#so while I don't think they're all going to make it to the end intact

[heartfullofleeches]

[Angst]

Childhood Best Friends with a small age gap- two or three years, nothing crazy- but it means everything as they age.

It was hard for them to make friends their age when you first met. They liked things that were too "childish" for their peers - things another child who lived not to far away adored. They'd seen each other on the way to school, but they didn't interact frequently due to their difference in grade.

Until that day-

"Whoa...Cool backpack. You like that show too?"

"Thanks... I'm thinking of getting a new one though... Do you want me to ask my parents if you can have it?"

"What?! It looks fine to me... Why are you getting rid of it?"

"My friends called me a baby... I won't be able to go back to class without everyone laughing at me unless I get a better one."

"That's silly!.... It's on right now... Wanna watch it with me?"

The two were inseparable from then on- School hindered the time they had to see each other each morning, but as soon as it let out - both ran to meet with their new best friend. The elder of the pair was often mocked and teased for their choice, but they could hardly care anymore. They had someone who'd stick by their side to the very end - childish fixations and all.

Years went on and they made new friends. It happens. More obstacles began piling up throughout - chipping away at the few hours they scarcely had to begin with. Studying, Hobbies, balancing days between hanging out with other friend groups and the person who once meant the world. They tried to make things works, but nothing went to plan-

"Is it alright if Y/n comes with us tonight?"

"Y/N? Aren't they're too young to see this movie? We shouldn't be responsible if they have night terrors or something.."

"They aren't that young... Are they?"

They never thought about it before. You were so close in age as kids it never hit them that as you grew that little gap drew a bridge between you - and it was easier to let you go than finding an alternative.

"Hey, Dude! Are we still on for this weekend? I can't believe they're making a reboot after all this time!.."

"Are my messages going through? You haven't responded in a while... I saw you outside school yesterday and yelled your name, but....."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Hey."

"You're hanging out with them today? Did you forget about my birthday?...."

"You removed me off your list of friends...We're still friends, right?"

"Let me alone. I'm sick of being your babysitter. Go find friends your own age and stay away from mine."

And that was the end of things.

College cames around and their live became relatively tame. Their thoughts drifted to that childhood friend of theirs every now and again, but between school and partying with the new friends they had made - those memories faded to the back of their mind.

An acquaintance asks them to help show some new faces around the campus. One sticks out to them amongst the crowd. It's you. What do they say to you after all these years? You don't look sad to see them. Nor angry. Intact - you look..

Relieved.

Pulling them aside at the end of the tour, you free yourself from the burden that's weighted down on you since they left you.

"I'm sorry."

"It was never my intention to hold you back. Overtime I realized I was just that annoying kid who clung onto you because I thought you were my first and only friend...When you never felt that way about me. I'm sorry for taking that away from you. If our paths cross again, I promise I won't even look at you."

After being abandoned by your best friend- the person you looked up to most, you matured well beyond your years in hopes that would make you like them again. Overtime, you gave up that goal, but others could see how you've changed.

"Isn't that.... Y/n?.."

"Oh, man- It is! You guys were glued at the hip before we became teens."

"They're..kinda cute... Do you still have their number?"

All this time apart, a feeling long forgotten resurged inside them. The need to protect you. You didn't know these people like they did. You shouldn't be going to parties with them, getting to know and befriend them. They'll only hurt you - worse than they had. They never should have said goodbye to you- They should have allowed the feelings they were so scared to have, but had always been there develop and blossom naturally until you both were adults ready to move on to that stage in your friendship.

They know you best. No matter how much you grow as a person, you're still the same.

"That's a cute Keychain, Y/n!"

"Thanks! I've loved this show since I was a kid!"

They'll prove it to you.

[psychotrenny]

There's a real unearned confidence to the way that Social Democrats talk about their ideology, like they've cracked the code and found the perfect way forward and the only reason people disagree is because they're misguided or evil. Like they'll correctly point out problems within Neoliberal Capitalism before spouting some absolute nonsense about how uniquely evil and dysfunctional Communism was (nearly always in the past tense too; they take it for granted that the end of the USSR was the end of all Communism) and then going "Don't worry though, there's a third way; a mixed regulated economy. We can have a free market in consumer goods while making sure that corporations pay their fair share in wages and taxes that can fund the welfare that looks after everyone". And like putting aside the fact that such a model relies on the super-profits of imperialist exploitation to actually function, and the inherent instability of an arrangement where the Bourgeoisie make concessions even while maintaining ultimate control of the economy, there's the simple fact that much of the Imperial Core did indeed had Social Democracy but does not anymore.

Like these Social Democrats never think about why that might be, why their ideology failed and what they can learn from it going forward. They just act as though some dumb individuals (i.e. Ronald Reagan, Milton Friedman etc.) managed to slip into power and make bad decisions and like the best way to fix this is to vote good people in who'll change it back. Like hell a lot of these people take the previous existence of these policies as like a good point, the whole "We had them before so we aren't being radical by wanting them back. We don't want anything crazy we just wanna bring back The New Deal or Keynesian Economic policy or whatever". There's never any thought about why those policies failed (how often do you hear these people even talk about "stagflation" or "the oil crisis" let alone the impact of the fall of the soviet union) and what implications this might have on the viability of bringing it back. They also love talking about how Social Democratic institutions are still largely intact in the Scandinavian countries, but rather than even consider what specific factors in their political-economic situation led to this these people just go "Damn isn't Sweden great. Why aren't we doing exactly what they do?"

And sure some people might compare this to Marxism-Leninism, the whole "trying to bring back a defeated ideology", but for one it's stupid to treat the dissolution of the USSR as the end of Communism as a global political force. It may have been a major blow, but even if you write off like Cuba and Vietnam as too small and insignificant to matter you can't just fucking ignore that over 1/6 of the world's population continues live under a Marxist Leninist party. Whatever concessions these countries may have made to global Capitalism, it's just plain ignorant to act as though Communism suffered anywhere near the humiliating loss of global power and credibility that Social Democracy has. Sure the latter may be more politically acceptable to toy with in "The West", but "The Western World" ≠ The Entire World. Also, nearly every ML on the planet is painfully aware that Soviet Communism collapsed and that it collapsed for a reason. There might be plenty of contention about why exactly it died and what exactly we can learn from this, but nearly everyone agrees that we need to learn and ideologically grow. No serious Communist wants to "bring back the USSR" in the same way that many Social Democrats want to "bring back The Welfare State". Far from being a form of "best of both worlds" mixed economy, Social Democracy is nothing more than a flimsy tool to stabilise Imperialist Capitalism at its moments of greatest strain. And if people are still gonna promote it wholeheartedly as the best possible solution, I wish they'd be a little less arrogant about it. It's not as though they have history on their side

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 31: Warmth

You cope with the aftermath of patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-30 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Fall out from canon-typical violence. Plot points from TLOU2. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8k

A/N: Hi y'all. This does have a continuation of the spoilers from TLOU2. Again, I'm so sorry for not warning about these further in advance. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a DM (or you can always yell in the comments or in my asks. I don't delete things if they're not the kindest so I'll leave whatever you want to send my way up, I totally get it.) Thanks for being here ❤️

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It shouldn’t be this hard to stay conscious when the world is ending. 

You’d had the thought before, in the early days of the outbreak. When you were trying to find someplace safe and had no idea where to start, when you were just riding and riding and hoping you’d be alive to see the next morning. 

But now was different. It wasn’t your life, it was Joel’s. His was so much more important than your own and the fear of losing him was keeping you awake. You’d nod off for a second - you thought, anyway - only to jerk back awake when your grip on his wrist slipped and his pulse wasn’t a constant - if weak - drumbeat below your fingers. 

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d been on the floor with him. Things were fuzzy. You’d lost a lot of blood, you were familiar with that sensation now, you could identify it even as your mind was foggy. You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened. You remembered Joel screaming - you didn’t think you’d ever forget that horrific sound - and running to find him. You remembered watching as that girl swung the golf club down on his body. It wasn’t until you were already in the room, fighting for control of your gun with someone who looked like he was about Ellie’s age that you realized this was probably a mistake. You’d charged in without a plan to get backup, you were hugely outnumbered, no one knew where the fuck you were. You should have at least gone back for your horse, you were pretty sure she could have fit down here and you could have used sheer size and weight to clear the room. 

But they were killing him. That’s all that could force that sound from someone, life and death, and you couldn’t risk it. If there was a chance, even a tiny one, that you could save him, you were going to take it. Even if it killed you, you were going to take it. 

The threat was gone now - or you hoped it was, at least. Gatling was still on guard. You could feel how tense she was behind you, her body engaged and ready to strike. If they came back armed to the teeth before help arrived, though, you’d be finished. 

Joel’s wrist, the one you’d been holding, relaxed some and you forced yourself to sit up. 

