#she really did have a no good very bad day

[utilitycaster]

1. My biggest isssue (as a POC) is when is a character POC or otherized? Do we use IRL or in world? Beau is Human, brown woman. At no point in C2 is the fact that she is brown comes up other than discriptions. Her humaness is what matters especially in the COB. She is treated the same aa Caleb. Fjord, Nott and Molly havs far more in text displays of racism towards them. Ppl dismiss jester as being "white" but insist dorian is poc. When in world they are the same colour.

2. And teiflings would be more discriminated against. I know robbie is poc and dorian is blue but hes a genasi. In the world of exandria i view him and ashton as the same race. So i see these weird arguments online and its always a cross steam trying to use both in world races and irl to prove a point. Since i am examining the world of exandria i use the races displayed there and no attention to what the people look like irl. Also it avoids unintentional sterotyping down the road

3. An example ppl drawing drow and ashton with black racial features (my own) and then someone else complaing that the fandom made the asshole and the would be villian into black men. This fanon has unintended consequences once the story is fully fleshed out. Saying Orym is non white (despite Liams art direction) is bad because people to this day are mad Marisha made beau dark. It cant be both way. This way ppl can headcanon stuff so they dont have 2 go looking for other ips for representation.

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So this is a really good point and I am, as said, an ethnic/religious minority but not a racial one and so this is how I tend to interpret this stuff in fantasy works, especially ones that have multiple species (humans, elves, etc) as it's not limited to Critical Role (ie, happens in Dragon Age too), which I think is what you're saying here but feel free to let me know if I'm wrong:

There's "is this character treated, in-world, as racialized" (which is often more contextual in a lot of fictional works in a way it is not IRL due to patterns of colonialism in our world, which is a long conversation I'm probably not equipped to articulate well, but just as an example, Fjord is racialized as a half-orc on the Menagerie Coast, but half-orcs in Yios, for example would have a very different experience). In other words, do people within the work of fiction discriminate against them on the basis of race? Anyway, as you said, Fjord, Molly, Jester, and Veth in her goblin form are treated as The Other; Fjord (and Molly, though his memory is only a few years long) grew up with this experience whereas Jester and Veth grew up, for different reasons, sheltered from or unaffected by that discrimination. Beau didn't experience racism in-world, nor did Veth in her halfling form, despite both of them being visibly nonwhite. For a Dragon Age example, Bellara, Davrin, and Antoine grew up with racism as elves, but Neve did not (and indeed comments on using her privilege as a human mage among human mages) despite being visibly nonwhite (and despite Antoine being white).

There's then "is this character treated out of world as racialized", or in other words, do fans treat them as nonwhite. This is also complicated, and this is something I can speak to as Jewish people who are not also POC experience 'conditional whiteness', ie, when right-wing people want to hate Jews we are the nonwhite infiltrator and when left-wing (and often themselves white) people want to hate them they are the white oppressor. So racist fans will hate characters who are nonwhite (like Beau) and fans trying to prove their blorbo cannot be criticized on the basis of oppression. In this case, Beau and Veth are nonwhite; Fjord and Jester often vary depending on what argument the person wants to make; Molly, as opposed to Jester, is almost NEVER drawn with nonwhite features (which frankly says a LOT of unflattering things about the white queer centering, now that I think about it); etc.

And then there's "is the actor/creator racialized in real life," ie, Robbie, Aabria, Anjali, Utkarsh, Aimee, Christian, Mica, Khary, etc are all POC and the main cast are not. Most of their characters are nonwhite, but few are racialized - Shakaste, Deanna, Bor'Dor, Opal, Deni$e, and Reani do not experience racism within this setting. Genasi (as played by Anjali, Robbie, and Taliesin) are a complicated case of being tokenized/model minority within the Empire, and the Silken Squall being inspired by native culture but their role within the world only slightly touched upon such that it's hard to draw a definitive conclusion.

And, since I referenced it in the tags elsewhere, for an NPC case: Essek is racialized by the people of the Empire (as a drow) along with the rest of the Dynasty; he is not racialized within the Dynasty and is indeed in a privileged position there; and whether or not he's treated as nonwhite by the fandom depends on whether someone wants to hate on him or defend him on the basis of identity. He is an NPC, and Matt's white, but in theory could be controlled by a nonwhite GM such as Aabria, or a nonwhite player in the way that Robbie played Cerkonos.

Anyway: completely agree that a lot of people do this in the end so that they don't have to seek out like, Desiquest or Rivals of Waterdeep or Into the Motherlands or other APs run by actual real nonwhite people either because of parasocial connections to the cast, the fact that CR has a larger fandom and they want the attention, or the fact that often they are here for white queer characters and bring in nonwhite characters (and headcanons of white characters) as some kind of armor against criticism.

I think in terms of character interpretation you do need to consider both in-world (Fjord is textually treated as the racial other to the point of self-harming to fit in; you cannot treat him as The Racial Majority in the world without being noncanonical) and out-of-world (irl people are racist towards Beau) but yeah a lot of people really want to have it both ways.

This happens a lot with queerness too - one of the big backlashes I experienced during this campaign is when I pointed out that Exandria is not, in fact, a setting with systemic homophobia and Imogen's experience of being othered in Gelvaan is an extremely bad metaphor for queerness given that she can read people's minds and almost killed two people, but it is true that people irl may be homophobic towards Imogen as a character. But again, you need to be consistent in those arguments - if you are talking about in-world racism or homophobia, you cannot bring up Imogen or Beau, who do not experience these things. If you are talking about fandom racism, you can bring up Beau. And if your issue is racism and representation in the real world, you can and should push back on (for example) people being racist towards Utkarsh for daring to exist and not know every rule of D&D when Emily Axford is onscreen but also we are watching a show of 8 white people when there are other actual plays with a more diverse cast. And yeah, fanon isn't canon and if the character is only nonwhite in your mind, it is not racist of people to disagree or to not vibe with them and it's also worth checking, if you are headcanoning someone with an identity you do not personally have, to see if you're falling into harmful stereotypes. Why are you headcanoning Orym, a character who doesn't experience in-world discrimination, played by a white man, as nonwhite, instead of seeking out works with textually nonwhite or racialized characters? And why are you incapable of accepting that sometimes you'll like a character who is not on every single axis of oppression and it's like, fine, provided you work against oppression in your real world life? If your faves are always white or always men (or, frankly, always demographically like you) then maybe take a look at yourself and who you are capable of relating to, but if you have a mixture of diverse favorite characters it's fine if not every one of them checks every single box.

[the-cxlt]

Group Therapy

It’s 6:55pm.

You walk into the room for the first time. It’s an all girl group, your counselor told you you’d be more comfortable in that type of setting. It’ll be a 2 hour session, which seems a bit long, but since seeing this new counselor you’ve always taken their advice.

The room is set up with chairs in a circle, “AA style” you think to yourself amusingly. There are 6 chairs in total, 3 of which have girls already in them and one where your counselor is seated. You realize another girl is behind you, presumably the last one, when your counselor calls out calmly, “That’s everyone Livvie, go ahead and close that door behind you,” and you hear the click of the door.

You suddenly feel something you’ve noticed a bit over the last week, since around the time you last saw your counselor. Almost like a… weakness… between your legs. It’s not a bad feeling at all, it feels amazing in fact, it’s just you’ve been feeling them at such random times lately is all. ‘This is probably not the best time’ you think to yourself. You decide to fight it off, as you mostly have this week, and you manage to let it pass.

You choose the seat directly across from your counselor, to your right are a pretty red haired girl and the girl he called Livvie, who sat down just after you. To your left are two equally pretty girls, both darker haired. As pretty as everyone is, you can’t help but think that Livvie is particularly pretty though. She is exactly your type. Something about her almost has you in a daze…

—“Hey everyone, looks like we’re all here now, we may as well get started! You all know me, I’m your ‘counselor’, but you all know to just call me Q.” Q starts, jolting you up from the day-dream state you got yourself in while admiring Livvie. “So we have two new faces here today, but the rest of you girls have done this a few times now, isn’t that right?” Your counselor pauses for a second and turns to Livvie, then to the dark haired girls, smiling warmly at them. You can’t help but notice how all their faces light up when they make eye contact, and how the girls nod excitedly. In fact, they’re almost shaking in their seats…

It’s 7:00pm.

Q asks the girls who had been to the group therapy before to tell ‘the two newbies’, as you and the red haired girl are called, about themselves, and how they’ve been feeling lately after doing these group sessions. Livvie starts. She talks very happily and confidently about how ‘ever since this group she has been feeling a million times better’, and it really did look that way. She looked happy, she was beautiful, she was sexy.

You couldn’t help but think it… you were sitting there pretty much drooling over her… You realize, just as she did before Q spoke, that something about her has almost put you into a trance.

You again snap out of it, and you try to casually wipe the corner of your mouth, feeling somewhat worried you may have actually had a pool of drool at the corner of your lips. There was no drool, “thankfully” you think to yourself briefly, “that would’ve been so embarrassing…”

The truth is though, sitting amongst all these pretty girls you do feel a bit embarrassed, you feel you may have looked silly. Suddenly, again, you get that pang of weakness between your legs.

“Woah, I’m really in my head right now” you think to yourself. It almost feels like you’re high. You realize you’ve drifted off into space again… but somehow… this time… you’re not snapping out of it. You’re aware of your surroundings, in fact you’re still looking at Livvie, but you almost feel… disconnected… from your own body.

It’s 7:05pm

As if you were in a dream, you’re watching yourself and the scene around you. You feel no panic though, in fact you feel really good. Really, really good. You can’t deny it at all, you’re horny. Very horny… This time, you do feel a drip of drool, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed again.

This somehow turns you on even more. “Fuck, this feels incredible… why is being embarrassed turning me on so much?” You don’t move to wipe away the drool this time, you just let it happen. Something about letting it happen feels so good.

“Are we all out?” Q asks aloud while standing up. Your counselor is smiling, almost laughing. You don’t respond, and neither does anyone else, as you dreamily look at the other girls. You notice that each one of them has a tiny stream of drool dripping from their mouths as well…

“You did so good, Livvie” Q starts again, pulling something out of a pocket, but you can’t quite tell what it is. “A little gift for you all to start…”

‘Click’.

That pang of weakness… of pleasure… you feel so fucking good. You are in your mind, but you’re still seeing the room. The three girls who’ve been here before are all sitting in their chairs… and they’re rubbing themselves between their legs above their clothes uncontrollably.

Q walks to each of them, and carresses their tits along the way, “Remember girls, this is how we start. After the count of 3, remind yourselves and say ‘We start by edging above our clothes’…

1…

2…

3…”

In near perfect unison Livvie and the dark haired girls repeat it back perfectly. They’re continuing to rub themselves as they do. You notice that Livvie has made a visible wet spot on the light coloured pants she’s wearing…

You and the red haired girl, the ‘newbies’ are clearly feeling similarly. Both of you have your hands squeezing your inner thighs. It’s almost like you can communicate with her and you’re both saying “I want to touch myself so bad, but some instinct deep within me is holding me back.”

As you’re thinking it to yourself Q has approached the red haired girl. Q’s hand gently pries one of hers from her thighs and places it directly between her legs instead. “Give in” you can hear the whisper across the room, “Rub above your clothes… edge…”

The red haired girl has in fact given in, in no time at all. Q is groping her tits while everyone else watches. She is rubbing her fingers all around her pussy above her tights. Livvie has begun to moan quietly, and the dark haired girls and breathing heavy too. You are the only girl in the room who is not rubbing herself. You desperately want to, but what’s left of your mind is also trying to fight it.

It’s 7:10pm

Q has approached you, smiling. “Hey, sweetheart,” while looking down at you. You haven’t been touched yet, but your body is screaming for it. “We’re going to make a special example out of you tonight…”

Q pulls something else from the other pocket, it appears to be a sort watch on a chain. There’s a symbol on it, and you realize something… it’s the same symbol that is on the shirt that Livvie is currently wearing…

“Stationary, this here has it’s affects. Especially after many weeks of one on one sessions...” Q is holding the symbol directly in front of your face. “But once it swings… it puts you into a whole different state…” and it begins to sway back and forth in front of your eyes. You’re being put into a state of no shame, the girls who’ve been here before know that, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You don’t want to do anything about it. You want to give in.

You feel the other girls eyes on you. You can see they’ve all made visible wet spots, they’re completely soaking, and they’re watching you get deeply hypnotized.

Your dream like view takes over, and you’re now only watching like a spectator. Q has stopped swaying the symbol, and is now wiping the drool from your face, while smiling again. You feel the touch and the way your body flutters from it, but otherwise you realize that you no longer have any control of yourself.

You’re told “Stand up.” You can see yourself standing, with your arms now at your side. Q moves behind you and grabs one of your hands, and places it firmly between your legs, with your index finger directly on your clit.

“We start by edging above our clothes,” Q says aloud, near your ear, grabbing your hand and forcing it to rub yourself. Then backs away, letting you continue to do it yourself, once you instinctively understand, and happily give in. “You’ll all repeat it after the count of 3… Newbies too, of course…

1…

2…

3…”

You see yourself say it aloud, in near perfect unison with all four other girls. You’re standing and rubbing yourself as they all watch you. Even as a spectator, you can still feel your wetness. It’s dripping down your legs…

“Again… tell me how we start. After 3…

1…

2…

3…

“We start by edging above our clothes” you all say in perfect unison.

It’s 7:15pm

10 minutes of being out while edging has the 3 girls a complete mess. You can actually hear how wet Livvie is when Q walks towards her, spreads her legs apart a little wider, and gently taps on the wet spot she’s made. “What a good girl,” Q whispers to her.

You and the red haired girl are also soaked, even though you’ve been edging for slightly less time. Q sits back down and is now facing you, looking you directly in the eye as you stand about 6 feet away.

“Stop rubbing, for a moment, and remove your top.” Is what Q says to you. “I will tell you when to start rubbing again.”

The deep instinct that was holding you back before has completely faded, and it’s been replaced with an urge, a primal need, to simply do as you’re told. You watch yourself pause from rubbing, and you immediately shift to removing your top. Your eyes are locked on Q’s as you mindlessly obey.

“Now remove the bra.” Q instructs. Somewhere internally you recognize that you’ll be fully topless in front of these 4 pretty girls. The cycle of humiliation and horniness hits again, it reinforces your mindlessness, your pleasure… You’re now watching yourself expose your tits to everyone.

You’re watching Livvie out of the corner of your eye shake in her seat as you stand there half naked. It’s so clear to you how desperately she wants to cum. She’s looking at your tits, and continuing to rub herself silly.

“Livvie, tell everyone what comes after edging above your clothes.” Q says, while still not breaking eye contact with you.

“Tits out… After we edge, we take our… tits out…” Livvie is somewhat drooling as she says it. She looks stupid, but she’s so clearly happy and horny and feeling good. Seeing her like that turns you on too. ‘I want to be like that’ you think cloudily before looking once again at yourself topless and exposed, and realizing “I am like that…”. That makes you smile more. And, you’re drooling again…

It’s 7:20pm

“Tits out. That’s right Livvie…” placing a hand on her inner thigh and rubbing it, almost lovingly, “Just like our newbie here (pointing at you, with the other hand), you will all take your Tits Out. After 3 you will begin removing your tops. You will remove your bras, too. You will all have your tits out…

Before the count Q looks at you, “…and you will pinch and twist your own nipples while watching the other girls get their tits out…

1…

2…

3…

You’re standing there, groping your own tits, watching the girls all strip around you. Treating your tits like that is driving you wild, you can feel yourself dripping even more down your inner thighs. You’re watching Livvie in particular, of course. To your satisfaction, her tits are amazing, and you realize she even has the same symbol tattooed on her chest.

You’re all now fully topless in the room. You’ve all scanned each others body countless times. None of you have the brainpower at the moment to do anything about it otherwise. You all want it, you all crave it.

You’re still mindlessly groping your tits as Q stands up again, and walks to you, whispering “You’re doing so good..” then, louder for everyone to hear, “Now after 3 all of you begin rubbing and squeezing just as she (Q’s hand is on your back) is now… pinch your nipples, twist them too, make it hurt a little… enjoy it, girls…

1…

2…

3!…”

And of course, all the girls begin groping themselves just as you have been. Livvie is consistently moaning now, as is the red haired girl. The dark haired girls both moan more sporadically, as do you. You can’t help it, it feels too good.

It’s 7:25pm

“Fuck, I might cum…” you think to yourself as you watch yourself abuse your own tits, and listen to even your moans grow louder. Suddenly, before you’re able to get there, Q cuts in sharply instructing, “Hands off your tits. Remove the rest of your clothes. 1... 2... 3!”

It’s so abrupt that it forces the edge for you. Hearing the counting trigger is all it takes for you to mindlessly obey. And before you can do anything about it, your hands have moved to unzipping your pants, and eagerly sliding off both the pants and panties.

You’re trembling and catching your breath after edging that hard. You would have never imagined that you’d be able to crave cumming so bad like that just from be rough with your own tits.

You now find yourself standing completely naked inside the circle of chairs. Your arms have dropped to their sides, there’s nothing for you to do but enjoying the feeling and await your next instructions. You feel so happy, so humiliated, so mindlessly in pleasure. You see the other girls around you, seated, but also now completely naked.

Your eyes dart to each of their pussies. Each of them are sitting back in the chairs comfortably, with their legs only slightly spread. You realize, however, that you’re all looking at each other’s pussies. It’s instinctive, none of you can help it. You love seeing them exposed, and you love being exposed for them.

“Seated girls slide to the edge of your chairs and spread your legs wide. And you (directed at you), drop onto your hands and knees. 1!.. 2!.. 3!”

Down to your knees you watch your naked body go. You find yourself on all fours, facing your counselor still, awaiting Q’s eyes to find you again, while still watching the girls around you slide downward on their chairs and spread their legs wide. All of their pussies are now about level with where your face is. You’re drooling, again.

It’s 7:30pm

Q opens a box that’s been under a chair, you’ve clearly been too mindless to even notice it. Your counselor is now holding a collar in one hand, and a leash in the other. Once again the two of you have locked eyes directly and you listen devotionally while receiving your next instructions.

“When you wear this collar you will act like a silly, happy pet. You will crawl on all fours, and you will wiggle your ass when you’re excited… 1… 2…”, the collar is slipped around your throat while you remain in position on your hands and knees, “3…”

The click of your new collar causes your body to tremble. You watch yourself move your ass back and forth… you’re immediately wiggling. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, and you have what feels like an insatiable urge for even more pleasure. You crave cumming. You would do anything you’re told. You will do anything you’re told.

You desperately want to do anything you’re told. It just feels so good… you need to obey.

You’re on your hands and knees, your own pussy juices now covering your thighs, and you’re shaking your ass. Your tongue has slipped out of your mouth, and you’re looking up at Q as the leash is clipped onto the collar.

Q pulls you forward. You see and feel yourself crawling across the floor. Slowly… one hand forward, then one knee… then the other hand forward, followed by your other knee. You’re being led across the circle… straight towards Livvie.

Drool drips from your tongue as Livvie’s pussy inches closer to your face, and your own pussy pounds with excitement. Q crouches down next to you, still holding onto the leash, and grabs your chin to turn your head back and forth. At one moment you’re looking at Livvie’s drenched pussy, the next you’re lost deep in Q’s eyes.

Around you all the girls are still catching their breath after the amount of edging they’ve been mindlessly doing, you can see all of their pussies convulsing. Each one of them desperate to cum…

“After 3 you will lick… and kiss… and suck… and tongue-fuck Livvie’s pussy. You will make love to her soaked hole. It will be the best thing you have ever tasted. You will make her cum. And Livvie, you will cum on her face.

1…

2…

3…”

It’s 7:35pm

Livvie is not only moaning, she’s screaming. You watch yourself, still naked on your hands and knees, with your mouth all over her pussy. You’ve come to find out that Livvie is a squirter, and she’s let out several waves of mess in your mouth, down your chin, and all over your tits. You haven’t stopped, it feels too good to stop, not like you have control of it anyways.

Q has been going around the circle whispering into each of the girls ears. You can see that they’re all watching you and Livvie, and clearly they’ve been allowed to play by using their fingers. The dark haired girls have been told to finger each other, and you watch from the corner of your eye as their fingers go in and out of each other. Creamy wetness leaking from each of their holes, quite literally dripping onto the floor.

The red haired girl has slid down off her chair, as per whatever instruction she was given, and is now laying on her back on the floor using her own fingers to get herself off as well. Everyone is moaning, yourself included, as you continue to make love to Livvie’s pussy and take face fulls of her squirt, but no one is louder than Livvie.

