‘set you free’ in the forest instead of leaving you in her hands. 

He didn’t feel like your dad and he knew very well you didn’t accept being his daughter, but there was a deep emotional connection between the two of you that neither of you have with anyone else. Miles has been left to himself since he was brought back as an Avatar. Everything had constantly been strictly professional and work-related. 

You are the only personal thing he has in his life. The one person he feels he can let his guard down in front of. The only real person he actually seems to enjoy being around. Also, the only person he misses when he’s alone and not in your room. 

This is why he was spending his evening behind the mirrored glass, watching you softly cry in your little corner. You couldn’t see him because the glass only showed your reflection but he was there and he felt guilty for leaving you in such a state. You had been showered, cleaned and fed. But you weren’t happy and he could clearly see that. Miles knows he shouldn’t care as much as he does, but he can’t help himself. Something inside him longs for you and makes him want to protect you, even if it’s against his own people. He often feels like he needs to protect you from himself. After all, he’s the reason you ended up here. He knows he’s causing you your suffering, so he tries to think of ways to reduce it.

The large automatic door opens and he steps inside. You hold your breath, glancing up at him and holding back your tears. It annoys you when others see you at your most vulnerable. You don’t like feeling small, but oddly enough you don’t seem to care about that around Miles. His presence affects you differently. Almost as if you feel safe enough to cry and relax in his presence. Something your logical mind would clearly say no to. 

He gazes down at your small figure. His sad eyes take pity on you. 

“Come with me.” he says. The words were meant to be spoken as an order, but instead, his voice grew soft and became oddly comforting. 

You stand up, not thinking twice about his words. Anything to leave this room. He seems pleased with your sudden cooperation so he leads the way, making sure you’re close by. There’s no need to handcuff you or restrict you in any other way. He can catch you in seconds if you attempt to run away. You yourself know you don’t stand a chance. 

Quaritch leads you to a secluded hallway and uses a cyber key to unlock a door. The frame fits his size so you assume it’s made for Avatars. His large blue hand pushes the door open before his eyes glance back at you, silently telling you to go inside. 

You listen, slowly walking inside and looking around once he switches the light on. It’s his room.

“I’m not gonna let them treat you like some kind of animal.” he says, clearly seeming angered at the thought of that. 

“You did..” You reply, turning around. Your English isn’t at its best because you normally speak Na’vi. But you manage. 

He seems affected by your words and his eyes lower in disappointment. 

“Not anymore.” he says, promising that to you and to himself. 

“They don’t get te’ have you anymore.” 

His words confuse you. 

“But you do?” I ask, wondering what changed in his head to make him suddenly almost hide me with him. 

He doesn’t answer that. Miles doesn’t know how to. But he knows that if anyone gets you it's him. He has a reason for you to belong to him. You are emotionally connected and he’s the one that captured you. It only makes sense. But to tell you his thoughts won’t happen. You’re too pure to be told that you’re being kept by him. Words won’t tell you, but you’ll find out soon enough anyway. Perhaps through actions. 

His room was split in two. The bedroom and what you assumed to be a bathroom. He pointed you towards the bed. You haven’t seen anything like it before but by looking at it, you could tell it’s soft, so you obeyed him and lay down. 

He watched you settle down for a few moments, noting how innocent you were. Nothing about climbing into his bed seemed wrong or even slightly uncomfortable to you. He knows it’s because you live differently than he does, but it amuses him. You lay down so willingly, almost tricking him into wanting to lay down with you. 

Quaritch managed to push his thoughts away, leaving you alone in the room as the bathroom door shut behind him. You didn’t mind anything at this point. You were just happy to not be cold and uncomfortable anymore. 

Time seemed to fly by because of how comfortable you felt, wrapped in this large blanket.

You heard the same door from before creek open and Quaritch stepped back into the room. He changed clothes or rather removed some. But seeing him without a shirt on didn’t really faze you. After all, that’s how you’ve always seen all Na’vi. But Miles had much more muscle mass. You could probably stare at his torso all day if you had the chance. The feeling confuses you because you don’t do that, ever.

He walks up to the side of the bed, peering down at you once more. The sight comforts his cold heart. You look happy which means he’s managed to help you in a way. 

You’re on the brink of falling asleep when you feel the mattress dip next to you as Quaritch lays himself down. The blanket is all around you which makes him chuckle. 

“You can’t have it all, you gotta share, princess.” he grins, looking over to you. You open your eyes and look at him, not understanding what he means. So to help you out, he pulls the blanket from you which makes you frown. An expression that amuses him further. 

“No.” you whine, trying to grab it back. 

“Don’t worry, it’s big enough for both of us, kid.” he chuckles lowly. The blanket is now on him but you’re too far away for it to reach you. 

“I want it back.” you plead, watching his eyes study you while he grins. Instead of responding with words, he lifts up a corner of the blanket and smirks at you, as if he were saying that you must lay there to get it. 

You stay still for a few moments. Your mind is loading. But Quaritch isn’t feeling that patient today. It’s his room, his rules, so he reaches for you and pulls your right against him so that your back is pressed against his chest. 

“What are you-” 

“Sleepin’ in my bed comes with terms and conditions, sweet’eart.” he replies in his gruff, sleepy voice. 

His large, heavy hands wrap around you, making it impossible for you to leave. But oddly, you don’t want to. His body warmth comforts you and you start to relax your tensed body.

Your eyes grow heavy and before you know it, you’re asleep. 

Miles feels your soft breath fan against his arm and he feels like he’s cradling a kitten. You’re so small and beautiful to him, he knows he must be careful having you around him. 

Being so close to you makes him realise how good you smell and how soft your skin and hair are. You just look so inviting, he’s having a hard time falling asleep. Instead, his heartbeat is starting to pick up speed, involuntarily riling him up. In the back of his head, he doesn’t feel wrong for handling you like this. Taking advantage of your innocence doesn’t seem that wrong to him right now. He would never hurt you, but he’s done worse than this, so it doesn’t seem to faze him. Especially when the slowly building arousal is starting to badly influence his common sense. 

You’re so close to him and you’re his. He has a right to be with you. You belong to him. Why shouldn’t he be able to explore and use what’s his?

His thoughts go wild as he starts to hesitantly imagine all the things he could do to you. You’re just laying there, so relaxed and available for him, he can’t just say no. He slowly unwraps his hands from around you, keeping his eyes trained on your body to make sure you’re still asleep. 

When you don’t move, he tells the guilty part of him that you want this. Even though he knows he’s fully taking advantage of your size and innocence, he’s too worked up to let this go. His shorts feel tight around him and his growing erection, but he doesn’t focus on that just yet. He wants to see you for you before he focuses on himself. 

They didn’t change you out of your Na’vi clothes, so most of your skin is exposed to Miles anyway. His hands move your hair to the side, exposing your back and the small strings keeping your chest piece attached. 

His heart is now racing. He can’t believe what he’s doing but he won’t stop. Not with you looking so pretty in his bed.

Quaritch props himself up on one elbow, while his free hand gently traces your body, running from your shoulder, along your side and to your hips.

He leans forward, massaging the soft flesh of your hip before pressing his lips against your warm skin. His eyes close and he inhales deeply, not being able to get enough of the way you smell. Then, Miles pulls away, kissing you up to your shoulder blade. You’re so soft he feels the urge to just grab you and sink his teeth into your flesh but luckily for you, he doesn’t. Knowing you will probably shy away if you’re awake, Miles decides to explore you further by himself so that he can take his time toying with you instead of having to hold you down and keep you quiet. 

Carefully, he slides the blanket off the both of you and sits up to properly look at you. He starts to fumble with the strings of your top, untying them and watching them loosely drape around your back. Miles’ large hand then finds your shoulder and he gently pulls you to him and turns you onto your back. He can’t wait much longer so he takes one string in between his fingertips and lifts your chest piece up, gently pulling it from your calmy sleeping body. 

He draws a deep breath to stay composed while his darkened eyes drink in your bare chest. Such a pretty young thing you are, fully on display to him and only him. 

He wants to devour you and drag his tongue and lips over every inch of your body, but he can’t risk waking you up just yet. He needs to see more before he can start touching you. 

Miles slowly moves onto his knees, sitting by your legs. You’re wearing a loincloth like all other Na’vi. Something he hated before, not liking how they imprinted their culture on you. But now, he was almost thankful you weren’t covered in human clothes from head to toe. 

He takes the material covering your crotch at the front and lifts it up to reveal that you aren’t actually bare underneath. You’re wearing something similar to panties except out of their woven fabric. Miles ignores the small beads and pattern of your loincloth and just hooks his fingertips under the sides of your waistband and slowly pulls it down your legs, teasing himself. 

Once he lays eyes on your bare cunt Miles groans, struggling to stick to his plan of just looking. He knows now that he won’t be able to just admire you. He needs you for himself. 

God, you’re just so beautiful he can’t help himself. His large hands gently wrap around your legs, parting them to fully expose your pussy to his predatory eyes. What a pretty little thing you’ve grown to be. 

You look so tasteful, Miles has to touch you. His fingers trace an outline around your pussy, watching a small shiver overcome your body in your sleep.

‘So sensitive’ he thinks, wondering whether you’ve ever done anything sexual with someone before. But judging by the way your body seems to eagerly be responding to his smallest touches, he concludes that you really are as innocent as he thought. It also means he needs to approach this with a gentle hand, not to scare or hurt you. 

His fingertip slips between your folds, gently massaging you while watching your reactions. You’re still asleep but your breathing seems to occasionally change patterns. Your warmth has Miles feeling excited to feel it around him, whether that will even end up working. He had to stretch you out for him first, knowing he could hurt you if he didn’t.

His fingertip continues to gently flick over your clit, rubbing you along your slit until he feels the flesh give in and he reaches your hole. Slowly, Miles starts to push his finger into you and a deep growl rumbles through his chest when he feels the slick start to form inside you. But you’re still so tight, which he loves but he knows he must relax your muscles to make this pleasurable for you. You're his little girl after all, he can’t have you crying in pain underneath him. 

It’s his job to care of you.

He starts to work you open for him, gently pushing two fingers into you now. Miles lowers his head closer to you, noticing that your slick has started to seep out of your tiny hole. His fingers have spread it all over your pussy until it is now glistening and shiny, making his mouth water. He must taste you, to confirm you’re really his. His mouth has to explore and experience his girl. 

He uses his tongue to pleasure you and take away the slightly uncomfortable feeling his fingers may be creating inside you. Miles’ eyes stay trained on your face as he peers up at you. You’re still asleep which amazes him. 

Once your pussy has managed to engulf his third fingers, Miles can’t wait anymore. That’ll do. He keeps your legs resting open for him while he pulls his loose pants down to his mid-thigh, finally freeing his aching erection. He knows he won’t fit all of him into you. You’re too delicate and small, but anything will do for him at this point. 

He wants to guide you through this experience because he knows you have no idea about these kinds of things. 

Seeing himself as your closest person, he feels he has the right to be your first. To take away the virginity you were born with, and lead you through this step of becoming a woman. To ‘break you in’. 

He reaches down, wrapping his hand around his shaft before pressing his tip against your heat. Miles hears you sigh in your sleep and your head turns to the other side, but your eyes stay closed.

He starts to rub himself against you, covering himself in your sweet wetness while letting his precum drizzle down onto your pussy. A shiver of excitement runs up his spine when he imagines how he’ll fill you up with his cum and permanently mark you as his. So that when he is finished with you, you’ll still be stained with his scent, making everyone who ever crosses you know that he claimed you. 

With that thought, he starts to slowly apply pressure to your hole, gently pressing his tip against it until he feels it give way and start to let him in. Once his tip is almost in, he lets go of himself and positions himself above you. Your eyebrows are furrowed and your breathing has quickened, but you don’t seem to be awake just yet, so he continues to push himself into you. 

He sharply inhales when he feels how tightly you’re squeezing him, but he can’t stop. Fuck it feels too good. His hips involuntarily buck forwards and he forces himself inside you until his tip hits your cervix. His eyes are closed in bliss, cherishing the feeling of being so close to you. 

A small whimper makes Miles open his eyes and he meets your confused eyes, slowly waking up. You rub your eye, glancing around the room before looking up at him. He can see that you have no idea what is happening yet, so he slowly withdraws his throbbing length from inside you before pushing back inside. You clench your jaw, sucking in a pained breath and gasping.

“What’s happening?” You ask, trying to sit up but Quaritch restricts you from doing so by hovering over you. He dips his head down to your neck, placing soft kisses along your warm skin. 

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re in good hands.” He whispers, starting to rhythmically move his hips against yours. Your mouth is parted in surprise. You feel him deep inside you and it‘s so unexpected, you don‘t know how to react. 

“Miles-“ you whisper in a shaky voice, not sure whether you should ask him what he’s doing, whether to stop or why you weirdly don’t hate it. 

“Shh, let me take care of you.” He whispers, nipping at your neck with his fangs while he continues to gently thrust in and out of you. 

“Daddy’s little girl” he hums into your ear. “Be good and stay still for me.”

Your small hands go up to grip his shoulders and you give him an experimental push but Miles won’t budge even a bit. So instead, you hold on to him, but you’re not sure why. 

One of his hands snakes down between your bodies and he starts to toy with your clit again, watching your confusion and pleasure mix. The stretch of him hurt you but somehow, that made it feel nice. 

“How’s that feel, sweet’eart?” He asks, continuing to massage you with his rough hands. 

Your innocent eyes find him while you try to think of an answer. 

“Good…” you whisper, wondering whether he might stop now but Miles doesn’t. 

“Mhm,” he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Do you know what I’m doin’?” He asks and his voice sounds gruff. 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Makin’ you mine.” 

His words make you feel more excited and Miles notices this when your pussy clenches around him. A smirk appears on his face as he continues to drive himself into you. He realises your tight muscles are finally easing around him so he quickens his pace, seeming happy that your body has accepted him inside you. 

“M’ gonna fill you up, baby.” He grunts, starting to slowly lose control of his steady pace. Your stomach feels fuzzy and it makes you spread your legs further, hoping it will make the good feeling stay. It does. Miles instantly receives your invitation and starts to rut himself into you

You hum in pleasure, not feeling too bad about this. Jake was a father to you. You barely knew this man, so it didn’t seem that wrong to you. Miles however knew some part of this was wrong, but he wasn’t related to you biologically, only through memories. 

His fingers rub rough circles over your clit and you gasp before the bubble inside you bursts. Your body trembles and your muscles spasming around Miles help him over the edge and into bliss. His biceps and core muscles flex as he shoots his cum inside you, thrusting a few more times to make sure he’s stuffed you full with it as much as possible. 

Once he starts to calm down, Miles takes a little pity on your small figure. He knows he took advantage of you, but he won’t dwell on it too much now. Instead, he lays himself down next to you, rotating your body with him so that you're both lying against each other and on your sides like before. He keeps himself halfway inside you to prevent his cum from dripping out of you. You need to stay full until morning. Then at least, he can replace the last load with a fresh one. Fill you up until your womb is full of him and until you can’t walk anymore. Maybe he’ll do this to you every night, just to make sure it’s clear to you and to Jake if he meets you again, that you belong to Quaritch and no one else.