“Joel?” You managed, adjusting your hold on him. His whole arm was limp now. Your heart beat faster. You released his wrist and pressed your fingers into his neck, where you liked to kiss him and feel the vital thrum of his pulse through his skin. It was faint but it was there. You adjusted yourself, propping yourself up on your elbow as your cut side screamed in pain, and you ran your fingers through his hair. You took comfort in the fact that you still could do that. While the rest of his body had been brutalized, Joel’s head was intact outside of where it looked like someone had landed a punch on his cheek near his eye, a bruise blossoming on his skin but no blood shed. It was like the girl had been saving his head for last, like she was trying to draw it out, make sure he was alive and awake while she hurt him. It turned your stomach. 

“You’re OK Joel,” you held face gently in your hand. “Gonna get you out of here, get you back to Ellie. You’re OK.” 

You stayed propped up like that for a while, just talking to him and running your fingers gently through his hair and feeling his breath on your skin until you were too weak to hold yourself up anymore. You collapsed alongside him then, trying to shield his body with yours as much as you could in case the people came back. 

Just a little sleep. That’s all. That’s what you needed, just enough rest to be able to think straight. Then you could figure out how to get Tommy and Joel back to Jackson. 

“Gatling,” you managed before you passed out. “Guard.” 

You woke up to snarling. 

Your head was swimming and you could feel the strength of the dog at your side, her body pressed back against you as she growled and barked. You tried to get your bearings as quickly as you could, fumbling for the rifles you’d brought to Joel’s side. 

“Bambi!” You recognized Ellie’s voice. “Bambi, call off Gatling, she won’t listen to me, we can’t get close enough…” 

“Gatling,” you gritted your teeth, your cut side burning and pulling as you tried to sit up. “Down.” 

You felt her relax and she gave a little whine before curling up against you and giving you a lick. You managed to prop yourself up on your uninjured side, eyes fighting to focus as Ellie, Jesse, Julie and Gene came in. Ellie ran for Joel, Gatling giving a little whine as she tracked her with her eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” Gene said as he got a good look at Joel. 

“He’s alive,” Ellie said, her voice cracking. “I thought…” 

“I know,” you adjusted so you could see him, check on his bandages. Your side protested, damaged skin pulling painfully. “But we have to get him to the doctor, we have to move him now…” 

“I don’t know that we can,” Gene knelt next to Ellie, looking Joel up and down. 

You frowned. 

“The fuck do you mean you don’t know.” 

“I mean,” he said gently. “We need to move quick, already been here too long, and we only have so many hands. I don’t know that he can make it back to Jackson and we should focus on…” 

“Fuck you,” your teeth were clenched, sweat starting at your temples from the strain of sitting upright. “We are not just gonna leave him out here…” 

“If we can save you and Tommy?” Gene said. “Then that’s what we should do. That’s what he’d want.” 

“Fuck you!” Ellie looked murderous. “Bambi’s right…” 

“C’mon,” Julie’s hands gently enveloped your shoulders. “Let’s try to get you up…” 

“I’m not going!” You wrenched yourself out of her grip and cried out in pain, a gush of blood coming from the wound at your side. “I’m not going without him, I’m not leaving him here!” 

Julie’s hands were on you again but you pulled yourself free, forcing yourself to your knees. 

“You’re gonna get yourself hurt,” Gene warned, moving for you, too, but you ignored him. 

“Gatling!” You managed through clenched teeth. Her head sprang up. “Guard!” 

She jumped to her feet and jumped between you and Gene. 

“Bambi,” he said cautiously, hands up, as your dog snapped her jaws and snarled at him. 

“I’m not going anywhere without him,” you were panting for breath. “You can’t make me, not with her like this. She’ll kill you and I’ll fuckin’ let her. Take him. Now.” 

Gene looked back at Jesse, who was helping Tommy sit up. He just shrugged. Gene looked back to you. 

“Fine,” he said. “But you gotta give us some space to work, can’t move him with her like this…” 

You struggled to your feet, using Julie’s shoulder as leverage, and you limped to the wall, all but collapsing against it. Gatling stayed on you, staring Gene down, seeming to trust Julie as you leaned against her. 

“She’s guardin’ me,” you said. “Won’t bother you over there. Move him. Do it.” 

You watched as Gene, Jesse and Ellie got Joel off the floor and out of the room. There was a perverse spot on the ground where his body had been, his blood pooled there. There was so much of it, so much it didn’t seem like there would be any left inside of him. You remembered, suddenly, Justin on the night of the outbreak. How you’d tried to put his blood back inside of him in the hopes that it would save him. How could you save the man you loved if all his blood was on the floor? 

“He’s alive?” Tommy asked from his place propped against the wall. There was a streak of blood down his face. 

“He’s alive,” you said. He closed his eyes and nodded, leaning his head against the wall. 

“Thank you,” he said, quietly enough that you could barely hear him. “I can’t…” 

“It’s OK,” you said. “We’ll get him back. He’ll be OK. He will.” 

You weren’t sure you believed it.

Jesse came back down and helped Tommy up before stopping near the door, keeping a safe distance from you and Gatling. 

“We got him on a horse,” he said. “We gotta move.” 

You gave him a nod and watched him get Tommy started on the stairs before you looked down at Gatling, her body drawn tight, ready to spring into action. 

“Gatling. Heel.” 

She looked up at you, muscle relaxing, and licked her lips. 

“You’re a good girl,” you said, trying to imbue as much praise into your voice as you could manage. “You did real good.” 

She wagged a little uncertainly and watched, waiting to follow you. Julie looped your arm around her shoulders while hers slipped around your waist and she helped you toward the stairs, taking it slow. You had to stop and rest once, not able to breathe, the warm gush of your blood when you pulled the air down low in your lungs making your head spin. 

“Think you can make it?” Julie asked, concerned. 

You nodded, wincing. 

“I’ll make it,” you said. “I know, we have to move.” 

She held you a little tighter and the cold air burned your lungs when you made it outside. Joel was draped over Ares, Gene mounted up behind him. Tommy was on his own horse, blood still on his face as he stared blankly at Joel’s limp body. 

“You can ride with me,” Julie said but you shook your head. You weren’t about to not be in control of a horse, not in this situation. You needed to have the power if something went wrong. You couldn’t trust anyone else to make Joel a priority if there were infected or raiders or, worst of all, the people who had attacked him to begin with. You needed to be able to move to protect him. 

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth, even though you knew getting on Renaissance was going to hurt something fierce. “Don’t need to be slowin’ us down any more by putting two of us on a horse.” 

She went to protest but you pulled away from her and swallowed the sounds of your pain as you went to Renaissance and pulled yourself onto her. You called Gatling onto your saddle, too, and she settled there, still on high alert. You guided the horse to be alongside Gene and Joel and stared Gene down, almost daring him to fight you on it. 

“I want to get everyone back,” he said gently. “But if it’s not everyone, I want as many as I can get.” 

“Then let’s go,” you bit out. 

The ride back to Jackson felt long, longer than it really was, you were sure. Every step Renaissance made was painful. It was hard to stay conscious when you’d lost so much blood and the pain was blinding. You were terrified that something was going to happen, that someone was going to pick now to attack people from Jackson and that you wouldn’t be strong enough to save Joel. The thought was constant and overbearing, hollowing out your chest and making your stomach clench. 

By the time the walls of the city were in view, you were barely able to stay on your horse. Dina had ridden ahead to tell the doctors and the council what was happening and you were thankful for it as your head spun and vision grew spotty as you neared the gates. You were too out of it to notice that someone was there to catch you as your strength started to give out.

“Woah there!” You vaguely recognized Ryan, a guard you regularly saw when he went out on patrol, stomach turning as he lowered you to the snow. “Hey Doc! Got one here!” 

“No,” you shook your head, words starting to slur. The blood on your clothes was cold against your skin. “M’fine… Joel, need to help Joel…” 

“They’re getting him,” he said, looking down at you. He had a nice face, you thought. Pleasant and calming. “You got him back here, it’s OK. We’ll get you taken care of, it’s alright…” 

“Joel,” you closed your eyes. At least things were warmer here. It hurt less. “Need… Joel…” 

“We’ve got him,” Ryan said. His voice sounded so far away. “It’s alright, we’ve got him.” 

You barely remembered nodding before you passed out. 

You were warmer when you woke up. 

Sound came first. It took a moment before you could open your eyes but you could hear the muffled sounds of bickering not far away. For half a moment, you thought you were in Joel’s bed. That he and Ellie were in a tiff just outside his bedroom door, going back and forth about some harebrained scheme that one of them had latched onto. You thought about pressing your face into the pillow and trying to go back to sleep, hoping that Joel would come in once one of them wore the other down. He did that sometimes when he woke up before you, bringing you a cup of tea and setting it on the nightstand before wrapping around you, pulling you into his broad chest and burying his face in your hair or your neck, kissing you and breathing you in until you stirred in his arms. 

And then you remembered. Waking up next to Joel. Going on Patrol. The storm. The blood. 

You tried to sit up before your eyes were open, side pulling and head spinning. 

“Hey guys, she’s waking up!” 

Your eyes had never been heavier but you forced them open anyway, already reaching and groping to figure out where you’d ended up. 

The room was bright, the bed soft. It was the third time you’d managed to dodge death and awoken, confused and lightheaded, in Jackson’s clinic. The other bed was empty.  