Q suddenly announces to the group that everyone is to get into the same position as you on the floor. You all stop what you’re doing and take position. You’re all shaking.

Everyone is directed to crawl, as you had just done towards Livvie. You’re each told to find the pussy of a specific girl, and to “stick your tongue as deep as you can into it… 1…2…3!…” You find yourselves stupidly crawling, desperate to find the pussy selected for you next.

You watch yourself find the the red haired girl’s ass, which you immediately bury your face into. You stick your tongue into her pussy, you feel humiliated, dirty and it turns you on so much.

You’ve all managed to create a sort of circle in the center of the chairs, and now that you’re all in position, you stay as still as you can with your tongues as deep in each others pussies.

“Now, tongue-fuck. 1… 2… 3!…” is the immediate next instruction, and you all begin bobbing your heads back and forth. The red haired girl tastes just as good as Livvie you can’t help but sense, and you salivate more while tongue fucking her.

Q stands near the circle, with the clicking device now in hand again, and begins pressing it. Over… and over… and over… and over…

‘Click’

‘Click’

‘Click’

‘Click’

‘Click’

Q loudly demands, “Cum!, girls, CUM! 1.. 2.. 3!…” and continues to click the device repeatedly. You watch yourselves relentlessly tonguing each other while you all moan uncontrollably, yet again.

The red haired girl’s pussy is so tight, you can actually feel as her pussy squeezes and she cums on your tongue. You feel your own pussy squeezing and climaxing, as you have a multiple orgasms thanks to Livvie’s tongue. In fact, you’re all cumming on each others tongues… it feels like it’s too much for your body to handle, yet none of you are stopping. None of you are able to stop.

It’s 7:40pm

(to be continued…)

[tkwrites]

The Hughes's Take Hawaii: Maui Edition

Photo from Instagram

Title: The Hughes’s Take Hawaii: Maui Edition

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x  Sarah Roberts / Hughes family being family 

Warnings: there’s quite a lot of pining in this, and Quinn is more than a little mopey, especially in the beginning. There's one very mild family fight and lots of brotherly chirping. Other than that, it's mostly fluff with some angst.

Summary: Quinn and his family are on Maui for their first week in Hawaii. Without the knowledge that Jack and Sarah have teamed up to surprise him, Quinn is missing her and wishing she were with them. After all, summer is a long time to be without the love of your life. The family goes snorkeling, Quinn proves just how down bad he is for Sarah, and he asks his dad a very important question, which leads to a full Hughes family discussion. All the while, Sarah and Jack are trying their best not to spoil the surprise.

Word count: 7,000

Comments: I know this snapshot has been a long time coming. The rest of the story - when Sarah and Kylee come in to surprise their guys, will be coming next (posting date tbd). I have a love hate relationship with parts of this. Quinn is so, so piney, but also I can’t see him being any other way. In any case, I think it’s still enjoyable to read. I also really enjoyed writing more about the brothers' relationships with each other. 

Anonymous asked: Will we get to see the family in Hawaii before Sarah comes? Like I could imagine Quinn just talking about her a lot not realizing she is coming. Also I feel like it would be a good time for him to ask about using his grandmas ring.  Anonymous asked: I just read your snapshot where Quinn talks about asking his dad for his grandmas ring for Sarah. I hope we get to see that and he asks in front of his brothers and Ellen as well. It would be so sweet.  Anonymous asked: I was thinking about him asking his dad for the ring in front of his brothers and Ellen.  Anonymous asked: Does Quinn get mad at Jack because Sarah isn't coming on the trip? We know she's coming as is Luke's gf, but he doesn't know that. Does he blame Jack for that, or does he just embrace the brother and family time instead. aloragrace asked: When do you envision Jim and Ellen finding out about Sarah and Kylee joining them on the trip? Are they surprised, too? Did Ellen try to get Jack to change his mind only to be told the plan? Or one of the girls accidentally tell them? Many possibilities 🤔

The Hughes's Take Hawaii: Maui Edition

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Upon landing in Maui, the Hughes’ picked up their car and got dinner before going to their vacation rental. It was a beautiful, modern house full of natural light and wooden furniture. It was the rich kind of beachy - all floor to ceiling windows, skylights, and open spaces with tiled floors so the sand would be easy to sweep out. There were stainless appliances and countertops made from the cross-section of a tree - raw edges and all. It looked impressive and expensive and also homey. The furniture was plush and comfortable, as were the beds. This was what a vacation to Hawaii was supposed to be.   

On the drive from the airport, they’d decided they should take that first day to adjust to the time change, go to the store, and relax before starting their explorations in the morning. 

After helping to unload all the groceries and luggage, Quinn pulled up his world clock to check the time in Vancouver. 8 here meant it was 10 there. Sarah would be getting ready for bed. 

“Hey,” she greeted two rings in, “you made it?” 

“Yeah,” he said, settling into one of the chairs on the patio, which overlooked some cliffs towering over the ocean. The sun was dipping into the horizon behind them, turning the sky orange and pink and blue. It was so beautiful here, it was almost surreal. How could anything possibly be this beautiful? 

“How was the flight?” 

“Fine,” he said, tracing the metal filigree of the chair. 

“Did you not sleep?” 

“Hu?” 

“You seem really tired or something,” Sarah said, sitting on her bed. He was usually a little more talkative when they got on the phone. 

“I just…” he knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way. He was in paradise, and he was with his family. Millions of people would trade him for this position any day. “I wish you were here.” 

Wincing, she stood to pull pajamas from her dresser. “I know, Quinn, but you’re going to have a great time with your family.” 

“I know,” he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I just don’t get to see you very much this summer, and I miss you. I’m still kind of pissed that Jack wouldn’t let you come.” 

Biting her lip to keep from saying something stupid, she responded to the only thing she trusted herself to. “I miss you too.”

“You even know Hawaii,” he continued after his deep sigh rushed over the connection. 

“I gave your mom a list of things to do,” she reminded. 

Even though she had given Ellen a list, she’d done most of the planning with Jack. He’d messaged her as soon as her flights were confirmed, asking what she liked to do, and if there was anything she hadn’t been able to do while she was here.  

He booked a helicopter tour she'd always wanted to take, but never had the funding to, as well as a kayaking and hiking trip she’d been on several times, and recommended to everyone who asked her what to do in K’auai. 

“It’s not the same,” he said, knowing he sounded like a child. 

“It’s not,” she agreed, “but you’re still going to have a great time. You get undivided time with your brothers, which I know you've been looking forward to.”  

Although part of him wanted to argue the point more, Quinn let the subject drop. It was done and couldn’t be changed. Even he was growing tired of hearing himself talk about it. When he was able to see past the yawning chasm of missing her, he was looking forward to the time with his brothers.

She seemed to sense the change in his mood and asked, “what does the house look like?” 

He switched the call to FaceTime to show her the view and then took her on a tour. Everyone waved from the living room, where they’d started playing chess, when he walked through. 

By the time he made it back to the porch, she was yawning. 

“I’ll let you go,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding her free hand over her mouth. 

“No, don’t be. You’ve got work tomorrow. Call me when you’re off?” he asked.

“I will. Love you, Quinny. Have so much fun at the crater tomorrow.” Of all the activities they were doing this first week, this was the only one she was really sad to miss. She'd never been to the Molokini Crater, but the snorkeling was supposed to be unreal, legendary even. 

“I’ll take pictures,” he said. 

“I can’t wait to see.”

“Love you. Sleep well.”

“I will. Love you, Q.” 

As soon as they hung up the call, Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, slumping against the bathroom wall. It had been terrible to keep this secret from him, but now that they were so close to the surprise, it was becoming almost impossible. She couldn’t tell Quinn half of what she was really doing, and it was getting harder and harder to redirect his attention. Now, on top of all that, he was so genuinely sad she wasn’t there, it made her ache. She wanted nothing more than to tell him to just hold on for a few more days. Just a few more days, and she’d be by his side again. The surprise would be incredible, but the build up to it was becoming damn near unbearable. 

The next day started early - much earlier than Quinn was used to in the summer. Thankfully, the time difference made the 6am wakeup call feel a little less extreme. 6am Hawaii time was 11am back home. If he and his brothers hadn’t stayed up half the night talking and laughing, he would have been extremely rested. 

They had to drive to the west side of the island to catch the boat that would take them on the tour of the crater. His mom had done a ton of research and, Quinn was sure, talked to Sarah, and learned that snorkeling was best in the early morning or late evening. Always the early riser, Ellen had booked them a boat at 7. 

The Hughes boys spent most of the 45-minute drive slumped on each others shoulders, trying to catch some extra sleep. Poor Luke, stuck in the middle, got the brunt of it. 

The crater, however, was well worth the early drive and the long boat ride. Seeing the half moon of rock rising out of the waves while the morning light glinted pink off of the water as they approached on the yacht, made for an incredible sight.  

Once in the water, they saw fish and sea turtles and so much beautiful coral. It was a feast of color and texture. 

After diving for a while, Quinn let himself float, taking in the surroundings. More tour boats had arrived while he was under the surface, bringing more people and making the water more choppy.

He couldn't help but feel of two minds. It was incredible to be there and to be there with his family, but he found himself wanting to share everything with Sarah and to hear what she had to say about everything they were seeing. She knew so much about the ocean, and he had so many things he wanted to ask her about.

The peaceful scene was shattered when water flooded into his face as someone suddenly surfaced next to him. 

Spluttering and blinking salt water out of his eyes, Quinn laughed as Jack pulled his snorkel out of his mouth and gestured wildly, which only caused him to sink and splash more water around. 

“There’s some giant…” Jack paused, gasping for breath through his excitement. “Some giant thing over there,” he exclaimed, pointing at the east end. 

Quinn glanced over. 

“You can’t see it from here. Come on!” 

He hesitated for a moment, looking from Jack to the tip of the crater he was gesturing toward, wondering if this was some kind of prank. There was a crowd of people gathered, all looking the same direction, though, so there had to be something there. 

“Dude,” Jack said, an earnest, eager look on his face, “come on.” 

So Quinn followed. They made their way to the front of the crowd, and when Quinn dipped below the surface, a huge fish came into view. It was spotted and gliding through the water with lazy swishes of its tail. Compared with the beast, the people in front of it looked tiny, as if it could swallow them whole. 

“See?” Jack demanded, when they came back up for air. Pushing his shoulder, he sent more water over Quinn

“What is that?”

“How would I know? Some kind of whale?”

Quinn looked around, spotting his parents a ways off. 

After waving and yelling at Luke to join them, they all met in an open spot of water just off from the crowd. 

“Did you see the leopard shark?” their dad asked. 

“Is that what that is?”

Jim shrugged. “I don't know. That’s what someone by us called it.” 

“Kinda big for a shark, isn't it?” Luke asked. 

Jim shrugged, “Sarah could tell us.”

“Well, she’s not here,” Quinn pointed out, not quite able to bite back the accusing tone in his voice. 

“Can't you send her a picture?” Jack asked to stop himself from apologizing. He had every right to request their vacation to be just their family. Not to mention that Sarah would be joining them in less than 6 days. He didn’t need to feel guilty for anything, and especially didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 

“Oh. Yeah,” he supposed he could once they were back in the boat. “Give me the GoPro,” he gestured to Luke, making a grabbing motion. 

Luke passed him the camera, and Quinn dove back under the water.

Each time they surfaced after that, even if Quinn was still under water, at least one of them would wonder what Sarah could tell them about what they'd just seen.

All in all, they were in the water until 1pm, by which time Quinn was so hungry, he felt like his stomach might just eat its way right out of his body. He'd never been so glad for his moms experience as a hockey mom when she pulled protein bars, trail mix and even Gatorade from that giant beach bag of hers on the boat ride back to the island.

It was at least enough to get back to the car and find a place for a small lunch before going to the luau that night.

“Luke, are you ready?” Ellen called down the hall. She told everyone to be ready at 5:30 so they could leave by six, but Luke was taking his time. She wondered if he was on the phone with Kylee. 

“Yeah!” he called back, “just putting on my shoes.” 

In a list of things to do, going to a Luau wasn’t on the top of his, but his mom wanted to go, and, as his dad pointed out, she put up with enough stuff she didn’t like, they could spend at least one night doing something she really wanted. 

When they finally pulled out at 6:05 and Ellen put their destination in her GPS, she realized their timing was a little off. She’d been certain the center was twenty minutes away. They must have been further from their house when she looked it up earlier. Now, they were only ten minutes away and would arrive more than thirty minutes early. At least they wouldn’t miss anything. 

“Why did we have to leave so early?” Jack asked as they pulled in and paid for priority parking. 

“I thought it was further away,” she said. 

The boys looked at each other, wondering if she’d told them to be ready so early so that they would be there on time. It was a bad day to be punctual. 

A woman in a grass skirt and coconut bra welcomed them in without question, giving them each a lei, and leading them to their seats. The crazy thing was they weren’t the only one’s there. At least five other groups were already seated at the long counters overlooking the stage. 

Sarah called as they were waiting for the show to start. 

As soon as he’d picked up, Luke snatched the phone from Quinn’s hand. “Did you see the leopard shark?” he demanded.

“The whale shark, you mean?” she asked. 

“Is that what it was?”

“Who said it was a leopard shark?” she asked, giggling.

“Some woman near us,” Jim said, reaching across Quinn to take the phone. “So, it was a whale shark? Everyone seemed really scared of it.”

“That's too bad.”

“Why?” Ellen asked, popping into the frame. 

Quinn huffed. She’d called him, and now she was talking to everyone but him. 

“I mean, you shouldn't just swim right up to a wild animal, but whale sharks only eat plankton, so they're usually pretty docile,” Sarah explained. “There was one that used to swim by our conservation cove a lot that we nicknamed Ferdinand. He was always really sweet. We'd pet him and stuff, and he never minded.”

Before Quinn could break in, Jack was reaching across his mom to take the phone, “you're telling me I could have pet a whale?”

“A whale shark,” she corrected.”They're not really whales. They have different fins and different skeletal systems.”

“Whatever,” he said with an impatient wave of his hand. “I could have touched it?”

“Maybe? Was someone telling people to back off?”

“I don't know, we didn't get any closer than that.”

“You might have then?” How was she supposed to know when she hadn't been there? 

“This is bullshit,” Jack said, “I told you we should have gone closer,” he said, shooting a sarcastic look at his mom.

“I didn't know what it was,” she said, instantly defensive. “It was a big thing in the ocean. Big things in the ocean eat people.”

Sarah giggled, and unable to stand it any longer, Quinn interrupted, “can I talk to my girlfriend, please?” His demand came out strained and too loud as he practically lay across his dads portion of the table, reaching for the phone. 

Several people sitting in front of them glanced over their shoulders at his sudden outburst.

“Sorry Quinny,” Jack said, handing it back as he fought to bite back his laughter. He'd known Quinn was anxious to talk to Sarah. It was one of the reasons he'd been so quick to steal the phone from his dad before Quinn could break in. He wanted to see just how long he could stand it. 

Jim chuckled as he passed the phone to Quinn, knowing that this outburst would go down in Hughes family history. An instant classic, bound to be brought up at parties and dinners anytime someone asked about Quinn and Sarah. We knew he was whipped when…

Sarah was giggling when Quinn’s face appeared on her phone screen. She was anxious to talk to him, too, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t love the fact that she could hold a conversation with every one of his family members now. It was a relief, really.

“Hi,” he said, feeling heat rise into his cheeks as the reality of what he’d just done settled on him. He was almost always desperate to talk to her, but he could usually hide it better.

“Hi,” she said, a ghost of a laugh still on her face. 

Now that he got a good look at her, he saw she was sitting at her desk, wrapping her hair around some kind of contraption he knew was for heatless curls. He’d seen her do it once before: after they got back from their escapades in his parents' car in New Hampshire.

“How was your day?” he asked, trying not to feel awkward about talking to her not only with his family as an audience but a growing number of strangers in the amphitheater as well. 

“It was good. I finally got Walter to respond the way I thought he would with the dopamine. I figured out I was using too much. How was yours? Did you enjoy the crater?” 

“Yeah, it was so beautiful. I wish you could have seen it.” 

Even knowing he was likely going to say something like this didn’t stop Sarah’s heart from catching in her throat. She wished she could have seen it, too. It’d been on her bucket list the entire time she’d lived in Hawaii, but she’d never made it there. “We’ll go back someday,” she said smoothly, glad that she’d rehearsed something to say. 

Her response soothed something in him. Yes, she wasn’t here, but they could always come back another summer or during a break in the season. They’d have to come back eventually to get her tattoo at any rate.

“Oh, damn,” she said as the scrunchie she’d been getting ready to wrap around the end of her curler flicked off her fingers, sailing into the closet. 

When she got up to retrieve it, he got a clear view of her room. His eyes were immediately drawn to the riot of color covering her bed. Her space was usually very tidy, but today, she had a bunch of what looked like swimsuits spread out over her patchwork quilt.

“Are you going somewhere?” 

Sarah stopped, mentally cursing herself for letting the hair tie get away from her. If it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see the piles of clothing she was going through so she could more easily decide what to pack. 

Deciding to feign ignorance, she asked, “hu?”

“You have swimming suits all over your bed?” 

Jack glanced at his mom, eyes wide. He was going to be so pissed if Sarah was about to blow the surprise over a bunch of swimming suits. 

Ellen subtly shook her head, trying to tell him not to react. 

When she’d seen Jack’s opinion of Sarah shift a little more after the family reunion, she asked him if, maybe, he’d consider inviting Sarah to Hawaii. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the time with just their family, but she hated seeing Quinn so moody when he and Sarah were apart. Getting that happy side of her oldest son back in New Hampshire made her rethink Jack’s insistence on the vacation being just them. 

That’s when he’d filled her in on the plan to surprise his brothers, making her swear not to tell anyone else because, “dad can’t keep a secret for shit.” She found herself surprised and so proud that not only was he planning something so special for his brothers, he was welcoming the girls into the family in a way he hadn’t before. 

Now, she was trying to keep him from blowing their cover by reacting to Sarah’s honest mistake.

After retrieving her hair tie, Sarah sat back at her desk and tried to keep her voice level as she told him a partial truth, “Jane, Eunice and I are going to the beach tomorrow. I was just deciding what suit to wear.” She and her roommates were headed to the beach the next day, though Sarah usually didn’t pull out every swimsuit she owned for an outing like that. 

He jumped on her story immediately, "not the black one."

"Why not?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder, where it was laid out on her pillow, already in the ‘yes’ pile. "I thought you liked that one." 

"I do like that one. You look incredible in it." 

Incredible wasn't quite the best word - she could be on the cover of Sports Illustrated in that bikini.

"So I can only wear it around you?" she teased, finally getting the last of her hair secured in place. 

"Well, no," he flustered, caught in his imagined jealousy of some guy seeing her at the beach with her friends, thinking she was hot and single. 

Pressing her lips together, she tried not to laugh at his flushed cheeks. "I promise I'll wear it the next time we go to the beach together." If only he knew how soon that would be. 

It wasn’t quite the conversation he wanted to have as his family was around, but it was when they could talk, so he took what he could get. 

“Talk tomorrow morning?” she asked when he told her the show was about to start and he had to hang up.

He nodded, already planning to get out of the house so they could talk without anyone overhearing. 

“Okay, love you, Quinn.” 

“Love you, too.” 

“Bye, Sarah,” Luke said, jutting into the frame. 

“Bye everyone,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief as the screen went black. All things considered, that call could have been so much worse. At least she’d been able to redirect him away from thinking she was going somewhere. 

The lights in the amphitheater dimmed, and Jack couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to chirp his brother a little before the moment passed them by. “I didn’t know you were down THAT bad, Quinny.”

“Fuck off.” 

“Boys,” Ellen reprimanded, “we’re in public.” 

“He started it,” Quinn said, pointing at Jack. 

“I don’t care who started it. Watch your language. We’re not at the rink.”

Jack smirked, glad to have pulled the reaction out of Quinn he’d been aiming for.  

The next morning, Quinn woke before everyone else, having set an alarm expressly for that purpose. He wanted some time alone with Sarah, even if it was just to hear her voice.

The phone rang five times and went to voicemail. As he was checking the time — it was nine in Vancouver — his phone buzzed and her photo appeared on the screen. 

“Hey,” he said. The greeting came out as a breathed sigh of relief.

“Hi,” she said through a yawn.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked, guilt creeping into his stomach.

“No, not really.” He had, but she wasn’t going to make him feel bad about it. It was well past the time she should be up anyway. “What’s up?” 

“I just wanted to talk,” he said. “We didn’t really get the chance last night. Not about important stuff, at least.” 

