#so at that point it would just be a huge lie of omission

[spiralgender44]

listen I wasn't going to make any posts on the whole ls dunes double fiasco this week and I still kind of am not because I'm not about to step into the middle of this shit show of a debate. but truly I think plugging the merch instead of having a tucker thursday this week was the absolute smartest thing they could have done here because literally anything else would have made this crisis SERIOUSLY worse so. Congratulations dunes on your single correct decision here lol

[oshinohoshi]

Oshi no Ko - In defense of Ai's "lies"

Warning: Manga spoilers below.

This post is a reaction to people occasionally saying, "Maybe Ai was the real villain all along" or "But Ai lies" as evidence of her character being sucky. And just... come on. I know, dear reader, that you understand how silly that is but I'm gonna spell it out anyway.

I always want to say in response: "Who did Ai hurt with her lies?" There is one character you may be thinking of and I'll get to that, but the person she hurt the most was herself. Because she told herself nonsense about how she was an irresponsible, dirty liar.

This breaks my fragile heart because this, right here, is the lie. Her negative self-talk stemming from a childhood filled with abuse and loneliness framed her issues with understanding love as if it were her fault and not, I dunno, the woman who fed her glass (see 45510) and abandoned her.

What were Ai's lies? Should they even be classified as such? Let's break it down:

She hid her kids. I would hardly call this a lie so much as a totally normal boundary for a celebrity with a public and private life. It only mattered because of the absurd standards for idols. It was more of a lie by omission anyway, but if someone asked her point blank if she had kids (maybe after one too many times nearly mentioning her kids lol) it would be perfectly acceptable to say no.

She put on a happy face at all times, hiding her emotions. This primarily hurt herself because it increased her social isolation and caused the girls in B Komachi to view her as untouchable and inhuman. Nino wouldn't have been so hurt by their fight if Ai better knew how to express herself, or maybe even if she had shown that she cared by yelling back, but that's a lot to expect from someone with Ai's background and lack of experience with relationships.

There's also Ai's neurodivergence. I don't want to speculate too much about that as I am not hugely familiar with the topic besides what I've learned by googling, but it can cause difficulty with social situations and expressing emotions. Sounds pretty familiar.

We are told in ch 137: "She could neither love nor trust people. She was timid and sensitive. She got hurt after being at odds with her friends. She really was an ordinary girl you could find anywhere. That's why she lied. A big lie that concealed her weak self completely."

Another description for this is a defense mechanism. Ai was not raised in an environment where vulnerability was met with reassurances. Moreover, as an idol it was hammered into her that she needed to hide anything about herself that could be deemed as negative or ugly. Anything that made her human. Ichigo told her at age 12 to lie until she understood love. She was set up from the get go to consider herself nothing but a liar.

She lied to Hikaru when she said, "I can't love you." This is actually not a big lie so much as the most negative take on her emotions. She wasn't sure she could love him but she wanted to. The real untruth is the way she flippantly strolled out the door as if she didn't care about him. But that doesn't make her a villain and her reasons are obvious given everything told to us about her in ch 137 and her avoidant tendencies she used as a shield to protect herself. She handled the breakup with all the grace of an elephant wearing ice skates but I'm not about to blame her for it.

She lied about love. I saved the big one for last. The thing her characterization hinges on. But it was hardly a lie at all. Not only because she actually did love her kids or that she was trying so hard to love which was its own form of love ("lies are love"), but because the idea of having to love her fans in a personal manner that goes beyond appreciation is actually ridiculous.

Nobody expects an office worker to love their clients or someone working at Starbucks to love their customers. But as an idol she was marketed as a perfect, pure girl, someone men could project their fantasies onto and who was supposed to genuinely love each and every one of them in return. It's nonsense. Ai was certainly not the only idol failing to live up to this. She just took it incredibly hard because she felt her lack of understanding of love was a personal failing.

We are told that Ai was a liar but she was honest as often as she hid the truth. She asked Gotanda to film the real her after he called her out about putting on an act. She was candid in the fan Q&A in 45110. In Viewpoint B she wrote a song that expressed her genuine feelings. She adored her kids so much that she slipped up and nearly talked about them on camera. Ai wanted to share how they had impacted her life but couldn't except through veiled statements. She was completely honest with Ryosuke, treating the moment as if she was in a confessional detailing her sins.

None of this is to say Ai was perfect. We're bonked over the head with the fact that Ai was a regular person who could get angry, who was too timid to push herself to connect with her fellow members of B Komachi, who undoubtedly did and said things that did not reflect her best self just as we all do. But I don't think liar is her defining trait. It's probably not even in her top five. I would describe her as sensitive, loving, mischievous, playful, and intelligent (she could be airheaded but she was incredibly savvy about her image) before I'd call her a liar.

There is no Real Villain Ai. And I can't tell you how glad I am that the theory some people held about her forcing sex on Hikaru was thoroughly debunked. Right up there with people speculating that Crow Girl is actually reincarnated Ai. That just made me laugh. The last thing reincarnated Ai would do is jerk her kids around.

We're told Ai was a liar because that's how she viewed herself. It's not an objective fact or at least not a fact that trumps everything else about her. So the next time someone says "Ai was a liar" my response would be "OK. So what?"

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

Mor is “Lying by Omission” and not Nesta when she lies to those men she was sleeping around with about her virginity? Nesta stans and y’all constant contradictions and stupid talking points

alright — you only come up with a response like this if you’ve fundamentally misunderstood what the problem is here.

(1) i think its an argument that can absolutely be made -- and considering sjm's writing history, i think we can at least draw parallels. i don't know you sent this as a gotcha -- the whole point im making is that writing that does into these characters is a consequence of sjm not writing them with care. that means that all of the characters fall consequence to the shitty writing. if you believe so -- then sure, make the argument. the problem is that the issues outside of the characters are being exploited. i really do dislike the the theme in her stories of people withholding pivitol pieces of information from people under the guise of love.

(2) the situation you're referencing isn't quite the same thing. not for the argument i was making, at least. first cassian immediately stops having sex with mor when he realizes what happened -- that in itself displays the difference between these two situation.

nesta doesn’t owe her sexual partners a summary of her sexual history. she’s just having a one night stand. second, the circumstances around nesta having sex aren’t being altered. the fear is centered around cassian finding out -- which means nothing because as of that point in the story, nesta has vehemently expressed no interest in cassian. nesta isn’t lying about being engaged to cassian, she isn’t specifically having sex with someone with the intent to accomplish something else. but in theory, if you wanted to make the argument, there’s definitely room to make it. morrigan specifically chooses cassian bc she wanted to lie down with "the greatest" which definitely a conversation for another day. she does choose him though -- to make a point to her family. which IS complex and NOT bad writing inherently. does mor owe cass a summary about her sexual history? - no. the problem isn't the virginity, its the lying. inherently the virginity thing isn't bad; but the story goes to great lengths to reiterate that this situation specifically enormous. AGAIN cassian IMMEDIATELY stops having sex with mor once he realizes she lied. he immediately recognizes the problem. he would not have even had sex with had he known the reality of the situation:

he’d done it, and regretted it at that very first thrust, when he’d felt her maidenhead yield to him, and realized the enormity of what she’d done

(3) the point isn’t that mor isn’t a victim, or that her situation isn’t worthy of empathy. the problem at hand a purely a writing problem. that’s really the point. the situation is (at the very least) complex. morrigan situation is complex and of intrigue. the problem is that the writing doesn't hold these issues to be dear enough to write with care.

(4) morrigan is badly written because she is constantly thrown away and minimized by the writing. huge swathes of people literally left the fandom because of how badly conceptualized more became after acomaf (subjective ofc - but this has been an issue in the fandom since the release of acowar).

(5) i just want the issues to properly acknowledged, i don't quite care about the feelings for the characters, i just think that sometimes people should take a step back and understand the concepts behind the characters. esp bc earlier in that thread people were literally justifying tamlin's abuse of lucien bc they argued that his actions during his abuse negated any ideas of victimhood, and that feyre is allowed to get her 'deserts' by having tamlin beat the hell out of lucien. like the argument being presented wasn't consistent and it just fell into abuse apologism. which is...definitely not conscious, thoughtful scholarship.

[doctorbrown]

Rate your muse's traits from 1 to 10

Compassion: 8/10

Bitterness: 2/10 [Doc is not normally bitter about things, and if he is, he typically gets over it fairly quickly or seeks to resolve whatever landed him in the position of feeling that way in the first place if possible.]

Happiness: 9/10 [Especially post-pt.3 when he's got his family back in '85 with him. Doc's always been a positive guy with a great outlook on life. His darker moments/periods have come and went and by the time he's reached his sixties especially, he's just thriving and living his best life.]

Politeness: 4/10 [He can be polite when it calls for it but he'll also dispense with the politeness, especially when it's clearly forced, just as easily at this point in his life. He'll find a way to work some of his sass in there always.]

Chivalry: 7/10 [Doc's a chivalrous guy, he's of that time, never grown out of it, and it just feels right to him.]

Pride: 10/10 [Doc's extremely prideful, but not in a detrimental way. He's confident enough in his abilities and his intelligence and he's always so proud of his inventions when he creates them and is eager to show them off to his family or to Marty.]

Honesty: 7/10 [Doc is mostly honest, as he understands the value in being so in most cases. HOWEVER, that isn't to say that Doc isn't also comfortable with lying, for example regarding the nature of his experiments, his accomplishments, lying by omission regarding his past, lying about the business he created as a front for his experiments, insurance fraud, you name it. He'll lie as a means to an end but this is in situations where he believes that through his lies, he's doing more good in the end than harm. (See: terrorists and acquisition of plutonium.)]

Bravery: 10/10 [Doc will put himself in harm's way for his loved ones without hesitation, he's afraid of heights yet still scaled the Clock Tower to fix the cable to get Marty home, he put himself in danger for Clara's sake, the list goes on. Doc's an incredibly brave man.]

Recklessness: 5/10 [Reckless in the name of scientific pursuits, but also a member of the Fuck Around and Find Out Club on occasion. But this is tricky, because yes, Doc can indeed be reckless, but he's not dangerous, as he always takes safety measures into account with his experiments. He's not truly reckless because he DOES think things through and consider the consequences of his actions (if he can foresee them) and usually attempts to have safety measures in place.]

Ambition: 10/10 [Ambition is the name of the thirty year long game. Everything Doc has done was ambitious, from his young acceptance into university, to his studying on his own to have the requisite knowledge for his experiments, to his completion of the time machine. He thrives off seeing things to completion through hard work and won't stop until he's hit a permanent wall or completed it.]

Loyalty: 10/10 [Doc's extremely loyal to the people he loves and there's no getting around that. He won't sell them out, he'd sooner take the brunt of whatever was coming upon himself to spare them. And even if he hides some things sometimes (knowledge in pt.3 of Marty's abysmal future and the cause of it) it's ultimately for his own good.]

Love: 9/10 [Doc's got a huge heart if you let him show you that and learn his particular way of expressing that love.]

Sense of family: 9/10 [First, the dogs. Then, before he even realises that's what is happening with Marty, he's already started to see the kid as part of his family, toeing the line between son and friend. This only grows exponentially during his nearly ten year stint in the Nineteenth Century when he adds Clara and his two boys to the family.]

Attractiveness: 5/10 [I would arguably put Doc at a much higher level than this personally but to most people, their immediate view of him is that he's homely, he's eccentric, he's not all that charming, so they miss all the things about him that do actually make him a rather attractive man.]

Agility: 7/10 [Doc'll throw you for a loop. He's in better shape than a man his age would ever be expected to be, he's faster than you expect, he can run longer than you'd think he can.]

Sex drive: 2/10 [To be changed accordingly once Clara comes into the picture.]

tagged by: @dynamoprotocol (thank you!!) tagging: you!!

[kibellah]

9, 14, 18, 20, 25 for raven heh 😈💖💗💖

sidestep ask game

naomi🫂🫶🏻

9. how honest are they?

ugh it’s 50/50.

raven does a lot of lying by omission (like being the villain named sidestep 😭😭). sprinkle some half-truths there, tiny little white lies there. offer to help so the evidence doesn't point to you....yes i'll def help find out who broke into argent's mind 😁👍🏻 <- the one who broke into argent's mind.

tbh raven thinks she's smarter than everyone 🧐 which, she has yet to be caught so maybe she's justified there! she's playing some weird 5d chess game with light yagami levels of thinking, meanwhile no one even really suspects she's the villain and in fact are angry on her behalf that the villain is using her vigilante name😤😤

BUT to raven’s credit, she’s honest when it comes to being vulnerable with those she cares about. she'll temporarily forget her huge ego, show some weakness, and really try to connect. she admitted to ortega she needed therapy and even went for him. she didn’t even directly lie to her therapist! (even tho she thought it was a waste of time and thinks she’s unfixable LMAO). she even admitted she’s a re-gene to daniel, which made her want to throw up, and raven almost immediately regretted it. but luckily for her, daniel was a supportive sweetie about it.

14. are they more daring or more cautious?

daring😈😈raven has a fate motivation/ believes everything that’s happening to her and everything she does is inevitable, so she uses that to hand wave any danger(and justify some of her more distasteful decisions🥴). like surely she wouldn’t be allowed to die before doing whatever it is fate has in store for her? (even if she wouldn't mind too much :/ )

18. what is their greatest fear?

that her becoming a villain wasn't inevitable and she could’ve made very different decisions once escaping the Farm again :/ if raven can’t justify her actions with "oh it was always going to turn out like this", then she actually has to face up to what she’s done. and who she’s done it to. raven wouldn’t be able to do that….she’s still struggling to reconcile the Rangers helping and protecting her at the end of retribution with her long held belief they wouldn't care about a re-gene. which, is basically her greatest fear coming true....the Rangers always would've helped her.