“Joel,” you started trying to get up but two small hands held you in bed and you frowned, ready to fight whoever was holding you back, but it was Savvy, her eyebrows drawn tightly together, curls springing in every direction. 

“Mom, you have to be calm, you’ll rip your stitches…” 

She was here. She was with you, willing to talk to you, touch you. The sound of her voice, all gentle concern, made your chest tighten. You just looked at her for a moment, seeking out the minute changes in her since you’d gotten a chance to see her - really see her - last. You thought she might be having her last growth spurt. She looked a little longer, her face a little thinner. There was a scratch on her cheek that you wanted to kiss like you did when she was little. There were tears in her eyes. 

“Savvy…” 

“I was so scared,” her voice cracked. “I thought you might be dead, I thought…” 

“Oh honey,” you pulled her against you and held her to your chest, one arm looping around her waist, the other hand cradling her head to you, the wet of her tears on your neck. You kissed her temple and tried to keep the tears that were starting to cling to your eyelashes from falling. “It’s OK, you’re alright, I’ve got you. Don’t have to be scared, you’re OK.” 

“I’ve never seen you like that,” she sniffed from her place against your skin. “You’re always so strong, you’re never hurt, not like that…” 

“I know,” you said softly, rocking her gently. “I’m sorry, Honey, I wish you hadn’t seen that. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never see it again and we can talk all about it but baby, I need to know where Joel is. Is he here? Is he OK? Is he alive?” 

She sniffed and started to pull back from you as the door opened, Ellie, Tommy, Maria and Dr. Livingston coming in. They moved slowly, cautiously. Like they were worried you would startle if they behaved normally. Tommy looked washed out, Ellie exhausted, both with grim looks on their faces. Your arms went limp and Savvy sat back from you, looking between you and them. 

“No,” you shook your head, a lump growing in your throat. “No, no, you’re wrong, he’s not…” 

“He’s alive,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “Barely. But you got him here just in time, it was very very close while we worked on him…” 

“Where is he,” you tried to get up again but Savvy held you down. “I need to see him, just for a second, please…” 

“He’s still unconscious,” Dr. Livingston continued. 

You frowned, looking between everyone. 

“That’s bad,” you said, reading their expressions. “Why… How long has it been?”

“We’ve been back about two and a half days,” Tommy said, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You nodded slowly. That made sense to you.

“He was hurt bad,” you said, looking between them again. “He lost a lot of blood…” 

“He did,” Dr. Livingston said. “But… well, we’d normally expect to see more from him by now. He’s breathing on his own - we don’t have the facilities to keep him alive if he can’t - but that’s the best we can really say for him. He’s… he’s unresponsive.” 

You processed what she said for a moment.

“You’re sure?” 

She nodded, her mouth a thin line. 

“Are you…” You had to close your eyes and focus for a second. None of this came easy or naturally. It was utterly unnatural, thinking of Joel in that way. He was so strong, so vital. He couldn’t just stop being like that. He couldn’t just fade away into nothing like that. “Are you saying he might not wake up?” 

“The longer he’s like this, the more likely it becomes,” Dr. Livingston said. 

“But he’s still alive,” you said, looking back toward Ellie and Tommy again, looking for that reassurance that you weren’t crazy. They knew him, they knew that he wouldn’t just disappear from his body like that. “He’s still breathing.” 

“He’s alive,” she said. “But he might be brain dead, we have no way of knowing right now, no way of scanning for brain function like we did before… I’m so sorry, but you have to consider the possibility that…” 

“Take me to see him,” you cut her off. She looked at Maria, worry in her eyes, like she thought you might be unstable. “Please.” 

Dr. Livingston sighed. 

“You’ve got a fair few fresh stitches and you’re still down plenty of blood yourself. We’ll have to take it slow.” 

Ellie and Savvy helped you stand up and you could feel the wounds on your leg and stomach protesting the movement. For a moment, you thought you might be able to count the number of stitches in your skin because the way it pulled and strained. You hissed and clutched the girls’ hands, squeezing their fingers so hard that you could only hope it didn’t hurt them. 

They helped you across a short hallway to a room that was almost identical to the one you’d been in, just with one fewer bed, giving people more room to work. Joel was there, flat on his back, his arms down straight at his sides over the top of the blanket. But he looked strange, unnatural. 

It took you a moment to recognized the part of it that was wrong. His chest rose and fell, the worst of his injuries hidden by the quilt. He looked like he was sleeping. But it was off. He never slept like that, straight as a board with his arms at his sides in that way. It wasn’t like him, it wasn’t the way his body arranged itself when he was relaxed. Even when he wasn’t curled around you, he slept on his side or, if he was on his back, his hands were folded and resting where his chest met his stomach. He napped on the couch that way sometimes, when he was sleeping lightly, waiting for you. You could come in and press a kiss to his forehead and he would open one eye and cock a smile at you, just big enough that his cheek would dimple. 

But if your lips touched him now, you knew he’d be still. He wouldn’t look at you like you made him happy just by existing. His cheek wouldn’t dimple. 

You made your way to a chair near the head of the bed and lowered yourself into it slowly. His skin was pale, his face totally lax in a way that wasn’t peaceful and was, instead, like an echo. 

“Oh God,” you breathed, one hand going to your lips. 

“We’re doing everything we can,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “We have ways to get him fluids and nutrients but… it’s nothing long term. We’ll just have to hope he makes a turn for the better.”

You nodded, not able to stop looking at him. His body was so empty, so unlike him. 

“Can I stay with him?” You asked quietly. You weren’t sure when you’d started crying but you were. 

“Sure,” she said. “For now. But you need rest…” 

You just nodded. You’d fight that battle when the time came. 

The doctor left you with the girls, Tommy and Maria. Joel’s family and yours. All the people you had in the world in this one, small room. 

“I was going to go home and get changed, take a nap…” Ellie said quietly. “Can I bring you something?” 

“One of his shirts?” You asked. 

“Sure,” she said. You heard the door open and she paused. “You did everything you could, Bambi. We all did.” 

You nodded, not willing to argue with her. 

“I think Tommy and I will get out of here for a bit, too,” Maria said. “Give you some time. We’ll be back in a few hours unless I can actually get my husband to get some real sleep…” 

“He wouldn’t be sleepin’ if it were me,” Tommy said, voice sharper than you were used to hearing. 

Maria sighed. 

“Come on, honey,” she said. “You need rest, too.” 

The room was quiet for a moment, so quiet you could hear the sound of Joel’s shallow breaths. You wanted to put your head on his chest and listen to the life inside him, reassure yourself that he was still in there somewhere, but you didn’t want to hurt him. You’d already done enough. 

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was soft. “Is it… can I stay? For a bit?” 

You managed to pull your eyes away from Joel to find her, standing to the side, her arms tight over her chest. 

“Of course baby,” you said, looking for another chair. She found one first, moving it to be beside yours. She settled in there, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a heavy sigh. She was looking at Joel, her face drawn. “How have you been?” 

She shrugged noncommittally. 

“Alright, I guess,” she said. “School is OK. Math is stupid.” 

You laughed lightly once. 

“Math’s not stupid but… I know what you mean. Wasn’t ever my strong suit. I liked history best. And music, of course.” 

“Course,” she smiled a little. “I like Ellie and… I like staying where I have been but… I missed you. Missed home.” 

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. 

“I missed you, too,” you said, voice wet. “So much. More than anything.” 

She nodded slowly, not looking at you. 

“I heard the doctors and some other people talking,” she said hesitantly. “What they were saying… It’s not the first time they’ve seen you hurt like this.” 

You waited for a moment, to make sure she was done. 

“It’s not,” you said. 

She nodded again. 

“How did you end up here?” She asked quietly. 

“I…” You sighed and tried to find the best way to phrase it. “I’d wound up with some bad people. I got hurt. Joel found me when I was in real bad shape. He brought me here. He saved me.” 

“When was that?” 

“About two years ago,” you said. 

“So you weren’t just here the whole time,” she said, more like a statement than a question. 

“No,” you said softly. “I wasn’t.” 

She nodded again. You could see her processing the information, her eyes slightly squinting as she did, so like her father used to do. It still tugged at your heart, bits and pieces of a man you’d loved still alive in his child. 

“I’m still not sure how I feel,” she said, gnawing on her lower lip. “But… I don’t want to keep being mad at you. I miss you. I’d… I’d like to find a way to see you. At least some. For now.” 

“I’d like that,” you said, sniffing a little. “I’d like that a lot. As much time as you want, honey, I’m here.” 

“OK,” she smiled a tight lipped smile at you before looking to Joel. “Do you really think he’ll wake up?” 

You sighed, looking at him, too. 

“I don’t really know anything about medicine,” you said. “But… I do know Joel. And I don’t knot that there’s anything that can keep him from taking care of the people he loves. And I know he knows Ellie needs him, you need him. And I…” your voice cracked. “I need him. He’s strong. He can pull through.” 

She nodded and slowly, gently, rested her head on your shoulder. You froze for a moment, not wanting to disturb her. But, eventually, you had to take a breath and she stayed there beside you, keeping vigil over the man who had become her guardian. 