“Important stuff?” she repeated, feeling hesitation flutter in her chest. “What important stuff?” 

“Just like, us, you know?” 

“I don’t,” she said, voice gone wary. What was he getting at here? 

“I just mean…” he sighed, deciding he should just be honest, “I just want to hear your voice. Hear about your week.” 

“That’s the important stuff?” she asked, feeling a little whiplashed. 

“It’s important to me.” 

Something in her melted. “I thought I’d pissed you off or something.” 

“No. I’m just –” he was just desperate is what he was, and the longer they were apart, the harder it was to hide it. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Quinn,” she said,

“Just want to have a conversation with you where I get to keep you to myself,” he confessed. 

“Is this your way of telling me you want to have phone sex?” she asked, her voice lilted with teasing. 

“I mean, I'm on a public street right now, which would be a little awkward, but if you want to get yourself off, I wouldn’t say no.”

She laughed, and he smiled at the sound.  

“So how was your week?” 

“Good,” she told him about the tour she’d given to a rowdy bunch of daycare kids, one of whom fell into the touch tank while trying to pet the sting ray on the other side, and the string of experiments that all failed until they hadn’t. 

It wasn’t as good as having her with him, but hearing her while he walked in such a beautiful place made her not being there more bearable than it had been. 

He told her about the snorkeling, making sure to let her know everyone in his family mentioned wanting her around so she could tell them what they were looking at. 

She smiled, thinking of the snorkeling cove she planned to take them to on K’awai. They’d get that chance, at least. 

“So what are you doing next week?” he asked. He knew they’d talk before then, but he liked to know her plans so he could mentally picture where she’d be.

“Going to Trav’s house tomorrow” she said, “and then I have to cram a bunch of stuff in on Monday since I won’t be back to work…” she trailed off, mentally cursing herself.  She’d managed to keep this secret from him for two months through two family vacations, and now she’d almost given it up twice in a span of less than twenty-four hours. 

“Why are you only working on Monday?” he asked. She hadn’t told him she had any big plans. He would have remembered. 

“I —” her mind raced. “They asked me to help out at the rehab hospital with Dr. Forrest,” she lied. They were real plans, but they wouldn’t be taking place for another few weeks. “He wants me to get more exposure to that side of things.”

“That’s awesome, Sar,” he said. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought Sarah was lying. She usually halted like that when she was lying. But why would she lie about this? She’d been wanting to break into the research unit for months. 

Sarah breathed a silent sigh of relief, glad to have dodged that bullet. 

“I wish you were coming here,” he said. 

“I know, Q,” she said, “but we’ll see each other soon.” It was the same answer she’d been giving him all summer. He just didn’t know soon would be much sooner than he expected. “And I’m glad you’re getting family time in.” 

The call continued as he made his way back to the house. They talked about nothing and everything and made plans for her trip to Michigan. 

“I can’t wait to show you the lake,” he said. “It’s so peaceful out there.” 

“It sounds really nice.” She knew Quinn loved it in Michigan and that it was more home than anywhere else for him. “I want to see campus, too.” 

He beamed. “I’ve gotta take you to Yost. It’s like…”

He was going to tell her it was like a cathedral, but she didn’t finish his sentence. He’d brought it up every time they talked about the Michigan trip. She liked the way he talked about it — with reverence and steeped in memory. It obviously meant so much to him, she couldn’t wait to see him there. 

“It’s like a cathedral,” he said dreamily.

“I can’t wait.” 

He was back at the house now. He could see Jack at the stove and his parents in the kitchen, preparing coffee. Luke must still be asleep.

Sliding into one of the metal deck chairs, he knew he needed to end the call but put it off a little while longer. Having to say goodbye was the worst part of any phone call with Sarah.

“Are you back at the house?” she asked. 

“How’d you know?” 

“It sounds different. And I can tell you’re not walking anymore.” 

Laughing a little, he marveled at her attention to detail. These little things made him feel seen, like she was really paying attention. 

“I guess I have to let you go,” she said, and he was glad she was doing the hard part this time. 

“I don’t want to,” he said, surprised to find there was no whine in his voice. It was just a statement of fact. He didn’t want to let her go.

“I know, but we’ll be together before you know it.” 

He was never doing a summer like this again. “Yeah.” 

“I love you, Quinn.”

“I love you, too, Sarah.” 

“We’ll talk soon?” 

“Yeah. Tomorrow?”

“Sounds perfect. I’m free anytime before four. I love you.” 

“Love you, too.” 

She even did the hardest part for him and hung up the phone. 

Sighing, he lay his head back against the cold metal of the seat as the hand holding his phone fell into his lap.

“Was that Sarah?” his dad asked, coming out to the porch with a mug of coffee.

“Yeah,” Quinn said, still looking up at the sky. 

“I’m sorry she couldn’t be here.” 

“Me too.” 

“You know Jack means well.”

“I know,” Quinn admitted with a sigh. “I just — I miss her, you know?” 

Jim hadn’t felt the kind of honeymoon love in a long time, but he remembered it clearly. Wanting to spend every moment he could with Ellen, and feeling like time without her was time wasted. Looking back on it now, it seemed like some kind of euphoric fever dream. He got glimpses of it every once in a while, but the settled, understanding, companionable kind of love he and Ellen shared now wasn’t something he’d be willing to give up for anything.

“You really love her, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, I do.” It felt nice to say it out loud to someone else. He knew he loved Sarah. He’d known for a long time, but to be able to voice it to someone else made it more real. 

 “I was actually wondering —” Quinn cut himself off. Was he really about to ask this question?

His dad nodded, encouraging him to go on as he took a sip from his mug. 

“If I could use grandma's ring?” he asked in a rush, forcing the words out before he lost the nerve. 

When his grandmother had died, she gifted a ring to each of her children. Jim walked out with her engagement ring, and the romantic streak in Quinn had always imagined using it as his own engagement ring when he found someone he wanted to marry.

Jim’s eyes widened in shock. He knew Quinn and Sarah were serious and likely headed toward marriage, but Quinn was usually more level-headed than this. 

“Not now!” he jumped to clarify, practically shouting. His voice grew softer as he continued to explain, “we haven’t even been dating a year. I don’t want to marry her right now, but I’ve never felt like this before, and I…I always imagined proposing with that ring.” Quinn felt a blush flood his cheeks with the admission. “I think Sarah would really like it. She’s not one to like something flashy, you know?” 

“I didn’t know you were even interested in that ring,” Jim admitted. He’d figured none of the boys would actually use it, and it would eventually go to one of their daughters-in-law if she thought it was pretty. More likely, he thought it would end up with one of his nieces. Ellen wore it occasionally on a night out, but the women his boys dated all seemed like they would like something more…well, something more. He agreed that Sarah did seem the type to want something more practical. 

“I just…” Quinn paused, trying to find the right words, “you always talked about one of us giving it to our future wife.”

Jim had no idea that sentiment had actually stuck. Plus, things were so different now that all of them had multi-million dollar salaries. Who would choose an old heirloom with a few small, bright diamonds over a giant rock like he saw most players' wives wearing?

“We’ll have to make sure it’s okay with your brothers,” he said. It felt sort of perfunctory, but he couldn’t just go giving something to one of them without talking to the other boys, too. 

He nodded.

“We could always ask now,” Jim offered, noticing Quinn playing with the fabric of his basketball shorts. It was one of his nervous tells. “I think Jack’s almost got breakfast ready.” That was something he’d never expected to say while on vacation, but the boys had all volunteered to cook breakfast as they were shopping. He knew, more than anything, it was a surefire way for each of them to get what they wanted at least once, but as a parent, he’d take what he could get. 

Quinn agreed. He wanted to have the idea settled. He’d been sitting with it enough now that he knew he wanted to marry Sarah. He wasn’t going to barge forward just yet. They needed to know each other through all four seasons and live together before he did, but as long as everything continued on the path it was on now, he wanted a ring on her finger. He wanted to make it official in every way possible.

The rest of the family was around the table when they walked back inside. 

“Took you long enough,” Jack huffed, going to the stove to bring over the eggs, bacon, and pancakes he’d made. 

“We were just talking,” Jim said casually, taking his seat across from Ellen. 

“Yeah?” she asked, spooning scrambled eggs onto her plate. 

“Quinn has a question for everyone.” 

They all turned to look at him expectantly. He should have known his dad wouldn’t let him off easy. He always wanted his sons to do the hard work.

“I…” he cleared his throat, “I was asking dad if I could use grandma's ring.” 

Before the freak out he could see building on Jack and Luke’s faces came about, he rushed to continue, “not now. I don’t want to propose now, but eventually. I’ve always wanted to use that ring.” 

Instead of a freakout, Luke’s fork clattered to his plate, exploding a small mound of scrambled egg over the table. “I want to use that ring,” he said, his voice on the cusp of a whine. He and Kylee had been dating the longest. They should have first dibs, even if Quinn was the oldest, and he and Sarah might be closer to actually getting married. 

“I’ve thought about it, too,” Jack admitted, staring down at his plate. 

Jim looked across the table to Ellen, who’s surprised expression mirrored his own. 

“I suppose,” Ellen said, “it would go to the first one of you to get married.”

“Hmm,” Jim pulled a face, “I don’t want any of them rushing into marriage just so they can have it.”

All three of his sons slumped into their seats in identical expressions of defeat. He almost laughed. Sometimes, it felt like they forgot who raised them. 

“Who gets it, then?” Quinn asked, pushing his eggs around his plate.

“Well, traditionally, it would go to the oldest, right?” Ellen asked, looking at Jim for backup. 

“That’s not fair!” Luke burst out, his youngest child whine coming out. “It shouldn’t go to Quinn just because he’s oldest. It’s not my fault,” he pointed a finger at his own chest, “I was born last!” 

A heavy silence spilled over the table.

“We could get copies made,” she suggested when Jim didn’t say anything, She wasn’t about to touch that with a ten foot pole. She’d always thought inheritance in male birthright order was stupid, but she didn’t have another solution.

Jack snorted, “yeah because that’s not weird.” As much as he wanted to, Jack knew he didn’t really have a claim in the conversation. Luke and Quinn both had serious girlfriends, and Jack hadn’t dated anyone for more than three months since he and Madison broke up. He felt so separate from his brothers in this and nearly suggested that he ought to be the one to get it since he was the only single one. They already had girlfriends. Why should they get thing ring, too? Even thinking it, he knew it didn’t make any sense. 

“What’s so weird? You all like it.”

“Because it belonged to grandma,” Luke said, “not because of what it looks like.” 

“If you can’t decide, you could all use it as your engagement ring - give it back after the wedding,” Jim offered. 

Quinn grimaced. Glancing up, he found an identical expression on Luke’s face. Jack was staring at his plate, forlorn.

“I hate that idea,” Quinn said when no one else spoke up. Then, he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth to stop himself from saying something stupid like that he’d rather Luke have the ring than make Sarah give it back after they got married. If he said that out loud, Luke would jump on it — he would too if the roles were reversed — and he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. If it came down to it, he’d give it to Luke, but he wanted his shot. 

“Well,” Ellen said, stepping into the diplomatic role once again, “since none of you are ready to get married just yet, we have some time to figure out what to do.” 

“Yeah,” all three of them said in matching tones of resignation. 

They spent that afternoon at one of the most beautiful golf courses they’d ever seen. Luke won by one stroke, and Quinn couldn’t help but think Sarah would have taken them all to task if she was there. 

The next day found them at a small beach, trying to surf. The actual surfing wasn’t a problem. They all had excellent balance and wake surfed in the lake back home, but paddling out to catch a wave was exhausting. 

After fifteen or so attempts, Quinn decided to take a break and flopped onto the beach blanket next to Jack, who was reading a crime thriller Quinn had recommended to him. 

“Wha’d’ya think?” 

“It’s good so far. This Audrey woman is nuts.” 

Quinn laughed, remembering, “yeah, she gets worse.”

Jack didn’t think that could be possible, but it was fiction for a reason. 

When he finished the chapter, Jack shut the book and set it back in the big basket his mom had brought. She and their dad were on a walk. If he’d been following their progress correctly, they were the two little specks in front of the sandy cliff around the north side of the bay.

“I can’t believe you’re getting ready to propose to someone,” Jack said when he and Quinn had been sitting in silence for a while. 

“I don’t know that I’m getting ready, really.” 

“Whatever. Semantics,” Jack defended, waving away his rebuttal. 

Quinn laughed. “Can you call it semantics when it’s about a life altering question?” 

“I just mean like, you know, you know? I’ve never felt that way.” Truthfully, Jack always thought he would be the first one to get married. He was more outgoing than his brothers, and he’d had more girlfriends. Although he supposed this was probably one of those things that was more quality over quantity. With the rate things were going, he was likely to be the last. 

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed, leaning back on his elbows. He hadn’t expected to feel like this either. Comparing this summer to the one before was like comparing apples to oranges. Sure, they were both summers, but he felt so off kilter last year, and this year, he felt so settled, other than he wished he and Sarah weren’t living apart. 

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, “it just seems right, you know?” 

“I’m excited to spend more time with her,” Jack said. 

Quinn glanced at him, “when are you spending more time with my girlfriend?”

Oh, Fuck. Jack’s heart jumped into his throat, and he coughed, trying to clear it. “Just that…” he couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He was excited to spend time with Sarah — see how she was around just their family — but he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. They were only two days away from the surprise and he was blowing it. He consciously stopped himself from slapping his hand to his forehead. A reaction like that would undoubtedly give him away. “I mean, she’s coming to Mich, right?” 

“Yeah,” Quinn said, sighing as he lay on his back. He’d put his t-shirt back on, but the sun still licked through the fabric, making him feel warm and sleepy. “Next month.” 

Glancing over, Jack was relieved to see Quinn relaxed. Either he was an excellent actor — doubtful — or he’d managed to redirect him enough to not be suspicious. It was time to change the subject.  

“You need to throw those glasses in the ocean, man,” Jack said, reaching over to pull the gold frames from his face. Jack knew he liked them, but everyone else agreed they were awful. He thought they made Quinn look like a finance bro. 

Quinn smacked his hand away. “I like them. Sarah likes them.”

“She does?” Maybe he needed to rethink his opinions of her. She apparently had worse taste than he thought. “Has she seen them?” 

Glaring, Quinn pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could get a better look at Jack, who was sitting with one of his legs bent, an arm loosely slung around it. 

“Yes. She’s —” he broke off. “I think she’s seen them.” 

Jack scoffed, “I don’t think she has. They’d give her the ick.” 

“Fuck off. I do not give Sarah the ick, I can promise you that.” 

“You don’t, but those glasses will. Just throw them in and get it over with.” 

“First of all, that’s bad for the environment. Secondly, I like them, and third, they were expensive.” 

Jack threw his hands in the air in defeat. “One day,” he said, pointing at Quinn, “One day I will make you see reason.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Quinn snorted. 

“Are we talking about Quinn’s fuck-ass glasses?” Luke asked, walking up to the blanket dripping wet. 

“See?” Jack demanded, pointing at their youngest brother as he reached for a towel. 

By the end of the day, Quinn’s cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing and had to admit it was really nice to get this time with his family away from training and the grind of daily life, even if Sarah was still in Vancouver. Now, more than ever, he understood why Jack wanted this vacation to be just them. 

Everything would figure itself out. They’d decide who got their grandmas ring, and Sarah would come to Michigan, and then move in when he got back to Van. And the next time a family vacation came around, Quinn knew Sarah wouldn’t get left behind. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[resident-idiot-simp]

Vanessa's co-workers POV

(x)

@shy-canadian-snowflake had somewhat similar conversation about this with him so kudos for that lol

Vanessa was well known at the office for being blunt and honest to the point of hilarity. She would tell you what she thought with no care of how you felt about it. She also had some borderline insane stories she would share that she didn't seem to think much about.

One off comment too that would bring people up short because….what?!

Things like getting kidnapped and held hostage by a maniac, or being shot and almost dying because she was with the wrong person.

She talked about hanging out with mutants which some people in the office had problems with. Vanessa just asked those who scoffed if they had an issue with it and to speak up if they did. Vanessa didn't take very kindly to anyone talking bad about mutants. People suspected it was probably a personal thing and wondered who exactly in her close family was one.

That question was answered one day if she was leaving with everyone else. A man in a hood and sunglasses was lingering around the exit and a lot of people were nervous. Vanessa wasn't however as she lit up when she saw the figure.

“Wade!” She called and the huge man looked up and smiled. His face was shadowed but from what they could see it was just scar tissue. Vanessa ran to the figure and the man opened his arms for her easily.

“Hey Nessa, how was work?” The man asked his voice chipper as he placed an obnoxious kiss on the top of her head which caused Vanessa to giggle. The other workers were just staring in confusion.

“Fine, I didn't know you would be here today.” Vanessa said with her hands on her hips after she pecked him on the cheek.

The man, Wade, sighed obnoxiously, “What, I can't surprise my best friend by walking her back to her apartment after treating her to dinner?” He asked, faking as much offense as he can manage.

“Just us?” She asked as she crossed her arms.

The others watched the interaction like a tennis match.

“Everyone else is busy besides we've not had dinner together in a while. Unless of course it offends your delicate sensibilities.” Wade shot back and Vanessa just laughed.

“Fine but I have to tell Dermot.” She says and the man shrugs easily, “Of course I'd be worried if I were him. Hell you know how I was with you, still am even.” He agreed.

“Oh I know I was engaged to you for a long time.” She shot back and he just laughed.

Everyone shared wide eyed looks at that. Vanessa had mentioned having an ex fiance and this was apparently him.

“Are you going to look like a creep the whole time?” She asked him as she pulled out her phone. He just shrugged, “Don't want to scare anyone.” He said softly and Vanessa rolled her eyes, “Yes because someone as big as you wearing what you are isn't terrifying.” She sassed back.

Wade just sighed dramatically and took off the glass and hood. “Happy?” He asked, his voice tense as he looked at the others still watching. He was covered in scars but that isn't what caused the others to come up short. No what caused that was the fact that was fucking Deadpool.

Everyone looked to one another alarmed but Deadpo-Wade just ignored them as he looked back at a smiling Vanessa. “There's the man I know, come on I'll call on the way, when are we eating?” She asked as she started walking and Wade hurried to catch up cursing as he went.

The next day the office was abuzzed with questions. She answered some of them and ignored others. She had been with Wade before he was Deadpool and then after. They had split on good terms and had just grown apart romantically, but she still said they considered themselves best friends.

Her new boyfriend didn't care they were close because he trusted her and also not that it mattered but Wade had another partner now anyways. They were really close sure, but they didn't have any romantic feelings.

When asked about Wade's new partner she just shrugged and said they'd meet them eventually.

It was a few weeks later when they did in fact meet the partner. They were all leaving and there was a motorcycle idling outside. A man was leaning next to it in flannel jeans and a leather jacket. Vanessa had just smiled when she saw him, “Logan good to see you.” She called as she walked over to him.

He smiled and showed off too sharp teeth, “Hey Ness.” He greets easily as he gives her a hug and rubs his face on her. She giggles and wacks him lightly, “That shit tickles asshole.” She grouches.

He rolls his eyes at that. Vanessa graciously ignores it, “How's Wade?” She asked and the man just groaned. “Obnoxious as always but fine, he's at Sister Margaret's collecting money for a job we did.” He explained as he took off his jacket and handed it to Vanessa who put it on.

It swallowed her completely but she didn't seem to mind. Logan got onto the motorcycle and Vanessa was quick to join him wrapping her arms around his waist. They were off moments later leaving the stunned group to share shock looks.

“W-was that the Wolverine?” Someone asked in complete shock. “I think it was.” Another answered in a whisper.

Vanessa had been questioned about Logan and had admitted that yes he was Wade's new partner. She didn't explain more than that no matter how many times they asked.

It was another month before anything else interesting happened. That being a young lady who showed up. She had asked for Vanessa and it didn't take long for Vanessa to come and see what she wanted.

“Laura hey I didn't expect to see you here. Are you okay? What happened?” Vanessa asked as she approached and looked the girl over. She allows Vanessa to look her over but reassures that she's fine and nothing happened.

“Just wanted to know if I could hang here until you get done. Papá and Pop are being obnoxious and are probably going to fight and I personally don't want to see the aftermath.” She explained and Vanessa had just laughed, “I'm sure it will be fine we've only got an hour left.” Vanessa told her.

A few people shared worried looks but figured if it was really bad they wouldn't be laughing about it. Laura was a kind young lady who seemed out of her depth with her sounding and stuck close to Vanessa. Laura looked almost identical to Logan which didn't go unnoticed but people refrained from commenting about it.