20. how do they feel about death?

it’s complicated lol.

fears it, because she’s not free yet. craves it, because it might be the only way she’ll ever be free

25. do they prefer to be alone or with other people?

raven would adamantly insist that she prefers to be alone, but all her actions would say otherwise! always visiting the Rangers HQ, agreeing to train herald (it’s because she’s trying to train the heroes to be better!! promise!! it’s not bc she’s desperate for some kind of human connection!!!), she’s friendly to her henchwoman, rosie, both as her villain self and her puppet, etc. 

raven’s trying really hard to feel like she belongs somewhere, instead of feeling like an outsider :/ but she still feels like she’s missing some vital component that would let her have a deep connection, not just a shallow one.

[clochanam]

[ braid ] sender braids receiver's hair "So," hands in her hair, fingers twisting idly at the strands; there was a time growing up where TK was an old hand at this, something that mum would let him do with his ever-restless hands while she needed to work late, which she often did. He ran a hand along Aisling's forehead, back of his thumbnail gliding just so to collect the loose strands of hair he'd missed the first time before setting to work, shooting her only one glance to meet her eyes before refocusing, "you spend a lot of time stressing what's up with your kids." And the diner, and TK's family, and the rest of the city, and the planet, and the universe. He wondered if - "You ever take any breaks?" Was she the sort of person that needed those? Not a values-based question. TK just didn't know, and he wanted to. (consider: cozy. by the heater. kids are in bed, tk's there late, moved out of his armchair to come join her a while ago. didn't even ask to braid her hair, he just started. conversation is full of fond and worry up until this point. they are safe and warm and good friends. 10/10)

she lies back against the cushions between them, twisting until she can settle comfortably and let @parameddic twine the locks together. there aren't many people who can peel back the covers like this. TK, over years of soup and car rides and an endless search for the city's best donuts, had achieved what most people would readily agree to be an impossible thing. even as his query develops and presents itself, she finds no part of herself that yearns a diversion, a lie, an omission that might shield them both from any ugliness that lurks in her past. instead, she remains very still, a rueful smile joining a wince as her silence speaks fairly loud volumes.

" i know i should. " a weak defence, if ever there were one. and one she finds herself cradling in a bid to develop it into something stronger. " i mean... i tell the others they need to rest, recover, go play games or go shopping or paint or whatever they need to do to destress. but i feel like, if i close my eyes, or go out to the spa, or let myself think about anything other than the kids, or the diner or the folks or... i guess i feel like if i'm not thinking about them, i'm going to miss something huge. you know? "

she still hasn't moved. she wouldn't disrupt TK's talents so nonchalantly, and frankly, it feels good to explain her mindset, however flawed it might be. a small moment passes, then she taps him on the knee with a light hand. " what about you? you take any breaks? "

[afurtivecake]

All the characters seem to brush it off, almost as if thinking, "I mean, who hasn't wanted to wring Kevin's neck at some point?" But it is significant!

Probably to most of the characters, Andrew choking Kevin doesn't seem all that out of place because it fits with their image of Andrew. But Neil finds it so unbelievable that he asks Matt if it really happened even though Andrew told him and he had already seen the bruises. Neil's the only one who gets that Andrew actually keeps tight control over his rage and that he pretty much only lets it slip in moments of justified retaliation. So for Andrew to turn on Kevin like that when Kevin had done nothing but lie by omission, it's a big deal.

Losing Neil was a huge blow to Andrew and he just loses it. I'm not saying choking Kevin is a rational thing for Andrew to have done. If he was in any more control of his emotions, or cared any less about Neil, he might have realized that Kevin isn't to blame or that Kevin would probably have told the truth at that point even without violence. But that's what surprises Neil so much- that Andrew would do something so irrational and insane when every other violent thing he has done up until that point has been rational (by Andrew's logic).

Even at his best, Andrew is still messed up, and at his worst he is very very messed up and completely capable of hurting people he cares about. (That's not a moral judgment on his character; that's just the reality of how people are.) That's a fact that any of the characters who care about Andrew know and have to find a way to be ok with. And this is going to sound callous, but I don't think there is an understandable reason for why it doesn't affect Kevin and Andrew's relationship more, nor does there have to be. It might just be how they are. Sort of like how Wymack accepts that Andrew is going to break into his apartment and steal his things and that his kids are going to do drugs and punch each other from time to time and create trouble for him to clean up. It doesn't make sense from an outsider perspective but it somehow does for them.

you can make the argument that not every single scene in a fictional work has to have a Point, and i would agree

however i can't think of many such scenes in aftg (maybe because it's in neil's pov)

and even then i just think that andrew choking kevin should be considered pretty significant

due to kevin's situation he was andrew's priority for most of the year

andrew patted him down to check for injuries

andrew punched matt for punching kevin, twice

andrew drugged neil because he didn't trust how neil looked at kevin

andrew did hurt kevin once previously, during trk when kevin shoved him into the lockers

the difference being:

this suggests kevin isn't worried that andrew will seriously hurt him (but also shoutout to matt for getting ready to interfere if a fight broke out :'D)

whereas post-choking we get this:

this suggests he thinks andrew would do it again or something in that vein

and yet apart from this it doesn't appear to change their relationship

do you see my problem

[avelera]

OFMD and the Sea as the Home of Runaways

So we don’t know when or why specifically that Ed went to sea in OFMD but I think as many fic writers have noted, it was probably linked to his “Kraken” killing of his father.

There’s a distinct possibility that Ed fled to sea that night. What would the alternative be, that he went home after? It’s certainly possible. There’s a possibility he lied to his mother actively or by omission when his father didn’t return home and only went to sea as a profession, completely unrelated, at some later point. There’s a possibility he didn’t lie and had to flee his mother’s recrimination. Honestly, there’s only a very narrow chance in my mind that he told the truth and was embraced for what he did by his mother and went to sea at some later point at his own pace.

But with regards to how Ed became a pirate, I personally think it’s more thematically resonant if he fled immediately after or was driven out immediately or soon after when his mother learned the truth. I come back to Olu’s point about how unlike Stede, most pirates are doing this job because they have to. Olu and Jim are runaways from Jackie’s wrath, for example. What Olu got wrong about Stede is that in a way, he didn’t have a “choice” either, he just had more privileges and wealth to cushion his flight to the sea. Because Stede is also a runaway, from his failed marriage and the soul-killing expectations of his upbringing.

I imagine if we delved into the past of the other crew members, we’d find more stories of runaways. It’s not a huge leap to imagine Lucius ran away to sea as the only place where he could love openly as he chose. It’s one reason he exhibits such sympathy for Stede, I believe, once he begins to understand more about who Stede is and what he was fleeing. Really, from a Doylist angle, it’ll be interesting to see if runaways as a theme is embraced for how and why pirates thematically exist in this universe and whether or not it links other crew members’ backstories.

Which brings me back to Ed. I think there would be thematic consistency and resonance if breaking the chains of his fathers abuse necessitated his flight to the sea. That he then proceeded to rise through the ranks on guts, brains, and raw talent is what makes his tale a triumph but with that seed of tragedy at its core that never went away. “Blackbeard” is a mask and a suit of armor.

We don’t have it confirmed yet, but I think a thematic link between Ed and Stede where both found the sea after fleeing a shattered home life of their own making could work. Of course, in each case it was done with varying degrees of violence (or perhaps not, Stede also in a way deprived his children of a father and his wife of a husband, depending on how much recrimination one wants to heap on him as compared to Ed depriving himself of a father and his mother of a husband, albeit one who “was a dick”). But as another meta commenter wrote very poignantly, there’s already a textual theme in the show that having trauma is such an inherent, expected part of being a pirate that it could be said that in the world of OFMD, to be a pirate is to have trauma. Perhaps, to be a pirate is also to be a runaway.

[treesandtheirberries]

Dad!Harry talks to his daughter about her questioning sexuality

A/N: might make this into a blurb series? so presh. if you have any concepts around this, send them my way. 

wc: 2,249

June was Harry and Y/N’s first baby, their biggest accomplishment before they were soon having another child. June was currently 13, the awkward age of Middle School, puberty, and overall questioning of identity. Y/N and Harry wanted this weird stage to be a smooth transition. They always encouraged her to express herself, with clothes, in hobbies, with their conversations. Although their first child, they both felt as though they managed to get through the difficulties of becoming a parent easily (thanks to the massive amount of parenting books, from birth to adolescence, that Harry kept buying while June was still in the womb). 

Yet, there is only so much you can prepare your child for, and surely you can’t be there to guide them through every difficulty. Harry and Y/N weren’t sure if June would question her sexuality as both of them weren’t straight, they didn’t know if the process was the same for heterosexuals. But they never skirted around the topic. If anything, they encouraged watching same-sex couples in movies and such, even having many friends who had families with someone of the same gender (or a partner that was non-binary). 

Harry hoped that this would be an excellent way to acclimate their children to the varying diversity of the world. Y/N grew up with racial diversity, but anything deviant from heterosexuality or cisgender was heavily frowned upon. They hoped that with their lack of omission of the varying aspects of identity their children would have the opportunity to understand themselves easier rather than constantly question their identity. 

They forgot to take into account that this was simply a stage in adolescence they had to endure though, as Eric Erickson put it: a fight between identity and role confusion. And June was currently right at the center of it.

June, even as a child, was usually calm and they rarely had problems with her being fussy like they do with the twins, Mazzy and Mick (named after the artists constantly playing on their home turntable). Thus, any changes were quickly noticed in her behavior. 

-------

Picking up the kids from daycare and June from school was on the top of Y/N’s list of things to do for the day. She adored seeing everyone’s faces after a day at work and seeing their warm smiles and tight hugs always brightened her mood. 

Today, things seemed different. 

June jumped into the front seat with a grunt, a frown, and even went as far as throwing her bag onto the floor of the car forcefully. This was generally out of character, except Y/N and Harry have noticed these bursts of anger more recently. 

“What’s eating at ‘ya bug?” Y/N calmly asked, wanting to maintain a balance of emotions although knowing June was perhaps all over the place as most teenagers are. 

June rubbed her hands on the top of her thighs and noticeably took a few deep breaths; a calming tactic her father taught her when she was younger to calm herself. She took a few more breaths until facing her mother to talk. “Sage didn’t want to hang out this weekend,” she finishes, the frown being found on her face once again.

“Oh, is she busy? Thought you two were having a sleepover at home?” Y/N inquired. She knew Sage and her daughter were best friends since the beginning of sixth grade, and she hoped they would maintain their friendship although she knew the ups and downs adolescents faced it might not be possible.

“She said she’s going to the mall with Rye.”

“As in the bread?” Y/N chuckled, trying to lift the mood.

June rolled her eyes, another behavior that has risen in frequency. “No mom. A boy. That she likes.” She grumbled crossing her arms and sinking further into the seat.

“Oooooh I see what’s going on here, Sage is going on a date!” She rose her voice to a pitch of puppy love, which didn’t sit well with June. 

“We promised we wouldn’t date boys in Middle School. They’re all so stupid and ugly. I don’t get why she’s ditching me for him.” 

Y/N was a bit surprised by this. Harry and she have talked about the day they’d have to worry about June’s infatuation with others and they were dreading it. Hearing that June didn’t have interest in it now was a relief, but of course, this whole conversation was concerning. 

“I understand, not the nicest to make plans with someone when she already made some with you. But June-bug, you guys are teenagers. Of course, she’s going to take an opportunity to go on a date with a freaking boy!”

“Language momma!” Mick yelled, the three-year-olds’ well acquainted with naughty words.

“I guess. Just rude s’all.” June finished with another grumble. She wasn’t known for throwing huge fits, and her outbursts were usually this short. 

Still, Y/N knew that this would be something that would affect her for the rest of the week. Her daughter is calm but incredibly sensitive, and the two parents have learned how to work through her internal struggles. She decided to ask the usual question during June’s turmoils: “wanna talk to dad about it?” 

“Yes please.”

--------

Harry was finishing washing the plates as Y/N was getting the twins ready for bed. The small domestic moments like these reminded Harry of how lucky he was to have a family like his. He noticed June’s mood as soon as everyone entered the house, and once Y/N confirmed they would need to talk later, Harry was preparing himself to support his daughter through her problems. Y/N and he were definitely lucky with their firstborn being like June. Sometimes he’ll credit his efforts in teaching June meditation early, and depending on the day, Y/N agrees. 

As he dries the plates to put back in their cupboards, June walks in. 

“Hiya bug. C’mere give Poppa hug.”

June rolls her eyes (he’s having a hard time adjusting to these teenager habits) and walks closer to her father. Although she’s extremely close with both of her parents, there is a timeless connection she has with her father. “Not a child anymore dad. And please, do not call yourself poppa again. You’re not that old yet.” She mumbled in his chest, clearly needing the affection.

“Mom said you wanted to talk? Want her there?”

“Uhm. Maybe we could just talk in my room please.” 

“Of course, let me just put these plates all back” Harry smiled, only letting go of the hug once he felt June move away. A small trick he learned from his mother after she attacked him with countless parenting trips: never let go in a hug with your child, let them determine when the hug is over. It gives them more comfort and stability in their lives and although he saw this as minimal, he understood its significance.

“I’ll help.”

----

As they walked to June’s room, they caught Y/N walking back from the twins’ room. “Hey baby, twins are done for. I’ll be in the room. “ She pecks Harry quick on the lips and turns to June to wrap her in a hug. “Love you cutie,” she winks at June as she goes to her room.

“Love you momma” June smiles, happy that she has a supportive family like this one. 

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Harry smiles, his arm going back to June’s shoulders, giving it a squeeze. 