Savvy ended up staying until after dark. Ellie came back only about an hour and a half after she left, bringing some clothes for you. You immediately put on the shirt, pressing your nose to the collar and breathing in Joel’s scent. She told you then that Savvy hadn’t left the clinic since you’d come in, always at your bedside, nearly ripping off the doctors’ heads when they dared suggest that she go home and get some rest. 

Ellie got her to go home that evening, though, after she gave you a delicate hug that, you thought, might be one of the best ones you’d ever gotten. Dr. Livingston wanted to keep you there for another few days, not something you were going to argue with since you weren’t about to leave while Joel was still there, anyway. She did make you move back to the other room and you gave up the fight quickly, waiting until you heard her leave for the night before going back across the hall, anyway. It was tricky, walking on your own when you were still healing, but you made it without any more blood leaking from you. You pulled your chair close to Joel and looked him over, tracing one finger over the soft skin of his cheek. He still looked so unnatural in this position, so unlike himself. You ran your fingers through his hair, arranging it just so, before you gently took his hands and put them at the base of his chest, one on top of the other. Not quite right, but better. It felt like his body was more his that way. 

“I’m here, Joel,” you said quietly, wanting more than anything to be able to curl up in his lap. “I’m here.” 

You sat on the floor next to the bed - not able to get comfortable enough in the chair to doze off - and rested your head on the mattress near his hip. This wasn’t exactly ideal, either, your stitches itching and pulling as you settled in, but you didn’t care. You had to be close to Joel. Some pain was worth that. 

The next day, you were shaken awake by a frustrated Dr. Palmer who was taking over so Dr. Livingston could get some rest. 

“You are bound and determined to be your own worst enemy,” she muttered, forcing you back to your own bed. She checked you over, reluctantly told you that you were healing well with no sign of infection. The second her back was turned, you were back in Joel’s room. 

Ellie, Tommy and Maria came by again, all of you sitting in near silence, watching Joel, waiting for him to do something - anything - to indicate that he was still in there. 

The next day was less quiet. You were in your usual position in the seat by the head of Joel’s bed when Tommy and Ellie started getting into it. It didn’t sound like a new argument and, you realized, the bickering you’d been only vaguely aware of as you regained consciousness was probably them. 

“I’m not going to sit around here and fucking wait forever,” Ellie snapped. “I’m going out there, I’m going to find them and I’m going to kill every last fucking one of them.” 

“We need to wait,” Tommy said, voice strained. Ellie didn’t seem to care. 

“Wait for them to get further and further away?” She snapped. “Wait for them to come back with more people? No, it’s too big of a fucking risk. I’m going out there.” 

“Need to wait until I can go with you,” Tommy snapped. “Need to wait until we know…” 

Tommy’s voice trailed off. 

“Until we know what?” Ellie demanded. “Until we know whether or not they successfully murdered him? No, fuck that, I’m going to beat the shit out of her with a goddamn golf club, make her fucking feel it…” 

“No, you won’t,” you cut her off. 

“I won’t?” She asked, brows raised, almost daring you to argue with her. “You’re not my fucking mom, Bambi, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck I do or don’t get to do.” 

“You ever killed anyone, kid?” You asked, chin resting on your fist as you watched her. She just blinked at you for a moment. “And I mean people. Real people, not infected.” 

“Yeah,” she said, though her voice was less sharp. “Yeah, I have. Two.” 

“Alright,” you replied. “You torture them? You like killing them?” 

She was silent and just looked at her feet.

“That’s what I thought,” you looked back to Joel. “You’re not going after shit, kid…”

“I’m not a fucking kid!” 

“You’re his kid,” you shot her a glare before looking back at Joel. “And he wouldn’t want you murdering and torturing people for him.”

“But…” 

“No,” you said. “If… If he… If someone needs to handle it, it will be me and Tommy. We can take them and we can make it hurt. You’ll stay here. Not gonna just let you turn into a killer for him, he’d never forgive me. He’d never forgive either of us. One of the last things he said to me was to look out for you and you better goddamn well believe that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. You’re not going any damn place.” 

She stormed out but Savvy came that evening. She brought a deck of cards and the two of you played Go Fish like you used to when she was little. She told you Ellie was cooling off but she thought she’d be OK. 

“I don’t blame her,” she said, arranging some cards in her hand. “If someone did that to you, I’d want to kill them, too.” 

You looked at her for a moment. 

“I wouldn’t want you to,” you said gently. She looked at you over the cards, skeptical. “I mean it. You hear that something bad happened to me, you take it and move on. Don’t hurt yourself thinking that will fix it. It would only make it worse.” 

The day after that, Ellie brought you your guitar. It made Dr. Palmer look nervous but you promised to take it easy and that music was how you relaxed. 

“Just don’t get all worked up and play Freebird,” she muttered, leaving you alone with Joel and your instrument. 

“Why is everyone so obsessed with Freebird?” You asked a silent Joel as you delicately arranged the guitar on your lap, dodging the stitches in your stomach and leg as you did. “There’s better shit out there…” 

You played for him whatever came to mind. The song you’d written for him kept cropping up. So did the songs you’d played with him, slower and gentler things that you tried to pull from memory, even Take on Me because it got stuck in your head. 

“Do you think he can hear me?” You asked Dr. Palmer that afternoon. 

She stepped back from him and sighed for a moment, looking at you as though she were going to gauge her answer around your demeanor. 

“No one knows for sure,” she said eventually. “But… if he could hear anybody, I think it would be you.”

By the end of the second day with your guitar, your whole body was sore and tired but you didn’t move to go back to your own room. Both doctors had given up on forcing you. You nearly ripped their heads off when they suggested you go to your house for a day or two, try to get some real rest. It was bad enough that they’d surrendered to your stubborn need to be where you could see Joel at all times, no longer willing to fight over what they thought was better for you. 

It was quiet, dark. You weren’t entirely sure what time it was but you thought everyone in town besides those on watch were at home. You were as close to home as you got now, home could only be where Joel was. You weren’t sure how to find home without him now. 

You played the song you’d written for him one more time, soft and slow, before propping the guitar against the wall and sitting delicately on the edge of the bed, careful to not disturb him. You adjusted his arms a bit, putting them where you knew he would rest them if he could move them on his own. You gently brushed his hair back. His patchy beard was getting long in spots and you wondered if Ellie could bring scissors and a razor the next time she came so you could trim it for him, keep it how he liked. You drew the shirt of his you wore tighter to yourself and just looked at him for a moment. He was so beautiful, even like this. You needed him so badly, needed him to be OK. You needed to be able to wake up next to him again, kiss him on your way out the door again, make love to him again. He couldn’t be gone, not now. Not like this.

“Joel,” you said softly, barely even a whisper. “I know… I know I should probably tell you that if you need to go, it’s OK, that we’ll be OK but… I don’t think I can. I don’t know how to do this without you, I don’t want to do this without you. I need you, I’m not sure I can be a real person without you. If you’re already gone then… then knowing you was one of the best things that ever happened to me and I’m thankful for every goddamn second of it. But if you’re still there, if you can hear me… I need you to come back to me, Joel. Just… please. Don’t leave me, don’t leave the girls, I just… I will do whatever you want, just stay. Just come back to me. Please.” 

He was still below your touch but you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, anyway, his skin soft and warm. A tear slipped from your eyelash and fell to his cheek but you didn’t move to wipe it away. You had the odd thought that maybe he would absorb it, that his skin would soak up your salt and your sadness and then, even if he didn’t come back, at least he’d have part of you in him when you put him in the ground. You wondered if you’d be able to join him. You slid off the bed and tucked your legs up against yourself, crossing your arms atop the mattress and resting your head there, drifting off to the sound of his breathing. 

***

All Joel really knew was that he was somewhere warm and soft. Warm and soft and kinder than where he’d been before, though the memory of just before was fuzzy. He remembered you, waking up with you, being inside of you, kissing you goodbye. He remembered watching Ellie ride off with her friend for their patrol. He remembered laughing with his brother about something but didn’t remember what. Everything after that was a haze of blood and pain. 

But he was warm now, somewhere that was familiar but he was having a hard time placing it. Grass and trees and a park bench that was more comfortable than it had any right to be, the sound of birds and cicadas on the air. But there were no other people. None that he could see, anyway. 

He heard voices now and then. There were some he knew were familiar but he couldn’t quite place. Others he’d have known anywhere. You, Ellie, Savvy, Tommy, Maria. It was a haze, he could make out the tones and the melodies of your speech but not the words. But that was OK. He knew all of you were close and that was enough. 

There was music, too. He would have recognized your playing from anywhere but it still seemed so obvious from wherever he was. But your music sounded sad, some kind of longing in it that wasn’t there when you usually played for him. He wanted to fix it, wanted to come from wherever he was and make it better. He just wasn’t sure that he could. But he kept hearing the song you made for him. That song was clearer than any other, so present he almost thought it was the version of it you’d recorded for him. But it wasn’t followed by the words he’d come to know so well in the months without you, the ones you’d added to the end of the tape that he listened to every night since you left. Every night until the one you came back to him. 

Come back to me, Joel. 

“Dad?” 