Tag List: @ken-dala @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @numarusworld @number1gal @jatwow

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Twelve)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5,900

Warning: smut, love making, unprotected sex, cream pie, surprises, language, multiple rounds, p in v, domestic 💚💚💚

A/N: I can't believe this is finally completed!! Thank you so much for coming along with me on the journey!! Ahh it was so much fun to write!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

“Be good for your grandma and grandpa!” You told Kiko as you gently stroked her hair back. “Nana and Papa will pick you up for a week so the two of you can spend time with them.”

“Okay, Mommy! I'll be good!”

You planted kisses all over your beautiful daughter's face, watching her cheeks flush before she hugged you tight. This was the first trip you took without your babies, so of course, you got as many kisses as possible before leaving them with your parents for two weeks. While you were kissing Kiko, Suguru handed off Satoshi to his mother, who snuggled the baby to the point that he exploded into giggles—hearing your baby boy's laughter and your attention towards your mother-in-law. You wanted to do nothing more than him, but before you had a chance, your husband wrapped his arm around you, pulling you back towards the car.

“Be good, your grandparents will call you later. We love you.”

“Bye-bye, mommy! Bye-bye Daddy! Love you bunches!”

Seeing your children on the porch waving, you both need your heartbreak. You had wanted to bring them with you on this trip, but Suguru insisted it would be easier for you to go by yourselves. Seeing that he had been hired by an elderly couple to work on a painting, it was more of a work-related trip than a vacation. Seeing that they wanted to meet him before he began working on their commission. So, instead of dragging your three-year-old and baby onto a plane for thirteen hours, you decided it would be easier for you to go. Well, you had been hesitant at first. Your husband told you this would be considered a mini vacation despite his having to. And that had sold on the trip.

Even if you were given a break, it didn’t mean you wouldn’t miss your children.

“They're going to be fine.” Suguguru rested his hand on your thigh, pulling you out of your thoughts. It's not like we left them with the circus.”

“Yeah, I know I’m going to miss them.”

Suguru smiled sweetly as he pulled onto the freeway. “I’m going to miss them too, but I am looking forward to having some alone time with you. I think we both need this.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you eyebrowed at him.

“Oh yeah? Some alone time with me while you’re working on some painting?”

Instead of responding to your question, Suguru just winked at you. Ever since he told you about this commission, he has been very vague with the details. It wasn’t entirely out of character for him regarding trips revolving around work. Still, you would have liked some information on where you were going and what exactly the couple head commissioned him for, especially since you were going with him this time.

But no matter how often you asked, you never got any information other than the fact that the commission was for a painting and that you would be in London. You were fine with the minimal details leading up to your trip, but you thought he might give you a little more information before the flight. But as you sat on the plane, he smiled and shook his head, telling you to be patient with him.

The combination of lack of information and Jetlag left you pouting as you stared out the window of the younger rental car as Suguru drove down the streets of jolly old London. You thought that once you had collected your luggage from baggage claim, your husband would have some information for you. Instead, his smile seemed to grow with every passing second. You weren't sure whether it was from the fact that he was teasing you relentlessly or just excited to be on vacation with you.

“Princess.” your suddenly very talkative husband prodded. “Come on now, don't pout like that.”

“I’ll if you tell me where we’re staying.”

“I guess you’re just gonna keep pouting then because you weren’t getting an inch of information from me.”

You stuck out your bottom lip, focusing your gaze back out the window as iconic red buses passed in the distance. Suguru usually wouldn’t have tolerated that kind of bratty behavior, but he could understand why you were so frustrated. He was giving you minimal information, which wasn’t a lot. But now that you guys are finally in Europe, he might as well give you more information.

“You might want to lay back and just relax. We have about an hour to get to our hotel for the next two weeks.”

“We're not staying in the city?”

“Nope!”

You had so many questions you wanted to ask. Like what part of England you would be staying in, the hotel's name, and if it came with a complimentary continental breakfast. With the luck you had with receiving answers to questions you asked, you decided to keep your questions to yourself. Everything would be answered all in due time, even if the questions were eating you up inside.

For once in fourteen hours, you decided to listen to your husband without attitude. You lay back in your seat and shut your eyes, letting the car wake you. While you drifted off to sleep next to him, Suguru barely contained the excitement pumping in his veins. He couldn’t wait to get to your room and board, to pop open a bottle of champagne, and just lay in bed with you. Suguru planned on mapping out every single mark on your body, tracing the stretch marks that had formed over your stomach after carrying your children, kissing up your thighs, and hearing you moan his name without burying your face in a pillow.

Suguru loved his kids; Kiko and Satoshi were his entire world. Your IUD being out of place was the best thing that ever happened to him other than you. He already planned on marrying you one day; getting you pregnant with Kiko sped up the process. While she was unplanned, she wasn’t at all unloved. She was so damn cute; both of you thought it would be cruel to let her roam the world without a sibling. So two years later, when she was completely potty trained, you both decided to try for another baby, and that’s when you were blessed with Satoshi.

His works revolved around you and his children, but as the kids got older, he found his world leaning more toward them than you. Which both of you knew would eventually happen. The long nights of nothing but sex soon turned into you both taking shifts reading bedtime stories to your kids or making bottles in the middle of the night. Those marathon sex sessions had turned into nothing but quickies. Which would scratch the itch, but it never left you feeling completely satisfied

But this mini-vacation was going to be one neither of you would forget. It would be full of nothing but romance, body worship, and sex because my dear husband had failed to mention to you that this wasn’t a work trip.

It was a trip to thank you for everything you had done for him.

An hour later, you slowly stirred as Suguru gently shook you. “Hey, we’re almost there.” You picked out the window and found a wooden fence in front of the car. “We just have a bit of a walk.” Suguru watched as you sleepily rubbed at your eyes, nodding as you stretched your arms above your head.

“Okay,” you yawned, “Let’s get going then. I want to take a shower and order some food. I’ll get the bags!”

“No, I'll come back and get them; let’s just head in and look around the hotel.”

You couldn't help but smirk at his words: “Take a look at the hotel. Or do you just want to have your way with me?” A twinkle of excitement shone in Siguru’s eyes as he shrugged one of his shoulders.

“Maybe it’s a bit of both.”

With the promise of having your incredibly sexy husband doing sexy things to you, you could care less about your luggage. You all but threw open your door and tumbled out of the car. As you gracefully corrected your stance, Suguru snickered while a warm breeze carried the sweet aroma of wildflowers. The shade of the towering trees creaked in the wind; it was nothing but green grass and multicolored flowers; it was a breathtaking sight. Clouds formed overhead as rays of sunlight peeked through them, illuminating the gravel path leading down the road.

“It's so pretty here! Look at you booking a nice little bed and breakfast somewhere.”

Suguru followed close behind; his attention wasn’t focused on the scenery or the sky above you—all because his attention was focused on you. He always loved the curiosity and interest in your eyes when something sparked a thought. He loved how your eyes frantically roamed, taking in the sights around you. Your curiosity and creative mind were constantly rolling; he would never tire of seeing you get so excited over the littlest things.

God, how was it possible for him to love you even more? He'd fallen in love with you when you were teenagers, and when he had agreed to help you with your research, he fell even harder. But when you blessed him with your children, he knew there was no way to measure his love for you.

While he was unable to measure it, he could do everything in his power to show you the love he had for you.

“Hey, Princess.” Before you could look back at your husband, he reached around you, covering your eyes with both hands.

“Oooh~ this is new.” You giggled, resting your hands on his, allowing him to lead you around. “I like it~ it’s kinky~!”

“As much as I’d like to admit being kinky is my plan—it’s not.”

“Oooh boo.”

The lack of vision heightened your sense of sound. As Suguru led you further up the path, the crunching of gravel under your feet became more like a paved path, and Suguru kept moving until he abruptly stopped. Fingers twitched before you could smell his earthy, minty scent closer to you as he kissed your face.

You let yourself fall slightly back into him, allowing his lips to trail over the exposed skin of your face. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“You’re my best friend, Princess. Always have been, always will be.” He felt the muscles in your jaw twitch as you moved to answer him. “Don’t say anything; just listen.” When your muscles relaxed, Suguru pressed again to kiss against your chin. “You dropped everything and came with me to Okinawa. You helped me make two wonderful kids, and you gave up on your dream for me.”

“Suguru—”

“Well, I promised you in my vows that I would make all your dreams come true.” He moved both of you forward a step. “I feel like I have a pretty good start so far. We have a beautiful home, two amazing kids, and a love that transcends time.”

Your heart was so full that you felt your bottom lip quiver. “Suguru, that’s so sweet. I love you; you’ve made many of my dreams come true. I got to marry my best friend; you helped me make our kids; I couldn't be happier.” Suguru chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest as he pressed his back against you.

“Wanna bet?”

“Bet that you couldn’t make me happier?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, seeing that I’m one of the happiest women in the world, I’ll take that bet.”

Suguru’s lips brushed against your ear. “If I win, let me take my time with you tonight. You take off your shirt, and let me admire every inch of you.” Since Satoshi’s birth, you’d been instant on keeping your shirt on. Suguru knew you were self-conscious, but you were beautiful in his eyes in every way.

Your muscles tensed at his words, but you relaxed because you knew you would win this bet. “Fine! If I win, I will get as many back rubs as I want for a month.”

“You say that like it’s a punishment.”

“Oooh, it will be when I have you rubbing me down for an hour.”

“Again, you think that’s a punishment?”

You laughed, trying to pull his hands away, only for him to hold them tighter against your face. “Oh my gosh, what are you up to?” Suguru shuffled you both forward another few feet.

“Shh~ just a couple of more feet.” Your feet moved blindly forward until Suguru stopped. “And all your dreams will come true.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Suguru lofted his hands from your eyes, allowing you to blink the sun's brightness away. The second your eyes readjusted, you were met with a place you knew very well. A water mill slowly churned, attached to the white stone of your cottage. It was your cottage! The white building stood near trees! The wooden window panels were open, allowing sunlight to shine on the stained glass.

The sound of the small river passing by, accompanied by the chirping of birds, was your white noise as tears streamed down your cheeks. You hiccuped, gripping your shirt as you took it in—your cottage, your original inspiration, the starting point of your successful book series. It was so surreal that you couldn’t—you couldn’t even begin to form words to describe your emotions. The only thing you were capable of doing was sinking to the ground as you sobbed.

Was this happening right now? This was your reality?! You were finally at THE cottage; this had to be a dream.

“Princess.” Suguru crotched down next to you, and you instantly wrapped your arms around him, holding your husband as tightly as possible. Suguru just smiled, squeezing you back as you cried into his shoulder.

“It’s the cottage!”

“I know, Princess.”

“B-But how? Don’t we have to lease it?! How didn’t you do this?” you sobbed, pulling away to look at the cottage in disbelief. “Suguru!”

Your husband laughed lately, shaking his head as he helped you stand. “I may have reached out to the owners myself and told my wife was supposed to rent this darling place two years ago but decided to stay with me instead of staying at the cottage that inspired her worldwide phenomenon series, Ring of Roses. I asked them if renting it for a couple of weeks would be possible.” You just continued to let the tears fall down your face as he spoke. “I, of course, also offered to paint the cottage for them. A little thank you for them agreeing to rent it out to us.”

“But the leasing? I wasn’t able to do that last time!”

“The new renters are coming in the fall, so this works perfectly for us.” The waves of happiness and excitement nearly drowned you as you pulled away to look at your husband. “For the next two weeks, the cottage is ours. I wanted you to see this, to step inside your muse. Plus, I figure this might be the perfect inspiration for the last book in the saga.”

While your husband turned his head to stare at the cottage, you grabbed his face with both your hands and slammed your lips against his. Suguru was taken aback by your sudden kiss, falling back against the cobblestone path as you laid all of your body weight on top of him, kissing him as passionately as you could in between the sobs that wrecked your body. Grateful that he wasn’t as much of a mess as you were, his hands gently gripped your hips, kissing you back with the same enthusiasm, allowing you to express your pure, unfiltered love for your best friend, husband, and soulmate.

The kiss slowly turned into something more passionate. Fewer sobs emerged from your mouth, replaced with soft gasps and moans. Suguru’s teeth nipped at your bottom lip before he traced it over with his tongue. You eagerly opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to slide into yours, giving him the perfect chance to explore your mouth, which tasted like strawberries and green tea. His hands inches under the hem of your shirt while your fingers tangled in the silky dark strands of his long hair, tugging it gently, causing your husband to growl into your mouth.

The kiss could have continued, growing more feverish, but clothes would have been removed if that were to happen. As much as Suguru wanted to be buried deep inside of you, kissing you until you were a withering mess below him, he would instead do that in bed. The kiss came to an abrupt and messy end, leaving your lips swollen and drool dripping down the corner of your mouth. Seeing you in such a beautiful, messy state had your husband lifting you into a princess-carry.

You giggle, kicking your feet back and forth as he carries you over the threshold and into the cottage, which is as darling on the inside as the outside. Its wooden floors and stone walls give it an enchanting fantasy feel. The walls are lined with bookcases filled with books, flower vases, and jars of dried herbs, and the smell of baked goods wafts from the kitchen. Your husband, however, does not stop to look inside the cottage. Instead, he’s bounding up the stairs.

He opens one door to find a cute little cottage-core-decorated bathroom before heading to the other door, opening it to find a large canopy bed. The sheer curtains were tied to the posts, allowing the heart made of rose petals on the surface to be completely visible. On the side of the nightstand is a bottle of champagne and two glasses, with a card reading ‘Welcome Geto Family!’.

Suguru ignored the champagne and note; all his attention was focused on throwing you on the mattress. Your hair sprawled out against the sheets and red rose petals underneath you, and your husband froze, taking in your beautiful frame, akin, and eyes that watched him eagerly. You had the same fiery desire in your eyes. He was going to make this a night neither of you forgot.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered, crawling up the bed and hovering over you. “Fuck, I truly am the luckiest man in this world.” His hand slowly began pulling your shirt up to you quickly, grabbed it, forcing it back down. The instant hand releases the fabric of your shirt; you know you fucked up. Suguru just stared at your eyes and narrowed as he grabbed the hem of your shirt again. “I won the bet~”

“Oh, did you?”

“I did.”

“What makes you so sure about that?”

Suguru paused, looking down at you. He slowly pushed your shirt further up. “The fact you were falling to your knees, sobbing your eyes out? The way you shoved me to the ground kissing me?” Your flush deepened in color as Suguru tugged your shirt up to your breasts. “Are you going to seriously look me in the eyes and tell me this didn't make you happier?” There was an almost smug tone to his voice, one you knew he had every right to have; because he had made you even happier, which you thought was damn near impossible.

“No, you did; you won fair and square.”

“That's what I thought.” your shirt was pulled off the rest of the way. “Now let me enjoy my prize.”

No matter how many times Suguru told you how much he loved your body, you still felt self-conscious about the stretch marks that littered your stomach, breasts, and thighs. They were the proof of your healthy, happy marriage and the reminder of your children. Marks that Suguru loved to see because they were a part of you, and they were parts he loved. Every scar, stretch mark, and freckle was an absolute work of art on your skin.