Once they get to her room, both take a seat on June’s bed. Her back is on the headboard while Harry sits at the edge facing her, cross-legged. Every once in a while June would request to speak to Harry, Y/N,  or both of her parents on the issues bothering her. Harry and Y/N were proud of having a daughter that felt comfortable enough to communicate with her parents, and they always were looking for new ways to enrich themselves with the issues kids have a different ages. 

“Speak to me June, what’s on your mind lady?” Harry starts, initiating the push. He can tell that she’s struggling to bring her thoughts to words.

“Did you....well. How did you ... realize you didn’t like ... uhm, just girls?” She hesitantly asked, too flustered to look at her father on such a strange topic. 

Oh, it’s happening, Harry thought. “Well, I was pretty young, I guess around your age, and I realized that I just wasn’t fully straight. It developed from there I guess, I talked to a few friends about it, spoke to your grandma, and eventually met a boy I really liked. It was really scary, I’m not going to lie, figuring out my feelings at that point. After that, it wasn’t a big deal and everyone in the family understood. I just knew something like gender wasn’t a big deal to me, and if I liked someone I liked them. But it’s different for everyone. Your mom can tell you how she found out she’s bi.”

June was soaking in the information her father gave her. She knew both of her parents weren’t straight, but hearing how they found it out was something entirely different. It wasn’t that she was foreign to the concept, but in personal terms, it was utterly confusing. 

She finally looked to her father, giving him a small smile at the personal information he shared. They were a very open family, but something about this felt even more personal. “But, did you ever think you were faking it?” 

“Not really, but you already know how pretentious your father is,” he chuckled, lighting the mood. “Your mother, as she’ll tell you, had a completely different experience. Said she struggled for years thinking she was either faking it or actually completely gay! She once told me that she just couldn’t disclose it with anyone, and that led her to a lot of contemplation. But if you’re feeling this way too, I need you to know your mother and I are here to support you in any way we can.”

“Dad,” June scrunched her eyes looking down at her crossed legs. “I think I might like girls. Or at least, I think. After Sage told me she’d ditched me I just realized I don’t like her just as a friend.” 

At this moment, tears began to form in her eyes from all the confusion. Instantly Harry brought her into aa encompassing bear hug, keeping her safe in his chest. It hurt him to see her going through this dilemma, the inter-workings of adolescents were never fun. 

“It’s just,” June suddenly choked on a sob, grasping her dad’s hoodie. Harry began to rub her back for support. “I like her I think. Like really like her dad. I don’t want her to date a boy, I want to date her. But she won’t like me and...I don’t know! Why did this have to happen to me!” She continued, clearly soaking his hoodie.

“Oh baby, please don’t ever think this is a bad thing. Sexuality is a spectrum, many of our friends are somewhere on it, and you already know Elizabeth and Mary are married. This is a beautiful thing to discover baby. But yes, I won’t lie to you, it’s going to be hard. There may be times you like someone who doesn’t like girls but bug, that’s simply life.”

“What if I am dad. I don’t know if I like boys at all.”

“Then you are. As simple as that. You can label how you feel or not, it’s all about what feels most comfortable to you. As you know, your mother and I will be here to support you in any way we can. If you like girls, so be it, you’re still our daughter and you know that. If you like boys, which I mean yuck,” he imitated a gagging noise, rising a laugh out of June “then okay. Both or everyone? It’s all okay bub. I do want you to think about it, It might take some time to accept it but we’re accepting you any way you are. You’re so beautiful and strong, and your sexuality doesn’t diminish that in any way.” He made sure to hug her tightly as he said this, expressing his full support. 

“Dad, thank you.” June exhaled, releasing herself to wipe her tears. 

“Of course, June. I’m so happy you were able to tell me this, I know it must’ve been hard.”

After a deep breath, June looked calmer after her small crisis. “I knew you guys would be okay with anything but it’s just, much harder than I expected to really like your friend who doesn’t like you.”

“It’s hard, so so hard. Ask your mum, seriously I swear she told me she also liked one of her friends at your age. Universal gay experience perhaps?” Harry pondered. 

June gave a small laugh to that. “Yeah, I’ll ask. I don’t want her to think I left her out of this, it’s just that I’ve heard about your sexuality in the media more.”

“Pesky things, but I understand. It was so hard for your mom in comparison to me. Do you want me to let her know first, is it okay that I let her know you might be questioning?” He gave her daughter a sincere inquisitive look, valuing consent over everything. 

“Yeah, of course. Probably talk to her tomorrow after we drop the twins off. I really appreciate it, dad.”

“No problem bug. Let’s get you tucked away.” 

__________ part 2

OH MY GOD this is my first I HOPE YOU LIKE. please any feedback would be so sexy. 

[ibis-gt]

i made a fairytale au for cam and luther and then wrote nearly 5k words of fic for it?? which is wild bc i am not much of a writer. but. that’s under the cut. content warning for a pretty violent scene towards the end but there’s a happy ending i prommy

Once upon a time, there lived a prince. This prince, Luther by name, lived in a kingdom that was plagued by monsters. His father, the king, had gained his throne by feats of heroism, most notably by slaying a fearsome dragon that had ruled the land for years. The time came for Luther to prove he was worthy of the title of prince by slaying a monster of his own… 

Down in the countryside, farmers have been complaining for weeks of an ogre stealing their cattle and frightening their children. So Luther sets off in a splendid suit of armor, with a sword sheathed on one hip, a quiver of arrows on the other, and his bow slung on his back.

Luther rides his horse down to the village where the ogre was last spotted. He talks with the locals and gets a description of the creature. At least forty feet tall, they say, with greenish-grey skin and dark hair and teeth the length of a man’s forearm. Luther leaves his horse behind with the farmers because he doesn’t want her getting hurt and marches off, following a set of giant footprints left behind by the ogre, sword in hand. He would have to admit that he isn’t the best at sword fighting, and that really he’s never faced a monster on his own. But his father gave him a crucial tip: every monster has a weak point. Find the weak point, exploit it, and you’ll win every time. 

The footprints lead through the plains of grass, past the area where the farmers let their cattle out to graze, and into a dark forest. The sun is going down before he manages to find the ogre, so he sets up a little camp with a little fire and rests his tired bones. His armor isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it takes forever to get on and off even with someone helping him, let alone by himself. He sits with his back to a big boulder so nothing can sneak up behind him and eventually drifts off.

Luther awakens the next morning and groans at how stiff and sore he is. He sits up and pauses, brow furrowed, remembering that he’d gone to bed sitting upright. But just now, he’d been lying on his back. And he’s not the best tracker, but those giant footprints look… disconcertingly fresh. These things add up in his mind. He just about passes out. He crouches down and puts his head between his knees for a moment until he can breathe again and his heart stops pounding quite so hard. He was right next to it! He fell asleep leaning on it! If his father heard about this he’d give him such a beating. How could he not have noticed that the boulder was actually - 

His stomach rumbles, interrupting his panicked thoughts, and Luther remembers that the last time he ate was back in that farming village around two in the afternoon yesterday. He digs out a bit of beef jerky and morosely works at it. His father swears by the stuff, but it just makes his teeth hurt. Luther dreams of the kitchens back home and drools a little.

He gives up on the jerky and manages to take down a couple squirrels with his bow and arrows. He gets his fire blazing again and sets them cooking over it, and sits down to draw in the dirt and form a battle plan. He gets wrapped up in his drawing and loses track of time, but is startled violently back to reality as a deep booming voice from behind him says, “Your squirrel’s burning.”

Luther’s eyes snap up to the fire. He hastily pulls the stick with his squirrels off of it, waving it in the air to put out the bit of squirrel that had caught fire. He blows on it and inspects the damage. Not too bad, a little charred. Still definitely edible. Then realization dawns, and he slowly looks up and over his shoulder.

That’s the ogre. He’s unmistakable. Huge, greyish-green, with shaggy black hair and big tusks that jut out of his mouth. He’s down on one knee looming over Luther, modesty barely preserved by a loincloth stitched together out of the pelts of many different furry animals. Luther wills himself to not faint for the second time that day. 

“You gonna eat that?” The ogre booms. “’Cause I will if you won’t.”

“W-well, yes, I was planning to,” Luther quavers, “But there are two, so, um, you can have one if you want? We can share?”

He takes the non-burned squirrel off the stick and holds it up. His hand only shakes a little. The ogre takes it carefully between thumb and forefinger and tosses it in his mouth. With such a tiny morsel, he’d usually just swallow it whole, but an interesting flavor makes him stop and savor it for a moment. 

“What’d you do to it? Not like any squirrel I’ve eaten. And I’ve eaten a whole army of squirrels.” He slaps a hand on his formidable belly. The sound makes Luther jump. 

“I- I didn’t do much, j-just some seasoning, I-I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, please don’t eat me next." 

"You?” The ogre laughs. “Why would I eat you? You shared your food with me. That’s mighty polite. I’d say that makes us friends now, and I don’t eat friends.” He grunts as he shifts position, sitting down heavily and stretching out his legs. “Bad knees,” he grumbles. “Sat like that too long, but I wanted to see what you were drawing." 

Luther is now horrifically aware that he is directly between the ogre’s legs. He is also horrifically aware that he was drawing himself hitting an ogre with a sword. He hurriedly kicks some dirt over it. 

"Nothing. Nothing interesting. I’m a bad artist anyway.”

“Sure. What’s your name, little tin man? You didn’t seem too talkative when you snuggled up to me last night, but I thought maybe you were just tired. I’m Cam." 

"L-Luther.” Oh god. He was supposed to kill this thing, it - well, no, not ‘it’, he can’t think of Cam as an ‘it’ now he knows his name - he’s terrorizing folks, stealing their livelihoods, he’s supposed to drive him away, save the day, bring peace to the kingdom. Instead he’s sharing his meager breakfast and making friends with the monster. How did it all go so wrong!!

“So, Luther, you made of metal? I thought you were gonna take all that off, looks pretty uncomfortable, but you wore it all night. Unless it’s like… you?" 

"No, no, um, it’s just… it takes a long time to put it on and take it off? And I usually need help.”

 "Well shoot, friend, why didn’t you say so?“ Before Luther can object, a giant hand descends and plucks him up. He panics, struggles in Cam’s grasp, and Cam tsks at him. "I can’t get all that off you if you don’t hold still. Don’t make me squeeze." 

Luther goes still. If Cam squeezes the armor, it’ll stay squeezed. He wouldn’t want to still be in it if that happens. Cam clearly has no idea how to get someone out of armor though. He just pulls at clasps and buckles till they break, then shucks the metal off of Luther like an ear of corn. His helmet comes off first, freeing his dark brown curls.

“Aww,” Cam says, “lookit you. You’re kinda cute for a tin man.” He musses up Luther’s hair with a fingertip. "You’re like a little crab,” Cam chuckles. “Crack open the hard shell to get to the soft stuff underneath.” The food metaphor does not put Luther any more at ease as the rest of his armor is pulled off and tossed aside, piece by piece. Cam even strips the chainmail off of him and dumps it on the ground. This leaves Luther in his shirt and breeches, shaking like a leaf and terrified for his life. 

“Oh, you cold? Here, I gotcha.” Cam sandwiches him between his hands. Luther awaits the pressure and the horrible crunch that will no doubt be the end of his short life, but it never comes. Cam just holds him there, and truth be told his hands are very warm, and it had been a chilly morning. Luther relaxes very slightly.

After a few minutes, Cam lifts one hand a little and peeks at Luther. “Better?" 

"Much better, thank you. Even a little too warm, actually? Can I, um, come out now?" 

Cam laughs and opens his hands like a book, then tilts them so Luther tumbles into the palm of his left hand. "So what’s a fancy little shrimp like you doing all the way out here, with that tough shell and those sharp weapons? You huntin’ something?" 

Luther hesitates. It’s not… technically a lie, just an omission of truth, right? "Yeees…. Hunting.”

Cam laughs out loud, leaning back and slapping his knee with his free hand. “HA! You are just about the worst liar I ever met, Luther. Whew.” He actually wipes a tear from his eye. Luther feels his face heating up with anger and embarrassment.

“I am hunting! I’m hunting you!” As soon as he says it he regrets it. He slaps his hands over his mouth and cowers back as Cam sits up straight again and looks down at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“That so? Huh. Well, you found me, oh mighty hunter. And you fed me, and let me take your armor off you, and left all your sharp things on the ground while you sit in the palm of my hand. So, uh… how’s that goin’ for ya?”

“It… I… um… please don’t kill me?”

Cam grins. It’s not a nice grin anymore. It shows off too many teeth. “Lotsa folks have hunted me, you know. Not a one has succeeded. Most of ‘em can’t find me in the first place, not unless I want them to. Neat little trick we ogres have. We blend in well. The ones who did find me, they regretted it pretty quick. When I heard you clanking along with your silly armor and your little sword, I thought oh boy, here comes another one. But it turns out this one couldn’t find his own ass with both hands and a map, so he ain’t one of them legendary monster hunters lookin’ to claim some bounty. And he’s a little scrawny slip of a thing, too, and he keeps stopping to look at birds. I kinda liked you. And honestly, when you found me, it took me by surprise. Thought I had you pegged all wrong. Then you made your little fire, curled up next to me, and went to sleep, and it took everything I had not to bust my gut laughing right then and there. And now… well, I don’t rightly know what to make of you. Cute little thing, I know that. But cute won’t save you if you wanna tussle with me. So, little hunter… what’re you gonna do now?”

Luther’s nearly in tears. He manages to say, “Then… were you just… toying with me? This whole time? Waiting to see what I’d do?" 

Cam shrugs. "Pretty much.” That does it. The waterworks are in full swing. Luther’s chin trembles, his lower lip wobbles, and then tears are streaming down his face and he’s sobbing. 

“Y- you’re s-so-ho meeeaaaan,” Luther wails. “Y-you’re j-just making f-fun of me, I thought w-we were friends!” 