Joel looked around for a moment, heart pounding. He knew that voice, had heard it inside his head so many times through the years. But never like this, never this close. And then Sarah was in front of him, her curls a halo around her head, skin almost glowing in the golden sun. 

“Baby girl.” 

He realized where he knew this place from. It was a park in Austin that he took her to all the time when she was a little girl. The skyline was at his back if he could turn to face it, a playground down the hill to the right. She’d loved the open field, though. She loved being able to just run and run and run with nothing to hold her back. He tried to make himself get to his feet but he couldn’t. She just smiled. It was warm, gentle but more knowing than he’d remembered it being. But then, maybe he’d forgotten. Because otherwise, she looked exactly the same as the last time Joel had seen her, down to the clothes. Except her purple shirt wasn’t bloodstained now, her ankle wasn’t hurt. She was whole, healthy, the way she always should have been.

“Long time no see,” she sat beside him on the bench and he was able to reach her then. He reached for her slowly, cautiously, but he didn’t need to worry. She reached back, putting her arms around his neck. He held her, close and tight. She was warm and soft but the heat wasn’t coming from her. Instead it was like she was part of the place where he was, warm like the sun. She pulled back from him before too long but left a delicate hand on his knee. He tried to memorize her, make sure he knew the precise constellations of her freckles and the way her lashes framed her eyes. She looked him over and smiled that beautiful smile of hers. “You’re getting old, old man.” 

“Yeah,” he laughed a little, still not sure what to say to her. “Yeah, I know, baby girl. I know.” 

“I’ve missed you,” she was still smiling but it was sadder now. “A lot.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, his voice wet. “So, so much. You have no idea how much…” 

“I know,” she said. “I’ve seen. You’ve been through a lot, Dad. So much. I wish I could have been there, I wish I could have helped you.” 

“That’s not your job…” 

“I know,” she said again. “But I still wanted to.” 

“How are you?” He asked. “I want to know everything, everything…” 

“I’ve been good,” she smiled. “I met your friend Tess. I like her. I liked her before, too, but even more now. She’s a lot like you, I’m glad you had her.” 

“How…” 

“Dad, I would love to tell you everything,” she cut him off. “But we don’t have time.” 

He frowned. 

“No,” he shook his head. “No, we didn’t get enough time before, but we should now, we…” 

“We will,” she reached out and took his hands. “Eventually. But not yet. You’ve gotten old, old man, but not old enough. You’re not supposed to be here yet. You still have a lot to do. You have people who need you, people who love you. They really, really love you, Dad. You need to go back for them. You’ve been here long enough.” 

Don’t leave me.

He looked up, looking for where your voice was coming from. Sarah just smiled. 

“She needs you,” she said. “And you need her.” 

She was right. He could feel that in every inch of him. He wanted to be next to you, wanted the life that he could have with you that had been so close when he’d left Jackson that morning. Just you and him and your girls. He wanted it so much it hurt. But how could he leave his daughter? His baby girl, the first baby girl he’d held, the first one he’d failed. How could he leave her again?

“Baby girl, I love them, too but I can’t just leave you here alone…” 

She smiled gently. 

“I’m not alone, Dad. And it’s OK if I’m not your whole world anymore,” she gave his leg a squeeze. “It’s OK if you have another purpose. I want you to be happy. Her, Ellie, Savvy… they make you happy. They’re your purpose now. You deserve that. Go be happy. I’ll be here when you’re done. We’ll have time then, too. I promise.” 

Just stay. 

“Go be with them, Dad,” she said. “Go be happy. We’ll be together when it’s time.” 

Just come back to me.

“I love you so much, Sarah,” he said, reaching out and holding her face in his hand. “So, so much.” 

Please. 

“I know,” she smiled. “And I love you too.” 

There was a wet spot on his cheek but he wasn’t crying. He frowned, touching his skin there, a tear clinging to his finger when he pulled it away. The place he was glowed brighter. Sarah’s face was somehow further away though neither of them had moved. He could feel himself fading from here, going back to where he was before. Part of him hurt with that, clinging to Sarah so hard that it seemed as though he was going to leave that part of him behind. But the rest of him was bringing him back, desperate to get to you, be beside you. That’s where he was supposed to be. He knew that now. He was always supposed to live. He was always supposed to flinch. He was always supposed to find you. 

“I’ll see you around,” she said. “Take care of yourself. Take care of them. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

He didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.

Everything hurt. 

It was sudden and sharp, the place where he was abruptly dark and cold. He wasn’t sure he could move much, every part of him impossibly heavy. But he forced his eyes open, at least. He was flat on his back and in a bed. It took him a moment to realize where, but the fact that there was medical equipment near his head narrowed it down. He heard a soft, sleepy sound and forced himself to lift his head enough to look for it. It didn’t take him long to find you there, head resting near his waist. He smiled to himself. Part of him was just relieved that he hadn’t dreamed you coming back to him, relieved that you’d want anything to do with him at all now. 

He forced his arm to move, the limb unnaturally clunky, every motion pulling and tugging on damaged skin but he didn’t really care. He rested a hand on your head, smoothing your hair down, thumb brushing against your forehead. You startled and jerked awake, sitting up quickly and blinking sleep from your eyes. His hand fell to your arm when you did and looked around for a moment before your eyes fell on him, the glow of the moon on the snow illuminating your face in the dark. You frowned for a moment, your brows knitting together. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel managed, his voice dry and cracking. 

“Joel!” You scrambled to your feet, taking his hand and clinging to it as you did. “You’re here, you’re alive, you’re…” 

“I’m alright, baby,” he said gently. You sank slowly onto the bed at his waist, clutching onto his hand. “You OK?” 

“I’m OK,” you nodded quickly, your voice wet. “Tommy’s OK, Ellie’s OK, we’re all OK. I was so afraid, Joel. I was so afraid. I thought you were gone, I thought I lost you…” 

“I know,” he winced as he reached the hand you weren’t latched onto over to cup your face. “I’m so sorry, baby. Wasn’t tryin’ to go anywhere…” 

You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles before holding his arm to your chest, clinging to it like a child does to a security blanket. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked, looking him up an down. “I can go wake up a doctor and…” 

“M’fine sweetheart,” he said, brushing a thumb over the arch of your cheekbone. “Don’t… don’t go anywhere, need you close. Just…” He did his best to shift himself so he wasn’t in the middle of the bed, wincing as he did. “Just be here. Let me hold you, OK?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you…” 

“You won’t,” he said gently. “Need to feel you. Just stay with me, baby. Please.” 

You sniffed but nodded before you moved gingerly to slip into bed beside him. You lay your head gently on his chest and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. It took a moment but he felt you relax against him, body molding to his own. He turned his head enough to brush his lips against your forehead. 

“I can’t lose you, Joel,” you said softly. “I can’t, I need you to stay.” 

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, holding you as close as he could, everywhere your body met his a welcome distraction from the pain. “Not going anywhere.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Yeah, sorry, I can't bring myself to kill Joel lol I love him too much, I need to let him have all the beautiful things he deserves to have.

Thank you so so much for being so patient with this chapter. I promise, I didn't intend to leave you hanging for weeks on end and I feel so bad that I did. Thank you for still reading and for being here. I feel like I've messed up a lot on how I've handled this fic lately - between not understanding how many folks didn't know the TLOU2 stuff and not giving proper warning and then posting that last chapter and not having this one lined up and ready to go - so thank you for not ditching me and this fic. It really does mean so much that you spend your time here with these characters.

Thank you again ❤️ Love you!

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[skele-bunny]

Thinking about Aether and Dew baby...

This follows Calida's timeline!

CW - Pregnancy, Mentions of past Traumatic Pregnancy (but this is a fluff post!)

It's been a good few years, now. Calida now a rambunctious teenager, the ministry settled down while there's no tours for a good while. It's comfortable! The topic comes up one night, Dew settled in the bed with Aether on their day off together;

"Firefly?"

"Hm?"

"Promise you won't bite me if I ask something?" An eyebrow raise but Dew promises. "How would you feel about another baby?"

"Another?" Dewdrop sits up a little, resting more on the headboard as he grimaces some. "I dunno, Aeth... Calida's was rough as is. I had her early, and all the complications, and just the mental side of it? I'm not sure... Why?"

"Just been thinking, that's all. Maybe something in the air, all the babies I've been helping deliver with the siblings. I dunno either. Just thought, maybe, it would be nice to have tiny feet running through the den again."

Dewdrop just chews his lip and nods, eventually going into silence before going to the bathroom suddenly. Closes the door and stares at himself in the mirror for a bit, so many thoughts racing. He doesn't realize how long it's been until Aether knocks to check on him, Dew opening the door and looking up, holding his breath.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Let's have another. But on my conditions."

"What- Oh, okay! What's your conditions?" Aether can't help his tail wagging.

"We're gonna go talk to my therapist and double, triple, fucking quad check that this isn't just a breeding thing for you... A-and I only want you, or Phil, or- or just that really nice midwife you introduced me to at the Halloween party, Alexa... If... If I get pregnant again. No one else."

Aether just nods, taking Dewdrop's hand, leading him back to bed. "Those are all reasonable. I can call for an appointment in the morning. Sound fair?"