“Fuck,” he whispered, “you’re so fucking pretty.”

You shivered as Suguru’s warm, gentle lips pressed kisses along the side of your neck, teeth gently nipping at your sensitive skin as his hands grabbed both your breasts, gently squeezing and massaging them. His warm skin against yours had your nerves melting; the pleasure and sweet touches had your insecurities fading like a mist in the sun.

“My wife is so beautiful.” Suguru softly whispered against your sternum as his finger slipped under your bra fingers, slowly rubbing circles around your areolas, the pads of his fingers brushing over the sensitive nipples until they were completely hardened, standing fully at attention. “Oh my god fuck, you're so stunning. I will never get over how beautiful you are.”

You mumbled, whimpering, your hands gripping the crisp, fresh-smelling sheets. Suguru’s dark eyes are transfixed on you, watching the way your eyes flutter as his lips seal around one of your nipples. Using his other hand, he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it gently. His mouth and fingers moved in with each other, twisting and pulling each of the sensitive buds, drawing at the sweetest sounds from you.

Once you started rubbing your thighs together, Suguru released his grip on your nipples, traveling his kisses further down your stomach. His tongue darted out over the stretch marks that line your body while his other hand traced so gently and full of love, no doubts in your mind that your husband indeed did find every inch of you perfect. Even if you didn’t think that yourself. But the more he kissed and pleased you, the more you slowly believed his words just as much as he did.

You sighed, shivering as goosebumps rose against your skin. His every touch lit your skin on fire, turning you on. His thick fingers calloused circles over your skin while his mouth continued working its way down further, sucking at your skin and marking you up. Those gentle caresses and sweet kisses had you spreading your legs open wide and inviting him to venture further, gladly accepted.

“S-Sugu—”

“Feeling good, princess?” His fingers grabbed at your pants, tugging them down your legs. They’re instantly thrown to the floor before his lips begin giving your inner thighs the same treatment he had given your upper body. Nipping, kissing, and sucking at the skin, those kisses had heat boiling in the pit of your stomach.

“Y-Yes.”

“Good, I want you to feel good.”

Those kisses were slowly traveled up. Your thighs became more heated, and the closer he approached your throbbing core. With each nip of teeth and heated kiss, your husband’s eyes never left your gaze. He wanted to watch you to see the pleasure that was contorting on your face. Suguru's entire evening to make you feel relaxed and immensely loved.

Suguru hummed, looking at the wet spot on your panties. "God, you're already wet." He whispered, darting his tongue out, lapping at the wet spot with the tip of his tongue.

“Nngh!!” You shuddered, arching your back off the bed, your fingers releasing the sheets gripping his hair instead. “F-Fuck—! Suguru!”

"Yeah, does that feel good already?" He asked, licking over your clit. “I've barely started.” His tongue continued moving up and down over your clothed pussy. “So sweet~ I gotta taste it first hand.” he tugged your panties to the side, locking your swollen clit as he slid two fingers inside of your throbbing cunt.

"Y-Yeah! Fuck, you always make me—gaah—!!” The thickness of his fingers had you releasing a loud moan, your pussy clamping down on him. "Fuck, it feels so good!"

Suguru smirked against your sex, pumping his finger a bit faster as he continued sucking on your clit. "Yeah, it feels so good you're clamping down on me.”

“Haah! Ngggh fuck! You whimpered, trashing your head side to side as his skilled tongue lapped at your pussy. "F-Fuck, Suguru fuck!! You're—Ah! You're going to make me cum!"

"Already, I just barely worshiped you? Cum for me, Princess, cum on my tongue," Your husband whispered with a smile as he went back to suckling on your clit.

You flushed. "O- Of course I am! You got me so worked up, your hands are so big, and you're so—nngh!! So fuckin’ hot—Fuck!! Suguru!!!" Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm hit you as he curled his fingers upward against your g-spot. You gushed around his fingers while screaming his name so loud it echoed through the cottage.

“Mhmm~!” Suguru moaned, lapping up your juices with a loud, animalistic growl. "Fuck Princess, you taste so good, so sweet." He continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, working you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, nngh, fuck!” You gasped at the feeling of his fingers still working inside of you, rubbing that spongy spot. "F-Fuuuck—Sugu—!”

Suguru pulled away from your swollen pussy. "See? You’re a fucking goddess in my eyes. Stunning, beautiful, my other half." He softly praised you as he began kissing up your body.

Annoyed by the teasing kiss, you grabbed your husband by his collar, pulling him up your bottom, before gripping the back of his head and pulling him in for a deep kiss. "I need you inside of me, right fucking now.”

"Yes, Princess," You watched as Suguru pulled his clothes off until his cock throbbed and dribbled pre-cum from the head. "I love you, baby, so damn much, I hope you know that." He whispered before softly kissing you.

You nodded your head quickly. "I know, god. I hope you know how much I love you." You whispered As Suguru crawled on top of you. “You have made my dreams come true, Suguru. I never thought I’d see the cottage, let alone stay in it.” You reached up with a hand, gently cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over the dusty, rosy tint that painted his cheeks. “Getting to stay here, with you by my side, it’s better than I imagined.”

"I’m so happy I could make that come true.” He whispered against your mouth before he slowly pushed the head of his cock inside of you, shuddering. "God, you're so wet and warm.”

Love, adoration, and need flooded the room as Suguru set a gentle pace. He rolled his hip, slowly thrusting into you, stretching you, sending shocks of pleasure to every nerve in your body. Seeing your lips part one into an ‘O’ shape and having your nails dig into his back was all the confirmation Suguru needed to know that you were feeling good. That, however, wasn’t enough; he needed more, wanted more. So that slow, steady pace picked up, increasing in speed and roughness as his fingers dug into your hips.

The sudden change had your head rocking back as you gasped. Your eyes fluttered as he pushed his cock inside you. "O-Oh fuuuuck~ Your cock is so thick, Sugu!”

"Yeah? I’m glad you’re feeling good.” He tilted his head back with a growl. “God, you feel so good~ so fucking tight, baby!”

He pushed deeper into you with a moan, his tip kissing your cervix. The deep thrusts, steady pace, and wet squelching sounds had you both clinging to each other as you cried out. Lips smashed against each other in a deep, passionate kiss, each touch conveying feelings.

You writhed on the bed, whimpering and moaning, arching and shakin' as he kept pushing into you. "Fuck-Fuck, Yes, I want all of you, Suguru, all of your cock, please give it to me!”

"Yes baby~ god, you're such a good girl taking all of my cock."

"F-Fuuuuck!!”

“I love you, baby, god. I love you so fucking much.”

“Suguru—” You beamed up at him, biting your bottom lip as you moaned louder. "Suguru! Nngh ah~ I love you, fuck I love you so damn much baby!!"

He smiled back, grabbing your legs and pushing them toward your chest as he fucking into you. “Ah, fuuuck! I'm going to love you forever!" He cried out, slamming his lips on yours as his thrusts picked up faster and harder, coughing the headboard to slam against the wall with each thrust.

“I-I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum!”

“Yeah~?” Suguru moaned, pressing his forehead against yours. "Me too, cum with me, baby~ cum on my cock." All rhythm in Suguru’s thrusts was gone; his only goal was to fill you with his cum, to make you his all over again.

"Sugu--Oh god, Suguru, fuck yes! Yes cum inside me, baby, fill me up, please!" You begged, tears threatening to fall from the overwhelming pleasure and emotions.

Suguru gritted his teeth, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts before he shuddered, his cock throbbing as he came deep inside of you. "Princess~!!" You gasped, warmth flooding you as your husband's cum painted your insides, your nails raking down his back as you screamed cumming hard along with him.

You both lay there, Suguru trying his best not to crush you under his weight as you came down from your high. The post-nut clarity had Suguru groaning as he rolled, pulling you to rest on his chest. As you sit up, rest your hands against his chest. He just watched you, taking in the way the colored panels of the stained glass window danced over your skin and how you looked stunning on top of him, like always, but this time, you glowed; that could be from the pure joy and excitement you felt rushing through you.

“You’re so pretty, I love you.” His hands reached up, caressing your cheeks, taking in this moment so he could remember it for the rest of his life.

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. "I can't believe you brought me to my cottage. I've been dreaming of seeing it for so long, and to be here is so surreal."

"I promised you I’d make your dreams come true, baby," Suguru whispered, leaning up and kissing you softly.

You hummed softly, kissing him back. "Fuck—You're so handsome."

"And you're so beautiful," Suguru whispered, allowing his hands to roam down to your hips, squeezing them gently.

Your whimpered, slowly rolling your hips, his cock still buried fully inside you. "I can't begin to tell you how much I love you. You're my best friend and so fucking hot. God, I love you, Sugu. You were my first door everything, the father of my children, and you have spoiled me rotten." You mewled softly as you ground your hips harder, feeling him throb deep inside of your pussy as he started to harden. "All I want is you and our family~! God, I am so in love with you, Geto Suguru.” You pushed yourself up before slamming back down again onto his erect cock. "Nngh Sugu! F-Fuuck~ You're so fucking sexy, taking such good care of me and the kids! I am so in love with you~!!"

Suguru gasped, looking up at her, flushing a deeper shade of rose. Hearing you talk like that made him want to spoil you more. You were his life, his inspiration, his everything!

"O-Oooh fuck you're so fucking beautiful." He thrust up, hands gripping your hips as he bucked up into you. "I love you! You’re my everything, baby!" He would do anything for you, literally anything you asked!

“Ah!” You cried out; his cock was almost too much to handle. "Fuck! Fuck-—Suguru! God, I need you to knock me up again, breed me!"

Something inside him snapped like it had the instant you told him you wanted another baby. He snarled, holding onto your hips as he pounded up into you, his head falling back against the pillows. Hey, he said he'll give you anything you want! If another baby was what you wanted, then another baby would be what you’d get!

You whined, your back arching as you clenched down on his cock. "F-Fuck! Sugu, I'm going to cum! Fuck I'm gonna cum!"

"That's it, cum for me, cum for me, Princess!" Suguru said, thrusting harder, freezing for a second as you both screamed into the room, cumming at the same time. “O-Oh fuck!!”

You both panted heavily as you fell forward, collapsing onto his chest as he held you close, kissing your face weakly. The intensity of the orgasms and words shared left you both glowing as you sleepily lay in bed, hands roaming over each other's bodies. Truly, this was one of the most passionate nights you both had shared in your relationship and marriage.

That night was the starting point of your happy vacation, where you spent time mapping each other out, snuggling on the bed, cooking meals together, and taking long walks through the woods. Being together without the interruptions of work, children, and life was magical.

It was as magical as the day you walked into his elementary school class, as enchanting as your first kiss. Being with you as a boyfriend, husband, and now the father of your children was an experience words could not describe. Those were the thoughts that flowed through Suguru’s mind as he sat in the wildflower field he should be drawing, sketching out the cottage for the painting he was going to work on. But his sketchbook was discarded to the side, and he was lying on a blanket with you. Your eyes were shut as the warm sun shone down on you.

Suguru exhaled through his nose, brushing away a stray strand of hair from your face, causing your eyes to flutter open. “Sorry, did I wake you?” he whispered as your beautiful eyes bore into his. “Were you having a good dream?”

“Mmm, it was okay.” You snuggled close to his chest, sighing contently as you shut your eyes again. “But this is better than some dream; this is my dream come true.” Your husband chuckled, lifting your chin with his forefinger and allowing you to stare into his eyes.

“Our dream true.” You nodded, kissing him softly. His arms pulled you closer.

This would typically be where you would write a ‘Happily Ever After,’ but it wasn’t an ending for you and Suguru. It was just the beginning.

The End

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

ITHK Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26 @moonlightazriel @candy-s72 @makingtimemine @strflp @angel-academia @xocandyy @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

[gam3-b01]

winter

pairing(s): jeon wonwoo x reader

genre(s): angst

wc: ~1.3k

warnings: suggestive content (hankypanky related activities), just sad hours in general, minors dni just to be safe

(a/n: my first post on this blog, this was one of my earliest drafts and i needed to get it out of my system ahahsjdnd. the way some people might know who i am because i used the term hanky panky is concerning but also hilarious, if you see this i love you bro sorry for angst hours i stayed up too late to make sane decisions sorry i had to. song inspo for this fic is winter by two feet)

It's not a thing, right? This hasn't happened before.

But the familiarity with which you look up at him from under the covers slaps Wonwoo in the face before he has the time to process the content haziness clouding your eyes. His tense frame relaxes involuntarily, and he slips in beside you but not before checking your bare skin for any bruises he might have accidently left after almost soldering you to the mattress barely ten minutes ago. As he slips an arm around your middle and you tell him without any kindness whatsoever that his hands are way too cold for you (and that he should probably get checked for anaemia because, and he quotes, "even hell freezing over generates more fucking warmth than you do"), he realises he has to stop lying to himself and acknowledge the fact that realistically, this has actually definitely happened before.

This exact night, every single frame of it, happened last year. And the year before that. And the year before that one? No, the both of you were still together back then. Probably. What year was three years ago? Time was always a muddy, comically abstract concept when it came to each other for the both of you.

Maybe it would be easier for him to count the years winter to winter. Because when Wonwoo visits his hometown at the beginning of every December, a series of events occur. He sets his bags down at his place and spends the first week in radio silence recuperating with his family, ignoring the 20 odd messages he gets from Mingyu about his dog and updates (read: gossip) from their shared workplace. The next week usually is spent catching up with old friends mostly out of obligation, and the third week is occupied by Christmas. The fourth-ish week is when all of his friends asking about you begins to get to his head. By around the 28th of December, he's sick of lying awake in his childhood bed, staring at the ceiling as he tries to forget things that should never have happened in the first place. Eventually he sits up, runs a hand through his hair, puts on his glasses, and spritzes on something that you liked to call "sandalwood crack" before shrugging on his jacket and heading out.

Where to though? He pretends to think for a while before giving up. And when he steps into the bar after paying for his cab, he is never, ever surprised or secretly relieved when he spots you sitting in the stool furthest away from the air conditioning. You look wasted, but the soda cans strewn about you indicate otherwise. You've stopped drinking after the breakup. You're doing well with sobriety. He opens with that like the asshole he is, and you have the decency to cuss at him like a sailor and pass him a stool as you say something vaguely self-depreciating as a joke about the near-alcoholism you contracted back then. He opts for silence. And you ask him to take it easy despite him having opened the fire. Ever tolerant. Like the gentle undercurrents of a river (not like you didn't have a temper on you, you just tended to be nice when you saw him after long periods of time. Was it because you missed him? The mere thought had him shrivelling up a little inside). Wasn't he supposed to be the water sign between you both? He remembers the natal chart phase you had when you were nineteen, which reminds him you were his best friend of nine years before the both of you stopped talking. He expertly shoves that piece of information away before it tries to hurt him one more time.

(...What kind of best friend asks, no, begs him to leave and never contact them again? Maybe the kind whose best friend actually proceeded to do exactly that without ever putting up a fight? Fuck.)