Laura didn't cause any issues and even helped Vanessa with a few things before the day's end. Vanessa thanked her for the help and she smiled happily showing off familiar too sharp teeth. They left together and it was Monday before they got answers.

As they suspected Laura was Logan's daughter and thus Wade's too. Vanessa explained she was really happy for Wade because he'd always wanted a kid. Apparently he was amazing with Laura which most people were dubious at but no one said anything.

Vanessa never became less mysterious if anything it was the opposite. The more they learn the more questions they had.

Tags: @twoarrsandonesea

Added stuff and posted it to ao3

[all-pacas]

I finished nobody’s fault & chase and I couldn’t understand why chase wouldn’t forgive house. Like obviously he’s traumatised and couldn’t walk but it feels like I’m just missing sth crucial. Chase did reason it with his doubts…but I don’t know if he honestly believed them. Any thoughts?

In a lot of very interesting ways, Nobody's Fault/Chase reads to me like a pretty direct continuation of Teamwork. Of S6. Cameron leaves the show talking about how House is poison, how he ruins people and ruined Chase specifically: House is reckless, House makes people act like him, House has ruined Chase's life. And… it's unfair, but it's not entirely wrong. Chase has become a worse person over the years. He has become a lonelier and more bitter person.

Nobody's Fault makes it fairly clear that legally, the stabbing was not House's fault. Chase fucked up, Adams fucked up, everyone made mistakes. House wasn't really even involved, but at the same time, none of it would have happened if not for House. This is Cameron's "poison" speech come back around: House spends years encouraging recklessness and results and defiance, and eventually it's going to backfire and hurt someone. House never told Chase to murder Dibala, but House taught Chase to act and not care about laws or consequences.

HOUSE: She blames me for Dibala's murder, not you. CHASE: You were barely involved in that case. She knows that. HOUSE: But I created the big, bad, evil climate that allowed it to happen. (teamwork)

CAMERON: You did kill Dibala. By playing God and teaching us to do the same. HOUSE: I taught you to think for yourselves. (teamwork)

COFIELD: You brazenly defied your boss. Now that happened either because Dr. House has established that that's okay in his world, or his prank war distracted you, or House makes medicine a game, and you just wanted to beat him. Whatever the reason, it boils down to the fact that you may never walk again because House created an atmosphere that promotes recklessness. (nobody's fault)

This is actually kind of a theme. We even see shades of it in The Mistake, in House Training, in Wilson urging 13 to work for House because she alone is immune to his influence, in Masters and Cameron leaving entirely: House changes people. Not for the better.

So, does Chase truly blame House for what happened? No. At the end of the day, Chase's loyalty to House did win out, and he defends him pretty strongly to Cofield; in fact, he's also able to point out that House was, despite his appearance, wildly concerned and worried and Chase knew it (let's not forget, Chase has always been very good at reading House). He seems to blame himself (using the same "I would do it again" language as he used in Teamwork). But that doesn't mean he isn't angry at House.

Chase is very similar to Forever, Foreman's reaction to his own near death experience. Foreman almost died, and is putting on an act of being a new person to try and give meaning to the event. Chase does sort of the same thing — except he comes to the opposite conclusion. He almost died, and it seems to have made him realize how completely miserable he is. House isn't to blame for the stabbing. He kind of is for that.

That's kind of a theme with Chase in S8 in particular. He takes a year off and is bored and waiting for House. In a later episode, he wonders why he's still working for House: he's in year seven of a three year fellowship. Foreman is the Dean of Medicine; Cameron is running an ER in Chicago. Chase is exactly where he started. His entire life is working for House. And he kind of hates it. Not House, but… his life, you know? He picked House over his marriage. He picked his fellowship over his very successful surgical career. What has he gotten for it? Divorced, lonely, bitter… stabbed. He's thrown his morals away. He killed a man in cold blood. Is he happy? Probably not.

Chase is unhappy, he feels (somewhat fairly) that his life is not what he wanted, and like Foreman years earlier, he's trying to make changes. He wants out of House's orbit. He's reflecting on what he wants, and his arguments against Moira joining her convent are… pretty telling: She's missing out on getting married. Having kids. Having a successful career. He tells her later he was married once, that he wants a relationship with her. We know these things are true; only two years ago Chase was absolutely convinced he had it with Cameron. But at the same time, he's grasping at straws. He wants to escape, to start over. He blames House for how his life turned out.

CHASE: I need to get away from House and everything that reminds me of him. ADAMS: By breaking the rules, not caring what anyone else thinks. You're gonna get away from him by turning into him? (chase)

CHASE: This has nothing to do with the truth. You don't like that I'm reassessing my life, that I want to change it, that I can. HOUSE: Anyone can screw up a life. I never said that wasn't possible. CHASE: You're incapable of human connection, so you want everyone to be like you. (chase)

And the thing is, Cameron must be rolling in her grave right now, because. This is what she was saying. House ruins people, he poisons them: he has influenced Chase and not for the better. Chase now, finally, agrees. He isn't happy with his life, and he's blaming House the same way Cameron did. He's angry with House and can't forgive House, not because Chase really blames him for the stabbing, but because he's in his words reassessing, he wants to change, he sees House (correctly, mind you) as the symptom of all these changes: it's not fair to blame House — House wasn't sitting and doing this intentionally — but it's inarguable that a decade with House has done this. (And I love how Nobody's Fault underlines just that point. Chase has been here the longest. He has known House the longest.)

But House is right, too. Chase wanting to change is sincere, but it's also a reaction. He is unhappy, but jumping straight to I will live happily ever after with this random lady isn't a solution. And implicitly, Chase agrees: the fact that Chase has spent half the season with very short hair and stubble, then these episodes limping, is not an accident. Nor is the fact that at the end of Chase and going forward, Chase is clean shaven, back to his usual hairstyle, and no longer limping.

I also think their argument at the end of Chase was. Important. House telling him it's okay, even if not in those words. That he isn't an idiot, that he didn't make a mistake or do something wrong (when Chase from his language and unhappiness over the past few years doesn't seem to agree). They've long since left the days where Chase was slavishly seeking House's approval, but that doesn't mean it didn't mean something to finally get it. I think House telling him you didn't do anything wrong was what Chase really needed: not just the words, but hearing it from House, in a moment where Chase is feeling lost and wanting to change and wanting to blame House (for being miserable, for not connecting to others, for being lonely and alone like Chase fears himself)? That mattered.

And we see going forward that Chase actually does change. He becomes close to Park, he stops sleeping around, he leaves PPTH on his own terms, finally (even if it doesn't exactly stick for long). Cameron was right all along that House changed Chase for the worse… but House and Chase seem to realize that doesn't have to stay that way, and that Chase can still change and be happier going forward.

[felassan]

Some more DA:TV and related snippets from Sylvia Feketekuty, Part 4. rest of post under a cut due to length and spoilers. [Post One, Post Two, Post Three]

User: "How and when did he and her(johanna) meet? What was the story between him and her back then?" // Sylvia Feketekuty: "1. So I always imagined he and Johanna met pretty early on, in the Watchers. In their teens, maybe? (Hezenkoss was a pretty exceptional mage and Emmrich was raised by the MW, so I imagine both were fast tracked into the order.) 2. I have rough ideas, but of course since not much is in the game, not much is set in stone. One thing I did hint at obliquely I think is okay to expand on: when Hezenkoss complains about the Venatori and Emmrich says disapprovingly they remind him of Tevinter's nobility, and she agrees. In my mind, I imagine Hezenkoss came from a family not that much more socially higher than Emmrich's. So they were kids who probably bonded early on not only out of intellectual curiosity, but because they both came from working class families compared to students from the elites." [source, two, three]

Nick Boraine: "Hey Sylvia. thanks for writing such a beautiful character. I loved saying your words. Hope to again one day." [source] // Sylvia: "Nick! Hello! I hope you've been soaking in people's reactions to your wonderful performance. People have fallen in love with it! "Hope to again one day." If the stars align, I'd love that! Also: hope you saw that Emmrich picked up the Silver for "best new character" on the Playstation blog fan vote!" [source, two, three] // Nick: "I have indeed - it’s been incredible. So grateful. Hoping VG companies will all come on board soon and we can end the strike. I’d love to interact more with all the fans." [source] // Sylvia: "I'm glad to hear you've been getting to see some of the fan reactions! "Hoping VG companies will all come on board soon and we can end the strike." Amen to that. Best of luck to everyone holding the line, you all deserve what you're asking for and more." [source]

User: "I had been looking forward to learning more about the Mourn Watch since reading “Down Among the Dead Men” (which made me cry!), and it has been such a delight to explore that part of DAV" // Sylvia: "I'm especially touched to hear that about DatDM. It was a privilege to be the first writer who got to really open up the tombs in that story." [source]

User: "I'd be interested to know if you know any fun facts or something about the nevarran language featured in the game" // Sylvia: "Ah, tomb-script. I named it but it was our concept artists who went developed it with the hexagon shape-language of the Mourn Watch, which I loved. Conceptually: I think it's used purely an occult or sacred language. Something for the graves, or books on magic, but not everyday things." [source] // User: "The artists did an amazing job—it’s such a unique and visually striking evolution of Elvhen script, and it really highlights the distinct Nevarran aesthetic beautifully. It would be great to hear more about it if there's anything you're able to share from the concept/lore side of its development!" // Sylvia: "I don't know if I have too much more, but I did love how our artists made it follow the hexagonal shape-language of the Mourn Watch in general. (It's everywhere in their architecture and props.)" [source]

User: "1. What was Emmrich like as a student? Did he struggle with a particular topic in classes? Hezenkoss says some about him dragging her to parties so I was wondering if he was wilder in his youth" // Sylvia: "1. I think he was a diligent but very social student, very outgoing and fairly popular. I can't think of what lessons he might be bad at, not because he was good at all of them, but because that would mean getting into extreme detail about the MWers academia. e.g. I think it's fair to say visualizing and compartmentalizing thoughts and memetic rituals is part of casting magic, but but what do those classes LOOK like? How many are broken into sub-specialties? Etc. That said, even though I'm not sure how much it'd come up, Emmrich is absolutely terrible with anything mechanical. (Touched on that in some banter between him and Bellara.) 3. I'd say someone achieving the rank of Watcher is probably discussed by senior staff members, and is tailored to each mage. More about competence, temperament, and control, rather than passing a set test. (Which could include a thesis or a practical demonstration, but not as an end-goal per se.)" [source, two, three, four, five]

User: "could Emmrich be considered a spirit healer, or rather whatever it is that makes a spirit healer have that extra affinity for spirits? (I always felt like the healer bit was encouraged out of fear) Is corpse whispering a subset of that or a different thing entirely?" // Sylvia: "I definitely feel Nevarran necromancy is in the same realm in general, yet that Emmrich's corpse whispering isn't drawing on spirits to function, it's his own personal will. If that makes sense." [source] // User: "I think I understand! Like he can comprehend the spirits a little more clearly than most so they're inclined to want to interact with him but the corpse whispering itself is his own request/demand, the spirit/corpse/whatever a soul is is responding rather than assisting with the magic itself?" // Sylvia: "Yes! I think that's a good description of it." [source]

User: "I have to ask, did you write the Josephine letter to the inquisitor codex?" // Sylvia: "that was indeed me! I liked revisiting those two, even a little bit, in that letter." [source]

User: "since he's interested in botany, do you think he'd enjoy opening up a flower shop with a romanced Rook?" // Sylvia: "I don't think he's a man interested in the headaches of running a business, but if Rook REALLY wanted to go for it, Emmrich would probably help grow the plants." [source]

User: "my question is did any of nick’s performance inform how you wrote emmrich, because some of the scenes of his i had to stop the game and just take in the perfect unity of actor and writer voice to conceive such a realized character. and were you always interested in claiming emm to write?" // Sylvia: "1. Yes, absolutely. Nick got who Emmrich was, right away, and that informed future writing once I knew what Emmrich actually sounded like, how Nick embodied those emotions. 2. I pitched Emmrich, so: yes, absolutely! I'd always thought the Grand Necropolis and its inhabitants sounded like a very cool corner of Thedas, and I'm partial to necromancers in general, so "necromancer" was the first thing I thought of when it came time to pitch new followers." [source, two]

User: "do you think Emmrich would ever end up referring to Manfred directly as his son?" // Sylvia: "So I had Emmrich call Manfred his ward, not his son, because I thought that was one step too far for him right away. But I don't think anything is impossible in the future." [source, two]

Sylvia: "It was my pleasure to to work with the team to finally show off the crypts of the Necropolis." [source]

User: "Can you please tell us what type of tea Emmrich drinks for breakfast? He strikes me as an Earl Grey person but then again English Breakfast also makes sense somehow" // Sylvia: "I'm actually not a big tea person, so I almost feel I should let this be whatever your head canon is. (That said I do think Earl Grey has the better scent. But do Emmrich's refined tastes match my own? I dump a lot of sugar and cream into mine after all lol.)" [source]

User: "Emmrich as Vincent Price: all in my head or intentional? And if the latter, who do I have to thank?" // Sylvia: "Love Mr. Price, a legend, but it was actually Peter Cushing who was one of my first touchstones before we had any art for Emmrich in." [source]

User: "1. When Em&Rook had their fight - what were his intentions? Did he try to break up with Rook? 2. Just hypothetically, if my Rook bends her knee and asks him to be hers forever, what would his reaction be? 3. Johannas hand, it's planning mischief, is it not?" // Sylvia: "2. Emmrich would be over the moon. He would absolutely love to get married. 3. "Johannas hand, it's planning mischief, is it not?" Who could possibly say? (yes)" [source, two]

User: "Could you tell us how Mourn Watchers life is arranged? Do they live in Nevarra or right in Necropolis? Are their rooms similar to that coffin room?" // Sylvia: "The Watchers live in the upper, safer levels of the Necropolis. I imagine this is where they sleep, eat, teach/train, and also where they prepare bodies for interment. "Are their rooms similar to that coffin room?" I don't want to say either way, just because we never actually go there, and I prefer to keep things open until something is actually in the game or in a story or comic or etc." [source, two]

User: "He has also been an extremely positive driving force and has caused me to pick back up my plan to go back to university and become a lecturer. It's a dream I shelved because of little self esteem but I know he would be sad if I didn't at least try, sad Emmrich is a powerful motivator!" // Sylvia: "He would indeed be sad, especially if this is a passion of yours, but glad to hear you're picking it up again. Sincerely, best of luck." [source]

User: "Can you talk about your writing process? I'd love to hear a bit about what influenced/shaped not only Emmrich but the Mourn Watch and Necropolis. I actually find comfort in death and I just adore what you crafted for the game. I'd love to join the Watchers myself." // Sylvia: ""Also, are you able to talk about what you envisioned every day life for Watcher's to be like? Or maybe some cultural tidbits you'd imagined while writing? I like to think they'd have some incredible festivals and create really interesting folk art!" Oh that is fun. I'll be honest though I'll be a little reticent, just because I tend not to talk about too much until it's in a game. I do think a lot of their everyday life is what Emmrich describes to Rook: Preparing bodies, helping grieving people visit their loved ones, maintaining the graves, and the undead that help maintain the graves. And of course hunting down malign manifestations. The MW and their carefully-courted spirit allies are good at preventing demonic incursion. But as we've seen, it's not impossible. And there's a desire to figure out the weirder stuff that not even the Watchers really fully know. (X-files theme). "I like to think they'd have some incredible festivals and create really interesting folk art" Me too! They involve the dead in their lives so much, I think that includes going down to the graveyard to celebrate milestones, versus visiting on a calendar date. One of my favorite things to write was the folk tale about how spirits were first drawn to Nevarra in particular. I really wanted to make it feel like one of those founding myths filtered through storytelling embellishment in the winter nights. [link] "I'd love to join the Watchers myself." The Necropolis is always looking for more company" [source, two, three, four, five, six]

User: "I just wanted to add that Hezenkoss is absolutely my favourite noncompanion character!" // Sylvia: "Thank you so much for this, because Hezenkoss was a great joy to write. I risked going all out with her, and I don't know if that lands for everyone, but I wanted to have a proper mad scientist who was also Emmrich's best friend because personal seemed better for him." [source]

User: "I heard a rumor that you wrote a lot of the codex. Did you write these? If not, do you know who did? I found them hilarious. [link]" // Sylvia: "Oh, that's not true at ALL. The writers all wrote about an equal amount of codex entries. (One of our editors and I did some work on the proposed structure and organization, but I'm in no way the main writer of the content.) The letter is very funny though. If it's LoF I'd assume there's a good chance this might be by Trick Weekes" [source, two] // Trick Weekes: "Honestly, while I gave that one a quick writing pass, it was largely Malcolm doing the first pass and busting out that Aethelred the Unready reference. (Which I loved and kept.)" [source]

User: "congrats on Emmrich winning second place for the best new character award" // Sylvia: "Thanks very much! I was thrilled to see him there, especially because it's a fan vote." [source]

User: "i would absolutely love to know a bit more about his relationship / time with Dorian as his student in the necropolis ! (Is it possible Dorian got inspired by him for his mustache ?" // Sylvia: "1. I'm afraid my response is pretty dull, because there's not much in game (and I'm not Dorian's writer) so I'm reluctant to add anything off the cuff. Sorry! 2. Aw that'd be cute. I think that's just artistic coincidence though, so it also has to remain in the murky mists of uncertainty. (But because it lives in that space, it's also not impossible. I'd say head canon it how you like!)" [source, two]

User: "i was also wondering if you worked on any other side characters beside Hezenkoss ?" // Sylvia: "I did! The Mourn Watchers were me. And through a complicated chain of events, I wrote one single merchant in Treviso - the gallery owner, Mistress Trella." [source]

User: "I have a very important question and I’m sorry if it’s been asked elsewhere: what’s his favorite kind of tea?" [re: Emmrich] // Sylvia: "I talked about it a little in this thread [compiled above], where I confess I'm not much of a tea person myself. So I'm happy to let tea-fans imagine anything they like." [source]

Sylvia: "So much of the romance rests on our animators and audio team and Nick Borraine stepping up to deliver everything perfectly" [source]

User: "Less of a question and more just appreciation. I love him so much, the casual plant lore, just everything." // Sylvia: "Aw thank you! I'm especially glad you enjoyed the plant lore, it really gave me an opportunity to have Emmrich enthuse about the Memorial Gardens, one of my favorite spaces in the game." [source]

User: "Also, if you don’t mind aside from liking pineapple and hazelnut torte. Does Emmrich have any other favored foods? Or favored flavours like spicy/salty/ect?" // Sylvia: "I actually went over that here a little, which isn't much detail. He DOES bring back dates for the group at one point. For whatever reason, I never pictured him with a huge sweet tooth, but the occasional pineapple or date is a nice treat." [source]

Sylvia, re: Emmrich: ""And I’m immensely jealous of how stylish he is" Same. He absolutely has a tailor or two who knows their stuff." [source]

Sylvia: ""did Emmerich studied only in Grand Necropolis or he was in Circle of Magi? Or mages in Grand Necropolis doesn't must to learn in Circles?" I talk about that a bit here: I think he trained in the Necropolis, but taught both there and Cumberland's Circle. Admittedly, I never defined the Mourn Watch's Circle status in game. It could be a sanctioned fraternity that takes in promising mages and trains them for the Necropolis, but isn't technically a Circle itself, even if it oversees harrowings. (There's a bit of banter from a Necropolis NPC on that.) This would explain why there's non-mages around with full MW membership, like how your Rook can be a MW warrior or rogue. So I'm inclined to think this is the case. (But until it's ever in a DA game or piece of media, I wouldn't consider that 100% canon. It's just my own thoughts.) "I'm not sure if I it was in game, but how Strife take it if Emmrich became a lich? Is he alright with that and they continue relationships or he just drop it?" We didn't tackle that in that game, I'm afraid, so there's no actual answer there. Sorry! Apologies if that non-answer is frustrating. But that's the kind of topic I wouldn't want to answer unless a future game had a reason to go into it. "How long Vorgoth have been around in Grand Necropolis? There's theories about their persona and I know that you can't give straight answer but could they be a lich?" I'm afraid Vorgoth must remain mysterious, but nothing is impossible with them... "me and my friend have headcanon that there should be something like hospice in Grand Necropolis. You know some place where palliative care is given to those who needs it. Could it be true or it's not in Grand Necropolis nature?" I hadn't planned it, but that's a fun head canon if you like it!" [source, two, three, four, five, six, seven]

User: "I have a question and that’s if you listened to anything in particular when writing Emmrich? Or any of your characters" // Sylvia: "I did! I have my playlist on my old computer and if I dig it out, I will post it here. It's mostly ambient stuff, I prefer music without words when writing. A lot of stuff from Cryochamber, but I listen to it a lot in general. [link]" [source, two]