"Yeah... Sounds fair."

It's about two months worth of sessions, both privately and together, making sure that YES. They want this! Dew is mentally ready for this again, Aether isn't in some kink phase, etc. They even talk to Calida who's more than excited about a little sibling! Dewy gets off his testosterone and starts taking supplements, and circles his first heat for them to start trying. They keep everything quiet for a while, and even more months of failed attempts to conceive. It's about month four when Dew wakes Aether up, sitting on his lap with two positive pregnancy tests.

They're SO fucking excited but keep their expectations mellow. Dewdrop's health has much changed since Calida, plus they don't know if the egg will fully stay intact. Still, it is exciting for Aether to smell how fruity Dewdrop is. Constantly scenting him to see if there's any changes but also to cover the smell around the others. Every night Aether has his eyes full of stars and a gentle hand on Dew's stomach, whispering to Dewy what he sees, how small it is, but still so full of fluids and cells.

Two months, they agree to tell the others. It goes as they expect, excitement and extra affection, a ghoul pile that even Copia makes time to join.

"Have you started thinking about names or anything like that?" Sunny is laying her head on Dew's thigh, smiling SO wide.

"No, not just yet. Things can still change so we're waiting at least until near the end of the second trimester."

"Makes sense," Swiss chimes in. "Does Calida know?"

Aether is the one to laugh, leaning over. "That girl scared the birds away from how excited she got. She was the first to know."

Now, Dewdrop wouldn't trade Calida for the world. But he wishes he had this gentleness when he was expecting her. The kindness and a huge pack so that he doesn't have to strain and try to keep up, that he knew early, how accommodating everything's been. There's times he'll just hold his stomach and look in the mirror, so much deja vu of when he did it in hotel bathrooms while on tour. Speaking to Calida and telling her she was going to be the light of his life, and now he's doing it again. Just another piece for a puzzle he didn't know wasn't completed yet.

He's put on bed rest once more, too many high risks going on, and he starts eventually experiencing... Symptoms.

"What do you mean they're weird?"

"They're just fucking weird, Aether! Just, okay, tickle me."

He blinks. "You hate being tickled."

"I know! Just do it!"

He shrugs and does a little wiggle of his fingers before attacking Dew's sides and armpits. Listening to him squeal and laugh, grimacing and eventually - the TV turns on. Aether is staring at it while Dew catches his breath.

"See? Weird fucking shit! If I sneeze the lights turn on and off, when I get headaches my phone's battery dies, and like... It's so strange!"

Aether whistles a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh we're so having a quint."

"Huh?"

Aether looks him dead in the eyes, but a big goofy smile. "You're having magick surges. Little bit is reacting to you, and quintessence is a hell of a thing. Starts while still in the womb, my mother in the pit had almost the same things happening. Less technology and more of like, levitation. We're having a quint!"

Dew blinks before breaking into cries. "Woah, woah! What's wrong, my love?"

"I'm gonna look like a fucking watermelon you ass-wipe!" Hitting him softly but still crying.

Poor thing isn't even six months yet, but he looks like he's eight! Mumbling about his feet hurting, his legs more swollen than normal, cravings that are insanity to even be thought of. It's when he's in the nursery, tying ribbons on the crib when he gasps at a feeling, holding his stomach... It happens again.

He doesn't even get the full trill out before Cumulus and Mountain are RAMMING into that door.

"What's wrong?!"

But, he's smiling, beckoning them over. Takes both of their hands and puts it on his bump, shushing them every time they try to ask. There's a kick and their eyes go wide, Dew just as much. It's much softer than normal kicks, but that's to be expected from the egg sack still around them.

Then, finally, a gender reveal. Expecting a tiny little girl, Aether excited as he's always been a girl dad, adjusting some of the things in the nursery to match her.

"Teddy."

"Hm?"

Dew is playing with a tiny onesie, keeping his eyes locked on it. "What do you think of the name Starshine?"

"Starshine?"

"Yeah," his thumb going over the embroidered star on the onesie. "For our daughter."

Aether hums, thinking it over a little before he nods. "Yeah... Yeah, I like that."

He makes it to full term, after an agonizing day and a half of his water being broken and no dilation. Clutching to Aether and Mountain, Alexa between his knees to help course their daughter out. Mountain's fur is sticking up from the amount of electricity from Dew holding him, then with how hot he is. There's a bit of a power surge at the final push before the lights come back. Dewdrop sobbing as he dead weights against the two, staring at the ceiling but ears completely focused on Starshine's mad cries as she's cut from the sack.

Good god they though Mountain was furry? That poor girl is gonna need haircuts WEEKLY. Aether and Dew laughing a bit as they're holding this purple blob of fur, some soft white on her belly and in her ears. Hair blonde, just like Dewdrop's.

Mountain congratulating them and helping Alexa clean up a little while the new parents again bask in the afterglow with their new daughter :3

[matan4il]

911 ep 706 first watch reactions

Buck and Eddie setting up the bachelor party are so funny. They're married to a degree that the bride and groom can only aspire to one day achieve. And Madney are raising a kid together! Then again, so are Buddie, and have been since day 2... (day 1 is forever Buck ogling Eddie at the station, and Eddie strutting his stuff for him, with Buck's now canonically jealou-traction being the, ummm, lubricant)

Oh, Tommy just arrived, Buck and him have done nothing but hug, and Eddie's already bringing on the jealousy jealou-traction. IDK what is the etiquette about bringing your date to a bachelor party, but what's the rule about bringing your hubby who's jealous of your bf?

Oh, and an extra jab at Buck bringing Tommy officially as his date to the wedding. I love me a jealous Eddie. My dude, your closet is shaking so hard, it's about to push you out of itself if you don't make the move already.

Okay, in all seriousness, Tommy not dressing like the 80's, Buck showing that he really cared about that silly party theme, Eddie rolling with it, the two of them being dressed more as a couple than the actual guys dating, Buddie seeing things so much in the same way (down to both seeing themselves as the same character from Miami Vice) while Buck and Tommy are totally out of sync... I love that Tommy is there to help Buck figure himself out, but also, this is the stuff that will forever keep me shipping Buddie.

I know the flashback is mainly to show that the bachelor party is Buck's idea, and goes against Chim's wishes, but Eddie suggests the couple costume? And Buck was so readily on board? Even when he knew Tommy would also be invited? This is my house catching fire, while I sit here, mumbling to myself how fine it all is...

Okay, everyone leaving the bachelor party, even the guy Buck is dating, while Eddie stays, sure is something. And by "something" I mean "a couple." That's a couple. That's Buck's partner in everything, even dumb ass 80's costumes and failed bachelor parties, he's the one who jumps in whatever stupid plan Buck comes up with, and stays to deal with the mess.

LOL And then we got some REAL mess. Again, dumb Buck idea, and Eddie just rolling with it. Making it worse even, by suggesting how to take the party (made up of people who don't even know the groom) to Chimney. These two deserve each other. XD

Buck was behind Eddie while his shirt was being torn? Presumably helping with the tearing? That's it, 911 does not want me to make it to the end of the season with my sanity intact. I guess it's good that I'm not even trying...

I'm glad there was a representation of Chim and Kevin, and a Korean tradition, I just hope it was a truthful one. (do we have Korean viewers in our midst to chime in on this?)

Maddie using her 911 skills to find and help Chim is pretty badass (and a nice gender reversal of the 'damsel in distress needing to be saved a sec before her wedding' tale). Love it!

Maddie and Chim looked so happy during their wedding. Honestly, at the end of the day, my little hopelessly romantic heart doesn't need more than that. <3

Awwww, the Buck and Tommy kiss was nice. I think the most important part of it is we got to see Buck for the first time daring to kiss another guy, rather than wait to be kissed. I may bbe a Buddie shipper, but I think this r/s is important to Buck as well, to his ability to find what he wants, to not be scared of it, to not wait for others to want him as was the case with all the women he'd dated, but rather figure out what he wants in a certain moment, and that it's okay for him to go get it.

(I still don't think Tommy is Buck's endgame, though. Much as his probably my fave Buck r/s so far other than Eddie. Tommy not being there for Buck when the bachelor party flunked, him not being there at the wedding itself, to share this significant moment with Buck, being almost incidental to Buck's coming out to his colleagues and parents, other than being a gay that was obviously kissed by Buck just a short while ago... Again, just not the stuff great love stories are made of)

Hen going, "Finally!" to Karen was funny and cute. Everyone (almost) just smiling at Buck's coming out was nice. But the way his mom reacted in particular felt more realistic, and made me wish that at least with his parents, who we know he has a strained r/s with, the should would have allowed this to be more explored. Hopefully in a future ep if not now.

Thank you for reading! If you're looking for more, you can find my s7 reactions tag here, and more of my Buddie meta and content in my pinned post. xoxox

[aromanticannibal]

Anyways. Headcanons based on whatever progression this is.

I said headcanons and I lied. Over-analyzing time.

First thing I was thinking about: how are Katsuki and Izuku childhood friends when they are very clearly from different cultures slash tribes slash villages. The idea I ended up with is that Katsuki's people move a lot since they have dragons and they temporarily settled near the Midoriya's house at some point.