Things somehow, without fail, end up leading you both to the nearest motel when one of you ends up saying something incredibly reckless and all the other person can do is gape hopelessly, words murdered in cold blood right when they were about to be bailed out from their throat. The rest of a night is a senseless, irresponsible blur, and then?

The rough part begins.

One of you is going to leave in the next thirty minutes if Wonwoo's doing his gut arithmetic right. He wished he sucked at math sometimes, he really did.

However, he blinks a bit. Something feels off, something feels different. You're not leaving (is it his turn this time..?). Instead, you're turning around, eyes vulnerable and still blown a little wide as you touch his hair with a flavour of fondness he could not imitate even if he tried his damndest to.

He freezes for only a second before his lips seek yours out of habit. He truly loathes the way he groans at how much it affects him, but what else is he supposed to do when he knows you're trying to hold back that little sound you make when you get desperate for him? He's almost willing to let you take the lead because he feels like his system is going into overdrive, willing to let you finally ruin whatever's left of him, but sanity prevails by a hanging thread as he takes back control from you with a firm hand on your jaw. His grip is gentle unlike earlier, and despite knowing you like it when he's mean to you, his eyes shine with something completely different when he breaks the kiss for a moment to take in everything he can about you right now and burn this anomaly into his memory.

(Because what else will he be ever be able to think of on every single cold, miserable night for many years to come after that look you gave him before he kissed you? That look that made it look like you still loved him, why did you have to do that?)

You're staring at him like you've been burned, and he's trying his absolute best not to flinch away when he sees raw, unabashed hurt begin to filter through your soft irises.

"Don't look at me like that." You start.

"Like what?"

"Like you-", you gulp nervously, eyes quickly losing the content sheen radiating off of you earlier.

"-like you actually want me or something."

Externally, the tenderness in his eyes is instantly replaced by whatever the fuck he usually looks like, but internally, he's trying his best not to scream. Your words are unfair, cruel even. How can the one person who knows him like the back of their hand not grasp the one fundamental truth that makes up his very core?

The alarm system inside his head built just for you tells him you feel sick, just like he does. He knows you've gleaned that much as well, and makes no effort to stop you as you slip out of the bed with the sheets hugging your chest in one fluid motion.

"I feel so sick, Wonwoo."

"I know."

Your heart is as tangled up as his is, and no matter how many times the both of you manage to land into each other's arms, neither of you seem to be capable of unravelling the other without tearing everything apart.

He watches you collect yourself before turning to him, face stone cold, with eyes that now look foreign to him as you deliver the parthian shot.

"I think that I should go."

[trash-bin-ary]

Okay im gonna reblog this again then actually go to sleep cause I feel it imperative that if cb does look at my account and see the stuff I posted tonight that he know that while him mentioning osdd and memory was the catalyst for it it is not a bad thing that he mentioned it. I need to work through this cause it has itched in my brain forever and it’s a good thing to work through it while knowing that you’re not alone in it

[olderthannetfic]

I'm a big mpreg and A/B/O fan who is wondering if anyone else has noticed the weird anti-abortion attitudes in a lot of mpreg and a/b/o? Like where you're "2000s Hollywood movies" levels of characters not even CONSIDERING abortion as an option for unwanted pregnancies (in a universe where this is possible and safe, and where it doesn't make sense with the character's characterization). I get why for plot reasons, abortion isn't as satisfying an end to a certain kind of pregnancy story as having the baby, same as it is in movies that do it. But you can write a character considering abortion and deciding not to get one in a way that doesn't make the option seem horrible and unthinkable or otherwise stigmatize it.

Or the number of people who seem to think abortion is such an inherently "traumatizing" topic that they need to content-warn for even a vague, offhand mention of it. It's one thing if it's graphic surgery or something - I'd probably want a head's up for that no matter what it was, at least in a story where I didn't see it coming - but just mentioning it at all? Abortion is a routine, safe medical procedure in places where it's legal. If you're doing warnings with abortion and no other medical procedures, you're reinforcing the anti-choice idea that abortion is inherently upsetting and sad. It's reinforcing abortion stigma. I've met many, many more people who've had abortions who felt happy about it and wish they could say that without having people treat them like a murderer, than I have people who had the "post-abortion regret" that anti-choice organizations talk about, and my experiences are supported by basically all the statistics about this that aren't from anti-choice political lobbying groups. It's especially egregious when people do this over an early, fully-elective (and legal and safe) abortion - a thing where patients having triggering kind of trauma is so low as to be statistically insignificant - but don't do it over related topics that genuinely contribute to a lot of PTSD, like miscarriage, infertility, adoption, and even fucking child death!!!!! I saw a fic that mentioned ALL of those things in someone's inner monologue considering what he should do about an unexpected pregnancy, but only the abortion part got warned for! Maybe some of that sounds nitpicky, but I personally know people who read fanfiction who like warnings for discussion of infertility/miscarriage because they have a lot of stress and trauma over unsuccessfully trying to have a child, and don't want to be reminded of that in their happy place.

It feels like a thing that's oddly underdiscussed when people talk about things in mpreg and a/b/o that would be kind of questionable to these same authors if they were to encounter it in stories about pregnancy where the character is a woman (like the stories where simply having a working uterus means you are inherently more nurturing or less ambitious or sweeter, or where getting pregnant suddenly makes you like that no matter how you were before). But if anything it's more common. I have to assume a lot of it's because a lot of people writing these were raised with more conservative ideas about abortion and then changed their minds, but didn't really question everything their upbringing taught them about abortions being always tragic or something that you should only do in extreme circumstances or whatever. Something you often see on Tumblr discourse about abortion, too, where people who claim to be "pro-choice" will come u with a list of reasons (disability, gender, just not feeling it, etc.) why it's "not okay" to get an abortion - not getting the point that forcing someone to carry a pregnancy they don't want is a violation of their body autonomy regardless of their "reasoning." The ableist woman who doesn't want a disabled baby still doesn't deserve have to a pregnancy forced upon her by the state!

I have to wonder if it's more noticeable to me because i wasn't raised that way at all, I had pro-choice leftist feminist parents.

Anyway long story short, I've never agreed with the anti take that mpreg or a/b/o are inherently sexist or anything like that. A lot of it is nothing like this! But it's common and I have to wonder if something working within a medium that's considered to be queerer and more progressive sometimes leads people to expose more of these attitudes than they might otherwise. Kind of like how you see a lot of weird sex-negativity in queer and fandom communities because people think merely being queer and in fandom means they can't be conservative, but they haven't actually questioned underlying sex-negative attitudes they have.... and so you get them being susceptible to anti and "kinks don't belong at pride" and such.

It's not inherently sexist, but I'm not sure it's inherently progressive, either? Not that it has to be. But I think my patience for anti-abortion stigma is, given recent big world events, at its absolute nadir lol

(sorry this is so long! guess i had more to say about this than i thought)

--

Too much American culture, maybe? IDK.

My mother considered abortions to be about like having the doctor remove a tick. I too find a lot of people's pearl clutching bemusing.

I always find it embarrassing in that bad writing OOC way when people don't include abortion where it makes sense or treat it as a Big Deal where it wouldn't be to that character.

However, I do usually expect mpreg fic to be kinking on "Ohhh nooo, now we have to stay together for the baby!" nonsense fantasies. It's one reason I dislike most of it. Given that, I wouldn't read too much into the plague of conservative anti-abortion vibes.

The fandoms that do more with A/B/O world building (giving the betas an actual role, etc.) tend to have more fic where they consider or even get abortions though.

[luimagines]

Soulmates from the Start Part 6

Another commission!

It's extra long this time. :D And guess who couldn't finish the story in one go like I thought I would?

Masterlist

First Chapter/ Previous Chapter/ Next Chapter

Content under the cut!

Twilight was too busy being stuck in his own head to fully take into account what was happening around him.

You had mentioned bokoblins.

Bokoblins.

You had never mentioned them before. At least not in the way that told him they were near you. You had once told him, years ago when you both were fantasizing about meeting each other, that you were far away from Hyrule. You said that you didn’t have bokoblins where you were from.

You said ‘Bokoblins suck. I didn’t think they were as big as they actually were. Did you know they smell? I feel like I’m going to pass out.’

Twilight wasn’t sure he was processing that right. It would have to have been the first time you had seen a bokoblin in person for you to say that. Bokoblins were only in Hyrule.

YOU WERE IN HYRULE.

The knowledge of being so close to you had frozen him in place. Twilight could only vaguely recognize that The Champion, with all his loyalty, was sitting next to him. He noted that the stances were eerily similar to what has happened many times before.

However this time the roles were versed.

Wild had sat him down against a tree while he kept his guard up. Twilight would be thankful later, when he was done trying to make everything make sense in his own head. The Rancher knew he was in no position to even remotely defend himself at this moment.

What else had you said? What else could he decipher if he tried hard enough?

No idea. I heard a horn and then an arrow shot by my foot. I just took off running.

Twilight wants to bite off his own tongue. Everything stopped once he heard you were in danger again. He was too focused on trying to not panic and make it worse for you. He was such a useless soulmate. Everything in his body was telling him to find you, to protect you, to hold you close and tend to every cut and cruise that would have been inflicted on you should he have been even a hair too late.

He heard a horn too but it was Hyrule, Warrior and Time that had gone to investigate the nearby monsters. It would be foolish to think that it was in any way related. 

Twilight shook his head, feeling things calm down in his head to think clearly again. It was incredible luck for you to be in Hyrule as it was. Anything more would be asking for too much. But he could work with this. He was a hunter to some degree. He was a wolf for a reason whether he liked it or not.

He was going to find you.

He was going to meet you and hug you and follow through every promise he had ever made to you since he fell in love with you.

There are a lot of them. He has to make up for lost time.

***

You all but screamed.

How is this possible? How are you here? How is he here? Wait-! You DO recognize him! You’ve seen him before!

Fully aware that you’ve been staring at the poor boy as if he had grown a second head, you give him your hand to shake. It was slow and robotic. Your limbs didn’t want to cooperate just yet.

The boy laughs under his breath as you shake hands. “I don’t bite.”

“...Right…” You force a smile on your face. It’s awkward and tight. You remember him now, even though you’re not entirely sure from what game he belongs to. His clothes and appearance are too unassuming. There’s nothing to tell him apart from all the other Links you’ve seen in your life. However, he travels with Link. Your Link. Your Link should be somewhere nearby.

Your muscles tense with the idea of getting to see him after so many years of pining. You introduce yourself to the person in front of you first and dust yourself off. Everything hurts and you’re tired. But instead your brian is now going a thousand miles a minute.

Link is here. Link is close. You’re in Hyrule. You’re in Hyrule.

The Link who is not your Link tilts his head as you speak. “That’s an unusual name. You’re not from around here, are you?”

You shake your head with a weak grin. “What gave it away? My ears?”

You tease by exposing the ears that would have no doubt made you stick out like a sore thumb in this type of world. As it stands, you figure you might as well get it out of the way as it is. You’re not entirely sure how it’ll blow over but the only person who’s even remotely connected to people with round ears is your Link. You’re hoping beyond hope that this little thing will lead him closer to you, if only so they don’t send you away immediately now that you’re saved.

“Hyrule? Find anything interesting? Where’s the person that screamed?” Another voice calls out. It’s deeper. Far more deeper than you would have anticipated, and yet, you know it too. Although far more intimately that you would have realized at first.

Within moments, a man steps into the little space you’ve found yourself in and looks you up and down. A vague sting reminds you of your current injuries but you’re struck dumb at the look of him. So familiar, yet so different. He’s younger. He’s alive.

“Hero’s Shade…” You whisper under your breath. Do you make eye contact? Is that rude? Would that be a threat? Oh my god- he’s the Hero of Time! Isn’t he related to your Link? Wouldn’t he be related to you too? Maybe? By marriage? God- you hoped so. At least in your future. It would mean that Link would have forgiven you for pushing him away and for what you still have to confess now that you’re here in person. It would be awful to do so in front of all these other people but they deserve to know.

Guilt sinks deep into your gut and you feel your face get warm at the very thought of it.

What would they think of you when you tell them?

“Do you require immediate medical assistance?” He asks you instead, unaware of the turmoil going on in your head.

You shake your head and pull your arms close to your body. He nods once and gestures for you to follow. “Come. We’ll tend to you first before we move on.”

“O-oh…” They’re taking you with them anyway? At least for now it looks like. Your feet feel like lead but you follow them.

“All clear!” A third voice calls out when you step back onto the path. He looks straight out of a model magazine if you ignore his clothing. But even with his clothing, there’s a sort of cutting edge to him that would have certainly held your attention if you didn’t instantly start comparing him to your Link. 

It felt really good to say that. Your Link. You doubted you would ever get tired of saying it like that.

However, your eyes instantly narrowed in on the scarf that he had slung around his shoulders. You don’t remember it being that big- but it takes every fiber of your being so turn your eyes away from him. Knowing him and all that he’s been through- was probably the worst one you’ve investigated. He was the one you hoped to meet the least. Should he learn, no, when he learns about the things you’ve done, he would most likely take it the hardest.

Unfortunately, you can see the moment he pinpoints your unease and tucks it into the back of his mind. You flinch. The others see that too.

“You know…” He says slowly, taking his time to walk over to you. “There aren’t a lot of people with ears like yours.”

“I’ve gathered that.” You say softly. You want to own up to what you’ve done and what you know. You want to be the adult you are and take accountability… but not yet. You have to see him first. You have to see that your soulmate is safe and real in the flesh.

The Hero of Warriors bites his lip awkwardly. You’re not sure what he’s thinking but you have the slight suspicion that none of you are on the same page. He scratches the back of his head. “I haven’t met a lot of people like you but we know a guy who grew up with cropped ears. Come form a group of them. They live in Ordon Village. Heard of it?”

You can’t help it. You perk up and your heart starts beating faster. There’s no denying your recognition, or the way your face lights up. “Yes! I do!”

This could be your ticket straight to your soulmate! And you didn’t even have to say anything yet!

“He might be a bit out of it though.” This ‘Hyrule’ Link mentions quietly. “Is this really a good idea after everything he’s going through right now?”

You bite your tongue. If this ‘he’ is who you think it is, then you have to be patient. You’ve waited years to meet him. You can wait a little bit longer.

“You know him?” The Hero of Warriors looks back to you instead of answering his friend. “He knows about everybody from his village. Name’s Link.”

You have to force yourself to nod normally and calmly. “I… should.” This is a make or break moment. Now or never. You have to be brave and face the consequences no matter what happens. “...I’d know for sure once I see his face though.”

“Very well.” The Hero of Time, albeit older and more scarred. You’re not sure why he has the Fierce Deity marking on only half of his face or why he has a scar over his eye already. “Maybe a familiar face would do him some good for a time. He needs someone other than us to talk to.”

You don’t comment, too focused on appearing normal as they begin to lead you back to where they were as a group. You faintly notice that ‘Hyrule’ (you have to figure out where he’s from or quickly before you accidentally spill any secrets he may be trying to keep) has glowing hands as you walk. Your injuries and the pain begin to fade.

So this one does magic? Which Link can heal?

You try to keep the conversation light and away from true thoughts and feelings as you nervously follow them through the forest. You didn’t think you would be so shaken by all of this. You didn’t think you would find yourself this anxiety ridden. Oh you hope that he’s here, that he will forgive you! You have to apologize for everything you never said.