User: "1. Were Johanna’s morals *always* questionable, or did they steadily decline? It sounded like she’d been given a lot of passes by the Mourn Watch, brilliant mind or no! 2. Anything you can tell us re: the War of the Banners? Like, how it began, or which spirits/noble lines were involved?" // Sylvia: "1. I think Hezenkoss always had what Emmrich might call a "cavalier attitude" towards rules and limits, but that it got worse over the years. Being exiled probably did not help, but she probably crossed a line at that point already. 2. The War of the Banners part of the backstory actually came from another writer, and I loved it. But I don't think I want to colour in the lines because there's so much room for imagination. (And since I'm not at BW anymore, it would be even more my own head canon than most other things.)" [source, two]

User: "It's so interesting when he is a lich, it's rare that we see conflict in a game romance like that. Also, his "coming out" scene to the whole group was unexpectedly funny and had me rolling xD" // Sylvia: "The "everyone: I'm a lich" scene was one where I was really trying to balance the seriousness of the previous scene with something a bit more lighthearted but still heartfelt. So I'm very glad you dug it!" [source]

User: "I wonder how Emmrich studied the Fade? cmiim he explored the Fade right? Was it through dream? I'm so intrigued by that." // Sylvia: "Your question is a good one. He has definitely explored it via dreaming/trances, but I think a Watcher would first train for that, learn how to set up wards, and to start with, do it under supervision. Given Emmrich's affinity for spirits, I'm sure he cultivated trustworthy spirit friends in the Fade who could guide and aid him as well. (The way we see him reach out during House of the Dead to spirits from a previous quest)" [source, two]

User: "Is Emmrich Andrastian?" // Sylvia: "I have some thoughts on this one. Nominally, yes he us. But I think a lifetime of studying other death practices and religions has shown Emmrich so many points of commonality in the search for transcendence and the divine, that he believes all religions may explore something of a universal truth. So the Thedas equivalent of Universal Unitarianism, basically. And maybe he corresponds/debates with some like-minded scholars out there. Though quietly. I think he'd err on the side of "Let's not trouble the Chantry with this." for safety's sake. (I didn't want to make him an agnostic free-thinker, that seems too conveniently lined up with modern conventions. But I think seeking truth through argument and philosophical exploration fits him.)" [source, two, three]

Sylvia, in response to a user saying this phrase: "BTW I got a kick out of "nevarran cryptid". Who knows what haunts the lower halls?" [source]

User: "Can a MW Rook have an opportunity to achive Lichdom in the future?Or maybe only a mage Watcher could?" // Sylvia: "So Emmrich managed it, and so did Hezenkoss after she pieced it together from what he told her. So we DO know it's not impossible for any mage to try it. Whether a non-mage could is a very good question. The abilities of the liches are very ill-defined at the moment, so possibly Emmrich meant that promise very literally... But! I'm also not at BW anymore, and at this point this is just my own thoughts, which are very non-binding. (Sorry, that's a lot of words to say "Could be cool, but currently nothing set in stone.")" [source, two, three]

User: "What is Emmrich's preferred tea and how does he have it? Different types for different times of the day?" // Sylvia: "Different types for different times of the day?" I think so, that fits in with his sense of the rhythm of a day. But I'm no tea drinker myself, so I'm happy to let fans imagine what works for them." [source]

User: "Do you have any thoughts about emmrich & marriage proposals, would he prefer to be the one proposing? Or would he be equally excited to be proposed to? Ostentatious, public, private proposal?" // Sylvia: "Re: a proposal, gee. I think he'd be equally excited either way, though he'd prefer it to be a private moment. Somewhere he and Rook can enjoy each other's company and talk about it honestly, just with each other." [source]

User: "1. What was he good at in school besides anatomy? 👀 2. What's his favorite food right now? ✨️👀 3. Did he give Manfred his name himself or did he read the names in the book for Manfred to choose?" // Sylvia: "1. Grasping abstract and metaphysical concepts, and distilling them down into language suited for others, which is handy for both magecraft and professorship. And communing with spirits, so magical control. (I imagine the Watchers prize control greatly, since they work with spirits so closely, they're well aware how dangerous their focus is.) 2. Hrm. Uh...good question. Aside from being vegetarian, I don't think he's a picky eater, but he probably marvels at what a sure and skilled cook Lucanis is. 3. Emmrich likes giving Manfred some (limited, supervised) autonomy. But I think he named his skeleton companion himself." [source, two, three, four]

User: "Did he ever see Manfred as his son?" // Sylvia: "I think consciously, calling Manfred a son seems like one step too far for Emmrich right now, but he's absolutely paternal towards his bright young skeleton child." [source]

Sylvia on Emmrich: "He truly was a team effort. Everyone in level design, cine, art, audio, his voice actor, the other writers and editors contributed greatly to who he is." [source]

User: "Do you think he has a tattoo👀 Maybe a skull or the symbol of the moun watcher" // Sylvia: "I think this is a 'it wasn't shown in game, so I don't want to commit to anything' deal, sorry. (But feel free to imagine whatever you'd like!)" [source]

User: "what subjects did he study well when he was a student?" // Sylvia: "I think probably the same subjects as in the answer to question number 1. Though I do imply in dialogue that the Mourn Watch likes to give its members a well-rounded education in non-magical subjects- history, literature, etiquette etc." [source]

Sylvia: "Hey everyone, I'd like to correct a misassumption I've seen floating around. I saw a few people who saw my name attached to the codex system, and assumed I wrote the bulk of codex entries. That's not true at ALL. Codex writing was split roughly evenly among all the writers. I pitched some style and design suggestions to the narrative team. Then editor Cameron Harris did the actual structure, the docs and training, a lot of the editing, and the importation of all the legacy DAI entries." [source, two]

Sylvia: "Emmrich would be over the moon if Rook wanted to join the Mourn Watch. More time together in the Necropolis!" [source]

User: "From your point of view, do you think Emmrich is jealous? (a little?) I noticed that he liked some things related to the Storm age (he mentions it several times), is that a coincidence or is there a particular reason?" // Sylvia: "-I don't think he's beyond jealousy (few people are!) though it'd depend on the circumstance and what it was about. -Oops! Actual coincidence regarding the repeated mentions of the Storm Age." [source]

User: "1) Did you ever choose the name of the 5th Montilyet sibling? 2) What were the inspirations for her character? 3) If the player doesn't romance her, do you think she'd marry Otranto or would she pass him on to Yvette anyways?" // Sylvia: "1) You know, I never did! It remains unknown. 3) I think Otranto and Yvette are too perfect for each other for them not to get together, so it'd be appropriate if a comedy of errors going on inside the house Montilyet led to that happy outcome if you didn't romance her." [source, two]

User: "Curious how Nevarrans, and specifically Emmrich, would view stuff like Victorian mourning jewelry. Obviously would be horrified by the ones containing ashes, but what about hair? Wondering if it would be seen as special or grotesque!" // Sylvia: "What a good question! I think a lock of hair would be perfectly all right, even romantic. Perhaps a LITTLE bit of bone would be okay, though the actual Mourn Watch wouldn't love breaking up the body. I don't think they'd see keeping a small fragment or such as wrong, just a bit unfortunate." [source]

User: "I love your work and I wanted to thank you. Through how Emmrich is written I’ve realized that dying isn’t an option because there are people that care for me and I would be missed so I’m here and will be Also I wanted to share a song that reminds me of Emmrich’s romance: Deathproof by Graveyard Club" // Sylvia: "Thank you for saying so, Lena, and for sharing that. I'm glad getting to know Emmrich was helpful, even a little, and I hope it continues to be so. And thank you for the song rec! I have a real weakness for synths (may their comeback be eternal) and "You’re nowhere to be found/but you follow me around" is a killer set of lyrics especially." [source, two]

Sylvia on Emmrich: "There was a huge team working on him, and this is just what you hope to hear one day when embarking on making something." [source]

[clemelntine]

Heartkillers ep 10 uncohesive stray thoughts

With screenshots cuz I take to many and I'll feel like that's wasteful if I don't at least use them for a post

God, this scene reeks of codependency. But like in a good way, yknow. In an evidence of love way. They just don't want to be apart because they care. And I guess cuz they're scared they won't see each other again.

I love Fadel and his consistent morals. He'd been silent, letting Bison get his anger and revenge, cus that is not his main thing, but as soon as he hears any word of deciet or lies, he's right on his feet getting involved.

Yeah that checks.

I have to wonder, tho, if Lilly is a poisoner, why were Fadel and Bisons' parents shot? And why would she train them with a gun instead of the weapon she know best?

That's not the unbelievable part dear. She seems very capable of all that. Look at what she made you do

Acting like some housewives worrying about their husbands away at war or some shit.

Imma be real with you. I wasn't paying attention for a bit, and I read this as "Why don't you try and top Fadel?" and I got a little hopeful for a bit.

We've got a comeback from the -two rings on one finger, no other jewelry- look from style. Love this energy.

For anyone wondering, the first time we saw this was in episode 6 when he was out drinking with Kant, so it might just be what he wears when he goes to get drunk with his buddy. Guess there aren't too many occasions for a mechanic to wear a mid finger index ring. It tends to get in the way a lot when moving (like manual labor). And if you dont wear a ring often, choosing to wear no other jewelry to make your specialty ring pop makes a lot of sense.

Sorry, I looked too deeply into that.

Lillys actress is so stunning. The discomfort and distaste on her face is so subtle but to perfect.

Oh, drama, Keen already knows about (one of) their lovers and tried to kill him. I wonder why he used a gun, tho. The only flashback/scene we saw of them pre assassin, while training, was to show that Keen was a worse shot than Bison and Fadel. Did he improve or was the reason he missed (only hitting styles arm, not killing him) because he still has bad aim.

Also, could the tattoo be Kants' work? It kinda reminds me of his spiderweb arm tatoo, but that doesn't mean its his style (he might not have done his arm one himself), so who knows, maybe they know each other, maybe they don't.

Fucking romantic loser, holy shit. He couldn't see gay people without thinking of his boyfriend

That's not something to be fucking proud of cassie

Nr. 1 god his hair looks fucking good like this

Nr. 2 Mister poetry over here, annoying piece of shit with his lovey dovey words

Ofc Style would instigate a cheer, like this is a cheersquad and not a murder operation

I really need him to stop mentioning it all the time, like he is proud of it or something

Oh, uniform kink. Interesting

Okay, I kinda feel bad for Keen now. Nobody seems to care about him (except Thanon ig, I hope nothing bad happens to him). Lilly didn't even care enough to use him.

Also, jesus Fadel, you're brothers. You've never put in even an hour of effort to ask about his day or some shit, rude. (I get that they are all just a product of Lillys creation but but this seems a lil excessive)

With the tattoos. That is quite a bold plan. There is like a 50/50 change they (rich ladies) are put off by the tattoos. Guess some might see it as an adventure and be into it. It's still a gamble.

Also like how does he know golfing, tho? Had he golfed before, or is Kant just good at improvising, because he looked quite knowledgable.

The way he has lowered himself to look up at her through his lashes, the fucking bitch. Once again using First height for storytelling. This time, Kant has lowered himself to make Lilly feel like she is above him and in control.

Idk if she is open-minded or if she could just smell the gay on him.

Ahw, he cares. Does he expect Keen to do that, tho? Like Fadel knows that he already tried to kill Style and has shot him. He doesn't seem likely to suddenly care about the wishes of his brother, who doesn't even care about him.

Not too sure what it means but i just noticed that Fadel has his whole head and neck angled up while Styles face is pointed to the front and he is just looking up with his eyes, through his eyelashes.

Maybe it's to show that Fadel is more confrontational while Style is more scared of Keen.

Oh, calling his bluff, cute. I dont remember if Fadel backed down when Bison pointed his gun at Style but if he did (i think so) that contrast shows very well how succesfull Lilly has been in driving them apart by making them all think Keen is less capable (mostly because she just didnt let him train)

Ofcourse he has to brag, has to lay out his success (he could have kept it to himself to use it for longer, but whatever, guess he expects to take him out right here, right now). Because Keen doesn't actually have any negative feelings towards Fadel (except maybe jealousy), he mostly just wants to prove himself to be capable. Even though he is holding the gun, it is Lilly who has her finger on the trigger. Without her constant critique, he would have felt the need to do all this. It's really her words that are driving Keen to do this, not Fadel (and Bisons) actions.

Yeah, and i feel like Keen should know that. Doesnt he know about her killing Fadels boyfriend, and he knows she wants Style dead as well, he has all the evidence he needs to see that Fadel and Bison dont have any more freedom or happiness than he does, just more tasks.

The continual cutting to Style while they talk about Fadels ex probably has to tell us something, but i honeslty can't read that much off his face. Is he jealous?

You're telling me Fadel couldn't figure that out himself. Even if he didn't think about it too much then (too sad or something), now with this new info he has about her, it shouldn't come as that much of a shock. She killed your parents and is trying to kill your boyfriend. It is not odd to think this patern is connected.

The desparation in both his eyes, his words, and his voice; it's fucking heartbreaking

Squished Fadel, perfection

Styles speech was a lil akward, but he got his point across and he has never really been a poet before. The honesty, although clunky, makes it seem more vulnerable and true, more like Style

Fav scenes

Fadel and Bisons emotional breakdown in the abandoned building. Omg the feelings..

Kant golfing was very cute.

Kant and Bison in the empty pool. Shit was stunning.

Fadel and Styles last scene. Maybe I just like Fadel crying and strong emotions.

For anyone wondering about my statistics, I took a total of 180 screenshots. 81 of Fadel and or Style, 58 of Kant and or Bison, 10 of Keen, 8 of Bison and Fadel together, 7 of Reurat, 5 of Lilly, 5 of more than two characters in a shot, 3 of Kant and Style together, 2 of Lilly and Keen together, and 1 of Babe

[bippot]

Damsel

Story Summary -> Vigilante notices a girl and her not-so-nice boyfriend arguing, and just as the hero is about to reprimand the bad boyfriend, she does something unexpected. When she finds him a week later, they come to learn that they mesh together quite well. Will that chemistry remain when she knows who's under the visor?

Tags -> Unhealthy Relationships, Break Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Secret Identity, Idiots in Love, First Meetings, Coffee Date

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It was rare that the damsels Vigilante saved stuck around for much of a conversation. He'd kill the guy harassing them, the criminal's blood would splat on their pretty faces, and they'd run away in terror from the very sight of him. He'd get the occasional quiet, "Thank you," or the very loud, "Why the fuck did you kill him? You fucking weirdo!" but nothing more than that. Yeah, it sucked. He was used to it, though.

Maybe it was the suit. Adrian thought he had an approachable face, and his mask was hiding that. It wasn't as if he could risk taking his mask off - that would be so stupid - because anyone other than the 11th Street Kids knowing his identity was out of the question.

Then he came across a couple having an argument one night. That wasn't out of the blue: couples have arguments every day. Yet, they don't always happen at 12pm in the dingy alleyway between a shitty bar and a tattoo shop that had awful reviews - apparently, their infection rate was almost 80%. How they were still in business, he'd never know - and although the alley tended to be a hive of delinquency, there didn't seem to be any dealings going down. This wasn't a good place to hang out. Vigilante patrolled in this area for a reason.

The girlfriend was far too beautiful to be in this part of town. She was dressed up nice, far too nice, and had pretty nails and make-up as if she'd tried really hard to look her best for this date. The man, on the other hand, looked as if he was still wearing his work clothes. Even from where he was hiding behind the dumpster, Adrian couldn't help but notice how defeated she seemed. If she'd been livelier, maybe he would've enjoyed watching the whole thing go down. He could've treated it like he was watching one of those trashy reality shows, but, y'know, it was actual reality.

The girl was tired. So tired that she didn't care enough to raise her voice. She wasn't hysterical. There were no tears. No passion. Just a sad smile and an even sorrier, "I can't do this any more."

"Do what, babe?" The boyfriend replied, taking a drag of his cigarette, only to blow the smoke directly in her face. She let out a long-suffering sigh, waved it away, and stepped out of his breathing range.

"It's our anniversary, Charlie."

He scoffed, "I know that. Why the fuck do you think I brought you here?"

"I didn't expect to go to a perfect, like, fancy spot, but we could've gone to a restaurant, or maybe somewhere where your shoes don't stick to the floor because of how gross it is," the girl said, rubbing circles into her temples with her fingers in order to ease the headache that was forming. 

Adrian had only been in a few short-term relationships during his life. They never lasted long enough to reach an anniversary. But he knew that this bar was a poor choice of venue. It was cheap, seedy, filled with lowlifes, and, well, it smelt. Really bad. Boy, if Adrian was in the guy's position and had the chance to celebrate with a beautiful girl, he would've taken her to the new pizza place that opened a few doors down from Fennel Fields. It wasn't fancy, but there were candles and comfy booths and lots of flowers, and the food tasted fantastic. Every time he passed it, Adrian thought, 'That would be a nice spot to go on a date,' and that thought was immediately followed by the deprecating, 'Like, I could get a date.'

"I like this bar," Charlie defended himself. He flicked his cigarette to the ground. "Stomp it out for me, Y/N?"

Y/N looked down at her nice new shoes. She'd bought them specifically for tonight, and yeah, they were expensive and probably a bit impractical, but she wanted to make an effort. She agreed reluctantly and squished the butt underneath her shoe, but that was it. Y/N had never been a person who cared too much about appearances, whether about herself or those around her, and she knew that her shoe could be cleaned. In this moment, in the here and now, Y/N felt as if it mattered more than anything.

"Can we go home?" she urged, her voice so small and fragile that Charlie barely heard her at first. 

"I thought you wanted to fucking enjoy yourself, honey," Charlie responded, his expression hardening. "Do you think I wanted to do this tonight? My buddies said they were going to the range tonight, but I'm here. With you."

"Okay, Charlie." She wiped a hand down her face, smudging her eyeliner a bit. "Next time your buddies ask you to go to the range, you should go with them."

"Cool, thanks," Charlie grinned wolfishly, flashing a row of perfectly straight teeth. He didn't understand why she was being so chill about this whole thing, but he wasn't going to pass up this opportunity. 

Her hands rubbed up and down her bare biceps in order to warm herself up a bit. "Yeah, it's not as if you'll have a girlfriend to hold you back from doing whatever you want from now on," she announced confidently. She was determined, despite her fear, because she knew that her life would be so much worse without Charlie in it. 

Life as a single woman would be filled with freedom. No more arguments or screaming matches. No more being disappointed when Charlie chose his friends, his job, the Knicks game, and everything over her.

"Babe, knock it off," Charlie warned her.

It was at this part that Adrian knew what kind of guy Charlie was because just as Y/N was about to put some distance between them, he swiped his hand out and clamped his hand around her wrist, yanking her harshly towards him. "Ow. Let go, Charlie." She tried struggling free, but he held her tighter, keeping her firmly in place.

In an instant, Vigilante was revealing himself to step in. There was no way this situation could get any worse, right? If Vigilante stepped in now, the boyfriend would run away, and she'd be free of him from this moment on. "The lady wants to leave," Vigilante interrupted in a way so cheesy that the couple stopped in place instantly and stared at him. 

The arrival of this new person didn't cause Charlie to loosen his grip; quite the contrary. Y/N let out a pained whimper, and she was sure she'd have a red splotch on her skin when this was all over. "I think you might be hurting her, dude," Vigilante pointed out, taking a step closer to the pair, making Charlie tense up in anticipation of a fight. "You gonna let go, or do I have to make you let go?"

Charlie glared at the masked hero. "Fuck off," he growled. "She's my girl, 'dude.' I can do whatever I want with her."

Before Vigilante could say anything else, a punch happened. Y/N reared back and used her free hand to pummelled her boyfriend - ex-boyfriend now - right on his nose. He recoiled with a howl of pain, then cradled his reddened nose, looking ready to attack again.

"What the hell was that for?!"

Adrian was in love. He'd always been a sucker for a woman who was prepared to literally fight for herself. It was badass! She was a badass! She was so incredibly brave, fighting for herself instead of giving in.

With a grunt, Charlie lunged for Y/N, but Vigilante wedged himself between them before he got the chance. "Woah, woah, dude, cool your shit!" He pushed the guy away and stood protectively in front of Y/N. Vigilante, ever so gently, pulled her behind him like he was her personal bodyguard.

"It's probably best if you leave now, bud," Vigilante said, glancing down at Charlie, "Cause if you lay a hand on her again, I will force you to eat your own fingers."