Cam has absolutely no idea how to respond to this. For some reason he actually feels guilty. “Aw - no - now look, there’s no call for - just… just stop crying, okay? Please?” Luther continues to sob, heedless of Cam’s pleading. “There, there,” Cam tries, patting Luther’s head. “I’m not going to kill you. Okay? How’s that? I’m sorry I called you - well. All those things. I’m sure you’re a great hunter. Look, you got those squirrels. And hey! That one I ate tasted great. You got some real skill there." 

Luther wipes his eyes and looks up, teetering dangerously on the edge of another sobbing fit. His eyes are all watery and a little red-rimmed. "R-really?" 

"Yes! Of course!” Cam clings to the compliment like a life preserver. “I bet you’re like, like the king’s cook or something, right? Cause you’re the best in the land?" 

Luther’s face crumples a little and he looks down, mutters something. 

"What?” Cam holds him up a little closer to his ear. 

“’m his son,” Luther mumbles again. 

“His son? You’re a prince? And you’re all - oh, hell.” Now he’s really put his foot in it. Luther bursts into tears again and curls up in a little ball.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I - oh, ugh, you’re getting my hand all wet.” Cam picks him up between thumb and forefinger and shakes the little tear droplets off his palm. “Now look here,” he says, attempting a sterner approach. “You’re a prince, all right? You can’t be crying and going to pieces just ‘cause some big bad monster was mean to you. You gotta kill big bad monsters, right? So here’s what you’re gonna do.” Cam sets him down gently, picks up his sword and hands it to him. “There you go. You’re gonna take that sword, right, and you’re gonna really let me have it. That’ll make you feel better, won’t it?“ 

Luther purses his lips and looks up at him. "But… all I can hit from here is your foot. That’s no good. I need a shot at something vital." 

"Oh fine, fine, Mr. Picky,” Cam grumbles. He shuffles his legs to the side and leans down til he’s practically laying on his belly. “Face shot. Free one for ya. Go on, hit something good.” Luther considers. Just as Cam realizes how ridiculous this whole thing is, he draws his sword back and plunges it into Cam’s eye.

- Almost plunges it into Cam’s eye. The ogre moves suddenly, turning his head to the side to avoid the blow. Luther makes a deep gash in Cam’s cheek, and Cam roars. “Oh, you sly little shit. Very good, very sneaky. You almost had me there. Fine. We do this the hard way.”

He gets to his feet, draws himself up to his full, impressive height, and looks down at the dirt where Luther was a moment ago. Cam blinks in surprise. “Where’d you… goddammit…” He looks around, trying to catch a glimpse of where Luther could’ve gotten to. 

Luther was not about to let the golden opportunity to run and hide during a big dramatic show of power go to waste. He slides into a patch of underbrush, catches his breath, and takes stock. He has no armor, no food, no bow or arrows. Those are all back at his camp, which is currently ogre territory. He has one sword that he’s okay at using. The ogre has the homefield advantage, and some kind of ability, possibly magical, to hide himself from those who want to find him. Luther shouldn’t let him out of his sight. But he should work on camouflaging himself. He takes a handful of dirt and smears it on his face and shirt. The sword he can’t do much about, he’ll just have to try and keep it from glinting. He glances to his left, away from where Cam still stands, turning in circles and peering around. Luther had only gone a little ways into the woods before he stopped for camp last night. He can almost see the forest’s edge from here. He could dart for the grasslands and try to make it back to the village, but he’d be in plain sight as soon as he’s out of the trees and there’s no guarantee Cam won’t just follow him all the way back. The further he goes into the trees the more firmly he is in Cam’s territory, but the more coverage he has. 

Possibilities begin swirling around in his head. His best bet is trickery rather than a face to face confrontation. He’s got a running list in his mind of Cam’s weak points now. Food, monologuing, emotional outbursts. Although that last one’s probably off the table now. Bursting into tears isn’t going to get him out of a second pinch. Bad knees - if he can trip Cam up, he can get a shot at his face again, maybe cut his throat or get at his soft belly and sides. Cam’s a talker and likes to gloat, maybe if he gets him distracted by looking pathetic he could get him to walk right into a trap of some kind. He likes food… but Luther doesn’t have the resources to make a big feast to distract him or sate him, just a pouchful of seasoning that he never leaves home without. His lip wobbles again as he thinks about how that’s back at his camp… he may never see his precious seasonings again.

Meanwhile, Cam is getting frustrated. “Well, the little shit can’t have gone far,” he grumbles. “Just gotta flush 'im out.” Luther watches, petrified, as Cam lumbers over to a nearby patch of underbrush and without warning stomps down on it hard, twisting his foot and smashing every inch of it. He steps back and leans down to inspect what’s left. Luther bites his lip hard to stifle a whimper. 

“Nope, not there,” Cam announces. “Eeney, meeney, miney…..” Another bunch of bushes are mercilessly ground into the dirt. “Moe. Hmmm. Where are you?”

Luther can’t stay in his hiding place for long. It’s only a matter of time before Cam gets to him. He needs an opening to make a break for it though, if he runs now Cam will spot him right away. As slowly as he dares, he picks up a large, flat rock, then skims it like a frisbee off to his right, where it hits a tree with a satisfying thock. Cam whirls around, and Luther bolts out of the brush. Cam hears the leaves rustling and turns back around, catching sight of him as he flees. 

“There you are! Hold on now, don’t go running off! I just wanna talk, I swear. The whole monster-slaying prince thing not working out for ya? I got a better job offer! You can be my dinner!” Luther keeps sprinting as fast as he can, not even bothering to glance behind him. The last thing he needs is to miss a fallen branch or a groundhog hole and trip.

On flat, open land, the ogre would outpace him easily. But if he can get deeper into the forest where the trees are closer together, that could slow him down enough for Luther to get some distance and hide again, have a moment to breathe and think so he can work on his plan. He’s starting to get an idea of what he’ll need. He needs the element of surprise for sure, and he needs more than just his sword. If he had some rope he could set up a tripwire, maybe. He curses himself for not taking his father’s advice about packing, for letting Cam strip him, for being too weak and scared to do anything when he had the chance, for being born in the first place. His eyes well up with tears and he scrubs at them furiously. He can’t afford to have his sight blurred right now, he needs to keep his head clear and keep moving. He can hear Cam’s thudding footsteps behind him, gaining quickly. He can cover so much more ground in a single step. It’s simply not fair. The little bit of distance he was able to gain with his rock trick is disappearing fast and it won’t be long before he’s in arm’s reach.

Almost as if he can read his thoughts, Cam lunges forward and takes a swipe at him, trying to knock him off his feet. Luther hits the deck and Cam overbalances, stumbling and crashing into a tree. The tree snaps when his weight collides with it, and Cam has to windmill his arms to keep from falling over. Luther scrambles to his feet and keeps running. He even manages to put on an extra burst of speed when he hears Cam roar with frustration behind him. He’s not as fast as he could be because he’s lugging the sword along with him, but he doesn’t dare drop it. It proves its usefulness in the next minute. Cam closes the distance and grabs for him. Luther sees the shadow fall over him and whirls around, lashing out at the reaching hand. He slices across Cam’s palm, and Cam howls with pain and pulls back. Luther dashes away, and Cam stomps his foot in frustration. 

"Hold still, dammit! You’re just making it worse for yourself!” He takes off after Luther again, but his stamina’s flagging. It’s harder for a creature his size to haul himself around and he’s used to running down his prey in the first minutes of the chase. This has dragged on long enough to tire him out, but he’s not willing to give up just yet. “When I get my hands on you, tin man, you’re paste,” he growls. “They’re gonna have to come up with new words for how dead you’re gonna be.”

The trees start getting close enough together that Luther has to dodge around them from time to time. He can hear Cam behind him crashing through them, spluttering as he gets a face full of branches and leaves. Luther smiles to himself. That’s nice, at least. At last he gathers up his nerve and dodges to the side behind a particularly large tree, hoping that Cam’s too busy navigating the foliage to notice. His gamble pays off. A few seconds later, the ogre goes lumbering past him without so much as a sideways glance. Luther waits just a moment more, then bolts in the opposite direction.

He’s got a plan now. He probably won’t be able to find Cam again, but Cam can find him. So he’ll set up an ambush. He circles back around to his camp and grabs his supplies as quickly as he can, his bow and arrow, his helmet, his tinderbox, and most importantly, his seasoning. He hunts for deer, takes down a decent-sized buck, and sets up a new campfire, deep in the woods, where the trees are close. He’s hoping that Cam will think that Luther thinks he’s safe in there, and that the smell of the meat cooking will lure Cam in. He takes off his shirt and fills it with twigs and leaves, sets his helmet up on a stick driven into the ground, and makes a decently convincing decoy Luther that he leans against a log. The helmet tilts at an angle that makes it look like he’s fallen asleep. With that set up, and night closing in, Luther climbs up a nearby tree and waits, sword in hand.

He doesn’t watch the fire. He wants to keep his night vision sharp. And sure enough, before too long here comes Cam, moving surprisingly quietly for his size. He squeezes through the trees with barely a rustling of leaves. Cam’s eyes are fixed on the fire and the silhouette that the decoy makes against it. Cam gets right behind the decoy and slams his foot down on it. He grinds it into the dirt with a relish that makes Luther shudder. Then Cam looks at the deer cooking with that lovely smell rising off it, and his eyes go big and shiny. As Cam bends down to pick it up, Luther chooses his moment. He drops like a stone and buries his sword lengthwise in the back of Cam’s neck. The impact sends a jolt up his arms and he hangs on as tight as he can. Cam lets out a garbled scream of pain and collapses face first on the ground. Luther gets to his feet, pulls his sword out with some difficulty, takes a deep breath, and begins to chop.

It’s messy, horrible work. By the third swing tears are rolling down Luther’s cheeks. By the seventh, he’s sobbing. After the twenty-third cut, Cam’s head is finally severed, and rolls to the side. Luther stumbles back. He’s trembling, covered in blood, panting and crying, but it’s finally done. 

And then Cam’s head says, “Wow, kid. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Luther watches, dumbfounded, as Cam’s body sits up, searches around with its hands, locates his head, and puts it back on his shoulders as the flesh knits together again. Luther drops his sword in disbelief. He falls to his knees. That was it. That was all he had. He can’t even imagine what he could do against a foe who can just reattach his own head. 

“Oh,” he says quietly. “Okay. Um. Make it quick, please?” Cam had been planning to crunch the little shit once he was back on his feet, but he can’t help but feel a pang of guilt at how despondent Luther looks.

“Aw, no, no, don’t give up so quick! Really, you almost had me!” Cam scoops him up and pats him on the head. “Look, it was a good effort. I’m sure if you had known I can’t be killed, you wouldn’t have spent all that time and energy trying to kill me. Just do a little more research next time, yeah?" 

"Next time,” Luther repeats, and gives a hollow laugh. “There isn’t going to be a next time. I’m not welcome as part of the royal family if I can’t kill a monster. Even my sister’s done her first slaying already. A whole nest of vampires! And I can’t kill one measly ogre." 

"Hey, watch who you’re calling measly,” Cam warns, but his heart isn’t in it. “Jeez. You’ve got some issues, kid. Not much of a fighter, I take it?" 

Luther shakes his head and sighs. "I’m just not very good at it." 

"Well they chose one hell of a first mission for you, that’s for sure. Ogres are tricky ones. We’ve got a lot of defense mechanisms.” Cam thinks for a moment. “You know what you are good at, though? You’re a good talker. Very convincing. I mean, you really had me going, with the crying and all? It was a really good ruse." 

Luther bites his lip. "Um…" 

"Okay, so it was for real and not a ruse. But you made the best of a bad situation! That’s also a good skill for a ruler to have. You just gotta show your family that your skills are less conventional, but still effective! Like, okay, why do you have to kill me? What’d I do?" 

“You’re eating all the farmers’ cattle and scaring people." 

"I thought free range meant I had free reign. Eh? Eh?” Cam pokes Luther in the ribs. Luther frowns at him. “Oh, fine, whatever. No sense of humor. You know, that’s pretty important for a king too. Yeah, all right, I’ll leave the cows alone." 

"And the sheep,” Luther says sharply. “And the pigs, and chickens." 

"I haven’t eaten any pigs or chickens,” Cam protests. 

“Not yet. I’m being proactive." 

"There you go!” Cam says, beaming. “There’s that negotiator skill! But seriously, if I can’t eat the cows and sheep I’ve got to eat something. Can you make it worth my while? 'Cause I’m not going back to squirrels." 

"Well…” Luther says slowly. “What if… I hire you?" 

"You… hire me?" 

"Yeah. Like, as a bodyguard or something. Then I’d have to pay you, right? I could pay you in food?” 

Cam is quiet for a moment. He brings Luther up closer to his face and scrutinizes him. Luther’s heart is pounding out of his chest. For a moment he thinks he’s made some horrible mistake and offended Cam and it’s all over for him. "You’re serious? Not kidding me, here? That’s your offer?”

“Y-yes? Is that… is it bad?" 