***

Twilight finally managed to get a grip on himself and on reality after what felt like an eternity later.

“Hey. You ok?” Wild reaches over and pats him on the back, trying to be as soothing as possible. “Are they ok?”

“Y-yeah… I think so.” Twilight takes in a turbulent breath. “They feel… calmer. I’ve never been able to simply feel them before. They must have stopped shutting me out so much…”

“That’s great, Rancher!” Wild cries, punching him on the shoulder. It’s such a brotherly move that Twilight can’t help but smile, albeit weakly. “You’ve just hit a rough patch. It’ll all be ok in the end. You’ll see.”

Twilight coughs and nods along. “It’s something… I just hate that they were so scared for so long… I couldn’t… I can’t do anything…” He shudders. “But I think… I think they’re here. I think they’re close.”

Wild freezes in a similar fashion that Twilight had earlier. “...Are you serious?”

Now that he’s said it out loud, it feels weightier. Hearty. Real. He nods fervently as the smile on his face turns into a grin. “I am. I think they’re here, Cub. …I need to find them.”

“Then we’ll help you.” The Champion replies without hesitation. “After all of this, this is the least we can do. We’ll find them first. Everything else can wait.”

Warmth and adoration bloom in Twilight’s chest as he brings the younger hero in for a bone crushing hug. There are no words that he can say that would properly convey what he’s feeling but he’s going to fight to keep it.

There’s rustling to the side of their makeshift camp. Everyone turns to the sound with expectant eyes. Time brushes some of the brambles out of the way as Warrior comes through, stretching his arms as he goes. “Hey Rancher. We got someone we thought you’d like to meet. You up for it?”

Twilight raises an eyebrow and stands. “Depends on the per-”

The words die on his tongue. You walk in, roughed up and dirty. But beautiful. So, so beautiful.

You seem nervous as you look around. Hyrule walks around you and everyone is watching for anything to explode. You see him and suck in a breath.

You stare at each other.

Twilight thinks his heart has stopped entirely. Surely this was too easy. He had only come to the conclusion that you were in his grasp. Now you’re just here? Like that? All but plopped onto his lap to love and adore and spend the rest of his life with?

The weight of the situation seems to finally settle on everyone’s shoulders. Wild shoves Twilight forward and he stumbles from the action. He can’t even be mad. He can’t bring himself to glare at his friend. It would mean he would have to take his eyes off of you. And he refuses to do that.

“...It’s you…” The words leave him breathlessly. You’re perfect. Better than anything he could have imagined. Those visions did not do you justice. “...It’s really you…”

Suddenly you tear up and the hazy dream of it all shatters. Twilight feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over his head. “What is it? What’s wro-”

“LINK!” You run and jump on him, holding onto him like he’s a life line. It’s enough to knock him over and knock the wind out of him, but he’s used to a little rough and tumble. He catches you with ease, spinning to disperse the remaining momentum and holds you just as tightly as you descend into heart wrenching sobs.

It breaks his heart.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Twilight says quietly. He starts crying too. 

Everyone else is aware that this should have been a private moment but they’re too invested in this to look away now.

You pull away and cradle his face. Your fingertips are gentle but shaking. You’re drinking him in just as much as he’s drinking you in. He feels you trace the markings on his face, lip wobbling with unspoken words as fat tears continue to roll down your cheeks.

He wipes them away gently.

You sniffle, caressing him in a similar manner, no doubt wiping away his own tears he’s been set on ignoring. “I could kiss you.”

That’s all the permission he needed.

***

Link kisses you.

He’s sweet and tender and although you’ve never kissed another person before it was everything you thought it would be. You’re not sure why. It was clumsy and awkward but you were too caught up with finally being in his arms to care about it at all. It was as it should be.

You let yourself have this. You kiss him back. You hold on tightly. You run your hands through his hair and try to map him out as fast as you can before you inevitably have to explain everything.

You know this because you cried out his name.

It was a spur of the moment thing. You hadn’t intended to. Since you had never shared each other’s name, he would no doubt start to ask questions once the high dies down. It would ruin everything for you, kill you off before you had a chance to fully live through this, but you wouldn’t lie to him. You’ve done enough damage without him knowing.

So you’ll take what he gives you while he’s still willing to give it. And you’ll hold the memory close for all your future years to come when you inevitably separate.

You finally allow yourself to pull back and gulp down the air that you’ve been missing.

You’re messy and tired and you’re sure that this is going to end poorly but for the hell of it, you kiss him one more time before relaxing slightly.

Link for his part, was absolutely stunning. He was warm and solid. The arms around you spoke of pure power. His strength was no laughing matter and you knew that. You were completely caged with his grasp but instead of feeling threatened or concerned, you were at home. Every cylinder in your brain was firing off that this was where you belonged.

You have to force yourself to pull your hands away.

You sniffle, looking away from his enchantingly blue eyes. Have they always been that shade? Were they always so bright? You could have sworn they were different. You fix up his fur pelt and the collar around his tunic, trying to bring yourself back into some working order.

You feel his hands gently, almost hesitantly card through your hair and around your ears and neck- toying with the idea of feeling your skin. It fires off goosebumps over the rest of your body.

You gulp and force yourself to speak. “...I didn’t think I would ever see you in person.” Your voice gets thick with emotion. You can feel your heart betray you further, nearly sending you into another sobbing fit before you can reign it back in. “I didn’t think it was possible.”

He nods and laughs wetly as he gives in to his compulsion to play with your hair between his fingertips. “Neither did I… I was so scared I lost you.”

You shudder at the raw and thick feeling that shoots through your bond. You can feel him. It’s warm and sturdy. You think you can feel the brush of fur along your heart- a calling to the beast he holds within. It shakes you. Was this how your bond was supposed to eb from the start if you weren’t separated from realities? You take in another deep breath, the tears fall anew regardless. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and holds you impossibly tighter. “Never say that to me again. You have nothing to apologize for.”

You’re stunned. After everything? He was obviously frightened. And at the same time, you know that your time is up. You have to explain yourself.

“That’s not true, Link.” You sniffle, hoping that by ripping off the bandaid it would make it easier for you to heal later on. You can’t bring yourself to hide it any longer. “I have so much to apologize for.

His face crumbles as he rubs his thumb over your cheek. A deep, dark growl emanates from him as he bares his teeth. You’re not entirely sure he knew that he did that. “You’re hurt.”

It’s startling how otherly he looks in that moment- but you’re not afraid. Guilt is replaced by intrigue.

There’s so much you’d love to learn about him. But you can’t keep up this charade. It might as well be that everyone is still watching your very downfall before you could truly begin.

***

Twilight could feel himself growl before he could stop himself. You tensed up but didn’t pull away.

Good. He was worried that the effects of the magic in his life would have turned you away the second you saw it in person. He forces himself to relax. Putting aside the driving need to tear apart the very things that harmed and threatened you into shreds, he gently bonks his forehead to yours. “I forgive you.” He tells you, because it’s true. Whatever you want to apologize for- if it’s for scarring him, for blocking him out, for dropping out of your bond for those terrifying 7 hours- he forgives you. You’re here. He won’t lose you so easily now that he has you. “I don’t care about what’s happened. I’m glad I finally get to see you after so many years.”

He’s dreamed of this moment for as long as he knew you were meant to be his. He never would have imagined that it would have been under these circumstances but he can feel you. He feels you. There’s no more door in his way. There’s no more tampering the connection or even remotely trying to hold back what you’re both thinking and feeling.

You’re bright and fluttering and sharp. Like a rose if he had to pinpoint both your intricacy and your ability to put him in his place whenever he would need it. It’s almost delicate but intimidating. You could cut him in a heartbeat- but he could crush you without meaning to. The thought is exhilarating. He hadn’t imagined that the bond would have been this intimate or vulnerable.

You’re feeling guilty. So, so guilty. It’s enough to catch his heart in a vice grip and mangle it beyond its bruised exterior. He wants to wipe the sinister feeling from your heart and mind. Twilight wants to soothe all your worries and troubles with a single swipe of his hand.

He kisses your forehead. “I don’t believe you. This mess wasn’t your fault. You’re not a malicious person. I would know. We’ve been in each other’s head since we were old enough to toddle.”

The guilt gets worse and he’s questioning how he could feel everything about you but not your thoughts. Maybe he misunderstood the manner of your bond and this new strange and wild feeling.

You hang your head, hitting his chest gently as you sink into him. The feeling is good and drives itself deep into his bones. He sighs, closing his eyes to block out his unfortunate audience. You hug him and begin to shake slightly. “You don’t know what I’ve done. You don’t know what horrible thing I‘ve been keeping from you… But you have to promise me, let me explain it all first! I just-... I didn’t know at first how bad it would have been. I didn’t think it would have gone this far.”

Twilight feels his heart start pounding. He doesn’t understand. What kind of trouble did you find yourself in? “What are you talking about?” He pushes you away with his hands on your shoulders, looking deep into your eyes. “Are you in danger? Did it bring the shadow to you?”

“Shadow?” You echo weakly. You seem to get what he’s saying and shake your head. He sighs of relief but then you tense up again and wince. “Actually- maybe? I wouldn’t know. I don’t think it would work like that but I can’t be certain.”

He grits his jaw and squeezes your shoulder a little tighter- keeping a conscious decision to still be gentle with you. “Are you working against us?”

He has to ask you point blank. He has to know you got caught up with the enemy. He had thought that you were in danger before. You would have had to spill secrets to save your own life. He wouldn’t be happy with it- but he doesn’t think he would hold it against you in the long run. You had a lot of secrets to give, that he knew. You were a perfect target with zero training and zero experience. He shudders at the thought.

He wouldn’t blame you. You’re clearly beating yourself up over something and it’s tearing you apart on the inside. He can forgive you- even if it would complicate a few things.

To his surprise though- you jump, looking like you’re about to smack him for the very thought to your honor. “What? No! I would never! I would never put you in danger. I would rather pitch myself off a cliff before I ever come close to anyone wanting to hurt you.”

The spark of indignation overshadows the guilt for one bright moment and Twilight finds it himself to smile. “I know. But I had to ask.”

You huff and pout. It’s cute, Twilight thinks to himself, being careful to not send the thought your way. He chuckles and twirls your hair around his finger. It’s so soft. Softer than he would have ever imagined it to be. Would you let him brush it for you?

“I just…” You start again. Twilight sees you hype yourself up to say the words but you hang your head again, guilt creeping over the bond you share like shards of ice. “I’ve done a not good thing, Link. I… know things I shouldn’t. About you. About your friends.” You flinch violently as if you’ve finally remembered that everyone else is watching you. “I owe them an apology. I owe them all an apology. I’m worse than Cia.”

The familiar name sets a good portion of the group on edge. Twilight sees Warrior stand up straighter as a dark look comes over his eyes. Before Twilight can so much as warn the other man to back off from his soulmate, the Captain strides forward and speaks lowly. “How do you know that name?”

You start to shake again. When you speak, your voice is weak and quiet but Twilight hears it all the same. “Can we sit down?”

“Of course, darlin’. Come on.” Twilight guides you to one of the logs around the cooking fire and sits you down. He’s quick to put himself between you and Warrior just in case he tries to get any closer. 

Warrior gets the memo and doesn’t try to approach either of you any more but he crosses his arms. “There are only a very select few outside of my Hyrule that know that name.”

You flinch and bring your hands to your lap, fidgeting with your hand nervously. “I know, Link. But there are places outside of Hyrule that know that name and it’s quite common among those who know the Hero of Courage.”

Twilight feels like something is off with that sentence. Then something clicks. “I never told you my name. I was never able to, no matter how much I wanted to or how much I tried..”

You wipe your eyes and your nose with your sleeve. A long beat of silence passes. “I know… I learned it… As soon as I heard you say Midna… I managed to search for you…” You turn to him. There’s so much unspeakable emotion in your eyes. Your heart feels light but turnt in a way that’s painful for you both. “I found you, Link.”

Twilight sucks in a breath. “...what do you mean?”

“I found you.” You say again. “I found Ordon. I found Hyrule. I found the Twilight Realm. I found your story.”

He suddenly feels sick. It’s as if he’s been punched in the gut. “...What?”

You take a second to swallow your spit. You take a moment to reach for him but decide against it. Twilight reaches out for your hand anyway before you could fully take it back. He’s made his choice. He won’t let you push him away again. But he needs to process the implications of this.

There’s an even longer pause. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. He squeezes your hand back. You lick your lips and keep your head down, focusing on the way your hands are laced together. “I found your story. I found out everything. I knew how it was going to end before you even knew what it would lead up to. I …knew Midna would leave. I’m sorry, Link.”

Your hand squeezes his tighter and shakes. “I wanted to tell you. But I was scared. I was so scared. I found that no matter what I saw, what I knew, I couldn’t spoil it for you. I was worried it would hurt you in the long run. All I could do was point you in the correct direction so you wouldn’t get hurt worse.”

Twilight can feel the memories coming back to him in an avalanche of recognition. “All those puzzles…” He finds himself saying. “...I was always impressed that you could figure them out so quickly.”

“I was cheating.” You try to joke. It falls flat. “I found a walkthrough and it told me the solution. Of course I had to tell you.”

Twilight chuckles but it’s not quite where it should be. It’s not fully fake, not fully bitter, but it’s certainly toeing the line between the two of those. “...I can’t even be mad. You saved me so much time and effort.”

You whine and try to pull your hand away. He doesn’t let you. “I wish you would be. I wish you would be mad. Even if it was a little bit. I deserve it, Link. I know so much. I saw so much. You don’t even know my name yet I know your darkest secrets!”

Twilight takes a deep breath and tries to put away the sting of betrayal. It feels stupid to get upset over this. After all, you had truly helped him. Through the worst of it, you were still protecting him. “You’re my soulmate. Our bond shares thoughts and visions. You would have my secrets even if you didn’t find my story. It would be silly to be mad at you when you helped me with everything. You were my rock. My safe space. I trust you with my secrets.”

You shake your head again and choke on another sob. Twilight still doesn't understand what’s the problem. You finally look up to the rest of the group and whisper. 

“I know all your secrets too.”

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name ch.3

You can read the whole story on AO3!

If you prefer tumblr: Chapter 1 can be found here. Chapter 2 can be found here.

---

Danny was big. Like seriously big, with a tall frame and wide shoulders, but Tim didn’t think he had been for very long. He still moved his body as if he wasn’t quite used to the size of it yet. Maybe Tim should have been intimidated, but he was too used to big enemies and siblings to really take notice. 

No, what he had taken notice of was the prosthesis making up the other's left arm. A prosthesis that Tim would bet his whole hidden stash of coffee in the Batcave was homemade, a fact that had spurred him to start talking with the guy when he had spotted him sitting alone at lunch.

A prosthesis that currently lay on the table between Tim and Danny where they sat in an otherwise empty room usually used for construction and prototype testing.

Tim hovered with his hands over the arm as he looked up at Danny and asked for the third time, “Are you sure?”