That seemed to scare Charlie off a bit, since he took a step back. He glared at Vigilante for a second, thinking over how many bones the maniac would break if he tried one more time to grab his girlfriend and pull her away, before he realised that was a terrible idea. He scowled and muttered something under his breath, then turned to Y/N with a sneer. "We are going to talk about this tomorrow, Y/N."

"I will drop your stuff off on your doorstep tomorrow, but that's it."

"But-"

Vigilante unclipped his gun from his belt and waved it at Charlie. "I'm gonna shoot you in the ass in 3...2...."

Without hesitation, Charlie bolted down the street. Once he rounded the corner, Vigilante giggled, "The safety is on, fuckin' idiot!" to himself and placed the gun back on his belt.

Y/N didn't move from where she was standing. She stayed frozen in her spot until, all of a sudden, her throat released a joyous cheer; her eyes were bright and shiny, and she jumped up and down. She couldn't contain her excitement.

"Thank you!"

"Me? You're the one who sucker-punched him! You were just like, POW!" He mimicked her punch, and even though she couldn't see his face, she could tell that he had a wide grin. "Ooh, that had to hurt!"

She laughed, feeling so, so giddy, and she wrapped her arms around his torso to give him a big hug, causing him to stumble slightly, but he caught his balance. He didn't know what to do. What do you do when a random pretty girl throws herself at you? In Adrian's case, just stand there awkwardly as she hugs you. It wasn't exactly an experience he was well versed in.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump on you like that," she apologised, her cheeks burning. She pulled away from him and stepped backward. 

"No, no, it's okay," he insisted, trying to sound as confident as possible. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "I uh... are you, y'know, good? Like, that was super cool and all, but does your fist hurt?"

"A little," she admitted, rubbing the knuckles of her right hand, which were beginning to swell. "It was kind of cool of me, wasn't it?"

"It was epic, Y/N!" He cheered. "Just super hot!"

Y/N laughed again, though this time it was far more flustered. She tried her hardest not to react in any way to his comment, but there was a prominent blush on her cheeks, which told a different story. And it only got worse when he continued to compliment her. 

"I mean, this dress is, like, perfect on you, and then you took a swing at him and..." He made a horny groan. "I gotta stop before I pop a boner."

He was expecting repulsion or disgust, but instead Y/N cackled. She had a great laugh. It was warm and bubbly, and she didn't seem to shy away from how lively it was.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that last part out loud," Adrian murmured as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh, I, uh, wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw him grab you and..." 

He glanced down at her wrist to find that a red mark was already forming, so Adrian gently reached for her hand and brushed his gloved thumb across the sensitive skin there. "This is going to bruise. You got any Arnica at home?" he asked, concern colouring his tone.

"Probably, yeah. I bet there's a tube somewhere in my apartment."

"It sucks. Everyone knows you don't bruise pretty girls." He tipped his head just a little bit as if he was thinking. "Unless they ask and you have spoken about boundaries and consent and degrees of impact play beforehand."

Honestly, Y/N didn't know how to respond. He'd said it so casually, almost as if he hadn't complimented her, then proceeded to talk about safe, rough sex like he was talking about the weather. He continued to stroke his thumb across the veins in the middle of her wrist, and while she appreciated the gesture, she also didn't think it was fair to Charlie to indulge in this other man literally five minutes after their argument.

"I should... I should go," Y/N muttered quietly after a moment. Vigilante nodded, reluctantly letting go of her. "Thank you, again. Thank you for cheering me up. I needed it."

"Anytime."

He smiled softly, his gaze dropping to the ground momentarily before meeting hers once again. He gave her a nod and watched as Y/N started walking away, trying her best to ignore the overwhelming desire to get to know the funny guy in the hot superhero suit. Just before she was out of sight, she turned back around to give him a little wave, which he returned without hesitation. He waved his arm from side to side rather than his hand like a child. It made her laugh once again, and that was entirely his objective.

"She was so hot, oh my god," Adrian mumbled to himself. "Focus on patrol, dude. Gotta get my mind off that fuckin' babe."

To shake away the thoughts, he literally shook his whole body. He twisted and turned and swung his arms around as if he was performing a weird dance routine. After a few moments, he stopped moving and just stood still to see if it had worked.

He bet Y/N would've found his little jiggle funny.

"Shit."

Nope. The thought of her was still firmly planted in his mind. She was stuck there, and a part of him never wanted her to leave. It certainly didn't help that he came across her in the exact same alley a week later. She wasn't in date attire this time, just a nice t-shirt and skirt, but still was a knockout.

Clearly, two drunk guys also thought so too, as she was politely trying to decline their advances despite their persistent attempts to convince her to go on a date. They both seemed oblivious to her disinterest in their proposition and kept pressing her further, making her increasingly uncomfortable. "Come on, baby, let me show you a good time!" The first one cooed, reaching out to touch her cheek. She flinched away and attempted to move out of his reach. "Aw, c'mon, why you gotta be such a prude?!"

As Y/N went to reply, she noticed a familiar red visor walking up behind the two men. Vigilante was the reason why she was here. She'd intended to thank him for giving her the confidence to officially break up with her douchebag boyfriend and offer to buy him the most expensive cocktail that the bar sold. But as they often do, a man - or in this case, two men - had to go and try to ruin a woman's night.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"There we go, sweetheart, there's that smile you were missing," the other of the pair purred.

"Look behind you," she whispered with glee.

The two of them whipped their heads around, only to immediately lose all semblance of coherent thought when they caught sight of Vigilante. Their eyes bugged out, and they began stumbling backward, trying desperately to get away from the hero. 

"Heeeeeey, Vigilante, we were just talkin' to our girl and-"

"Oh, you were just talking?"

"Uh, yep."

Vigilante narrowed his eyes. The two guys looked scared shitless now and even though the red visor obscured his dark expression, his gaze, plus his posture and body language, gave him a dangerous aura. He slowly walked closer to them, and they scrambled to try to run away. The playfulness of his usual demeanour returned for a moment to ask Y/N, "Want me to beat them up?"

"Honestly, yeah. They're dicks."

"Fuckin' sick."

In an instant, Vigilante took the lid off the nearest bin and chucked it at the legs of the fleeing men, sending them sprawling onto the concrete floor with a cry of pain. Vigilante didn't waste a second before stalking towards them and focusing on the one who'd creepily stroked Y/N's face - who he called Creep #1 in his head - and kicking him in the stomach so the guy let out a whimper.

Creep #2 attempted to crawl away, but he didn't get very far. Vigilante grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him off the ground. The man stared up at him with fear in his eyes and started spouting gibberish, begging for forgiveness. Vigilante ignored him and lifted him right off the ground before slamming him against the wall. "Personally, I think you should apologise to the pretty lady. What do you think, Y/N? Do you want an apology?"

"I'd love an apology."

"You heard the lady," Vigilante urged, "Apologise."

Pathetically, the guy babbled out a few words, none of them understandable, before finally settling on the fact that he was sorry. With that being said, he started sobbing like an infant, begging for mercy and for someone else to save him. The sound of his pleas did nothing to deter Vigilante, however, and he simply dragged Creep #1 beside his buddy and held a gun to his head. "Your turn," Adrian hissed menacingly, pointing the barrel into Creep #1's temple.

Thanks to their previous meeting, Y/N knew that he hadn't clicked the safety off and knew that he was just threatening them like he'd done to her ex-boyfriend. She could indulge in the power of having Vigilante as a guard dog without having to worry that he was actually going to blow their brains out. Well, he could. With one little click, he could make this situation very messy. 

Maybe it would be best if she cut this short in order to prevent that from happening.

"If you promise to leave women who you don't know alone, I'll let you run away now," Y/N offered, and they were nodding frantically. 

They didn't need to be told twice and rushed to mumble out apologies before running away and disappearing down the opposite end of the alley.

"Fancy seeing you here, Y/N."

"I was looking for you."

This was unheard of. Nobody ever sought him out. Usually, it was the other way around.

"You were looking for me? Like, really?"

"Really."

He swung his arms back and forth like a child who couldn't sit still as the excitement bubbled up inside him. The possibility that she'd had one thought - even one that was fleeting and negative - about him was huge news. Their time together, no matter how short it had been, had left an imprint on her brain.

"I just wanted to, um, buy you a beer or cocktail or a smoothie or a coffee. Whatever you want, actually."

"What about a hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, I'll get you a hot chocolate. I don't know if there's a coffee shop open at this time, but we can look."

So, the search began. She began to walk out of the alley in search of a cafe, and he hurried after her, trying not to make a fool of himself by tripping over his own because he couldn't stop staring at her ass. Did he stumble after every other step? Yes, yes he did. Adrian caught up with her eventually. She'd been talking to him about something, probably guesstimating how far they'd have to walk, and thanks to the mask, she had no idea that his brain was switching between 'wow, she has a great ass' and 'stop being a fucking pervert.'.

Soon, a glowing Starbucks logo could be seen in the glowing distance, and, luckily, it was in the safer part of town that she'd parked in. Y/N guided him towards her vehicle.

"Why are you buying me hot chocolate?"

Y/N nonchalantly shrugged and kept her eyes on the street ahead of her. "To say thanks for saving me from an awful relationship... and just then, I guess, so double thanks."

"Oh." He was so relieved that she couldn't see the dopey expression on his face or the pink across his cheeks and nose. "Double you're welcome, then."

The pair decided that it would be best if they used the drive-through. The wanted serial murderer Vigilante couldn't walk into a Starbucks without someone calling the cops on him. That wouldn't have gone down well at all. Besides, it was nice for them to continue their alone time.

While Y/N ordered and interacted with the bored teen at the drive-through window, Vigilante ducked down into the footwell in the hopes he couldn't be seen. "Who's that guy?" The college kid at the window asked as they pointed towards the lump of Kevlar in the passenger's seat. 

Furrowing her brows as if she was confused by the question, Y/N smirked, "What guy?" and drove away before any further investigation could be conducted, leaving the poor kid to wonder whether he was seeing things.

They parked up in a nearby lot and just sat there, talking, both taking sips of their hot chocolates as they spoke. It was a bit weird to watch an adult man push a straw up his superhero mask in order to consume a whipped cream-topped drink, but Y/N had to admit that he was quite cute while doing so. And even when their drinks had completely depleted, they continued talking. Adrian had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be on patrol, but as much as he tried, he was unable to focus properly on anything else when Y/N was sitting next to him with that beautiful smile of hers.

"How does your mask work?" Y/N enquired, and there was a hint of something in her voice that Adrian couldn't quite place in the moment, but he would come to understand in a minute or two.

"It's a pull-on."

"Yeah?" She leaned across the gearstick, her fingers drifting from the centre of his chest up to the hemline of his mask. She hesitated a moment before her forefinger delved underneath the fabric. "Is it a full-on/full-off kind of thing? Or can you, y'know, roll it up to here?"

With her other hand, she poked at the area between the top of his lip and nose.

"It can roll," Adrian said in almost a whisper. His heart was beating hard and fast. 

Why wasn't he doing anything? She was one tug away from revealing his identity, and he just sat there, completely frozen. He watched as she lifted the bottom of his mask and rolled it up enough to reveal his mouth, which was parted slightly in surprise. Did he have any idea what she was doing and why he was letting her do this? No, not a clue. Did he just accept whatever it was she'd planned, assuming that would respect his boundaries despite the fact that they didn't really know each other?

Luckily, what she wanted to do was exactly the same as what he wanted to do.

"Vigilante?"

"Hmmm...?"

He'd often been told that he was dumb, but right here in this moment, he was so glad that there was nothing in his brain. He couldn't form a coherent sentence, so he didn't even try. He willingly let her tilt his chin and didn't even try to hide the way his breath hitched because of that.

"I don't have a boyfriend anymore. I'm completely single and want to thank you for saving me. So...?"

"Oh!"

Now, he understood. His lips were on hers immediately, and he kissed her with everything he had in him. His hands moved to cup her cheeks, fingers ghosting along the contour of her face until they met her hair and tangled themselves in her strands, holding her to him like a lifeline.

"You taste like hot chocolate," he mumbled against her mouth as he pulled away, causing her smile to stretch wider than she thought possible.

"So do you."

She smiled coyly, her voice barely above a murmur, before she leaned back in again. They kissed again. And again. Each time growing more heated than the last.

"C'mere," he whined as he moved his arm around her hips, gently tugging her across the console and onto his lap. She brought her legs up on either side of him, allowing herself to press against his chest and her hands gripping onto the fabric of his suit.

With every passing second and each smack of their lips, the desire that was beginning to build up in Adrian grew stronger. His suit was great for battle, but thanks to his mask and gloves, his touch sensitivity was severely lacking, so he broke apart for as long as it took to bite his gloves off. As soon as they were removed, he couldn't stop the way his palms had drifted from where they started just above her knee up to her thigh, the edge of her skirt brushing against his bare hand, and up and up and up until he had a handful of her ass.

"Fuck," Adrian muttered as he felt her panties under his thumb. He couldn't think of a better word to describe the sensation. It was overwhelming. Exhilarating. And so, so sexy. 

It was 'Fuck.' 

"Fuck," she echoed. The word was breathless, a little husky, and filled with longing and need. She had to pull away. Her breath was heavy, her chest rising and falling in excitement as they looked at each other with lustful eyes. "Do you wanna, - I can't believe I'm going to ask this like we're horny teenagers - wanna get in the backseat?"

Vigilante stared at her for what seemed to be forever as he processed what she'd said. A smirk found its way onto his lips, making his dimples appear. "You mean, like, fuckin'? Right?" he felt the need to confirm, just to make sure. 

He'd read situations like this wrong before, and he didn't want to fuck this up. She nodded and laughed a short, breathy laugh, and suddenly, he was laughing too.

"Awesome, I'd be honoured to fuck you."

Though her car wasn't the biggest, she was climbing past the gap between the front seats. For a few brief seconds, her ass was directly beside his head, and, yeah, Adrian wasn't going to pass up a chance to spank her. "Hey!" She exclaimed, though there wasn't a hint of anger in her tone or annoyance on her features. 

Instead, Y/N sat in the backseat and beckoned Vigilante to follow her with a seductive finger curl. Obviously, he complied and was crawling his way into the back of the vehicle for some debauchery. The car got all steamed up from all their heavy breathing and general sweatiness combined. It wasn't the most comfortable they'd ever been, to say the least, but they were still incredibly satisfied when all was said and done.

Y/N flopped her forehead onto Vig's shoulder pad as she caught her breath, her heart rate slowly coming back down to normal after their physical activity.

"I really liked fucking you," he said bluntly, "Like, seriously, that was amazing. Fuckin' fantastic."

"I really liked being fucked by you."

She did an extremely unattractive snort, but that didn't deter him from tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and cupping her cheek. Their faces were inches apart, and he could see all of her freckles and each little detail of her facial features. He wanted to memorise every single one of them, no matter how fleeting these moments might turn out to be.

Vigilante placed a soft, gentle kiss on the side of her head and put a hand behind her neck to massage it gently, making her sigh blissfully and relax more into his embrace. "We should go soon. I think this parking lot closes at 12," he commented. Y/N looked up at the visor still covering his gaze, her eyes going all doe-ish, and hummed in agreement. 

Yeah, she wanted to stay in this moment for as long as she was allowed to, but she'd definitely be fined, and her car would be stuck in the lot until the morning. 

"I have an apartment," she added.

"Oh, cool. So do I."

"Let me rephrase that. I have an apartment with a big, comfy bed that I wouldn't mind - " Y/N paused to brush her thumb along his bottom lip. " - sharing with you."

"...Wha? Are you being for real? Am I dreaming?" 

This was going so well that there was a high probability that it was a fantasy. Maybe if Adrian closed his eyes hard enough, he'd wake up to find himself lying in bed at home with a wet patch on the sheets. But they proceeded to repeat the debauchery as soon as they stepped within the threshold of her apartment, and then they repeated it again and again. And again the next day. And the day after that too. And quickly, a routine began.

Every night, Vigilante would: 1) carry out his patrol, 2) make his way to her apartment, and 3) then tug the bottom half of his mask up as he knocked on her front door. He would be bringing her into a snog the second she was revealed to him.

They didn't always fuck - though it was more often than not - but often found themselves chatting away instead, laughing or telling stories, and sometimes even just kissing. It was as if they were a couple, except for the fact she had no idea who he was.

But she would. Life has a way of making things happen, no matter how unexpected or unwanted the thing may have been. Was it Y/N's choice to go to Fennel Fields for a family dinner? No, that was her father's fault. He'd heard that the mozzarella sticks were pretty tasty, and that was enough to sway her ol' pa.

Throughout the dinner, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. She had no idea whether it was malicious voyeurism or maybe she just had something in her teeth. Either way, she could feel eyes burning a hole through her skull. She glanced around for a clue of what was going on or who it might be, but there was no sign of anything amiss.

"You okay, honey?" Y/N's mother whispered, noticing how distracted she had been. It wasn't that unusual for Y/N to zone out during family dinners, especially when her brother's stories got super boring, which they often did. 

"Hmmm...? Yes, yeah, I'm okay." Her eyes scanned the restaurant once more. Still nothing. "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

On her way to the ladies, Y/N noticed a certain busboy with serial killer specs that seemed somewhat familiar to her. A customer asked him a question, and he tilted his head to the side and looked upwards as if he was searching his brain for what to say. Weird. Vigilante did that too. 

It had been hard to notice at first. The visor hid most of his facial mannerisms, but she always had a particular fondness for his eyes. Honestly, it may have been a coincidence. People are allowed to share mannerisms. A lot of people talk with their hands, but that simple commonality doesn't mean the individuals are alike in any way. 

So, she let it slide and went to the bathroom just as she said she would.

It was unfortunate for Adrian that the layout of the restaurant meant that to get to the kitchen, you'd have to pass by the entrance to the bathrooms. He'd been attempting to avoid Y/N as soon as he saw her arrive. That became impossible to do as the pair bumped into each other when he walked directly in front of the bathroom door as she was exiting it.

If he didn't have super quick reflexes, they both would have been wiped out. He managed to regain his footing and grabbed hold of her elbows to steady her and stopped Y/N from tumbling backward. His eyes widened as soon as he realised who was before him, and he quickly let go of her arms as soon as he registered who she was.

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry. Did I-"

Same mannerisms, same voice, and now that he was up close, she could see that the bottom half of his face was similar to. She hovered her palm over the top portion of his face, and yeah, things made sense now. This random busboy was Vigilante. There was no way she could've mistaken him. 

She cooed, "Hey, baby."

Every single particle of Adrian's being wanted to soften, but he kept his mouth in a frown. Sure, the corners of his lips kept twitching upwards, but he was trying.

"D-do, do I k-know you?" He stammered, though he was very unconvincing. 

The cat was out of the bag, and there wasn't any way it could be stuffed back in. Not when she titled his name badge so she could read what it said.

"I'll see you later, Adrian. Leave this uniform on for me. There's no need to dress up, okay?"

With those words, she gave him a peck on the cheek and returned to her family dinner without giving him the chance to protest. Adrian stared after her for what felt like hours before his manager yelled at him to get back to work.

Working after that was hard. His mind was elsewhere. It was running through all the scenarios that could go wrong because of this interaction. All of them ended terribly. And all of them ensured that his work performance had plummeted dramatically. So dramatically, in fact, that his boss thought he'd come down with some fast-acting disease and sent him home early.

Adrian was at Y/N's apartment half an hour before she got home. He'd debated with himself about picking her lock multiple times but ultimately decided against it since he was dressed as himself and one of her neighbours had greeted him as they passed.

"Fancy seeing you here, Vig." She whispered his name teasingly and smiled at him as she opened the door for him.

"Uh... hi," he murmured, unsure of what else he should say. He cleared his throat and tried for a nonchalant, "...Can I come in?"

"You usually just walk in these days," she responded, closing the door behind him and crossing her arms across her chest.

"Well... um..." He scratched the back of his head nervously, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "I wanted to see you. And, uh, for you to... see me. I totally understand if you're not into it now that the mystery is gone, but-"

He was cut off as Y/N pulled him closer by his collar, placing her hands on either side of his face and pressing her lips against his own. Adrian's eyes closed as he reciprocated the kiss, slowly leaning his body closer and closer towards hers.

"I imagined what you looked like so many times."

"I'm sorry. You probably were expecting -"

Once again, he was interrupted by Y/N snogging the hell out of him. "You're better than what I expected, so pretty," she breathed between kisses. Adrian ran his fingers through her hair and held her firmly against him. Their tongues entwined together, sending sparks of electricity throughout their bodies.

It took 0.0000002 seconds for him to come to a decision on how to proceed. His shirt was whipped off and thrown somewhere else before his lips pressed against hers and pinned her to the nearest wall.