"Bad? Bad? That’s the best offer I’ve ever heard! Pay me in food? HELL yes, kid! That’s what I like to hear!” The force of Cam’s enthusiasm knocks Luther over on his back. He stares at the sky for a moment. His life is so goddamn weird.

~~~~~~~~~

Luther’s father’s dragon slaying days are behind him. He’s an old man now. He has good days and bad days, but even on his best days he frequently needs help getting around. But when he sees that giant ogre enter his royal halls, he reaches for his spear. Luther eases it out of his hand. 

“No, see, it’s okay. I didn’t kill him, but I stopped him terrorizing the countryside, and I kind of… hired him. As my bodyguard. This was easier, and we both benefit, see? Also, um, were you going to tell me ogres are immortal?" 

"You were supposed to figure something out,” his father says. “Since you’re so damned smart." 

"Well, I did figure something out. Just… maybe not what you wanted me to." 

Cam waves lazily. "Hi, Yer Majesty." 

"Cam,” Luther hisses. “We talked about this." 

"Oh, fine, fine,” Cam grumbles, and takes a knee to bow low before the king. “I humbly pledge my service to your son,” he intones, hamming it up just a little. “Please allow me to protect him from all harms, and so on." 

The king glares. His stabbing hand is itching. But he doesn’t currently have a better plan, and this’ll keep the peasants quiet for a bit. "Fine,” he spits, “But you’re taking care of him. Feeding him, walking him, cleaning up after him, whatever. No getting the servants to do it for you. He’s your responsibility now." 

Cam grins at Luther. "So, speaking of feeding… when’s dinner?”

[yourbuerokrat2]

@azrael08

I really love that idea. Maybe it's some time after the finale of TNG and since at this point Q got to 'not that bad of a guy once you got to know him and he somewhat cares about me' territory with Picard, more social visits outside of Continuum business would not be that far fetched. Picard is at firt a bit sceptical but over time he just accepts that sometimes Q is just bored (and lonely but Q is not going to admit to that) and wants to visit what he considers 'the closest thing to a friend' he has in the entire universe. And at one point Picard comes home really tired and has had a quite horrible mission (he doesn't really blame Q when Q is not there to be their deus ex machina). All that Picard wants is some rest and a bit of distraction from the horrors he witnessed. And Q just sitting with him on a couch, talking about the latest planets he visits (the offer that Picard can just come with him next time is there) actually brings him a sort of comcoft and beore he knows it he is asleep, his head resting on Qs shoulder.

Q is at first a bit confused as to what happened but as you wrote he is absolutely delighted at this development. Because Q seemed genuinly hurt when Picard said that 'we' didn't trust Q so to have this proof that Picard lets his guard down to the point where he falls asleep in Qs presence and leans against him is just great.

And Q now even has the perfect excuse to invade Picards personal space. After all, maybe PIcard is starting to get a bit cold and instead of snapping PIcard into his bed with a blanket he cuddles him. Because body heat. And you would think that Q would grow bored but again, this is a huge even if subconcious proof that PIcard trusts him and has gotten somewhat comfortable around him and Q can hold him and kiss him on the forehead without any sort of protest from his human.

My money would be on number two because Q just loves to annoy and get a reaction out of Picard and this would be such great material especially with how comfortable Picard had been in his arms (Q challenging Picard to say that he genuinly did not sleep incredibly well in the arms of a godlike being and no lie of omission because Q is able to tell, causing Picard to flush).

I think that if Picard ever accidentally fell asleep on Q, like just the slightest little head rest on Q's shoulder, Q would be so surprised but absolutely positively delighted!

He'd wait a few seconds to make sure Picard's actually asleep, listen to him breathing quietly, and then just- pick him up and place him fully on his lap. Like if a pet falls asleep next to you you'd pick it up and place it on your lap to cuddle it more. Q doesn't do anything else, even if he gets bored he lets Picard sleep. He just keeps his arms around the captain's waist and holds him happy to have his fun.

Of course when Picard wakes up he either (1) wakes up alone and with his favourite hot tea by his side bc Q vanished and didn't want Jean Luc to get all harumph harumph >:( about being in Q's lap or (2) Picard wakes up and does in fact get all angry after he realizes he's sitting in Q's lap which Q doesn't help by teasing him non-stop making the captain flush just a little bit.

[mutants-and-soldiers]

The Proposition (Ch. 1)

summary || You've been thinking about Steve's proposal a lot. Part of you wants to decline but a bigger part of you wants what he's offering.

pairing || alpha!Steve x omega!Reader (Past alpha!Bucky x omega!Reader)

word count || 3,706

warnings || A/B/O, eventual smut, therapy talks, kink negotiation, lots of dialogue — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || I can't get this story out of my head, really! First chapter is all about setting up the smut so I apologize but I believe in talking things out. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first part of the series! I'm going to try and be better about answering comments from here on out! Keep the comments coming, I love hearing from you guys so much!

You can also read it on Ao3. Do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my work, even if you credit me. I always welcome comments and reblogs!

Sequel to Helping Hands: One Two Three Four Five

Divider courtesy of the talented @firefly-graphics

After so many years of going to see Dr. Beta, you were used to the routine when you stepped through the doors. It was late in their work day so you were the only person in the office other than Valarie, the receptionist, who gave you a kind smile. “Good afternoon,” she said, typing something onto her computer. “Dr. Beta’s just about ready.”

“Thanks, Valarie,” you say, setting your bag down to take off your suit.

It had been weird the first time Dr. Beta had demanded you not wear the suit during your sessions. You protested but in the end, she won out. There were a lot of reasons for choosing a female-only office but this was the biggest one. They accommodate you so much just to make you feel welcome and safe in your own skin. It was one of the few places that you could take the suit off and feel comfortable.

The suit was just being zipped up into your bag when the door to the doctor’s office opened. Dr. Beta was a matronly middle aged woman with plenty of laugh lines and crow's feet from years of laughter and joy. She was a kind beta who had done wonders for your mental health and self esteem. Without her, you probably wouldn’t have gone through with the job proposal.

She called your name with a gentle smile, “You ready?”

“Yep,” you smiled, walking over to step into the room. The blinds were closed tight but there were several lamps around the space that allowed a soft light to keep it illuminated. The wooden diffuser was pumping out the soothing smell of lemon and sandalwood. Dr. Beta had always said the lemon helped cut the potency of your powers but you weren’t sure if that was true or if it was something she said to make you feel better.

The two of you settled into your usual spots before the doctor asks, “Anything new since we last saw each other?”

It had been a month since your last session. The milestone of going monthly instead of bi-monthly had been huge for you. There was a time that you saw her weekly, which was when you were at your lowest. You were glad to be where you were.

“Where do I even start?” you laugh, leaning casually back on the leather couch. The cold material felt nice on the bare skin that peeked out from your denim shorts and athletic tank top. “I’ve been meeting regularly with three guys to run with them every Tuesday and Thursday. We also go out for drinks and the game on Sunday.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic!” she gushed, genuinely excited for you. She even sat her clipboard and pen down to lean forward with her elbows on her knees. It was something she only did when you made some kind of...positive choice in your life. The way it made your chest swell with self pride was silly and kind of childish but the woman had always been extra motherly to you. “Clients?”

“One of them was,” you nod, trying to keep the flush of excitement from making you seem too eager. “They’re really nice guys and they invited me to start sparring with them next week after our runs.”

A gentle look crossed the doctor’s face that had you melting. It was a look that she gave when she was proud and the way your name came out of her mouth spoke volumes. “I’m so proud of you,” she said aloud even though you knew it by her body language. “It’s been a long time since you took time for yourself in your personal life. Are they on your level of martial arts?”

“Better!” you said, excited to have a good challenge.

“Better than you?” she laughed, sounding incredulous. “I’d have to see that to believe it!” You join her for the laugh. “Anything else?”

Your mind flutters to a certain blond and his proposition but decide to keep that to yourself for now. It wasn’t good for you to hide secrets from Dr. Beta and you usually didn’t, however, she would definitely encourage you to take him up on the offer. You didn’t think you were ready to come up with reasons (lies) for why you couldn’t do that yet.

“Not really.”

She nods, grabbing her clipboard to flip the paper. “Dr. Noland said you were going to get your heat early this time around. She said you mentioned you might know why?”

Damn it. You forgot how much the two doctors communicated between each other about your health. It was the program you were in and, while amazingly helpful, could be very annoying at times. Case in point, now you need to make a choice on whether to point blank lie to Dr. Beta or just tell the truth. Lying by omission was much more your style.

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation. “The last client I helped had...intense pheromones. I think it may have kicked me into my heat cycle early.”

The doctor’s hazel eyes widened in shock, “Even with the suppressant you took?”

Nodding, you look away for a second. “The client was a super soldier,” you admit, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Understanding blossomed on her face when she made a guess as to who you were talking about. “Well, that might do it, for sure,” she nodded, making a note. “Still, I’m going to have Dr. Noland change your suppressant just in case it’s not working.”

She stood up, going over to the cabinet behind her desk. She took out a large bottle, tossing it to you, that had heat vitamins in them. Another bottle was thrown your way full of pills specifically for healthy slick production. The last thing she came over with were a few vouchers for omega-centric energy drinks and heat-snacks.

“I know you hate this question but I am legally required to ask,” she chuckles. “Do you have someone you trust to help you through your heat?”

You hesitate. “No.”

Her head snaps up, hazel eyes pinning you to the spot. “You hesitated. You never hesitate,” she points out with far too much excitement. She sets the clipboard down, doing the lean again. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag and now you couldn’t lie because she would never believe you now. “I was...propositioned,” you admit, feeling stupidly relieved that you had been honest with her. She had conditioned you so fucking well to feel better when you told the truth as opposed to lying. It had been a ‘bad coping mechanism’ you created during your childhood to gain some control of your otherwise uncontrollable life.

“By one of your new friends?” she asked, already getting the gist of the conversation. “Was it your client?”

“No, not my client but his...best friend,” you whisper, feeling a little embarrassed that you were having this conversation.

Dr. Beta is quiet for a moment, contemplating how to ask the question. “What’s the big deal then? Why not take him up on the offer?”

You cringe. “There are…a lot of reasons but I’m sure you’re going to make them seem like they’re not problems but things I’ve blown up in my mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You know your feelings and worries are valid! I just help you see things in a more logical light. I think you should really talk this through with him but...would you like to practice with me?”

You bite your lower lip but give a heavy sigh when you realize there’s still nearly forty minutes left of your time with her. “Fine. It can’t hurt.”

You sat in the booth twitching with your napkin. You and the owner were good friends from back in your academy days so he allowed you to pay a certain amount for the whole rooftop terrace. It meant you could enjoy a meal with someone without having to wear your suit. You also got the same female server every time who knew your situation and didn’t care.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you heard a familiar voice say to your left.

Not really sure why, you stood up when he approached. He was wearing a thin blue zip-up jacket over a blue and white plaid button up shirt that was unbuttoned enough for you to see the white t-shirt he had under it. His jeans were dark and fit far too well around his massive thighs. A plain blue ball cap sat on his head and some fake glasses to help hide his identity. The smile he gave you was enough to make your preheat brain purr.

It took you by surprise when his big arms wrapped you up in a hug that smothered you in his masculine scent. Your hands touched his back, hugging him hesitantly. The squeeze lasted a little longer than you expected, just enough for your head to be perfectly swimming in his pheromones.

You pulled away when he did, allowing him to sit at the far side of the table, facing towards the rest of the area. He had insisted that you come without your suit so it was the least you could do to keep the waitress from noticing his erection.

“It’s okay, I ordered some water for us,” you smile, genuinely happy to see him. It wasn’t often that you saw any of the three men individually. They usually hung out in a pack and you were happy to know that you fit into the group pretty well. “Get whatever you want, Steve. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a look. “I would prefer it if you let me pay.”

Your heart gave a hard thump in your chest. There was something about the way he said it that was just short of a command. You look into his blue eyes, trying to gauge his intent before setting down the menu. “Is this some old-fashioned pride I see leaking through?” you tease, giving him a mischievous grin.

“No, I just figure it was only right that I buy you lunch before helping you with your heat,” he said so casually it made your face heat.

“What makes you think I’m going to agree?!” you laugh loudly.

There is a knowing glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Alone?” he questioned easily, looking up just as Julia came to the table.

“Welcome back,” she greets you, setting two empty glasses and a pitcher of water down on the table. “My name’s Julia.”

“Nice to meet you Julia,” Steve responded with a neutral smile. It caught you a little off guard because it...definitely wasn’t the smile he gave you. Was it just part of his disguise?

You both ordered a beer and your entrees. It wasn’t until Julia walked away that you focused back on the alpha across from you. He was already looking at you with an intense expression. You feel like he’s basically prying into your soul.

“I...spoke with my therapist yesterday and…” you start, finding it very hard to talk about this kind of thing. It was so easy to soothe your clients but so hard to give yourself a break. “She...convinced me to talk with you about my...worries.”

His expression softens a bit. “I’m willing to work with you,” he soothes, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and solid. “Tell me everything.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of hurting you,” you blurt out. “You can take me even on your worst day. I’m...embarrassed to count myself among the small population of omegas that go...feral during their heat. I...fight my partner. Dr. Beta says it's because of the trauma I experienced. Trauma doesn't just disappear during heat...it gets worse. I’m just not the usual kind of docile omega that society seems to exemplify.”

He looks up to alert you that Julia was returning with your drinks. He didn’t speak until she was back inside the building. “Truthfully, I’m actually more intrigued than put off by the notion,” he finally said after taking a sip of his beer. “Do you fight the whole time or just in the beginning?”

It wasn’t a line of questioning that you expected so you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few seconds before finding your words. “I don’t...know,” you admit sheepishly, sipping your hard cider. “I’ve only been with one alpha during my heat and he had to go to the hospital a few hours into it.”