Danny nodded, straightening the liner covering his now exposed upper arm. “Yeah, man. I’ve been doing this solo ever since— well, since I got it. If you could help me work out some kinks that would be great!”

Tim let his hands fall to the prosthesis, tilting it this way and that to get a better look at it as he took in the patchwork of metal. He didn't have any trouble believing that no one else had worked on it as it was clearly cobbled together from whatever Danny had been able to find. The soldering was stable, but looked patchy from where it had been stretched thin to cover what it needed to.

It was an impressive piece of machinery to have been made by one person, even more so from what were clearly scrap-pieces, but if Tim was being honest the most impressive thing was that it moved at all.

Considering its weight, its many functions, and the length at which Danny could use it without charge, there was no known source that could possibly power it. 

Danny had given him some vague explanation of batteries, sustainable energy, self-sufficiency, and a whole lot of nonsensical buzzwords. Tim might not be an expert in prosthetics, but even he knew that it wasn't possible to have batteries big enough to sustain it for a whole day, and small enough to keep the arm as lightweight as it was.

“So,” Tim said as he placed the arm back on the table. “What do you need help with?”

Danny looked up from where he was fiddling with the fingers of the prosthesis. “I can’t get the thumb to move but I'm thinking of adding something to make the articulation of the fingers better, so if you have any ideas about that I would love to hear it.” He perked up, “Oh! I also need to make it lighter, I think, so that I can keep it on for the whole day. It’s starting to become too heavy for me.” Danny gave a strained laugh. “Not getting any younger, you know?”

Tim didn't buy the excuse of age, Danny wasn't old by any means and he certainly was big enough to be able to support the weight, but he had noted that Danny didn't use the arm every day. Which meant that there was another reason for it. 

“Is this related to your… Illness?” Tim asked carefully.

Danny didn’t answer. Which in itself was answer enough.

“Can I ask… What it is?”

He really didn’t want to pry, but maybe Danny didn’t seek out treatment because he lacked the money for it. If so, Tim found that he wanted to help. “If it’s a question of money, then I can—”

“It’s not,” Danny cut him off. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Alright.” Tim dropped the subject as he reached for a small, closed hatch at the underside of the arm. “What’s this part? The power source, right?”

He had just managed to get it open an inch, peeking inside to see something glowing green when Danny snapped the lid shut with a harsh, “Don't touch that.”

Tim held up his hand in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry.”

Danny kept his eyes narrowed and fixed on Tim a second longer, but then relaxed. “No, I'm sorry. I just—It feels personal, okay?”

“Hey, no worries. I get it,” Tim assured him, trying to curb his own curiosity by reminding himself to feel grateful that Danny had trusted him enough to let him work on the arm to begin with. “Thanks for letting me take a look at it.”

“I know it’s not much,” Danny said self-consciously.

It was, but Tim understood what he meant; understood the frustration of being restricted by material things. Tim would love to see what Danny could do with better materials, and there were some benefits to being the son of the richest guy in town. 

“I might have some materials lying around, if you're interested. And I might have an idea about that thumb.”

Danny's whole face lit up.

Tim realized that they were actually starting to become friends. Wish meant that there was only one thing he could do in this situation.

——

Tim scanned the results of the background check he had just completed on Danny.

He had come up clean. Almost too clean. But he also came from a small city in the middle of nowhere; maybe there hadn’t been that many opportunities to get into trouble in Amity Park.

Tim had found no signs that Danny was in any way out to get them, which was great since Tim really didn’t have the time and energy to fight some new villain pretending to be his work-friend and coffee-buddy. His heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

He did trust in Wayne Enterprise’s HR-department (and security department’s) ability to screen new employees but since he had started to run into Danny more often he wanted to investigate himself. But to his surprise, those accidental meetings seemed to just be actually accidental. So even if Tim had been burned one too many times, Danny was starting to look like an actually nice guy. No matter his big size, slightly uncanny looks, and cobbled together technology. The villains can’t get all the cool people, Tim thought smugly and found that he was more relieved than he wanted to admit that Danny had come up clean.

“A new friend?” Dick asked with a raised eyebrow and an infuriating smirk as he leaned over the back of Tim’s chair to get a better look at the screen.

“A colleague,” Tim corrected distractedly as he scanned the documents.

Danny almost seemed too perfect; a friend factory-made to suit Tim.

He liked coffee, he was witty, not afraid to tease him even though Tim was his boss, quick-witted, and had a big interest in technology and inventions. A fact that was proven in his work as well as his prosthetic arm.

In truth, Tim had already started to sneak Danny some projects under the table. Not bat-classed project, but… Maybe some personal things he had under development and would like a second pair of eyes on. And Danny’s insights had proven to be invaluable. Tim looked over his shoulder at the still-smirking Dick. Danny was also non-judgmental and non-infuriating, in contrast to certain other people that should not be named.

As if hearing his thoughts, Dick laughed and nudged his shoulder. “This is a thorough check for a colleague.”

Tim averted his eyes. Maybe it had been longer than he thought since he made a normal friend.

Dick smiled. “I’m glad it came up clean. You could really need some more friends.” 

Dick ignored Tim’s outraged “Hey!” as he scanned over the document before pausing with a frown. “Amity Park? Where's that?”

“No idea.” Tim clicked away on the computer. “Apparently a small town that mostly makes its living as a tourist trap. And their draw is…” Tim trailed off as he digested the last word before exclaiming, “Seriously?!”

Dick leaned in. “What?”

“Ghosts. The whole town claims to be haunted by ghosts.”

“Alright? That's eccentric, but it's not that strange.”

“No, it's just…” Tim dragged a hand through his hair. “It's the second time lately that ghosts have come up.”

And he really didn't want to associate Danny with the two lunatics from a couple of months ago.

“Well, maybe it’s a sign that you should change careers and become a ghost hunter! Can you imagine? A superhero ghosthunter!” Dick laughed and punched him in his shoulder.

Tim snorted and swatted at him. They were really lucky that ghosts weren't real.

——

Of course, after foolishly tempting fate, ghosts stayed not real for far shorter than Tim would have preferred. It wasn’t even a month later when his entire worldview reoriented itself (and really, he should be used to that by now) as that belief died and didn’t come back to life. Which seemed to be a rarity all of a sudden.

At first, they hadn't realized what they were; seemingly harmless and, most unsettlingly, impossible to catch. The blobby apparition had fazed through any and all containment devices they had tried to capture them in, and more often than not they hadn't even been able to touch them. None of their sensors worked, just spouting nonsense readings that fluctuated wildly.

The blobs were hard to handle but thankfully they weren't very destructive since they mostly caused confusion and some accidents brought on by gawking bystanders.They weren’t really attacking anyone—yet, the cynical part of Tim’s mind added—but they were causing enough of a panic to be a problem.

Thankfully, Gothamites generally knew to keep well away from new and unknown possible threats.

The real problem was that they had no idea what they were dealing with and no idea on how to make it go away, but overall Gotham’s green and glowing new decor didn’t really take president over all the daily attacks from both villains and normal criminals.

Tim had foolishly (once again, damn it Tim) believed that was it.

And then he got a message on his communicator masquerading as a cellphone summoning him to the cave for a new type of threat. Tim straightened up from where he had been sprawled over Danny's sagging armchair. “I'm sorry, I have to go. Something came up.”

“Oh?” Danny looked up, eyes immediately jumping from the video game on the TV to Tim. “You okay?”

Tim waved him off, feeling a bit guilty at the clear worry on his friend's face. “Yeah, yeah, nothing bad. Just… A family thing.”

Danny grimaced and Tim guessed he'd had his fair share of family things. He let go of the controller in his right hand, instead grabbing at his prosthetic left, rubbing at it as if in pain.

Tim got to his feet. “It was nice hanging out though. Same time next week?”

Danny's grimace immediately turned into a smile and even though it looked genuine, there was something strained at the corners. “Sure! Good luck with the family.”

There was real fear there, barely visible under the happiness. Tim reluctantly discarded the observation, reminding himself that his friend wasn't a mystery for him to solve. “Thanks. Good luck with the boss without me.”

Danny laughed and shucked a pillow at him. “As if your so-called skills make any difference.”

Tim ducked the soft projectile with a smile before leaving, mind already focusing on what new threat could have come up for him to be called in on one of his few nights off.

Said threat turned out to be an intangible, periodically invisible, glowing, and floating villain. All of those characteristics wouldn’t necessarily lead Tim to the conclusion that he was facing off against a ghost—Gotham was filled with a lot of weird people with even weirder powers—but what sealed the deal was the fact that this new villain just wouldn’t shut up about being one. The ghost of boxes, to be more specific.

Tim would say that he had higher hopes for his own afterlife, but who was he to judge?

And, sure, if that had been the end of it then maybe the easiest answer would have been that they were facing off against a man with very specific interests and an unfortunate chemical accident in his recent past (it had happened before, more than once) but now they were staring down a new villain every other week. All of them proudly proclaiming themselves to be ghosts, and all of them freaking every sensor and scan the Bats threw at them the fuck out.

So ghosts. Were apparently a thing.

Tim wished he was more surprised than he was.

So far, most ghost attacks would stop seemingly by themselves. The ghost in question would be mid-rant and mid-destruction, only for them to suddenly pause, eyes wide. Every time this happened, the ghost’s focus was directed at the group of innocent civilians unwisely trying to catch a glimpse of the action that always accumulated during attacks that weren't too destructive. Their leading theory was that the ghosts were simply scared of the living.

Which was lucky, because the ghosts were both frighteningly strong as well as too many for comfort. Tim was desperately looking for more dependable ways of combating them, but so far he had come up with nothing.

It was hard to fight an enemy you couldn't touch and they weren't used to feeling so powerless.

Which also meant that the small and round creatures that shared all the characteristics of the bigger ghosts, except for the fact that they were shaped more like jelly than people, were also—more than likely—ghosts. It had taken them a frankly embarrassing amount of time to reach that conclusion. Yes, Tim was well aware that Bruce was a world-known detective and that he himself was a genius. No, neither of them had mentioned this slow deduction to anyone.

All of this led up to Tim stumbling into work on a Wednesday, definitely late and definitely operating on way too little sleep. They had all stayed up late yesterday (or maybe it was today? It was hard to even think) facing off against a ghost that claimed to be able to control technology. Okay, facing off might have been an exaggeration. The truth of the matter was that they had ran. The risk of an unknown villain, someone with largely unknown powers and unknown motivations, getting into their tech had been enough of a threat to warrant a tactical retreat.

Which had proven to be a good choice since not even half an hour later there was an attack on their servers. And then another. And another. All of them seemingly from the same source. They had taken readings and scanned everything five times over, but the source of the attack seemed to adapt and change and move in a way that was almost… conscious.

Tim would swear off coffee forever if it turned out not to be the ghost that claimed to be able to control technology. They had been able to stay on top of the attacks but only barely, which was very worrying considering their top-of the line and frankly absurdly paranoid firewalls and assorted protections, as well as the fact that they had, well, Tim on their side.

He promised to never mock Bruce and his paranoid precautions again. At least for a week.

Thankfully they managed to contain the possible (probable) ghost in one of the computers stored in the basement by continuously upgrading and changing their fire walls. But this thing was learning and adapting faster than they could keep up with. It was only a matter of time before it broke out.

Too bad they had no idea who to reach out to. Or even where to start looking for a person who specialized in supernatural possession of computers. The science of ghost hunting didn’t exactly amass reputable scientists and inventors, or if it did, they were probably laying low so as to not get lumped in together with their more… eccentric colleagues. Understandably.

Which meant that trying to find a reputable expert on ghosts was as impossible as grabbing a hold of the ghosts themselves. But Tim knew that he would never be lucky enough for an expert to just stumble into his life, so they kept on searching.

So. No sleep. A whole work-day in front of him. If only he didn't have to keep up appearances. 

Tim tried to keep a brave face and go about his normal duties in his day job and nightly activities, but the threat hung heavy over his head. As well as the lack of sleep, but that didn’t feel as heroic.

Thankfully, his tiredness seemed to act as a homing beacon for his new friend and before he even sat down at his lunch table, Danny was there with two extra-large coffees.

Tim accepted one of them with teary eyes. “You’re a life-saver.”

Danny laughed. “At least I can keep you from joining me.”

And Danny did look tired. He always did.

He was holding his own coffee in his shaking right hand. Apparently the little tweaks and upgrades they had made on the arm hadn’t been enough to make it as reliable as he had wanted, if Danny chose not to use it. Instead it was hanging at his side, looking a little less cobbled together with a new top-plate and Tim felt happy knowing that Danny had taken him up on using the materials.

Tim had started to be able to anticipate what kind of day it was going to be just from how Danny held himself and today didn’t seem like a good one. He was still unsure of what exactly was wrong with his friend, but he was scared to ask again and risk offending him. Their relationship was still too new.

So Tim sipped his coffee and simply said, “I appreciate you keeping me alive.”

“We don’t need any more ghosts,” Danny muttered under his breath and took a sip from his own coffee.

The comment made Tim’s exhausted brain suddenly remember that Danny came from a town known for being haunted. It was a slim chance—since it probably was a cheap way of luring in tourists—but maybe Danny had some insights that could help them with the newly appeared ghosts. And especially the one trapped in the computer in the basement.

The only problem being that Danny had never revealed where he was from and Tim couldn't very well admit to doing a background check on him. That would probably ruin the mood since he was fairly certain that wasn't normal behavior between friends. Admittedly his perspective on what was normal or not was pretty skewed; something his siblings never hesitated to point out to him. Which was true, but they really didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to being normal. 

Tim made sure he sounded casual as he tapped the logo on his coffee cup and asked, “Hey, do they have Crabby Coffee where you’re from?”

Danny paused, something suspicious in his eyes. Then he smiled and asked in an almost casual tone of voice, “What, you don't believe I'm a local?”

Tim snorted. “You asked me if Arkham was an arcade just last week. Besides, you don’t have the right accent.”

“Fair,” Danny allowed with a shrug and a grin that was only slightly strained at the edges.

“So...?”

“I’m from Amity Park,” Danny said in a way that indicated that he didn’t like the fact, mumbling the last words as he looked away from Tim

Tim pretended to be surprised. “Amity? Never heard of it. Is it known for anything special?” And then he almost winced at his own clumsy and obvious fishing for information. Bruce would be so disappointed if he saw this. Okay, maybe he was more sleep-deprived than he thought.

It was lucky that Danny seemed distracted by some sort of inner conflict as he shuffled from foot to foot, not meeting Tim's gaze. “Well… It's a tourist thing…”

“Oh? Like what?” And now Tim was interested why Danny seemed so hesitant to share. Not a mystery, Tim reminded himself.

Danny deflated, looking defeated. “It's ghosts.” Then he switched to the overly-enthusiastic way of speaking inherent to all slogans, clearly mimicking some commercial, “Come on down to America's most haunted town! Guaranteed to scare the ghost right out of you!” and then in a fast paced mutter, “The city of Amity Park is not liable to retrieve any ghosts that decide to leave their bodies during your visit.”

Score.

“That's so cool!” Tim didn't even have to fake his interest as he asked, “Was it really? Haunted?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Danny hedged.

Tim gestured at Danny with his coffee cup. “I'm asking you.”