"Promise to keep my secret?"

"What secret?"

"...The Vigilante thing."

"Yeah, I know. I was doing the... forget it. I promise not to tell anyone about your alter ego, Vee."

Y/N giggled when she felt Adrian's nose gently bump hers. Gently, she took his hand and led him towards her bedroom. She'd done that so many times before, yet this was the first instance where she got to witness the lovesick look on his face.

From here on out, she would continue to see that look since it had never left his face when she was around. And if he happened to have his visor on, she knew what was hidden underneath and how dopey of a smile he'd have.

*Click here for my masterlist*

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[myfairkatiecat]

The Katielife Soap Opera™️

Here's the drama that's going on, all in the past 24 hours! I kid you not. 24. I almost said 48 but then did the math and realized it really was 24. This day will never end

Part 1: The Roommate Saga

Making this one short bc I've told you all about it, but long story short: my roommate in the first semester was seeing this ugly ass guy and she was on and off with him in this awful situationship. He ended up giving her mono (which he knew he had) and she still went back to him. Eventually she ended them for good--until she was drunk at a party last weekend! Okay but seriously they're done for good now.

Don't believe her? Yeah, neither did I. You can read all about it in my past roommate saga posts, which have been made. But now there's ANOTHER guy! I found out bc last night he slid a note under our door telling her to send him a cute pic! She spilled the tea and it turns out he's a player but he's cute so she's going for it anyway! Technically he's Christian, so she's like, "he doesn't break The Rule!" But... he's... he's a fuckboy... I am floored by her poor decision making.

Part 2: The Mr. Friendtoallwomen Saga

Mr. Friendtoallwomen has been making friends with a lot of women at this college. He's a genuinely nice guy and even made friends with me and my best friend. But here's the thing... he always has a crush on a new one of those women. He's always asking girls out. He hangs out with all these girls one on one. He's just desperate.

Desperate, but genuinely nice, so my friend doesn't want to STOP being friends with him.

Then it became increasingly obvious that he liked her.

And she began to catch feelings for him, but we all warned her it was a bad idea and she agreed. She eventually, after an agonizing week, managed to lose feelings for him.

He was being super touchy feely with her the other night, but then abruptly switched on the same night to being touchy with another of our friends. Afterwards, he told my best friend that he liked the other friend. (The other friend already had been asked out by him and rejected him.) My best friend cried about it before remembering that she didn't like him or want to date him.

Mr. Friendtoallwomen got stood up by the other girl, and is now back to liking my best friend. But my best friend has bigger problems now...

Part 3: The Urgent Care Saga

For you see, then my best friend got very very sick. Incredibly sick. Her roomate and I were incredibly worried about her (even her roomate, who is an overall terrible person and always mean to her, which is how you KNOW something is wrong). (Oh I should do a tea spill session on why we hate her roommate on another date.) So I went to get my car to take her to urgent care but found out my key was broken. Awesomesauce.

I have an old car with a manual key insert though, so it was ok and I was able to get my car working.

I take her to urgent care. We sit in the waiting room for 40 minutes while she's about to puke, trash talking the people working there in Spanish because they weren't doing their jobs? Like they just sat there gossipping while they had her id and insurance card.

She eventually gets in, sees a male doctor, the male doctor figures out she's on her period and dismisses her entire illness as symptoms of Being A Woman. When she pointed out that she had a fever, he considered that it could be an STD. She said no, it's not that, I'm not sexually active. He considers pregnancy. She again is like did you not just hear me. By the way, if you're wondering what her symptoms were and why he was assuming THAT had to be the cause? WHO KNOWS?! major nausea, involuntary shaking, fever, hot cold flashes, inability to move, fuzzy vision, wheezing, coughing up green chunks, and being unable to think definitely seem like your average womanhood symptoms.

He gave her some nausea meds, referred her to a gyn (????????) and sent her home. (???????????????????)

Part 4: The First Breakup Saga

Today, I get a text from a friend from home who said he broke up with his boyfriend. This was major news. The two of them have been dating for two years. Even worse, all of their friends are the same people.

Now, I knew their relationship wasn't going to work out. The guy I was friends with first just has some quirks about him that meant he and this other guy, who I also liked a lot and is a great person, were never going to be able to work out long term. It's complicated and I don't want to get into it, but I just knew.

I still felt awful for him, though. So when he needed someone to talk to, I was there for him and let him explain the story. Apparently the guy did it in a few text messages out of nowhere after a week of silence. A+ communication, folks. My friend said he's not even angry, he's just sad and still loves him. I jokingly told him to put on SOUR.

Basically, my friend was broken up with (for the exact reason I figured would happen) and I texted my family (who was close with these friends and who also were worried their relationship wouldn't work out) and told them it happened. I needed somewhere I could say "I'm glad they broke up sooner rather than later" without seeming insensitive, and that couldn't be my friend group. But I really did feel for my friends.

While I'm on this call, I get a text from my brother saying he wants advice on how to break up with his girlfriend.

Part 5: The Second Breakup Saga

I leave the call with my friend to talk to my brother. He's fifteen, he's in a great, healthy relationship with a girl he was close friends with, and I'm like, HELLO??? They were a fantastic relationship. They were good friends, grew closer and closer until they were obviously going to date, and then they started dating and everything was great.

And then my brother texts and basically says the same thing my friend's boyfriend said about their relationship. I was like, this cannot be happening.

I grilled my brother for reasons, making him articulate his feelings (he's a 15 year old boy. he's scared of emotions. I get it.) He basically says the vibes feel weird and he wants the friendship back. My heart is breaking for his girlfriend because they're so cute and sweet and she loves him so much, but I agree he shouldn't string her along, no matter how sad it is. So I tell him to not do it over text, and he agrees.

He wants to do it in person, but it isn't going to be an option, so we resolved he would do it over facetime and I coached him slightly on how to talk to her about it gently. I mention the breakup between my friend and his boyfriend.

My brother goes oh yeah, about that....

Part 6: The Accidentally Starting a Rumor Saga

Turns out, remember how I texted my family? Here I'll copy and paste that part: I texted my family (who was close with these friends and who also were worried their relationship wouldn't work out) and told them it happened. I needed somewhere I could say "I'm glad they broke up sooner rather than later" without seeming insensitive, and that couldn't be my friend group. Yeah so remember how that happened?

Turned out, my brother opened that message sequence while a mutual friend of us and the boyfriends who broke up was looking over his shoulder. That friend took the phone and read over the whole dang exchange, seeing me say that I was secretly glad it happened. It looked really really really bad.

He went into basically shock, because no one thought this couple was gonna break up (EXCEPT ME!!! BECAUSE I KNEW MY FRIEND REALLY REALLY WELL!!!!!) and he was really attatched to them both. He found out simultaneously that the two of them were officially over AND that I never believed in them in the first place! And now he's probably going to spread that around! Which is great!

I texted my friend to let him know that this happened and told him I was so sorry. Well... I told him about the "this guy found out by looking at my brother's texts" thing. I didn't tell him the whole "I never thought this relationship was going to work" thing, and I am PRAYING that doesn't get spread around. But this guy is in high school, and high schools are breeding grounds for atrocious rumors.

THIS WAS ALL IN 24 HOURS

THIS DAY WILL NEVER END

[obvithe-bestsoph]

No. 27 | "Don't cry, I hate it when you cry." PG6

masterlist requests prompt list (if you request a prompt, please request a player for it as well!) warnings: none.

After yet another long day of work, you walk back through your apartment door and put your bag and coat on the hanger, tiredly wandering into the dining room and rubbing your eyes. You get the fright of your life, your boyfriend sitting at the table with a giant grin. After you calm down from the scare, you laugh slightly.

“Dios mío, Pablo. Some warning would’ve been nice.” He stands up and comes towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Lo siento (i’m sorry), I wanted to surprise you.” “Well, you definitely nailed the ‘surprise’ bit.” you chuckle, laying your head on his chest. “I cooked for you. Your favourite.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? Why?” “Why not?” he shrugs, “You’re my girlfriend, I love you, I wasn’t busy, and I assumed you would’ve had a long day, so I did something nice.” You smile slightly, “Of course you did. You’re too good to me.” “Just as good as you deserve. Now, sit.” he pulls out your chair for you and more or less forces you down into it.

A plate of (your favourite food) is put in front of you, and you grin up at Pablo. “Gracias, mi alma (thank you, my soul).” “De nada (you’re welcome).” “So how was training today?” you ask, looking at him as you both begin to eat. “Good, I think we’ll play well in the game on Wednesday. Speaking of, are you gonna be able to come?” “I wish, and I hope so, but I’d have to ask my boss to finish an hour early. And when she’s the one approving it, there’s a very small chance it’ll actually happen. But if I can’t be there in person, I’ll be secretly checking the score on my phone under my desk.” you smile weakly, you really are sick of your nightmare of a boss. Pablo frowns. “How come everyone else’s leave always gets approved, but never yours? How come she always gives you more work than everyone else? Does she not like you or something?” You sigh and shrug, “Honestly, your guess is as good as mine. It sure seems like she doesn’t like me, but I have no idea why. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything wrong or made a mistake around her.” Pablo’s frown only grows. “I don’t understand why you even still work there, why can’t you just find another job? Hell, why can’t you just quit? I’ve told you before, I make more money than I know what to do with, it would literally be no problem if you stopped working, let me support you, and moved into my apartment with me.”

“Because I’d feel bad.” “Well, that’s stupid. Why?” “Just because. You don’t need to be paying for all my shit on top of all yours.” Pablo rolls his eyes. “You aren't a particularly expensive person, Y/N. You rarely even let me buy you anything. You insist on paying for your portion of meals and always buy me far too much for Christmas and my birthday, etc.” “Yes, because I’m your girlfriend, not your financial burden.” “Spoiling the love of my life every once and a while is hardly a ‘financial burden.’ You’re being ridiculous.” “I don’t want to argue with you, long story short, the answer is no. It’s just one annoying boss, nothing I can’t handle. And I’m fine with working.” Pablo scoffs and the room is silent for a few moments. “Look, I only suggest it because I love you, okay? I want you to just be able to come to my games, home or away, and not have to know about it 2 weeks before so you can apply for leave, only for it to be denied by that demon of a boss you have. I hate that you’re always exhausted on all our dates because you’ve had a long week, that you fall asleep so early that we never have time to do anything… fun… at night anymore. I just want you to be free and happy. Por favor? Para mi? (please? for me?)”

You look at him for a moment before looking down at your plate again. “I’ll think about it.”

Pablo grinned again, he knew that was more a less an ‘Okay, fine, you win.’

“Gracias. Te amo, mi vida (thanks. i love you, my life).”

Later that night, you guys were cuddled up on your couch, Pablo was watching the movie that was on the TV screen, and you were on your phone. Finally, he looked down. “What are you doing?” he asks curiously. You look up at him and grin. “Sending in my resignation notice.” His eyes go wide and he sits upright, “You’re kidding.” “Nope.” “Oh my god!” he breaks out into yet another grin, pulling you into a proper hug. “Thank you, thank you so much,” he whispers into the skin of your neck. “Why are you thanking me? It should be the other way around, you’re the one who’s basically retiring me early.” you smile, and Pablo chuckles lightly. Eventually, Pablo calms down from his excitement a little and watches over your shoulder as you finish typing out the email. “I can’t believe I’m seriously about to do this.” you say quietly, your finger hovering over the ‘Send’ button. “Neither, but I promise, you won’t regret it.” he presses his lips to the top of your head. A few moments go by, and you still don’t press the button. “Are you gonna send it, or what?” “Pablo, I’m scared,” you whisper, looking up at him, and he can see the worry and uncertainty in your eyes. His expression and tone soften, “Why?” “I don’t know… I just am.” “You don’t have to do this right now, you know?” “I know, but I want to.” “Then send it.” “I can’t.” “Well, that’s kinda stupid.” You thrust the phone into his hand. “You do it.” “You’re sure?” You nod. Pablo hits send, and just like that, you’ve quit your job. You stare at the ‘Sent’ message for a moment before bursting into tears, burying your face into Pablo’s chest. He shushes you gently, rubbing your back and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, before eventually pulling your head away so he can look into your eyes. “Don’t cry, I hate it when you cry. What’s wrong?” he asks gently. “I- I’m just so happy. Thank you, Pablo. Thank you so much for this opportunity.” you sniff, speaking shakily through the tears. “Anything for you, mi niña preciosa (my precious girl).” he murmurs.

“I love you.” “I love you too, más que nada (more than anything).”

[candyswirls]

Can we get Neoth panicking about Lilith's existence and thinking her a monster before realizing she's just like any other ten year old when she starts purring in his lap?

Well, and animalistic as well as cannibalistic due to the blood drinking, but she's fine, she just has the same markings as some African grass finch chicks have-

He rested his head on his fist, watching his grandchild. What did he do to merit this within her?

She had happily given him a wide, opened mouth smile. Those spots within her mouth and cheeks... inhuman. He felt guilt as she saw his expression and quickly pulled back.

What did this mean, though?

His mind ran through all the various gene-splicing he'd done when creating his sons. Was it his decision? What about Amar and Erda? No, he closely monitored the project.

This had to be his fault. Sanguinius had been worried. She wasn't growing and was turning a sickly pale shade. Weaker than usual. Duller.

She seemed interested enough in her hobbies, and he gladly indulged in it. He offered her a skull to carve into. He'd have been worried if this interest had Dorn not told him how they bonded over the shared aspect of each other's cultures.

Still, he questioned if this was the surface of something for more morbid.

She sat at the base of the throne steps.

"I usually use the tibia or humerus," she stated as she inspected the designs around the eye sockets.

"Not the femur?" He questioned, trying to keep the conversation going. He wouldn't ignore or dismiss her.

"No," she said. "It's too bulky for the types of designs and artistic vision I have. The really hard part is the small bones, though, like fingers. Lots of little details, and I am bigger than baselines. You have to be careful not to break them. It's considered bad luck and disrespectful to the dead."

He nodded slowly even though she couldn't see.

She continued, "Some say that I could just use astartes skeletons, but they don't offer their own for such purposes, and the ceramic infused bones are hard to carve into."

He raised a brow, "The bones are donated. An interesting aspect."

She looked up at him, "It's seen as a great honor to become a work of art and its also an honor to do it for someone. If you ever wanted I could carve your bones."

He stared a moment, and she laughed, "As if you'd ever die! No, but I think it's important to have that promise there."

He had seen the markings again but forced a smile through, "I am flattered at your offer. No doubt you would do well with my bones."

He was the master of mankind but right now, he had another important duty. Being a grandfather.

She stood and skipped up the steps. She kneeled at the throne, resting her elbows on his lap.

"Since it won't happen, I can show you what I'd do," she stated excitedly.

She pointed out each carving on the skull and what it meant. What she would do for him. How she would do things differently than this skull and others she'd carved into.

"I could use xenos or animal bones too and make you something," she offered. "I just need to find some really good ones."

Her glee was obvious.

He stroked her head, "Your father is very proud, I'm sure. I am as well. You take great care in your work. A worthy endeavor."

A smile crossed her face and she rested a head on his lap.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

He got the distinct impression that she needed to hear that. He continued stroking her head and hair and noticed a low and soothing rumble coming from Lilith. Purring. Like so many of his sons could do.

This put himself at ease as well. She'd be alright. She was very much a child. Only caring for her interests and wanting to have validation. She bore no ill will, and he'd have time to figure out something if anything did happen.

He just hoped there wasnt any romantic traditions with this. Throne forbid the day she developed a crush.

[lapisnotlazuli]

Calling Lapis fans/defenders "gooners" is insanely closed minded of people. Steven Universe is a show where things aren't black and white because it is written realistically. Just because someone takes the time to understand or defend a character doesn't mean they just like the character for their looks.

Lapis was used over and over again. First she was put in the mirror and used that way, then by Peridot and Jasper as a source of information, then by Jasper in a fusion. She never even wanted to be part of a war, she got caught up in one and it took thousands of years to escape.

Jasper was abusive and it's implied/can be assumed she was physical with Lapis on the ship (if anybody wants I can go into detail on this). Lapis had one chance to save Steven. She didn't want to be used again and she snapped back. Jasper was fully ready to use her, Lapis was reacting in a fight/flight mode. Sure she WAS by the ocean but could she really summon the water before Jasper hurt/shattered her and went after Steven? In a life or death situation you don't think logically. Her first instinct wasn't even to fight, she tries to run and Jasper grabs her. Maybe there were other solutions but it mainly feels like victim blaming. Jasper was ready to use Lapis for power and Lapis knew this. Lapis very much just reacted. Why does she have to be a perfect victim to Jasper's force/abuse? Why do people forget how logic can fly out the door in a life or death scenario? Sure she could have done things differently but SU writes her realistically, people being abused don't always make the prettiest choices.

Once Lapis got to Earth, she had a day before another gem who used her (Peridot) started to try to be her friend. She just wasn't ready for that. Peridot sorry might have felt genuine from Peridot's POV but to Lapis it just sounded like "sorry I used you but you were just really useful lol". Apologies with a "but" often feel so half hearted and like the situation was actually just the receivers fault. Of course, Lapis shouldn't have yelled or broke the tape recorder but she had tried to just say no earlier. She didn't go straight to yelling like people act like she did. She was pushed past a point and snapped. Both gems in this episode could have handled it better.

Putting that aside, they become great friends later and are close!! However there's only about a year between this and her finding out the diamonds were aware of Earth. She didn't have time to heal in that year- no human would and a year is almost nothing to gems. She wanted to keep Peridot safe, that's why she tried to take Peridot with her. Even though Peridot wanted to stay, Lapis was too scared to. She snapped at Peridot because she was scared for herself and Peridot. Peridot was era 2, she would have never known the war like Lapis did. Of course, yelling and taking the barn wasn't the right thing but it is not black and white. Judging based off future and the end of S5, they talked and Lapis most likely apologized.

Lapis did do things wrong but she still isn't a bad person. The fandom seems to think someone has to be perfect to be a good person but the truth is noone is perfect.

She could've done things differently and she could've done the "right" thing several times but she grew and changed after her choices. She came back to help defend Earth- she came back to Peridot. I wish people didn't just hate her to make another character look better. Lapis is a good person who was used over and over again, of course she had some flaws. But at the end of the day what matters is the nuance of the situation.

I will always defend Lapis because people never take more than 5 seconds to understand her. Black and white thinking is far to common especially in this fandom.

[sauceytwinkietwinkling]

🤍🖤☔️Rainy Romances☔️🤍🖤

Ugatha Rosenhein x Prof. Puzzles (OC x Canon)

Okay, so finally got around to making a fanfic. I haven’t made a fanfic in a HOT minute, so apologies if my writing is shitty lmaoo.

I got the idea bc it’s really rainy where I’m at, so why not write a fanfic between the two most hated professors in a relationship at GMOD University?

I hope y’all like this. This was also inspired by @frantic-drawer’s fanfic, so I’m using that for reference!

if you don’t like OC x Canon, I recommend that you scroll away.

some characters mentioned belong to @frantic-drawer, who owns NOVA, and @runrabitrunrunrun who owns Nicknack! Go check them out, they’re awesome!

btw, just so there’s no confusion, I’m going to be using @jovialoddity’s human puzzles! Creds to them btw for his human design, as it is not mine.

Now onto the fanfic!!

__________________

Rainy days. Of course it was a rainy day.

Not that Professor Puzzles hated them, he just never really liked how dreary it looked…nor did he like getting wet.

But luckily for him, he could stay inside his home, and unfortunately grade his students sloppy work. Kind of a take-back, but it was better than getting soaked in that horrible weather. At least he was staying dry.

As Puzzles typed away on his computer, he heard his phone buzz beside him. Finally, an opportunity to have a small break from grading. He picked it up, and saw it was a text message.

From his beloved Ugatha.

Puzzles could feel himself smiling already. He knew Ugatha usually slept in when she had a day off, so he was happy to know he could finally talk to her. It was 2:00 in the afternoon after all, and he had been waiting patiently…or at least tried to.

Ugatha 💕: “Hey, what are you up to?”

He typed back,

“Nothing of interest, really. Grading my students work, that is. Not very fun if you ask me. The only good work I’ve had so far is from NOVA and Nicknack.”

Ugatha 💕: “Haha. Who knows, you might have better luck! You can do this, hon.”

“You can do this.”

The words of encouragement he always heard, but he loved to hear from her. Sometimes, he even questioned if he deserved this angel of a woman.

He smiled, before typing,

“Thank you, love. I really do need that.”