Very quickly because I made a post about this before : at some point All Might's sword breaks or is broken on purpose by All Might and its two parts are given to Katsuki and Izuku (this is somewhat lore accurate/canon to the fantasy art series). I headcanon that Katsuki and Izuku then personalize their swords more, keeping the blade intact while modifying the hilt and such (see last illustration: Katsuki's sword is more visible that Izuku's but both have blades in a similar shape as the All Might/One For All sword. There's also that Izuku has another sword at his hip and Katsuki's original sword, the curved one, isn't the one that's out).

Shouto and Enji are so fucking weird.

Shouto's demonic situation in the second illustration clearly represents his left side being associated with his father (bad) and his hatred (also bad). I'm gonna say this is a curse passed down from Enji and created from hatred - the more hate you feel, the more the curse consumes you, but you can learn to wield the curse's power if you let go of your hatred. Both Shouto and Enji are fighting the curse in the second illustration (explaining Enji's fuckass costume hiding his flames, probably) and both of them let go of their hatred (Enji for All Might, Shouto for Enji) in the last illustration.

I also assume given their outfits that they're royalty, if not the king and prince, other similarly important guys.

I think heroes are knights, maybe, probably.

All Might is likely some kind of knight or warrior, Iida and Yaoyorozu are knights, Jirou is a knight, Aizawa is kind of a knight, maybe? It's not a fullproof theory I'll be honest, not all pro-heroes or heroes in training are knight coded in the fantasy series.

The ugly ass dragon?

The ugly ass dragon in the second illustration seems to be an ally to Katsuki and Izuku (and therefore the others) but for reasons you'll understand every soon it's fucking dead. I'm assuming it got killed by villains. Whoops.

So the reason I think it's dead is uh. Yo? Katsuki and Izuku's shoulder pads in the last illustration sure are purple and scaly huh? And the ornaments on Katsuki's new sword sure are orange and horn-looking, huh?

Anyways, the dragon got killed and they used its body for armor and weaponry.

the green capes?

The last illustration has Izuku, Shouto, Ochako, Iida and Aizawa wearing the same type of green cape (Ochako's is a little different but it's still the same green). So this is the Dekusquad plus Aizawa, I'm gonna go ahead and say this is Izuku's party, RPG style. Aizawa is probably here to mediate and make sure they don't die. Katsuki isn't there because he likely is leading the other party.

Kirishima glow up? hello?

He looks so fucking cool in the last illustration I don't even have anything to say. He also looks closer to Katsuki's clothing style, so I'm gonna say Kirishima is part of Katsuki's tribe slash village slash whatever the fuck but left to become a knight and then started getting more in touch with his culture when meeting Katsuki.

Stuff I point out without expanding on it:

Hawks' wings are gone, whoops. Interesting that the fake ones are white and not red. Dove much?

Yaomomo baby that armor isn't protecting you. However you are safe anyway because you are clearly some kind of magic user as well as knight and probably have some kind of force field in place.

Ochako's hat updates to have horns. Minachako goodness. /hj

Kaminari is a cute bard! He's such a romantic. Holding a flower and shit

Not visible in the picture I have. Guys I know we all love the I on Katsuki's arm but I'm sorry it's likely the number 1 in roman lettering rather than the letter -i. He's the number one. He's so goofy.

[arkham-guard-dp-au]

*Slowly slides a new ask idea thing*

... Ok, but like, like most inmates/patients in Arkham, Danny does not like Lyle Bolton (Batman: The Animated Series) at all, not when the man is blatantly abusing his power through (rather severe) punishments that end up setting back any sort of progress for anyone. Danny does his best to avoid most interactions with Bolton if he can.

Bolton, as the chief of security for Arkham, can respect Danny for not chickening out like most new hires during the first escape, but over time, as the man watches Danny seemingly perfect track record of no escapes while on duty along with him befriending the main rogues gallery especially, well, the man's suspicious of Danny.

Oh, and what's this? Cameras tend to Glitch and go static when Danny's nearby, especially during escape attempts. Bolton begins to grow wary and paranoid with Danny, so much so that, while most of the staff appreciate Danny, they all notice the blatant disrespect Bolton shows to him.

The longer Danny stays working at Arkham, the closer Bolton descends to becoming Lock Up. However, for this AU, his goal is simple. Locking Danny up in someway so Arkham stays intact and the prisoners stay where they're meant. After all, how else is this non-gothamite shrimp-looking kid able to cow the inmates to behave as they do? Bolton starts to believe Danny is allied with all the inmates and is doing the long-con of their inevitable escape and destruction of Arkham. Well, not under his watch!

He ends up somehow learning of the GIW and gain their sponsor of sorts, who fills him in about Danny being a person of interest and is to be detained and sent to their nearest lab immediately. As long as Danny's gone from Gotham, Lock Up will gladly help the GIW to keep the inmates in their cells till they rot. As they should be anyways.

Inmates notice Bolton's descent to seemingly madness and how he grumbles a lot about Danny. Not good. They grow protective of Danny. After all, despite how terrifying and creepy he may be, he's one of the very few who treat them well and respectfully. Like hell they'll let Bolton of all people try and hurt Arkham's favorite guard for any reason.

When the day Bolton manages to get his hands on Danny for GIW, a war might as well rain over Gotham now.

(Unsure if any of this makes sense anymore)

Now I don't know this Bolton but he sounds like a jerk. I wonder if he would try to get Batman in on his anti Danny campaign. Mabye even bringing the GIW into Bat's radar.

It could become extra angst if Batman believes the GIW lies and thinks they are in the right as a government organization, or be against them. Thinking the GIW runs a bit too close to anti meta campaigns.

[the-way-astray]

What's your favorite cannon thing you truly like about Keefe Sencen

I DARE you 😈

i've been dared . . .

definitely my favorite thing is the fact that in flashback/legacy he was 100% not only supportive of sophie and fitz's relationship despite having a crush on sophie, but also actively tries to keep sophie from doing something that could even be interpreted as implicative. there was a poll a while ago about whether people thought sophie and keefe were (even unintentionally) emotionally cheating on fitz, and i answered a hard no. and the main reason for that was because of keefe. he does so much to try to keep sophitz together during that time, including telling sophie to confide in fitz, telling her to tell him about the matchmaking thing, shutting ro down (or at least doing his best to), and generally speaking, he did not have to do all that. like, yeah, any decent person would be supportive and not actively try to break their two friends in a relationship up, but keefe goes way beyond that and actively tells sophie exactly what to do in order to keep her relationship with fitz intact. every time fitz "catches" him with sophie it's lowkey painful to think about what keefe must be feeling because he spends so much time trying to prevent that exact thing from happening. there's even a line in legacy where sophie admits this herself. one of the only times he uses his empathy not dubiously is at the end of legacy, where sophie "tells" him (i use the term loosely) that she and fitz broke up. and he immediately says "i'm sorry", expressing out loud his sympathy for their relationship's end.

(one thing i've heard people misinterpret a lot in anti keefe things is the "blond hottie" line, which they say is an inappropriate thing to say about someone in a relationship. that was not said by keefe. that was said by ro. she says that when she's trying to convince sophie that bronte can't be her bio dad, to which keefe then says "unless she gets that from her mom". that's all he says. sophie then wonders whether that meant he agreed with the blond hottie assessment, but that doesn't come from anything he actually says.)

it surprises me that i haven't seen keefe lovers talk more about the fact that fitz literally commissioned him to draw him and sophie in a very romantic pose in a very romantic spot and keefe did it. so i'm going to talk about it. once again, this is not just baseline "my crush is in a relationship, oh well, guess i won't interfere" stuff. this is going above and beyond to keep sophie and fitz together. again, keefe has a crush on sophie. i'm not an artist, but obviously art doesn't just pop up out of thin air. he spent some time making that drawing. and all that time is yet another reminder that his crush is in a relationship. he could've told fitz no, made up some excuse as to why he couldn't do it, and that would've been well within his right. but he didn't. so that's a thing worth mentioning. (i'm going to just say i don't like the argument that fitz knew what he was doing when he asked keefe for the drawing, though. i think fitz just thought "sophie likes keefe's drawings! let me get her one of those" which is sweet in and of itself.)

in unlocked, keefe thinks something like "he definitely should not be happy that two people close to him were going through a rough patch. but, if he was being honest, he wasn't really sad" or something to that effect. and i like that. he has a crush on sophie, so of course part of him will be happy she's now single again. it's realistic. i've definitely talked about this before, but jealousy isn't a character flaw to me. it's only the actions that a character does because of their jealousy that defines whether or not it's a bad thing. but the thing with keefe is that he never allows the fact that he likes sophie to outwardly affect sophie and fitz's relationship in any negative way when they're tentatively dating. sophie and fitz fell apart for a lot of reasons, but the reasons were entirely on sophie and fitz, and had nothing to do with keefe himself. in fact, you could argue they only lasted as long as they did because of keefe.