Danny paused with a worried frown on his face that he quickly tried to hide, looking at Tim intently as if he tried to work something out. Then he shook his head and simply said, “No.”

And it was the first time Tim had detected a lie from his new friend. Which meant that he did know something. Tim felt himself get excited at the prospect of a challenge, a mystery, and this time it was connected to their current problems which meant that it was fair game. He finally had a lead and he refused to let it go.

Why would Danny lie about his town being haunted? Was he scared of being made fun of? Didn’t he think that Tim would believe him? Ghosts was a rather eccentric thing for your town to be known for, maybe he had been ridiculed before.

Or maybe, a more jaded part of his brain supplied, he had been threatened to not say anything. Maybe he was hiding something.

Maybe Tim would have to show him some things related to ghosts and see how he reacted sooner rather than later.

“You sure?”

“Yes. It's not haunted.”

“Ah, so it's just a tourist trap, then? To make money?” Tim asked, trying to keep the excited interest out of his voice, trying to keep the conversation casual.

Danny wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, but it's nothing special. Just like any small town, you know?”

“Some people always take it a bit more seriously, right? There's always some believers,” Tim fished for more information. In every tourist attraction that claimed to be the home of Bigfoot or Mothman there was always someone who actually believed in what they were selling.

And if they believed, maybe they had some real information. Maybe even ways of combating them.

“Yeah, sure. There's those that believe and even—” Danny paused, swallowed, and then said, with real anger in his voice, “even some nut jobs that claim to study ghosts.”

Some people were studying ghosts? Tim made a mental note to look into them.

Danny cleared his throat as if embarrassed by his outburst and asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Tim allowed the subject-change, not willing to push it and risk Danny suspecting him. “Haven’t you seen all the new villains on the news? They look kinda ghostly, don’t they?”

“Most newspapers write about them as if they’re a new kind of meta-humans.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tim shrugged. “But I don’t think ghosts would be much stranger.”

“You’re not scared?” Danny asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Of course!” Tim laughed. “But I don’t see why they would be more dangerous just because they’re dead. If anything, that only shows that they’ve already been killed once!”

Danny smiled at that and Tim took it as a win. His new friend might not feel comfortable opening up about everything just yet, but at least he could show that he’s open to talking about it when he was.

[6okuto]

ASTROLOGY BOT

1.2k words, just timeskip akaashi overthinking and crushing on gn!reader. LOL

akaashi has always considered himself ‘on the fence’ when it comes to superstitions and signs from the universe.

he might say ghosts aren’t real, but never goes near a supposedly haunted site just in case. he’ll ignore videos titled “for you” if he can’t relate, say it must have been a sign only after something goes wrong, and never acts on them even if he knows he has to.

but he can’t deny that he thinks about it throughout the day when it’s something he hopes is true—that maybe he’s tried out a few filters and trends to see if you, his crush of way too long, were his soulmate.

it’s bokuto this time, though, that sends him a sign.

a tweet, really.

an astrology bot on twitter that tweeted 17 minutes ago— “sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you, too.”

AKAASHI!!!

i told you!!!

i turned their post notifications on to see if they’d say anything funny again and LOOK!!!!

keiji watches his friend’s texts come in through as notifications, eyes mostly fixed on the tweet, re-reading it over and over.

it’s a minute before he texts back.

it’s just a bot bokuto

it doesn’t actually mean anything

but bokuto is typing replies in mere seconds,

awwwww come on :((

remember when they were like

be careful virgo they don’t have the best intentions >:(

and IT WAS ABOUT ME ALMOST GETTING SCAMMED!! THEY STOPPED A SCAM!!! O____O

whats the worst thing that could happen???

i mean.. well…at least the worst thing that could happen ISNT u losing a bunch of money T_____T

imagine if u lost hundreds of dollars bc u confessed ;——; scary…

keiji breathes out a laugh.

i won’t lose hundreds of dollars but it’d haunt me for the rest of my life like every other embarrassing thing that’s ever happened and u know that

but thank you

i’ll think about telling them

he’s vaguely aware of bokuto sending another text with his name in all caps before he turns off his phone. it lands somewhere beside him on his comforter, and he takes off his glasses if only to run his hands down his face.

there’s a feeling he gets, akin to both butterflies and a 10 meter drop, when one of these bots decides to let his imagination get away from him.

for a few minutes keiji lets himself think it might be true, and that you think about going on dates with him the same way he does with you.

the latest idea he had was taking you to a new board game cafe that had opened nearby. he had skipped then swiped back up to its ad—a perfect spot for couples looking to spice up a regular cafe date!

he hadn’t closed his curtains properly that night, and the moon lit up his room while he stared at the ceiling. would you be competitive? would you rather play a co-op game?

would you see him sipping on his drink, and ask to have a taste?

he thought about how he might accidentally have some foam above his lip, and how you’d softly laugh before tapping above your own to signal his appearance. he cringed at the possible humiliation of looking silly in front of you, but it went away with the foam you’d gently swipe with your thumb, or maybe even hold his face to kiss away instead. you’d tease him and say it was as sweet as him.

but it’s nonsensical.

as far as keiji knows, whoever runs the account is using a random generator to pick a sign and bullshitting every tweet in their drafts.

it’s almost always only a sentence anyway.

but does that mean it’s a sign that this one was two?

keiji forces himself to stop thinking and takes a deep breath, letting the warmth hit his palms still covering his face. silence washes over him, and he lets his ears focus on the traffic outside, and the sound of the washing machine running a couple of rooms away.

but then he thinks about you. and he scrunches his eyes shut and groans, hands moving to grip his hair before he rolls over onto his stomach.

there’s a thud as his phone hits the ground while he pulls the blanket to cover his head.

sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you, too.

sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you, too.

not just tell them you like them, as if it was a shove to be courageous for once, but they like you, too.

did you like him, too?

was he good enough for you to like him?

did you hate him?

was he going to trust an astrology bot as uninformed about your feelings as he was?

maybe more importantly, was he going to let a bot dictate whether he finally confesses to you after almost a year of pining? a year based on the fact that one day you held the elevator door open for him with a smile and already knew what floor he needed?

(you had noticed him as the new employee, though he didn’t notice you while busy getting used to his job. he made sure to note the fact you got off the floor above him so he could press the button for you next time.)

and keiji doesn’t really believe in signs or the supernatural. he doesn’t want to let himself, because if he does then there’s probably a ghost in that shut-down building on his way to work, he’s gotten himself twenty years of bad luck, and he’s big enough of a coward that the universe decided to take it upon itself to tell him that itself.

but he’s hiding under his blanket when the absurdity of it all hits him—the anxiety and what-ifs and pretending he didn’t know you liked going for lunch a little earlier than him, and that he didn’t plan his break to say hello—and he feels like he’s sixteen again.

and maybe if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to feel other than being rejected, he thinks it’s being sixteen again.

so he jolts up.

and somewhere, in the back of his mind, keiji wonders if the universe jolted up with him, excited to see where this goes.

adrenaline working, he reaches for his glasses and fumbles to put them on with one hand while the other feels the floor to find his phone. the bright screen makes him squint, and the notification of bokuto’s “AKAASHIII :((” welcomes him before anything else.

sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you too.

the tweet seems to be engraving itself into his mind as his shaky fingers hold his phone, and he taps your icon.

he skims the last text you had sent,

thanks keiji!! i’ll see u tomorrow then :) and remember we get off early!

it's a little embarrassing how his chest tightens at you his name and a smiley face. but he goes to type one himself, spending a second to mentally tell the astrology account they’re changing lives, but nothing more or else he thinks he might throw up—

btw if you’re free, did you want to grab food after work? there’s a cafe i wanted to check out with you :)

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

“Every year, about 25,000 (UK) women who give birth — approximately 4 per cent — are so distressed that they meet the diagnostic criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder. That makes birth one of the biggest causes of PTSD in the UK according to the Birth Trauma Association charity – probably coming second only to sexual abuse and rape. Hundreds of thousands more women are traumatised. This is a major health crisis. And yet it is barely discussed…

According to figures from NHS Resolution, the arm of the Department of Health and Social Care that handles litigation, 62 per cent of the total clinical negligence cost of harm in 2022-23 (£6.6 billion) related to maternity.”

When my husband and I left for hospital on a Friday afternoon, we had no idea what would happen. The next few hours would change my life. For good and bad. It had all started with a cervical sweep the day before. I was 40 weeks and 4 days pregnant and, frankly, I’d had enough. My pregnancy had been uncomplicated in terms of my baby — she was healthy throughout, albeit had spent much of her time in the back-to-back position. But I had found the nine months increasingly difficult. From around 20 weeks I’d suffered from pelvic girdle pain, which, for me, meant increasingly agonising pain in my lower back. Walking and other everyday movements became difficult. The only place I felt vaguely comfortable was in water. Swimming was a relief.

Women are offered a sweep to help induce labour. A midwife inserts their finger and sweeps around your cervix. It’s about as basic as you can get. They’re trying to separate the membranes of the amniotic sac that surround the baby from your cervix. This then releases hormones, which may help start your labour. “Some women find the procedure uncomfortable or painful,” NHS guidelines say. I found it excruciating.

“Oh,” the midwife said, as I lay in a rather compromised position. “I might have broken your waters.” This didn’t make sense to me. I’d always assumed that when my waters broke, I’d know about it. Apparently not always, and I was instructed to call the hospital if contractions hadn’t begun within 24 hours as I was now potentially at risk of infection.

They didn’t start. And I did what I’d been asked. The voice on the phone was chirpy — everything sounded fine, stay at home, we’ll be seeing you soon enough. Half an hour later, my phone rang. “Where are you? You’re meant to be at the hospital,” the woman said angrily. I needed to come in immediately to be examined.

It was late Friday afternoon and it was busy. We took the last of the beds in maternity triage. And my waters broke in earnest. That solved the mystery, I suggested. No, I was told, and the water birth I’d hoped for was out of the question — too risky.

Strong and regular contractions started immediately. We were moved to a glorified cupboard that had been turned into a makeshift holding room. I was denied any pain relief because it was “too early”, and told that someone would bring me some paracetamol when they came to “examine” me.

It seems obvious when you think about it, but I had never been told what being “examined” meant. Nor thought about it. It sounds medical. But it’s literally a midwife sticking their fingers inside you. I was 3cm dilated. Plenty of time to go, apparently. It was 9.30pm. I felt sick and in enormous pain. Both were dismissed — until I vomited everywhere. And lost control of my bowels. This would happen several more times over the coming hours. I felt utterly ashamed. Again, it’s common — but I hadn’t been told.

I continued to ask for pain relief and continued to receive none. An hour later, I was 7cm dilated — in full labour — and finally received some paracetamol. There was no space on the labour ward. In just another half an hour, I was fully dilated and ready for the baby to come out. No one seemed to know what to do. The midwives were panicking. And that made me scared. This was my first baby. I didn’t know what to expect. We were rushed to the ward. Already, nothing had gone the way I wanted, or the way it had been talked about at National Childbirth Trust (NCT) classes. Eventually, I was given gas and air to ease the pain. But only for about 20 minutes. Apparently it was “distracting” me too much and I needed to push.

Two hours later there was still no baby and I was in agony. A doctor arrived, took a brief look and said cheerily, “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to get that baby out.” And then he left. My maternity notes state, “PLAN: continue pushing.” I have no idea what this refers to — like so many of my notes. There was no plan. If there was, it wasn’t one I had agreed to. Finally, after another hour the decision was made that the doctor would use a ventouse — a suction cup that sits on your baby’s head — to help deliver my baby. Apparently I consented to this, but I have no recollection of doing so. And I’m ashamed to say I didn’t know what was being asked of me. My doctor didn’t use the word ventouse. He used “Kiwi”, which is a type of ventouse. At the time, I didn’t know what either were.

I remember screaming in pain and then my daughter finally being born. She was placed on my chest for less than a minute. I was examined, told I had a fourth-degree tear that must be repaired and that I needed to sign a consent form for surgery straight away. “Look at the state of her,” my usually mild-mannered husband said. “How can she possibly sign a form?” I couldn’t. The writing on that form is barely legible, but they would not proceed without it.

I had no idea what had happened. I lay in an operating theatre in pain, silent tears rolling down my face. I was frightened. The anaesthetist was amazing and stayed with me while I was repaired. I am so grateful for that, at least. But I also feel guilty about it. It was half past three on a Saturday morning and she was the only anaesthetist on duty at the London hospital. Other women may well not have received the pain relief they needed because of me. “Will I be able to have any more children?” I asked as I stared at the ceiling.

After surgery I was moved to the high dependency unit (HDU) and reunited with my daughter. I finally held and fed her for the first time. That morning is a blur. My notes tell me we stayed in the HDU for five hours before being moved to a ward. It was there that I attempted to understand what had happened to me. I was in pain, barely able to move and soaked in blood. I asked various midwives to explain what had gone on. They repeated that I’d had a fourth-degree tear, but I didn’t know what that meant. One line, in scribbled handwriting, stands out when I look at my notes: “We don’t have any written info about fourth-degree tears.”

Eventually, a midwife appeared with some information they’d printed off after googling it. As I read it, I sobbed. I was 35 years old and thought my life was over; that I would be incontinent. And still no doctor came to explain. The medic who’d delivered my daughter was eventually marched to my bedside more than 48 hours later.

I am perhaps unusual in that I’ve always wanted children. We had done what many middle-class suburban couples did at that time and attended NCT classes. The underlying message of these was: try to avoid a caesarean section at all costs. “Natural” births were best, and even better just to breathe through it. No need for pain relief. I remember in our penultimate class bringing up the subject of tearing during labour. I had seen a TV feature on it that week and it struck me as important. “If most of us are going to tear to some degree, it would be really helpful to talk about that,” I remember saying. “It would be good to know how best to care for ourselves afterwards, that kind of thing.” The answer was no, there was no need. Instead, we proceeded to get on all fours and “moo” like cows and then practise putting nappies on a doll.

Up to nine in ten first-time mothers who have a vaginal birth will experience some sort of tear. The least invasive kind involves only the skin from the vagina and the perineum — the area between a woman’s vagina and anus. These tears usually heal quickly and without any treatment. Second-degree tears involve the muscle of the perineum and require stitches. Third and fourth-degree tears are the most serious. These involve not just tearing of the skin and muscle of the perineum but the muscle of the anus. In fourth-degree tears, the injury can extend into the lining of the bowel. These deeper tears need proper surgical repair under anaesthetic.

I don’t really have any happy memories of the first few days or weeks after we left the hospital. I was completely in love with my baby, but I felt shellshocked. I couldn’t process what had happened and there was no one who offered to help me. A different midwife was sent to our house every couple of days to weigh our daughter. I had no milk the first few days and she had lost a fair bit of weight. Even when my milk came in, I found breastfeeding painful and difficult, in large part because it hurt so much to sit down.

I cried quietly every day for several months. Often it would come completely out of nowhere. I’d be talking or watching television and I would just start to cry. Several midwives wrote in my notes in those early weeks the same phrase: “Mum is anxious.” I don’t think I was. I was traumatised. Several weeks later, I was told that I was “lucky” by the midwife examining my stitches. Apparently the doctors had done a “wonderful” job at repairing me and it looked “beautiful”. I now know that I was fortunate to be repaired properly and immediately after the birth. But the last thing I felt — then or now — was lucky.