Ugatha send a “❤️”. He sent a heart back. Just when he thought she was done, Ugatha sent,

Ugatha 💕: “I just realized it was raining outside, I don’t know how I didn’t notice before, lol”

Puzzles chuckled a bit at that, before he replied,

”Yeah, it is pretty bad outside.”

Ugatha 💕: “Do you think it’s good enough to run around in?”

Puzzles paused at that. Was it safe to go out in. To him, it was a big fat no.

“You can try, but I’m not finding out for you. Be my guest.”

Ugatha 💕: “Alright. Well, I’ll talk to you later, hon. I have an experiment to do.”

Puzzles looked at the message with his crooked eyebrow raised. Experiment? She made it sound like something a mad scientist would say. Oh well, that was Ugatha. Always coming up with ideas.

As he looked away from his phone, he then remembered what he was originally doing before he got distracted. He let out a dreadful sigh, rubbing his temples. He hated this job, but he had to do what he had to do.

He went on, a cycle of doing a double take at some questionable scripts, messily written pitches, and just the overall hellhole of lazy work done by his students. How he wished he could just throw them into a room with Michael Myers…

But, something outside caught his eye that interrupted his little internal moping. He paused in his work, and stood up, walking over to the window to get a better look at what he was seeing.

It was Ugatha. Out in the rain. Dancing and spinning around like a carefree child.

Puzzles was a little bewildered at the sight, but soon his silent, neutral stare turned into a little smile, along with a chuckle escaping his lips.

But then he stopped when he realized something.

She wasn’t even wearing a coat.

All she was wearing was a sweater, a long skirt, and her ballet flats.

Puzzles panicked a little. Ugatha could get a cold, or maybe even frostbite! He hesitated for a moment. He didn’t like the rain, and he also didn’t to get his new clothes wet.

But it was Ugatha he was worried about.

Without another thought, he dashed over to the door, and just snatched a coat from a rack, not even getting himself one. He practically flung the door open, and ran out. He grimaced a bit feeling the rain soak his hair and his skin, but that didn’t matter right now. He’d fuss later.

He quickly ran over to Ugatha, and frantically spoke,

“Ugatha, what on Earth do you think you’re doing out in this dreadful weather?! Y-You could get sick out here—hell, you could get struck by lightning!”

Ugatha just looked at him, a little surprised to see him here, but she huffed a bit. Her voice raised, but no real anger or any signs of agitation in her tone, she replied,

“Well I’m completely fine for your information, and secondly, you’re one to talk! You don’t have a coat either!”

Puzzles sighed. He hated, and adored her stubbornness. Then again, he could be stubborn too. More than her.

“Well, that doesn’t matter. You’ve been out here a little longer than I have, so there.”

He draped the coat around her shoulders, cuing Ugatha to put it on.

Puzzles just stared at her for a minute. Her soft, fluffy hair was wet and sticking to her face, neck, and clothes. Her clothes were soaked. Nonetheless, she looked unbothered and rather calm. He couldn’t help but think despite her state, she looked beautiful…well, she looked beautiful all the time.

Her voice was beautiful.

Her personality was beautiful.

Everything about her was breathtaking.

Ugatha’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“What is it?”

She seemed to have noticed him staring at her. He looked at her, before fixing some of his now wet hair out of his eyes.

“…Nothing, love…you..you look pretty like this.”

This made Ugatha let out a giggle. She held one of his hands, her small fingers and his long fingers intertwining.

“What, is this the part where you tell me your undying devotion for me, and then we kiss like in the books?”

Ugatha teased, playfully nudging his shoulder. Puzzles grinned, letting out a small laugh.

“Well, perhaps that is what happens.”

He cupped her face so delicately, his thumb caressing her cheek, which was showered in raindrops. He leaned in, looking into her eyes.

“…I love you, you crazy woman.”

Just before Ugatha could shoot a teasing reply back, he had already pulled her into a kiss, his hands in her hair, Ugatha wrapping her arms around his neck.

Those two had not a care in the world that they were embedded in the cold, wet weather. For now, they forgot about their worries and stresses, and kissed in the rain, soaking each other in.

♡♡♡

[myarmsaretoolong]

january recs

gunna try to do one of these each month with good stuff ive read recently! this month'll be more than just january as its the first =D (below the cut cos its really quite long)

Just this once by Beleriandings

(Everybody lives.) (Or: when a certain Doctor arrives to save Owen Harper from a stricken nuclear power station, it begins a chain of events that will lead Torchwood Three down a very different path. From time locks and telepathy to tea and coffee, high-speed chases to unresolved sibling issues, their new lives (and new and old loves) may be different, but their bonds of friendship and family grow stronger every day. But when every child on earth starts speaking with one voice, the team are torn apart again as they’re forced to fight for their lives, and to confront monsters they’d thought they’d left behind in the past. But with all of them working together – along with some allies they’ve made along the way – Torchwood Three will stop at nothing to save their friends and set the world to rights. The consequences will ripple out across the universe and into the distant future. But they have to start somewhere, and the present is as good a place as any.)

this fic is pure brilliance!! i was screaming in the comments on multiple occasions. the characterisations are so fun and fit right along the series. overall just great!

you'll fit so nicely, you'll keep me intact by thirteeninafez

The woman walked away with one last brilliant, world-stopping smile, and Tosh let out a long sigh. She looked down at the name and number scribbled onto the paper. The thing was, in that one moment, Tosh could see herself falling entirely in love with the glowing, wonderful Lois. Or, the one where Tosh not only lives past Exit Wounds, but flourishes.

i loooved this one! tosh is still alive by the time children of earth rolls around and she and lois fall in love in the sweetest way <3

here is the deepest secret nobody knows by blackkat

Ianto closes his eyes in Thames House, lungs full of choking alien gas, and opens them in his sister's house in Cardiff.

we all need a good bit of fix it in this fandom, and this is a great one

The Zagrith's Claw by AVAAntares

Changing fate always demands a price -- and sometimes, the cure can be worse than the disease.

good bit of a case fic here, nice characterisations going on

Aftershocks by SqutternutBosh

The first episode of yet another alternate season 3! Follows on from Exit Wounds but imagines Tosh and Owen narrowly escaped their fates. Torchwood are picking up the pieces and dealing with the consequences of Gray's attack on the city when a series of time slips start to appear across Cardiff...

the brilliant first part in a brilliant series that rewrites series three in the style of the first two with the whole torchcrew along for the ride. (im not gunna put each individual fic here for the sake of brevity but take this a rec for them all, serious they're fantastic!)

it's all been done before by girlsaturday

- @girlsaturday

Tosh gets trapped in a time loop. It just might end up being a good thing.

beloved time loop fic <3 great read!

Bad In Your Blood by CaptainFairyGodmother

- @captainfairygodmother

There were only two constants in life at Torchwood; one, that it was almost a certainty that you would not make it to see your first pension payment; and two, that Ianto Jones and Owen Harper would be arguing. At least one of the constants was preventable- and it certainly was not the arguing. OR; Ianto and Owen are brothers AU, in which Owen's refusal to acknowledge Ianto as his brother- let alone form a familial relationship with him- may just lead to the death of the whole team.

amazing concept with amazing execution

The Many Returns of Ianto Jones by bluetrees

@b1uetrees

The first time can be discounted as a fluke, a wonder of genetics. The second as plausible deniability. The third as a pattern, and a problem. Every other time, as a curse. Ianto Jones died a long time ago. So why did Jack keep running into him?

fair to call this a masterpiece

Because It's All About Him by nigohyu

Jack Harkness and Martha Jones meet sporadically over the years. Exhausted, they try not to talk about the Doctor, but the scars are always there. "He’s a drug, a damn addictive drug."

a bittersweet and much needed conversation

To The Sticking Place by zephyras13

The end justifies the means. Failure is not an option. There is always a choice, except when there isn't. These are the phrases Ianto Jones lives by and he refuses to allow anyone, even Captain Jack Harkness, to change that. Jack/Ianto, AU, Torchwood One Agent!Ianto.

a very different take on ianto and so so fun to read!

cravings by leere

(or, how to have a love life when you're a zombie)

owandy <3 enough said <3

and of course go and check out the pinned masterlist on @torchwoodfanweek for loads more fantastic stuff to read!

[mommyslittlebird]

A Superhero Like You

Mommy!Wanda x Little!Reader

After a weekend trip with your friends takes a turn for the worse, you have to explain to Wanda why you broke the rules.

CW: hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol and drug use, substance mixing, bad drug reactions, mentions of punishment, spanking. No explicit smut but still 18+.  All characters are over the age of 18.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: My trip this weekend went fine, idk what you’re talking about 👀.

You were in trouble. Big trouble, if Wanda’s stern, displeased look was any indicator.

You’d spent the weekend on a small cabin vacation away with your friends; your older friends. Not as old as Wanda, of course, who was easily a decade older than you, but friends that were 2-5 years older than you. Just old enough to make you feel cool for getting invited to hang out with them. 

The cabin you were staying in was nearly two hours away, not to mention in the middle of the woods with shoddy cell service. Wanda didn’t like the idea at all, but after plenty of conversation, and establishing several rules, she’d reluctantly agreed to let you go. 

You’d promised you wouldn’t drink any alcohol (even though you were 21), nor any drinks you didn’t make yourself. You promised to call her every night, and text her throughout the day with updates. And, most importantly, you promised to call her to come get you if anything made you feel uncomfortable.

By 9pm the first night, you knew coming was a bad idea.You should’ve called Wanda then and there, admitted your mistake, and let her take you home where you’d be safe with her, but you hadn’t. 

Instead you’d waited until things got so bad, the party was busted by the cops, and Wanda had to pick you up from the police station. 

And that’s how you ended up here, with a very upset Wanda looking down at you while you cowered on the sofa. “Would you like to tell me what happened, little girl?”

“I’m sorry,” you cried, tears already falling from your eyes. You hated this feeling; Wanda’s disappointment after you’d done a bad thing. You always tried so hard to be good. Slip ups were honestly pretty rare, but you had never ever done anything to mess up this bad. You didn’t know how Wanda was going to react. 

“You’ve said you’re sorry. Now I need you to tell me what happened,” she scolded, her tone still harsh and unforgiving. “Or I can take you upstairs right now and we can just skip straight to your punishment.”

You swallowed, wrapping your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt at comfort. “Do I still get hugs and cuddles after my spanking?” you asked. You always did get comfort after your punishments, but you needed the extra reassurance that this would be no different, even tonight.

Wanda finally softened slightly, crouching in front of your trembling body. She was upset, but she could still see that you were scared and in desperate need of comfort right now. Regardless of what you’d done, she was always going to take care of you when you needed her. “Of course, detka. After your punishment all is forgiven. But mommy really needs to know exactly what happened first, okay? So I can know what kind of punishment you need. Does that make sense, malyshka?” You nodded weakly. “Is there anything I can get you right now that might help you tell mommy what happened?”

You thought for a second. Cuddling or any intimacy with her would just make you feel more guilty. You didn’t feel like you deserved it right now. “Maybe a blanket?” you requested. “And maybe Thomas too.” You added at the last second. Thomas was a little stuffed triceratops, your favorite stuffed animal.  

Wanda nodded. “Do you want your dinosaur blanket or a different one?” 

“Dinosaurs please.”

“Okay detka, you stay right here and I’ll be back in just a minute.”

You nodded, curling up against yourself as you heard her head up the stairs. Just a moment later you felt the soft fabric of your blanket on your shoulders, and the stuffed dinosaur pressed into your lap. You hugged the plush animal into your chest, rubbing your face against its head. “Thank you, mommy,” you said, muffled by the dinosaur. 

“Of course honey,” she said, sitting down cross legged in front of you. She tried to put her hand on your leg, but you shied away. “Do you need another minute or are you ready?”

You slowly lifted your head, feeling much more comfortable now with your favorite things. “I’m ready.”

She nodded. 

You took a deep breath and then started. “We were having a lot of fun at the beginning. We were being silly in the hot tub, and it was really pretty outside, and everybody had already started drinking but they were just being a little goofy. Then when we went inside and dried off, one of the girls I didn't know so well started talking about drugs. Nothing too bad, just some Xanax, maybe Ambien, a couple things I didn’t know about. But I started to get that bad tummy feeling, so I went on a little walk, just like we talked about. It was really pretty out there mommy. You would’ve loved to see all the cool plants and rocks I found. And the sunset was so pretty.”

She noticed you getting a little off topic, likely avoiding something you didn’t want to talk about. She attempted a gentle redirect. “I’m sure they were beautiful, detka. I’d love to hear all about them later. What happened when you got back to the cabin?”

You went quiet for a second, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You started crying again, darting your eyes around the room to avoid looking at Wanda. “It wasn’t the same when I got back. My bad tummy feeling got really big. They weren’t just being goofy anymore. They didn’t look right, like their faces looked all dizzy and they weren’t acting right either. They couldn’t really walk right and I tried talking to them but I couldn’t understand them at all.” You paused for a few seconds. “I was so scared.”

She tilted her head and cupped your cheek, making you look at her. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you call me? We talked about this, I would’ve come to get you. You promised you would call if anything like that happened. Mommy just wants you to be safe, but I can’t always keep you safe if you don’t follow the rules.”

Your bottom lip trembled. You felt terrible. You’d been so stupid thinking you could handle something like this alone. “I wanted to be a superhero like you, mommy! My friends were in danger and I wanted to be brave and save them like you do! But I’m not like you and I didn’t know what to do and I messed it all up and got everybody in trouble!”

“Oh detka.” She jumped onto the couch and wrapped her arms around you. You struggled against her for a minute, but she held you tight, gently running her hands through your hair. 

“Everybody was getting so sick and I didn’t know what to do, and then I found Kate passed out…” you cried. The words left your body like water through a busted dam. Kate was your best friend, the one who invited you to the party to begin with. “I got so scared I panicked and called 911 and came and took us all away.”

“Honey, I know that must’ve been so scary to see all your friends like that,” Wanda soothed.

“It was the scariest I’ve ever been in my whole life!” you cried.

“I know malyshka. But it sounds like you did everything right. I wish you would’ve called me, but you did everything you were supposed to do in that situation. Even though it was really scary, you were so brave. You made sure everyone was safe and you saved the day.”

You shook your head. “No I didn't, I got everyone in trouble! They were so mad at me, mommy. I messed it all up so bad.”

 “You didn’t mess anything up. They got themselves in trouble. I’m sorry they couldn’t see that, detka.”She positioned you on her lap and rocked you gently against her chest, shushing the sobs that tore through you. It was several minutes before you spoke again.

“Can we go ahead and do my spanking and then we can cuddle again when I’m all forgiven?” You asked. You needed so desperately to be relieved of your guilt and to know Wanda wasn’t mad at you anymore.

“No spankings for you tonight, sweet girl,” She soothed. 

Your heart sunk. You didn’t think you could sleep a wink until your punishment was over and you were forgiven. “No, please! I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore! I can’t wait for tomorrow to be forgiven, please!”

“There’s no spankings tomorrow either, detka. You don’t need to be punished. You’re already forgiven sweetheart,” she reassured.

You frowned, leaning back to look at Wanda. “I don’t understand. You were so mad.”

Wanda nodded regretfully. “I’m sorry I was being so cold when I picked you up, detka. When I got that call for the police, I was so scared something bad happened to my sweet girl. All I knew was that you got in trouble with the police and I assumed you did something bad before I even heard the whole story. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were a very brave girl. I’m sorry I got you worked up about a punishment before I even knew you needed one.”

You paused cuddling back into her chest. She tucked your head under her chin. “Are you sure you’re not still mad at me?” 

Wanda shook her head. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Not even a little bit.”

You shifted uncomfortably in her lap. You believed Wanda, but you were still swirling with guilt. Maybe she had forgiven you, but you hadn’t forgiven you. “Maybe I can have a really little spanking? Just a small one before bed.”

Wanda sighed in resignation. She wished she hadn’t gotten so upset with you. It broke her heart to see that you were still so mad at yourself after you’d done something so brave. “If it’ll make you feel better, we can do that, malyshka. But you have to promise to forgive yourself afterwards. You know the rules: after your punishment all is forgiven.”

“I promise,” you swore, wrapping your pinky around hers. 

“That’s my good girl. Now go take your blanket and Thomas upstairs and get ready for me. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

—----

It was truly less than five minutes before Wanda came up to find you sitting naked on the edge of the bed, your blanket wrapped around your shoulder while you anxiously played with the fabric spines along Thomas’ back. 

She sat down next to you, guiding you over her lap. She knew it made you more comfortable to be so close even when you were being punished. “I’m gonna give you 10 my hand, okay? I want you to count out loud for me. You can hold Thomas if you’d like.”

“Yes, mommy,” you said, grabbing the stuffed animal and pulling him under your chest. 

You obediently counted each smack. They were hard enough to hurt, but not so hard you would feel them tomorrow. You started crying around number three, more out of emotional relief than physical pain. Wanda rubbed your now bare back, but didn’t stop. 

The whole ordeal only lasted about two minutes, but she let you cry in her lap for about ten more. “Shh detka. You did so well. It’s all over honey. All is forgiven. Mommy’s not mad at you.” She cooed repeatedly. 

When you finally got your voice back, you whispered “thank you, mommy. I feel better now.”

She tucked you into bed with Thomas, leaving the room to quickly grab some cream. By the time she got back you were already half asleep. She smiled as she watched you rub your face against the soft pillows. She applied the cream before crawling into bed next to you and allowing you to snuggle back into her chest.

“You wanna know a secret?” she whispered. 

“What?” you mumbled sleepily. 

“I think you might be the bravest girl in the whole world. You’re my superhero.”

[fadedpath]

puts on my Friedrich apologist hat. so i have some things to say about how i'm going to write this character since he's a seemingly polarizing figure from what i can gather online ( and it isn't for his last scene lol which is another conversation entirely about gothic horror / romance tropes, being foreshadowing and a contrast to another end scene etc. etc. ). i don't think he's a bad person for a variety of different reasons, but that also doesn't mean i think he's a good person. there's ✨ nuance ✨

one thing before i explain, the audience has the power to judge him somewhat unfairly due to one key point: the POV of the movie is 99% Ellen's. we see what she sees, we know what she knows. we have that privilege to see for ourselves the horror inflicted upon her and most of all believe right at the very opening scene of the movie. ( tbh if Friedrich was more of an asshole that people say he is, he would have kicked Ellen out the moment the fits start happening and it probably would've saved his family, but i digress ghkjshgjks )

so imo Friedrich, for the time period he is in, is pretty morally average for his kind of character ( grew up in generational wealth, successful business man, etc. ). there's nothing surprising with how he acts. the first we meet him ( which is usually the thesis for characterization ), we get an idea of who he is: he loves his wife and is proud of his family, and he holds a sense of duty towards his friends. i want to point that out because some people claim he is only helping the Hutters due to some desire to self-aggrandize himself, but i don't think that's it. one of the first lines to Thomas is the man promising to pay back the loan Friedrich gave to him to help him along, to which Friedrich brushes it off, uncaring of being paid back. but the scene in which people think he's self-aggrandizing is when he points out it's at his expense that the Hutters are given a ride home after he kicked them out due to his wife now being afflicted, but i don't think he is still! i think he's bringing up all that he did for her in the sense of "i did my duty to your and yours but now it's affecting the one i love most, so you don't get to act this way towards me after all i did for you" type of mindset. was he wrong to brush off Ellen trying to warn him? yeah, but also you gotta think: it'd be really weird if he just immediately started believing her. Thomas only believed Ellen when he saw Orlok for himself. Anna, i don't think, believed her wholly but more so was simply trying to help out of love. Friedrich never sees Orlok, he only sees the very real plague that's happening to very real people that he can see for himself, who are dying ( and now his wife has it so!! ).

at the end of the day, he's the typical conventional dude of his era and is put into an incredibly unconventional situation, one that calls too much into question that he can handle at that point in the movie, and instead of opening himself up to it, he digs his heels in and stubbornly refuses to entertain it because he has bigger problems to deal with ( in his mind ). we, the audience, think he's a pig-headed fool who doesn't know any better because we see him through Ellen. but in his shoes, he sees this lady coming into his house, disrupting his family's peace, and wants her out.

long story short, Friedrich is ruled by the narrative, he cannot escape the bounds that holds him in place within it, and that's the tragedy of his character. that he realized too late, and once he did finally realize, he was past the point of no return. grieving as he was, there was no living after his entire family was annihilated. ( to which i think there is a lot of guilt in him for that, which spurs his grieving tenfold, since he didn't wake up when his family was getting snacked on, see "i will never sleep again" as he's crying on a coffin, but that's for another post hgkjdsg )