Something dark and tempting flashed through the blond’s eyes. “How do you feel about restraints?”

Your core throbbed at the simple question. It probably showed on your face because his smile started to widen in understanding. “Yes, that’s fine,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about the implications.

“Would you prefer to do this at your house or in my suite?” he asked as if you had already agreed to the whole thing.

Your mind screamed at you to say decline. It was dangerous and there were so many things that could go wrong. Your omega brain though had already bought into the whole thing. You wanted this big, powerful alpha to hold you down and take you in the most forceful of ways. You wanted him to restrain you to your nest and have his way with you until the heat fog cleared.

“Wait, wait,” you say, trying to finish your thoughts before deciding anything. “I’m serious when I say I’m insatiable. I don’t have any refractory period between one wave and the next.”

Julia opens the door, alerting you both that she was coming out with food. You both wait until everything is set and she walks away before continuing. The food smells delicious so you grab the burger and bite into it. You always craved red meat before your heat so when the flavors burst across your taste buds, you hum in appreciation.

Steve took a few bites of his own meal before responding. “The super soldier serum makes it so I don’t have any refractory period,” he shrugs casually with a smile. “I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me so...I’m interested to see if you can. Any other worries?”

Heat blossoms across your cheek and in your chest. “I don’t want our friendship to be jeopardized,” you finally admit after finishing half of your burger. You grab some of the fries and eat them while thinking.

“Did helping Bucky keep you from being friends with him?”

“No, of course not,” you sigh, running out of excuses. Dr. Beta had been right, talking with him had definitely made you a little more comfortable with the idea. “Fine, okay, I accept your offer.”

“My place or yours?” he asks with a genuine smile.

You mull over the question for a bit before shrugging. “I have all of my nesting supplies at my house so we can do it at mine,” you chuckle, feeling a little nervous but excited too.

He nods. “Do I need to bring any supplies? Snacks or drinks?”

The two of you continue talking about the logistics of your heat while you finish the food. It makes you feel a lot better knowing you wouldn’t have to go through with it alone. You had already taken the initiative to send a message to all of your clients to let them know you would be out for your heat. You even went ahead and took an extra week just for yourself.

After you pay and you have your layers back on, the two of you stand outside the doors to the restaurant. You don’t want to leave him, truthfully. He smelt so good and you were so close to your heat that it was hard to separate from him. “Thanks for talking with me,” you smile despite the bonnet covering everything but your eyes. “I’ll give you a text when I’m ready.”

“Of course, thanks for lunch,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead through the layers. “Here, take this for your nest.”

He shucked his jacket and offered it. Your hand reaches out to take it slowly. “Thanks but this might just push me into it faster,” you laugh brightly, holding the large jacket close to your chest. You could smell the scent of him even through all of your layers. It made your head foggy.

“That’s the idea,” he smirked, turning towards the tower with a wave. “Just let me know when you want me to come over.”

You watch him walk away, eyes lingering on the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt and down until you stared at his toned ass in those jeans. It was obvious how close you were to your heat when sweat started to form along your temples and slick started to dampen your panties.

Once you got back home, you arranged your snacks and vitamins on the counter so they were easy for Steve to find. He might need to feed you for the first few waves because you weren’t sure if you’d be coherent or not. Then you went into your extra bedroom that you used for your heats and started getting it ready.

You pulled out all of your slick-resistant pillows, cushions and blankets from the closet to make a nest on your king sized bed. It was a nice four post bed that had your mind in dark places. All you could think about was being restrained with cuffs around one of those posts while Steve fucked into you.

It didn’t take long before you needed a pad for all of the fucking slick that was making everything so annoying. The nest took a lot longer that you would like to admit because it just didn’t seem...right. You’d never had this kind of issue before but your omega brain wanted Steve to be comfortable and happy too.

Looking back at the closet, you debated on whether or not you wanted to pull out the box of toys. You weren’t sure if Steve would want them or need them or…

“Fuck it,” you mutter, grabbing your phone to send the alpha a quick text. Toys or no toys?

You were adding his jacket to your nest when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Instead of the one or two word answer that you expected, it was...something else.

Definitely toys. I’ll enjoy teasing you until you’re begging for my knot.

Fuckin’ hell! Was this the same blond with the surprisingly boyish face that you had met during lunch today? The same guy that Sam teased about being an old virgin?

You didn’t think the pad was going to hold up to all of the slick that gush from you at the text. How does one respond to a text like that? You grabbed out the delicate pink box out of the closet, wincing at the color because it was the only color that the shop had to store your toys. Omegas were feminine right?! They liked pink, right?!

Laughing at yourself, you set the box on the little table in the room. You opened the lid and set it to the side so you could look at your assortment of toys. It was a collection you started when your first heat hit you at sixteen. You had been a late bloomer because of your constant martial arts training, which stilted your omega hormones.

It had all the necessities and even some extras. You had your typical knot dildo, a vibrator, a clit vibe, a few different types of condoms for when you weren’t in your heat, a bottle of lube that encouraged slick production, a bottle of regular lube, and a few different sized anal plugs. The last few were just because you enjoyed the feeling of being full when having sex.

Quickly you took a picture of the box and sent it to Steve as a reply. It was the best you could come up with. You had never really been good at those kinds of things. Well, you’d never had someone try and sext you.

Happy that everything was prepared, you cuddled under your fuzzy blanket in your nest. Comfort flooded through you as you nuzzled into the man’s jacket, deeply taking in his scent. It was nice and musky and made you feel warm and safe.

The phone buzzed. You’re okay with anal during your heat?

Your pheromone idled brain made you giggle, “Consent is important,” before you could text him back. Yes, I like being stuffed full.

It didn’t even register how inappropriate the text sounded before you hit send. You were obviously a lot further along than you had previously thought. The subtle throb of your core was starting to get worse but you weren’t too far gone to see his last text.

Good to know. Get some rest. Need me to come out and check on you before dark?

You groaned as a cramp hit your pelvis, slick becoming an issue. It simultaneously hurt and felt good. You were so distracted that you couldn’t answer the text message. Everything was suddenly too hot so you threw off your clothing, slipping your hand down to brush against your clit. It was already so sensitive it hurt but you needed relief.

It wasn’t enough and you knew that it would be futile to try and get yourself off with just your fingers but your brain wasn’t working. You groaned helplessly as the lackluster orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t enough, so frustratingly not enough. Sweat dripped down your cheek from your hairline making you kick off the blanket so you could turn over.

You didn’t care how it looked with your ass up because the scent of Steve on the jacket helped clear your head a little. It made your core throb but it also helped you become coherent. Enough so that you grabbed the phone and typed in a one word response that only said:

Now.

Credits for the pictures in Moodboard:

Unsplash photographers:

1. Kelly Sikkema

2. Vulkan Olmez

3. Toa Heftiba

Like, comment and reblogs are always welcome! Thanks for reading!

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Fic idea from a couple weeks ago (end goal ship is extraspicyhoney (TrF+UF+US))

Stretch is a famous actor. A heartthrob. Young and charming and goofy and so, so incredibly tired of it all. His only real friends are a college buddy, Sylv, and his body guard, Alibi. He’d never even set out to become an A-lister, he was just drawn to stage theater as a hobby and it all spiraled from there. He was grateful to have his brother still in his life, but Blue was otherwise completely “normal”, and could lead a perfectly normal life whenever he wanted to.

But not Stretch. Any new connections were either people he needed to rub elbows with (according to his manager), or people trying to rub elbows with him, and it was exhausting. Dating other celebrities was even worse because, for the most part, it wasn’t just an act for them, they took the whole lifestyle way too seriously.

Maybe he did have a huge stupid crush on Alibi at one point, but he could tell the feeling just wasn’t mutual, so he backed off, and now Alibi was one of the few people he really felt he could still be himself around.

Technically, catfishing is wrong, but what he’s doing isn’t technically catfishing, and while you can still lie by omission, he knew full well putting himself out in the open on a dating app would completely defeat the purpose of what he was doing in the first place. All he wanted was someone who didn’t know who he was. Someone to talk to that would talk to him for who he is, not who he is.

So, no pictures of himself. No disclosing his job. Just an age, that he’s a monster, and that he absolutely loves brain teasers.

The first few days were a slog of similarly anonymous users looking for a hookup, but after he’d whittled them down, the rest of the week was filled with brief, bad attempts at flirting, and one person calling him pretentious for knowing the differences between a limerick and a haiku.

He couldn’t check the app too often, especially not heading into a brief tour of interviews for a new movie he was in that would be coming out soon, but finally, after just over three weeks, he got his first real potential match.

Another mystery man, the only pictures offered on his profile of cats and nature scapes, and the bio supplied somehow less with a simple ‘hibernating probably’. Stretch matched with just about anyone who wasn’t straightforwardly looking for a hookup, so he wasn’t necessarily expecting much to come from an interaction with ‘The King Under The Mountain’, but he earned extra points for that username alone. He earned a few more when he didn’t even offer a greeting as their first message, just a brain teaser, miraculously one Stretch hadn’t seen a million times before, and it even took him a solid hour before he had to concede to guessing.

He’d guessed wrong, the other let him know (without providing the correct answer), but after a few minutes, he did send another message, a light tease about loving brain teasers apparently not making you very good at them. Stretch took the bait, teasing back, and soon enough he’d forgotten about the riddle altogether, in the slow paced back and forth.

King, as he’d taken to calling him in his own head, may be a slow typer, but he has a quick wit, and Stretch was delightfully surprised to learn that King knew very, very little about mainstream media. He even told Stretch he ‘doesn’t really watch movies’, like. At all. And for all Stretch liked to tease him about being an old man, truthfully, he might’ve been, given he had no age in his bio, either. But aside from that, they shared a similar love of books and astronomy, King even had a telescope, insisting the sky was clear where he lived and he liked to admire it whenever he got the chance. Obviously he loved cats, and Stretch even finagled King into telling him about his brood (five cats! Five!).

They talked about all manner of things, and before he knew it, they’d been messaging for weeks. Months. He eventually managed to convince Shade (his real nickname), to download Snapchat, and while Shade never shared any pictures of himself, and once he was certain Shade wouldn’t recognize him, Stretch was entirely fine sending his own tasteful (read: ridiculous) selfies on occasion.

Wherever Shade lived was surrounded by woods, and the monster often sent him back pictures of trees or fungi, flowers in his garden, his cats sunbathing, and Stretch became more and more certain Shade hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d insisted he wasn’t really a people person.

As it turned out, a hesitantly titled ‘friend’ had set up the account for Shade a while ago, and it wasn’t until his boredom reached an all time high that he finally decided to mess with the app for himself. He didn’t even know how to change the bio or username. Unsurprisingly Stretch was the only person he used it to talk to, which led to exchanging numbers so Shade didn’t have to bother with it and it’s ‘excruciating number of pop-ups’.

The first time Stretch heard his voice, he practically swooned. It was deep and raspy, but warm, like a crackling wood fireplace, and honestly Stretch could’ve listened to him all day long. Especially his low, gravelly chuckle. Honestly, he still didn’t even know Shade’s age, but he really didn’t care, there was such a natural flow between them, and he got the distinct impression Shade was really just an old soul.

Their friendship flourished, and despite his busy schedule, Stretch always made time to talk to Shade, enough so to warrant teasing from Alibi and his costars from the short film they were working on. And it wound up actually being some of their words that finally spurred him to action.

They’d been talking for just over a year by the time filming wrapped, so once he’d settled back in at home, one day, just before they could say their goodbyes at the end of a call, Stretch asked Shade on a date. However he wanted to do it, Stretch didn’t care, but he wanted to meet him, if Shade was up for it.

It had obviously caught him off guard, going quiet and then stuttering several attempts at varying replies until he settled on one. He wasn’t willing to travel, so it would have to be at his home, a dinner date or something, if Stretch was comfortable with that, and after they’d sorted details and Stretch had everything written down, Alibi let out a long suffering sigh when Stretch told him.

‘You mean the monster you still haven’t actually seen?’ ‘His house?’ ‘Stretch, this address is in the middle of Ebott forest.’ Stretch didn’t make his job easy, but Alibi was eventually swayed by Stretch’s sincere insistence.

Two weeks had never gone so slow, but it had at least given him time to prepare. He’d picked the perfect outfit, perfect cologne, Alibi was going to drive him there and back, so no shenanigans, not that he expected that from Shade, but eventually, the day had arrived, and Alibi was shuffling him into the car, reminding him he’d be late if he took any longer.

It was just under a two hour drive, and Alibi had made certain Stretch had an emergency escape plan if things went south. They went over it multiple times before they arrived to their destination. The trip had been scenic, to say the least, and true to Alibi’s warnings ‘isn’t this how about 17 different horror movies start?’, there was definitely no one else around for miles. Stretch made sure Alibi wasn’t going to be too terribly bored, and after several reassurances, finally got out of the car.

Shade’s house was really just…a cabin. Perhaps on the more extravagant side, but still small and rustic. He could recognize some places Shade had taken pictures of his cats in, but it looked so different cast in the twilight shadows. The wooden stairs creaked slightly underfoot, and he found himself before the door, anxiety blossoming in his soul. Finally able to meet the monster he’d been talking to for all these months, yet all he really knew about him was a nickname and that he was a skeleton (since he spoke in Papyrus font), otherwise, he could be anything. He’d had several ideas on what his mystery man might look like, with so little to go off of, but he suddenly felt ill prepared when he knocked on the thick wooden door, and a moment later, it began to open.

For starters, being as tall as he is, Stretch didn’t expect he’d have to look up. Most of Shade’s face was obscured by the doorway, but he quickly stepped back, welcoming Stretch in more quietly than he usually sounded, but his voice still comfortably familiar. Once he’d politely greeted him and stepped inside, Stretch finally got a good look at his date. Tall, incredibly so, and just as handsome. Broad shouldered, even if he did seem a little hunched in on himself, with sharp, scarred features not dissimilar to Alibi’s. The biggest difference were his eyelights, a deep crimson that nearly took Stretch’s breath away, and it was only when they flickered nervously to the side that Stretch realized how uncomfortable Shade looked. Probably because Stretch was standing there staring at him like an idiot.