After several months I desperately needed to have some control over my life again. I had never felt so helpless, lost and infantilised. But my overarching feeling was anger. I wrote to the chief executive and chair of the hospital to complain and was invited in for a debrief. The head of midwifery was lovely, apologised and followed through on her promise to try to prevent other women facing the appalling lack of communication I had. The hospital now has a specialist perineal health clinic too.

But the attitude of the consultant obstetrician whom I met with my husband floored us both. It was about six months after the birth, but I was still under the care of a consultant urogynaecologist. (I subsequently had two further operations: the first 14 months after giving birth to remove an undissolved stitch that was causing pain but hadn’t been spotted, and another six months after that.) My urogynaecologist had told me not even to consider giving birth vaginally again. The risk was too great, he explained. If I tore again, there was a 30 per cent chance I couldn’t be repaired and I’d be incontinent. The obstetrician said the opposite — don’t rule it out! I saw red. “How dare you,” I growled. I remember saying that he would never be so cavalier about a man’s body.

Every year, about 25,000 women who give birth — approximately 4 per cent — are so distressed that they meet the diagnostic criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder. That makes birth one of the biggest causes of PTSD in the UK according to the Birth Trauma Association charity – probably coming second only to sexual abuse and rape. Hundreds of thousands more women are traumatised. This is a major health crisis. And yet it is barely discussed.

“Birth trauma is a broad term, but generally it’s overwhelming distress that leads to a detrimental impact on well-being,” explains Susan Ayers, professor of maternal and child health at City University in London. Estimates “range massively”, she says, but having conducted research into birth trauma for almost 30 years, Ayers puts it at about a third. “If you ask women whether they thought they or their baby was going to die or be severely injured, then it’s around 19-20 [per cent] in the UK. But if people just ask women, ‘Was your birth traumatic?’ some of those estimates are up to 50 per cent.”

“I’M BEATRICE’S MUM,” EMILY SAID, introducing herself to a committee of MPs in March. “Beatrice died during labour at full term in May 2022.” Emily is one of a number of brave women who have shared their traumatic birth stories with the all-party parliamentary group (APPG) on birth trauma, during the first parliamentary inquiry into this issue.

“As soon as my labour started,” Emily explained, “I knew it wasn’t right, wasn’t normal.” The details are harrowing: a series of obvious but missed red flags and an attitude from medical professionals that can only be described as cruel. The midwife who shrugged her shoulders when Emily’s waters were meconium-stained; the consultant obstetrician who laughed at the “slimy” feel of that meconium while her hand was still inside Emily.

“The ultrasound scanning machine was brought in and showed that Beatrice’s heartbeat had stopped,” she explained. “At that point I begged, pleaded like I’ve never pleaded for anything in my life for a caesarean, and that consultant obstetrician refused. She said no. And she left.”

“It’s destroyed my life,” Emily says now. “I’m not the person I was before.”

This inquiry has been led by the APPG’s co-chairs, the Conservative MP Theo Clarke and Labour’s Rosie Duffield. They received more than 1,200 written submissions after asking women to share their experiences; that number doubles if you count the letters and emails they’ve been sent informally.

“The thing that’s really struck me is there seems to be a taboo around talking about the risk of childbirth,” Clarke tells me when I sit down with both women in Westminster. There shouldn’t be, she adds. “Something we’ve heard from a number of the mothers coming to speak to us is that there’s such a focus on the baby post-delivery, they almost forget there’s a second patient in the room, and that’s the mother.”

“I was constantly told by GPs that I had nothing wrong with me,” one mother, Sarah, told the MPs. She experienced a major tear that doctors and midwives failed to diagnose. “I was discharged two days later with [an] untreated tear, which very quickly led to enormous amounts of pain, incontinence, faecal incontinence and thinking I was going mad.”

“It’s very painful,” explained Jenny, who also experienced a serious tear that was left untreated, “but the long-term consequences of an unrepaired tear are that I had to give up my job. I’ve suffered PTSD, anxiety, depression. My activities are restricted. My life is impacted in that I have to meticulously plan my day around toilets.”

Another mother, Neera, lost three litres of blood and required more than ten hours of life-saving emergency surgery the day her daughter was born. The haemorrhage had not been picked up by staff. She said she is fortunate to have had the “means and support” to access mental healthcare over four and a half years of her five-year-old’s life. “I have personally spent over £6,000 and received more than 50 hours of mental health support,” she told parliament.

The women who have spoken to politicians as part of the inquiry had different medical experiences. But there were obvious similarities. Their concerns and their pain were dismissed. They were not treated with respect or, in some cases, like human beings. They felt helpless, angry and scared. “Nobody really cares about women,” says Kim Thomas, CEO of the Birth Trauma Association. “What we tend to find with most of these stories is there’s failure after failure after failure. Lots of things go physically wrong… and that continues afterwards in the postnatal period with really poor care.” Almost all women seeking out the charity say their experience was made much worse by the way they were treated during labour. “The number of stories we hear of women being shouted at by midwives or laughed at by midwives is quite extraordinary.”

Birth doesn’t have to be this way. And it isn’t for many women. But women, in England in particular, could — and should — be having better experiences than they are.

Let’s start with serious tears. The number one risk factor is being a first-time mum. There’s nothing much that can be done about that. But the next is having an instrumental vaginal delivery — and in particular one that uses forceps. “Data indicates that we use more forceps than other parts of Europe,” says Dr Ranee Thakar, president of the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists (RCOG). While rates in several European countries hover at around 0 per cent, a 2023 study of assisted births in 13 high-income countries found England used forceps in a higher proportion of births — about 11 per cent — than any other.

There are cases where forceps must be used. When babies are premature, suction would cause too much damage to the head. But that’s doesn’t explain the discrepancy. “It’s education,” Thakar explains. “We should be trained to do both [forceps and ventouse], so that we provide the best care to women and use the right instrument for the right baby and the right mother.”

The risk of a severe tear when forceps are used is at least twice as high as with ventouse: 8-12 per cent compared with 4 per cent. Women should be told this. The recent parliamentary inquiry heard other suggestions that might explain why forceps use in England is so high. The consultant gynaecologist and obstetrician Dr Nitish Raut explained that when poor outcomes of childbirth become part of litigation, the question, “Why were forceps not applied earlier?” will be asked. Although they can cause injury to mothers, forceps are the most effective instrument for getting a baby out. If a doctor tries and fails to deliver a baby with the less invasive ventouse first, a record will be made at the hospital trust. It was suggested by others that this might also be pushing some doctors straight to forceps use even when they might not be necessary.

“Training is a really key part of everything here,” Posy Bidwell, deputy head of midwifery at South Warwickshire Foundation Trust, told MPs. “If we can train people, we can prevent these injuries happening. Many midwifery students wouldn’t know the impact that these injuries are having on women.”

Newly qualified midwives did not know enough about perineal damage, and yet they’re providing one-to-one care to women. Current training did not seem to see it as a priority: while several aspects of maternity care are mandatory each year, suturing and perineal protection are not.

Neither doctors nor midwives appear to be taught how to routinely examine women after they have given birth either. Where this was once part of mandatory medical training, doctors are no longer encouraged to do it, Raut explained.

England is short of as many as 2,500 midwives, the Royal College of Midwives (RCM) estimates, although people are wanting to train and join the profession. Donna Ockenden, who is reviewing maternity services at Nottingham and who previously did so at Shrewsbury and Telford Hospitals NHS Trust, cautions against being too optimistic, however. The focus needs to be on retention. “Two midwives don’t equal two midwives,” she told parliament, “of we are losing midwives with 20, 30, 35 years’ experience… and they’re then being replaced by a more junior workforce, who are not being supported in those early days of their career.”

In the past decade and a half, the UK has seen several NHS maternity scandals — in Morecambe Bay, Shrewsbury and Telford, and East Kent. In all these cases, some of the poor care provided to mothers and their babies was because of a push towards “normal” or “natural” birth and a desire to keep caesarean section rates low. The RCM ended its campaign for “normal births” in 2017, but its legacy persists. Some NHS trusts still talk about them today. A culture of cover-ups and a lack of care remains in others. Just last month, the Care Quality Commission found that staff at Great Western Hospital in Swindon had been downgrading third and fourth-degree tears, “which meant they were not investigated as thoroughly as they should” have been. The c-section target was only officially dropped in 2022. Does RCOG now accept that it was a mistake? “It’s difficult for me to say years later whether it was a mistake or not,” Thakar tells me. “I think there was a general trend at the time to put figures to caesarean section rates. But now we know that, we don’t do that.” It was now right that women were offered a choice; she insists she hasn’t seen an attitude against caesareans more recently.

Aside from any physical and psychological impact, traumatic births are costing the country billions. According to figures from NHS Resolution, the arm of the Department of Health and Social Care that handles litigation, 62 per cent of the total clinical negligence cost of harm in 2022-23 (£6.6 billion) related to maternity. Of the £2.6 billion spent on clinical negligence payments that year, £1.1 billion (41 per cent) related to maternity. (As the fact-checking service Full Fact explains, the cost of harm differs from the amount actually paid out in compensation: the former includes an estimate of claims expected in the future arising from incidents in that financial year.) The year before, maternity services accounted for 60 per cent of the total clinical negligence cost of harm (£13.6 billion). NHS England spends about £3 billion a year on maternity and neonatal services.

There is such a long way to go. The government is well behind on its long-term target of halving the rates of stillbirth and neonatal mortality by 2025; the death of mothers within 42 days of the end of pregnancy is at its highest rate in almost 20 years. And while only a handful of trusts have been subject to official investigations, there are signs that poor care is happening across the country. Only half of maternity units in England are rated good or outstanding; one in ten is inadequate. That is a damning indictment of the way so many women are cared for.

One crucial area of improvement does not cost money at all. It requires a shift in attitude to one where women are treated with respect, listened to and allowed to make informed decisions about their bodies and babies.

When I first heard of parliament’s inquiry into birth trauma, it was never my intention to share my experience. Doing so has been upsetting and uncomfortable. But as I sat listening to other women talk about how giving birth had affected them so profoundly, it felt dishonest to stay quiet. Difficult births are not something we should feel ashamed of — much as I know many women will have been, myself included.

[cilil]

Headcanons, re: Melkor's and Manwë's origins and relation

So when it comes to Melkor and Manwë I find myself in a bit of a "headcanon dilemma". On one hand, I really like the idea of them being twins, but on the other hand, a lot of stuff that I personally hc regarding their interpersonal dynamic and conflict rests on the basic assumption that Melkor is older than Manwë - not too much, as in not on the same level as I hc for the Fëanturi (with Námo practically raising Irmo), but a noticeable, significant amount. Enough for Melkor to have spent some time alone with Eru, let's say.

(Side note: I am aware of that one line stating they were coeval. What I'm going to say next will address how I'm trying to solve that conflict and afterwards I'll cycle back to it to explain why I felt like deviating from it/not taking it as literally.)

I've been rotating this back and forth in my head for a while, trying to figure out how I can fit these two ideas together, and what occurred to me now are two things:

The Timeless Halls. Timeless. Time doesn't exist as we know it there ("Then those of the Ainur who desired it arose and entered into the World at the beginning of Time" - Valaquenta)

Ainur are made from Eru's thoughts ("and Eru made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought" - Ainulindalë)

With this in mind, as well as the fact that Ainur are spirit beings in general and exist outside of most "biological realities" (for lack of a better term) that inform the relations and interactions between incarnate beings, I think that Ainur twins don't have to be the same age. While coeval is defined as "of the same or equal age, antiquity, or duration" (source: Merriam-Webster), therefore having a clear temporal dimension to it, I would say that, under the above mentioned circumstances, such a notion would be more vague, have less clear boundaries.

(Personally, I see all of the Aratar as more or less "coeval", with the non-Arata Valar being a sort of "second generation" or "later additions" if you will, and the Maiar being made some time after them. My headcanon is that Eru had no plans to raise every single Ainu individually and only did so for the oldest Aratar, later relying on them and subsequently the other Valar and older generation of Maiar to raise and teach the young Ainur (and yes, parentification is a thing and yes, in real life it's a problem).)

Now cycling back to my original "issue" with the coeval line (not really, but just the reason why I wanted to read it a little differently), I felt like it was a bit... strange? thematically. Again, the part of Melkor and Manwë being essentially the evil and good twin is a dynamic I really like, but they're "made" from rather different "blueprints".

While Manwë has a special position as the Elder King, the other Aratar are his peers ("Though Manwë is their King and holds their allegiance under Eru, in majesty they are peers" - Valaquenta) and he's very much like any other Vala in the sense that he has one particular domain that informs his nature and where his talents lie and outside of that he relies on cooperation with his fellow Valar.

Melkor on the other hand (though don't get me wrong, he wasn't supposed to never go without any sort of collaboration or support) is special in the sense that he has a share in the other Valar's domains ("To Melkor among the Ainur had been given the greatest gifts of power and knowledge, and he had a share in all the gifts of his brethren." - Ainulindalë) and he's so vastly more powerful that he was able to hold his own against everyone else for a long time:

"Melkor must be made far more powerful in original nature (cf. 'Finrod and Andreth'). The greatest power under Eru (sc. the greatest created power).(1) (He was to make I devise I begin; Manwe (a little less great) was to improve, carry out, complete.) Later, he must not be able to be controlled or 'chained' by all the Valar combined. Note that in the early age of Arda he was alone able to drive the Valar out of Middle-earth into retreat." (Melkor Morgoth, Morgoth's Ring)

In my mind, it doesn't really "fit" for Eru to make this twin pair of Valar, born at the same time and presumably first, before all the other Ainur, and have one be this super powerful, not domain-bound Vala and the other being significantly less strong and very much domain-bound, as well as further restricted by not comprehending evil ("For Manwë was free from evil and could not comprehend it" - Of Fëanor and the Unchaining of Melkor).

What it does fit into is this idea prevalent in a lot of medieval narratives (broadly speaking) that the eldest son is special and usually the "greatest" and "most powerful", according to whichever metric is important in any given context. This idea can be found in Tolkien's works as well, one notable example being Fëanor.

Therefore I like to hc that Eru made Melkor first and, dare I say, made him in his own image as well. But then he quickly realized Melkor's potential for evil/his shortcomings/wasn't fully content with how he turned out/wanted to course-correct and "continued the thought" Melkor had come from, adding Manwë as his twin brother to balance him out; not in power, but in nature and purpose.

And the reason why Manwë knew that Melkor was like him originally, but at first failed to see what he turned himself into ("and he knew that in the beginning, in the thought of Ilúvatar, Melkor had been even as he; and he saw not to the depths of Melkor’s heart, and did not perceive that all love had departed from him for ever" - same source as last quote, sentence continued) is because Manwë came from that same thought.

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So yeah, just my two cents and I want to stress again that these are my headcanons and my currently preferred reading and understanding of the above lines; the goal is never to say "you can't have your headcanons and here's why".