Clearing his throat, Stretch offered his best casual smirk and raised a hand, greeting Shade more properly, telling him it was nice to finally meet him. After a brief, uncertain glance between Stretch’s face and his hand, Shade hesitantly took it, Stretch’s hand practically dwarfed by Shade’s, and shook his hand once, slowly, incredibly gently, like a business man afraid his partner would spontaneously shatter like glass. He returned the sentiment, pulling his hand away swiftly and turning to lead Stretch further into the house just as quickly.

The delicate handling and hasty retreat had a light little laugh bubbling out of Stretch at how…cute, Shade was. He wasn’t anything that Stretch had expected, the way he moved so carefully and quietly, the way he looked unbearably nervous, and maybe physically he resembled the part of a gruff yet lovable woodsman, but behaviorally, he really came across more of a timid hermit.

The kitchen wasn’t far from the entryway, visible when you’ve just come in even, with the house being a mostly open floor plan, but he opted to linger by the small bar dividing it from the living room as Shade hustled into the kitchen to begin shuffling through the fridge, pulling out who knows what. Whatever he’d already made smelled heavenly, and he said as much as Shade fussed with whatever he was doing, a small army of cats suddenly appearing from all over and rushing to the kitchen.

Shade hesitated, glancing back to Stretch in what looked to be surprise before continuing on with what Stretch now realized was preparing food for his cats, telling him softly what he’d made, but he stuttered before he finished, instead suddenly explaining he has to feed the cats first or all they’ll do is harass them, though it’s unusually early to be feeding them now so they’ll probably still complain later.

Stretch breathed another soft laugh, replying that it sounded like he has a whole schedule for them, Shade readily responding that it’s more like they have a schedule for him, getting a more full chuckle from Stretch.

He does his best to make small talk, and it’s clear Shade is doing his best to keep up, washing his hands quickly to show Stretch to the dining table, apologizing for not having done that first, and Stretch learned rather quickly that Shade keeps his scarf pulled up so he can tuck his face into it when he’s nervous, and it takes all of his concentration not to say out loud how adorable he thinks that is, instead trying to ease some of Shade’s concerns by reassuring him it’s fine, the whole thing is supposed to be casual, right? They’re just having dinner, not proposing, which may have been the wrong joke to make, but Stretch found it hard to regret with the way faded crimson magic bloomed across Shade’s face, ducking behind his scarf as much as he could, completely flushed as he hurried back into the kitchen.

Shade returned soon after with…two pitchers of water? He quickly explained he remembered Stretch saying he liked honey citrus, so he’d made some honey lemon infused water, but if it wasn’t any good, there was of course regular water, too, and Stretch was almost certain he could see Shade’s hands shaking as he set the pitchers down for Stretch to choose for himself, disappearing again before Stretch could say anything.

Instead of trying to reassure him again, Stretch stood, strolling back into the kitchen to offer help with the rest, catching Shade off guard to the point he just froze, looking at Stretch like a stranger had suddenly materialized in his kitchen. But only for a moment, and Stretch waited patiently until Shade wrung his hands together, quietly agreeing that that would be…alright, if he doesn’t mind. He eased up a little as Stretch approached the counter with the dishes set out, asking Shade where to start, and he took the offered distraction gratefully, softly instructing Stretch as he himself handled something else.

Stretch made the mental note that Shade seemed more comfortable when there wasn’t direct eye contact involved, so he’d have to try avoiding it, even if it was hard to stop looking over at Shade’s adorable focused little scowl. Unfortunately it was maybe a little too distracting, and he’d nearly missed the plate he was working on completely, getting rice all over the counter.

He chuckled at himself and apologized, but he wasn’t prepared for Shade to hum a contemplative sound and move behind him, wrapping his arms around Stretch to show him the correct method for plating the risotto. He seemed entirely unaware of the cliché move he was pulling, to the point when Stretch glanced back at him teasing that he must watch a lot of food network, Shade only then realized how close they were, flushing again, wide eyed, quickly backing away from Stretch until his back hit the bar, eye lights out and scarf obscuring half his face.

Stretch was quick to reassure him, trying to gently insist he didn’t need to be so anxious when Shade’s shock screwed up into a complicated frown, eyelights reappearing and shifting away as he began worrying his hands again. They were shaking, too, more noticeably than before, but before Stretch could say anything else, Shade spoke, barely above a whisper, that he hadn’t…expected Stretch to stay after he actually saw him, so he doesn’t…he wasn’t prepared for…any of this.

Finally, Stretch’s smile fell, a pang of sadness clenching his soul, along with a hint of confusion, but as he tried to smile reassuringly and remind Shade of how things between them had been until this point, he spoke again, taking Stretch by surprise. He knows Stretch is a Judge, he can tell he has LV, and he’s obviously…seen violence. He could be very dangerous, and he doesn’t understand-

But Stretch cut him off there, stating that he’s met a lot of people in his life, too many to…judge a book by its cover. Following the weak pun with a light joke that so far, he typically feels more unsafe going to a cafe than he does with Shade. But unfortunately, the other monster looked mostly unreceptive to the reassurances, eyelights back out and curling in on himself even more, arms coming up to hold himself.

Stretch moved closer, attempting to offer a hug, but Shade only pulled further in on himself still, asking him not to. So they stood together, leaned back against the bar, Stretch humming distractedly while Shade tried to steady his breathing. It was several minutes until Shade took a shaky breath, chastising himself and moving back to the counter, insisting the food would get cold. Stretch breathed a soft laugh and followed suit, helping him move the plates to the dining table, pouring a glass of water for Shade, too, and offering more casual conversation as a means of distraction.

It wasn’t long before the brief panic was replaced with pleasant conversation, Shade easing more as Stretch kept things light and easy, filling most of the space for conversation himself and avoiding too much eye contact. He was good at all this social stuff from all the years of practice, but he found it much more enjoyable when he didn’t feel pressured to talk about specific things, in a specific way. And Shade seemed much more comfortable without much of the attention on himself.

The food was fantastic, even better than it smelled if that was possible, and Shade had even made a special dessert for him that he’d mentioned liking a while back, explaining that he hadn’t known how to make it, so he’d had to practice a few times (blushing that beautiful dusty rose color), and that, too, was amazing, of course.

After dinner, Stretch insisted on helping Shade tidy, Shade eased enough to even trade a few quips with him as they worked to put everything away, and it started to feel more like their more usual conversations, more comfortable.

Once they were done, they moved out to the living room, Stretch joking that he’d underestimated what Shade meant when he’d said he doesn’t watch movies, considering he doesn’t even have a television. It got Shade to blush again, and he huffed a soft laugh, correcting that he did have one, he just uses it so rarely it’s in the wardrobe for safe keeping, which got Stretch to laugh, which got Shade’s blush to deepen slightly, and finally Stretch asked what they’d be doing now, then.

Shade cleared his throat and told Stretch he hadn’t planned this far ahead, ducking into his scarf again to admit that he had gotten an idea a few moments ago, though, if Stretch would be…comfortable, with it. And as warmly as ever, Stretch encouraged Shade to tell him, and so he did, confessing softly that the idea was simply to sit on the couch and watch the stars through the skylights.

It technically wasn’t possible, but Stretch was certain he felt his soul literally swell with affection, agreeing softly that he would love that. So Shade moved to the aforementioned wardrobe and pulled out a very thick, soft looking blanket, returning and…getting a stepladder from the small kitchen closet?

Even despite how tall the ceilings were, with the stepladder, Shade could easily reach them, and much to Stretch’s amazement, began adjusting the large sliding blocks separating the skylights until it was just one, larger window. It was absolutely breathtaking, and Shade hadn’t been exaggerating about how he skies were here. He put the ladder aside and returned to Stretch, who was quick to guide him down to he couch, adjusting the blanket together until they were both tucked underneath it, snuggly fit against each other like perfect little puzzle pieces. Shade was so warm, and the sky was so beautiful…he was so beautiful, when Stretch finally tore his eyes from the window. Shade was watching with such a gentle wonderment, looking so beautiful that Stretch had the bizarre, thrilling, terrifying realization that he must be in love, because a feeling like this couldn’t be anything else. But he knew he couldn’t stare, or Shade would notice, and he didn’t want to do anything that could ruin this moment, so he snuggled closer and fixed his eyes on the window for who knows how long, not even realizing how heavy his eyelids felt until they were blinking back open.

He’d fallen asleep.

It was still dark out, but much to his dismay, Shade had fallen asleep, too, his head gently leaning against Stretch’s own. He looked so peaceful, it physically pained Stretch to wake him, but he didn’t have a choice. He didn’t want Alibi kicking the door down to rescue him and scaring the lights of of Shade. He was as careful as possible, repositioning Shade to be leaned against the couch, and of course he stirred, but thank the angel he didn’t really fully wake, so Stretch whispered that he’d let himself out, thanking him and placing a gentle kiss to Shade’s forehead before making his way as quietly as possible to the door.

Alibi was, as always, still waiting patiently for him. It was nearly 2am, and he apologized profusely, explaining he’d fallen asleep, but Alibi brushed the apologies off, insisting it’s all part of the job, just glad Stretch was alright and not bound and gagged in a secret shed basement. It got a proper laugh from Stretch, who took the opportunity to start gushing about the date as Alibi began pulling out of the gravel driveway and returning to the barely there road back to society. He even confessed he thinks it might be love, getting some teasing for that, but even Alibi admitted that there was something about Stretch that just seems to glow after he’s talked with Shade, so maybe…maybe it is.

Aaaaand that’s as far as I’ve gotten with this idea, as far as writing it down goes. I have a lot more actually figured out, but yeah! It’s certainly something I’d like to write out more properly eventually, but who knows……

(TrF + Alibi belong to @ cyosecret and I’ve gotten permission to share this!!)

[genuflectx]

Axiom’s End

This is a little review of an AMAZING book I just finished reading that exophilia lovers (and just sci-fi lovers in general) may enjoy to get in on, if not already! 

Parts of this review will have spoilers, but I will place the spoilery review under a cut (though some basic plot premises are discussed before the cut, they are not major spoilers)! So if you want a quick review read on, and for the more detailed spoilery review check under the cut. It includes a small snip of one page of the book to hopefully entice you.

When it comes to books my search for truly engaging alien novels has been... a waste of time at best. And this story here simply didn’t pop up under my searches for, er, alien human romance novels, so you likely won’t find it by searching that either. I only discovered it by seeing the sparse fanart of it on Tumblr, which made me read it’s synopsis on wikipedia and wonder how on EARTH I had not come across this yet, as a terato blog.

So, Axiom’s End is a first contact story, but it is character driven, and all the characters (especially the main cast) are emotional and well developed. However I have a warning some may want to heed; it is existential and is aware of it. If you can’t handle a heavy feeling of dread, which several chapters tend to exude, might not be the story for you.

Do you like creepy, deathly still dragon-insect-robots with questionable morals staring you down? Ohhh boy, I sure do. The main alien character, Ampersand, and his species, are not humanoid. They are in the sense of having two arms two legs two eyes, etc, but otherwise are distinctly different and alien and- did I mention Ampersand is 9 feet tall? And some of his species are even taller? Woof. There aren’t any re-colored humans with four arms and a six pack here.

Through the story the main human Cora plays as Ampersand’s interpreter, being the only one who has the means to understand him. That means they are required to be rather... close. The juxtaposition between her human inflections and idea of ethics greatly clashes with Ampersand’s own blunt way of speaking and concept of right or wrong. When you’ve lived so many hundreds of years and have advanced nearly beyond comprehension that’ll do it to ya. How she and the alien get along and what the talk about is something I’ll leave under the cut. All you need to know is I friggin’ loved it. Best thing yet, book 2 comes out this October and is open for preorder!!

NOW, SPOILER TIME:

^ Random page of the book of Cora and Ampersand speaking. ^

Ellis wanted to make this species nearly incomprehensible to human values, and god did she do it, and somehow even managed to do it while still making you love-hate them. Ampersand (and by extension his people) are so clinical and “logical” that they will lie by omission and not say sorry when found out, because if it benefited him why should he? Though we don’t dig into the other aliens’ personalities much, so I’ll focus on Amper.

Ampersand is hundreds and hundreds of years old, living through torture, surviving an alien planet, suffering the feeling of death when Cefo killed himself (and, later, when the 2nd one dies). He is, beneath a cold exterior, damaged and emotional, perhaps at first even attempting to pretend he wasn’t (through cold indifference) until Cora challenged him. He is manipulative, a walking contradiction, and at the end of it all, hiding his vulnerability. As an example, at one part closer to the end he lashes out when Cora is angry at him, and later expresses, to the best of his species abilities, a regret for his anger. So he KNOWS he has emotional flaws, but doesn’t start really admitting them till maybe ehh 75% into the book, roughly.

As we move through the story he goes from being so afraid of Cora that he keeps a ten foot distance and freezes when she looks at him, to not needing to be told twice before curling up beside her on a hospital bed. Even if he didn’t see humans as persons, he clearly did not want the planet to be destroyed by his people, and that does show a level of empathy for humans outside of Cora. Or... it could all be coldly logical to him (humans pose no real threat, thus, it would be illogical to warrant a genocide of the Earth- or is that just what he might tell himself?).

As you read you’ll begin to feel like Cora. The back and forth feeling of wanting to know more, of wanting to apply humanity to Ampersand and his people, but then getting ice water in your face when his actions remind you that he is in no way human. We may never fully understand the depth or shallowness of his empathy, and perhaps the closest thing comes in his immediate response to Cora of I do value you and his carefulness with petting her to comfort her. Though, even then, this statement does not express clear cut emotion. “Value” to Ampersand is not “value” to a human. Is she valued as a thing/asset or as a person? 

Also to make this clear since you came all this way for spoilers. Though I don’t know just how deeply it goes, or how synonymous it is to human romantic relationships, Cora and Ampersand become a thing by the end. The closest they could come to a romantic relationship, at least, with Ampersand bonding to Cora and snuggling up with her on a bed. 

I yap about Ampersand enough (he’s cool but not the only main character!!). Cora has her own traumas and issues outside of Ampersand. I imagine they will be expanded further in the second book, as in the first book her family trauma is mostly directed around she and her aunt. She had feelings and painful memories of her father, but in book 1 her father is a distant person, affecting the course of the story but she’s too far away (and busy) to have the means to confront him. And the rest of her family are in custody till the end, leaving them as a motivation for Cora, though nothing she can deal with immediately due to their distance. So while she has a LOT to go through book one is very alien-focused, with parts dedicated to Cora and her aunt, and her father as a far-off figure who changes the story but is never directly there in front of Cora. However, with the synopsis of book 2 already out, it’s clear her father may become even more of a plot point, with Cora being made to meet Nils’s informant.

Not only do I love this story as a terato fan, but it’s the only book I have devoured in three days. It kept me wanting to know what would happen next because I was so attached to everyone. Ellis is very thorough and this world is huge- a cumulation of a 10 year old story she’s had, only come to fruition in 2020. I CANNOT wait for book two! It comes out THIS OCTOBER and I will absolutely be pre-ording it!!

[sea-owl]

So I have a potential answer for this. From what I saw, Edwina's anger is not because Kate was in love with Anthony. Edwina's anger actually stems from her love for Kate and that Kate hurt her.

In the beginning of the season we are shown that the Sharma sisters do genuinely love one another and are very close. One could make an argument that they're best friends, especially from Edwina's perspective. Yes they both have their responsibilities for their family that I do believe influences their decisions. But we do see they do love one another. They way they hold one another at their first ball of the season. Edwina valuing Kate's opinion above all else, Edwina wanting Kate to find a love match herself in the haldi scene, and Kate wanting to see her sister's dream of a love match come true.

Now what we are seeing throughout the season is a rough patch in Kate and Edwina's relationship as they both are learning who they are without the other, and the family dynamics that has been built up since the death of their father. Kate has been putting a mask up around Edwina and throughout the season that mask has been chipping away for Edwina to see underneath.

That mask explodes the night of the Sheffield dinner. Edwina sees and learns, with emotions running high, right then and there of the secrets Kate has been keeping. In Edwina's point of view she just learned that the person she loved and trusted most in the world didn't trust her. I will admit I don't remember what Kate said of Edwina's dowery if she said anything at all, but by the shock of learning she was getting it from the Sheffields with conditions means Kate was lying to Edwina and Mary even if by omission. This lie, a huge one at that, along with the potential knowledge that had this beem successful that she would lose her sister, hurts Edwina.

After this, I do believe Edwina does start having doubts in Kate, and her blind faith has been shaken. That shaken faith ultimately leads Edwina to her realization at the wedding. But the girls make up Kate promises no more secrets.

Enter the wedding and Edwina's realization. Edwina learned with an audience that Kate had lied to her and kept another secret again after just promising her that there was no more secrets. We are seeing Edwina at her breaking point and we are seeing her lash out. Was the half sister comment hurtful to Kate? Yes. But Edwina was hurt by Kate too. Someone she loved deeply hurt her, she wouldn't be that angry if she didn't love Kate.

Now, I do believe it was dragged out for drama because Shondaland loves their drama, but Edwina also needed time to process and work through everything. Her whole worldview just crashed, and the image she had of her beloved sister was broken.

And we do see that once Edwina's had time, she's chill about kathony, encourages it even. Her change in emotions at the accident more has to do that while yes, she is mad at Kate she still loves her and does not wish to see her dead. The fear of losing her sister outweighed her anger.

Kate, while I do love her and empathize with her as a parentified eldest daughter, has made mistakes. Her biggest one is not trusting her family and not giving them the information needed to make an informed decision. This is ultimately what led to things blowing up in her face and that fight with Edwina. Now again the Sharma sisters do love one another, Kate's decisions are made out of love. But you can have all the love and all the best intentions and still hurt that loved one.

That hurt and love Edwina felt towards Kate is what led to her anger and anger born from that combo, in my opinion, tends to last longer.

Maybe someone can enlighten me or explain other ideas/opinions about this, but I rewatched season 2 and I just cannot see why Edwina is SO angry with Kate to the point where she keeps spurning her and making her seem like this ultimate villain that like committed arson and murder against her??? All because she had feelings for the viscount but never actually acted upon them and was going to rid herself of the situation entirely so that nothing would ever occur?? Kate explains that she did everything and sacrificed basically her own happiness so that Edwina would not have to face hardships and Edwina basically takes it as “so you pity me and think I can’t make my own decisions?” and I just don’t know how she drew that conclusion from everything Kate said 😭 I know Edwina also has a lot of pressure on her to help her family, and I get that she felt herself to be in love with the viscount and everything, but why would you still scorn Kate after she admitted that even though she did have feelings for the viscount, she was going to put that aside for your own happiness and so you could live comfortably with a good man. I know they make up in the end but I can’t help but resent the way Edwina and Kates relationship was written for the show compared to the books. It felt like an almost unnecessary and a bit forced conflict towards the end. Like, yes, Edwina had every right to be upset her wedding wasn’t what she wanted and that her love interest wasn’t actually in love with her but to make it seem like it was all Kates’s fault and no one else’s seemed a bit ridiculous in my opinion.

[outrebanx]

don’t feel (3)

JJ Maybank x female reader

Masterlist

Part one // Part two // — // Part four

Summary: JJ comes to check on you after the disastrous kegger, finding you doing chores in the early hours of the morning

Word count: 1.9k (shorter than the others as its more of a filler chapter)

Warnings: abuse, mentions of abuse, blood, swearing, (nothing else?)

——- I am in no way romanticising abuse if you have any issues with my writing pls message me

A/N: this isnt my best i’m sorry but reading through it i wasn’t sure where to change it, and because its acting as more of a filler it’s not hugely important anyway - but next part should be all fluff i hope so i’m looking forward to writing it :)) // as always feedback is appreciated

“I can explain!” You exclaimed, hands out defensively as your parents stood up from your bed.

Both your mum and dad crossed their arms, the tapping of your mum’s foot being the only noice in the room for a few seconds, “Okay then young lady, explain.” Your mum said expectantly.

“I needed some fresh air, and I knew you were asleep downstairs mum,” you looked at the floor away from her piercing gaze, “so I didn’t want to wake you and left through my window I’m sorry.”

“You ‘went out for some air’ looking like that?” Your dad waved his hand at your outfit and ruined makeup, his eyebrows raised.

“I- um, was wearing this already and I was upset.” You knew your excuse was getting progressively worse, the lies you were telling getting harder and harder to believe, but you still wanted to try.

Without warning your mum’s hand connected with your face, “Don’t lie to us! We’re not stupid.”

You cupped your face in shock, trying to hold back the tears that were already threatening to spill out of your eyes. “I’m sorry, what can I do to make up for it?”

“Stop lying to us for one you little bitch.” Your dad spat at you, grabbing your wrist in an excruciatingly tight grip.

Your mum nodded her agreement, not even caring about the look of pain on your face as your dad began dragging you along towards the bathroom.

“Get cleaned up and then go and clean the pool.”

“But its the middle of the night-“

“You said you wanted some fresh air didn’t you? At leat you’re being helpful by doing this.” He shoved you into the bathroom, ignoring the way you tripped over your feet and fell, hitting the edge of the sink with your head on the way down.

The door slammed behind you, and just like that, the floodgates seemed to open for what felt like the fiftieth time that night. How do you have enough water left in your body for even more crying?

You lifted your hand up to where it had come into contact with the sink, pulling back when you felt a warm liquid, and even though your vision was blurry from the tears - it was obvious it was blood.

“Shit.” You reached for the sink, pulling yourself up from the floor so you could properly look into the mirror behind it.

Realising you had to fix this up before it got worse, you ran the tap, splashing some cold water on your face to get rid of some of the make up and combat the tears, and went into the cupboard searching for a clean piece of cloth to hold up against the wound.

Standing in front of the mirror, a small towel held up against the cut to stop the bleeding, you examined yourself and the only words that could describe you right now was ‘a fucking mess’.

After several minutes you removed the towel, happy to see that the bleeding had slowed almost completely, and so began clearing the rest of yourself up, starting with removing the make up stains across your whole face. Once you felt and looked less like someone who had been crying for the whole night, you quietly left the bathroom and changed into some leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. You didn’t want to go and do some chores at this time of night but you weren’t going to upset your parents again as they had almost gone easy on you tonight.

Heading downstairs you heard your parent’s bedroom door shut, one of them had probably been waiting to make sure you go outside.

You had never liked the shed where all the pool cleaning stuff was stored, it was something about the spiders that lived in there that had always freaked you out, scared one would fall on you if you moved something. Taking a few deep breaths to try and prepare yourself, you stepped into the small wooden building, sidestepping over a broken spade and grabbed the equipment you needed.

Your pool wasn’t huge like some on this street, but it was still big enough to be a pain in the ass to clean, you threw the equipment on the floor, grabbing a net to remove all the leaves and bugs that had fallen into the water and began the cleaning process.

It took about 10 minutes to remove all the debris, and as you turned your attention to brushing some dirt off the walls, you heard movement behind you. In most situations you would assume this was one of your parents, but for once without a doubt you knew it wasn’t them as you were facing the house and there had been no movement inside.

Your heart was racing, this was like some sort of crime show where you get murdered and left to bleed out in your pool - no you weren’t going to let your thoughts head down that road, it was probably a cat or something, yeah something harmless, you slowly began to convince yourself.

You began to turn around, the brush you were holding close to your chest ready for its debut as a weapon if needed, when your heart leapt out of your skin at the tall figure you were met with.

As you lifted the brush, ready to strike, you realised you knew the figure, his deep blue eyes staring at you, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“What the fuck!” You say, wary you can’t be any louder in case your parents hear, “Did you follow me home or something?”

He held up his hands in surrender, “I didn’t follow you home, but I might’ve asked someone where you lived.”

“That’s not any less creepy JJ if I’m being honest - why did you come to my house?”

“Well I was going to make sure you were okay and maybe play out a rom com situation where I talk to you at your window, but instead it seems to be one of the classic porn scenarios, not that I’m complaining.” He smirked at you.

You roll your eyes in disgust, “Get your head out the gutter. And as you can see I’m fine so please leave.”

“I hear you say fine, but it’s the early hours of the morning and you’re cleaning a pool, as well as some sort of head injury that I can feel by the way, so I’m going with you’re not fine.” He raises his eyebrows at you in question.

Fuck, you’d forgotten about that recent development, annoyed there was now someone you could never hide your pain from, for better or worse.

“I’m cleaning because after my disaster of a night, I couldn’t get to sleep so I thought this would help clear my mind, and its a small cut from where I fell in the bathroom and hit my head because I’m clumsy. That good enough for you?” You were almost proud of how easily you could lie to people, but in fairness you had fell in the bathroom so that one wasn’t exactly a lie, more of an omission of the whole truth.

JJ nodded to himself, “We’re gonna have to talk about it at some point.”

“Talk about what?” You asked, worried he might’ve not believed what you’d said and was making theories about your home life.

“The soulmate thing.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, “yeah probably, although there’s not much to say.”

He let out a small chuckle, “Well this is going to be harder than I thought, you’re not one for being emotional and open are you?”

“Not really no,” you couldn’t help but laugh a little at yourself, “but I understand we might need to get to know each other now.”

“Great.” He stepped towards you, smiling, “Should we start now?”

“We’ve already clarified I’m cleaning a pool, do you need your eyes checked or something?”

He raised his eyebrows at the way your words dripped with sarcasm, “I think my eyes are fine baby, I guess we’ll have to reschedule to tomorrow then.”

“I guess we do.” You respond, trying to ignore the way your stomach fluttered when he called you baby, especially because he was clearly trying to get a rise out of you.

“Alright, can you surf?”

“How will that help us to get to know each other?”

“You learn a lot surfing with someone, and it means we spend most of the day together - so can you surf?”

You consider telling him that you couldn’t, but you were actually pretty good and this could be an opportunity to show him up - and because he was your soulmate you really did want to get to know him, you were just too stubborn to admit it at the moment.

“Yeah I can blondie, hope you’re ready to be put to shame.” You laughed.

“Oh I cant wait,” he smiled at you, “I’ll meet you at the beach at ten?”

“Ten’s good for me, and hey maybe we’ll both actually sleep before then.”

“Alright,” he looked like he wanted to step closer to you but instead settled on a small wave, “I’ll see you then.”

He gave you one last smile before turning away and heading back out of your garden, and as you watched him leave and thought about your “date” tomorrow your heart quickened.

——

As JJ walked away from you he smiled to himself, he had never met someone like you - anyone he’d ever been with he either hadn’t got to know or they didn’t excite him in the way he wanted. The only person he’d ever considered to date was Kie as she knew some of the darkest things about him and stayed around and she joked around with him nicely, but he realised pretty quickly that she was better to have as a friend.

He’d only ever seen you a few times, and in the past week or so at that, but he was loving every minute he spent with you - your fiery attitude and sarcasm seemed to compliment his personality pretty well. And god when you laughed, he felt like there was nothing bad in the world and he wanted to do everything in his power to make you laugh, hopefully brightening your day and definitely making his day better.

There was one thing that he was worried about though, which was you seemed to be injured as often as he was, and you definitely weren’t going to be open about in the same way he hated talking about his dad. What if your family life wasn’t great either? If that was the case, it’d be hard for either of you to heal in the way you wanted with reminders of other people hurting someone you loved.

Loved. He couldn’t believe he was already thinking about that when he barely knew you and was terrified of love and the thought that people wouldn’t love him back. But he’d be an idiot if he let this opportunity pass him by self sabotaging the relationship.

So, with a slight spring in his step at the thought of your date tomorrow, he walked to the chateau, keeping the image of you laughing at the front of his mind.

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