i complained a lot about how much he doesn't shut up about his hair in my rant. but that was mostly at his humor style and the fact that he literally talks about it at the weirdest times (in his registry file . . . ) more so than the fact itself. and truthfully, he doesn't even talk about it that much. but i think it makes a lot of sense that he takes pride in it. it's the physical manifestation of rebellion against his parents who have controlled every other aspect of his life. he's also an artist, and i think it's a pretty neat thing that that extends to the way he styles his hair. also it looks good. i will die on this hill. just don't look at the laura art. jason chan is my king and keefe's hair is very cool and- *gunshot*

there's also a handful of moments where keefe uses his humor appropriately, to ease tension. best example i can think of is the one katie brought up in this post which is the moment in flashback right before the celestial festival (climax). magnate leto gives them all these sparkler things to light if they're in danger, and keefe sets off a couple prematurely "just to make sure they work" *wink wink nudge nudge* and sophie specifically says the "bit of levity" helped tame the "monster" she's been battling the whole book. when he's able to use his humor appropriately, and not at weird times about weird things, he can be a valuable source of comfort. these moments are unfortunately few and far between, but they do exist.

keefe is also good at calming sophie down when she's panicking, when he's not using his empathy to force her to tell him her feelings. i personally like it more when he's comforting her using his words than his emotional breezes, because that speaks more to his personality than it does to his ability to use his emotional breezes to calm her down. another example katie discusses in the post above is when he's talking to her about the bronte-is-her-bio-dad theory. sophie was panicking because she was thinking about the implications of it (prentice, him acting horrible to her, etc.) and keefe brings her back down to earth with his reassurances that this doesn't change anything about her. when she says bronte can't know she knows, he immediately gets her to reconsider in a gentle way, because like. that's the entire point of her search for her bio parents. he does all this using his words (actually i just checked and he does use his emotional breezes a couple of times but his words do have an impact on their own so we're disregarding that), which does prove that he's very good at knowing what to say to keep her calm.

(also the fact that he was even helping her search for her bio parents is another example of him going above and beyond to keep her relationship to fitz intact. he didn't have to do that at all.)

and lastly, i think i mentioned this in my rant and maybe a couple other places, but i think keefe's jealousy when it comes to family is written very realistically. in neverseen, he's jealous of fitz, biana, sophie, and dex when they hug their parents, and there's a line where he specifically says "i hate watching it. them and della" (them referring to fitz and biana). in unlocked, he's again jealous of dex's family and wishes he'd been born into a family like his. and i think that's written really well. it's pretty subtle and not really shoved in your face, too. i'm pretty sure there's a total of three times it gets brought up: the "them and della" line, one line at the end of neverseen where sophie and dex are hugging edaline and kesler, and then the line in unlocked. very blink and you miss it but i like that. it's one of the few things the narrative doesn't dump a truckload of pity on keefe for, and it makes the few times it is brought up even sadder.

oh, and also i think he's handsome. sue me.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Fixing Gabriel's Writing via a Corruption Arc

Like it or not, Miraculous considers Gabriel Agreste to be a loving father. If he wasn't, then you wouldn't get things like the season five ending or this bit from Queen Wasp:

Gabriel: (guilt-ridden) I don't want to break our promise, but… I can't keep putting our son in danger. Style Queen was supposed to be my masterpiece… but even she failed. I feel like I've done all I possibly could, you know? I'll never be able to fulfill my wish without Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous. (Scene shows Emilie in her coffin) Forgive me, Emilie. I'm giving you up, Nooroo.

But this side of him only shows up in big dramatic moments. When it comes to his more general writing, he's a full out cartoon villain and terrible parent, which is why I've said there's a lot of valid ways to write him. His character is wildly inconsistent. This is a problem that is easily fixed via an actual corruption arc where he goes from somewhat decent parent to monster. There's a couple ways to do this, but here's how I'd do it in the context of keeping canon mostly intact:

Early seasons needed to make Gabriel come across as more openly grief stricken. Really highlight the fact that Emilie's death changed something major about him and his relationship with his son. This is one of the reasons I like a more nuanced Chloe. If you let her and Adrien be actual friends, then you can have her make statements to indicate that Adrien used to be quite close with both of his parents and that Gabriel used to be a good father. You can also have Adrien make statements like this to Plagg, I just like the Chloe angle more as she's more blunt while Adrien is more likely to hide his pain/focus on the positives.

Have Gabriel be unwilling to send akumas to areas where Adrien is. Episodes like Riposte should be impossible as Gabriel will be wholly unwilling to let akumas go after his son. This also lets you justify Adrien being locked up. As is, Gabriel just comes across like a jerk. If he's only banning Adrien from going out in order to keep his son safe? Well, he's still a jerk, but at the very least, he's a jerk who worries about his son's physical well being. Origins saw Adrien sneaking out of the house, so keep that element and make this be the reason he gets caught up in akuma attacks.

As time goes on, Gabriel gets more desperate and more willing to take risks. Lots of things could trigger this such as Ladybug always resetting everything, making him feel less concerned about hurting others. After all, he'll fix everything with his wish and, if he fails, then Ladybug will do it for him. There's really no way to lose here. Style Queen could become a turning point where Gabriel finally willingly put Adrien at risk and he feels awful, but make that also be the closest he's ever come. Have Gabriel decided that risking Adrien is worth the cost if it brings them back Emilie.

After that, things start to go downhill. Gabriel draws away from his son more and more due to guilt, but he's convinced he's in the right because he wants Emilie back so bad. The ends justify the means and all that. This can lead into several different types of endings, but the general feeling of Gabriel's final ending should have an element of pity. He's a villain, but he's a villain many could easily become.

This is the kind of path canon needed to walk if they wanted the season five ending to feel realistic. As is, it's going to read as total nonsense to most fans because they're going to go off of the way Gabriel was played in your standard, monster-of-the-week episode. They're not going to think about those core characterization episodes that were supposed to define Gabriel because those episodes are just too uncommon and too antithetical to the way Gabriel tended to be written.

[venbetta]

I'm not sure if anyone's ever thought about this or has made a post about it, but I figured I'd add my own two cents if someone did talk about this.

// Ruin spoilers ahead

mostly about Freddy

So, seeing that headless Freddy has prototype written on the bottom of his foot, it's suggested or even theorized that our Freddy (the one we're with in SB) was a prototype this entire time.

Of course, like many others, I was very skeptical and in denial about the idea because why the hell would that be a thing? How is he a prototype? It wasn't there on his foot in the base game, so why this sudden change?

I kinda hated it, and as a way to cope, I theorized that maybe it wasn't the same Freddy and FazEnt just replaced him with another copy and then abandoned him... don't ask me how that particular Freddy became headless either. Also I was wobbling between the "True Ending" being the Canon one, I was back and forth and just trying to figure out what would've made sense.

My logic for the True Ending being canon was, maybe Freddy and Gregory both got out (alongside Vanessa) with glamdaddy intact, and they're just living life. Meanwhile, Faz Ent just made a new Freddy while fixing the plex but gave up and left everything to rot. Of course I know now that makes no sense or explains why/how the 2nd Freddy lost his head, but it's what I came up with. The PQ Ending is technically canon... so that was a waste of a braincell, hah...

Since fnaf has the tendency to rewrite/add things to the story, I think our Glamrock Freddy being a prototype is something I've accepted. Now, there are a few things I thought of that might add to the idea of him being a prototype (not confirmed but more speculative).

He's a high-tech, sentient AI robot, he can clearly experience human emotion (like the other glamrocks) and has decent mobility. What most likely seperates him from the other glams is the fact that he experiences existentialism. I know we don't see much from the other glams, what they think of their current situation (not even from Roxy in Ruin), they aren't fully aware of what they are or what they're doing (as far as we know). Their programming is focused on being entertainers and birthdays.

I'm not gonna say that the other glams aren't able to express deeper thoughts, but I think this is where I might be stretching this idea just a bit.

If you're going to make AI bots who can adapt and be flexible with their environment, there's gotta be some kind of limit of what they can say/think/do. Freddy is the prime example of not having that limitation since we see/hear him express concern about not being the only Glamrock Freddy that's walking around:

"Have I always been a Freddy? Am I Monty with a different shell? What if I am not the first Glamrock Freddy? ... Do we all feel the same? Am I special? If I am mass-produced, am I still art?" (Endo Warehouse)

This motherfucker literally commits arson:

"You sure collected a lot of toys! Perhaps we can do something to stop whatever is going on here." (Fire escape Ending)

When he goes to the basement and encounters the blob, he goes on this monologue:

"I know what this is. I have been here before. She brought me here. I found myself for the first time when I cleared the path. I did not want to, but I had no choice. Now I have a choice. I have changed. My friends are here. They are so angry, confused. But I can protect you. I am not me." (True Ending)

He ultimately goes against some of his programming to help a child in need-- even lie to a security guard-- which if he were set to do as he's told, he would've sent Gregory straight to Vanessa, even with Gregory adamantly telling him not to.

If he were programmed to be strict and not break any protocols, he'd would've gotten Gregory killed immediately.

I'm saying this because if we're being realistic (realistic in terms of how we usually program robots and things), there are barriers in what a robot/ai can really say/do that doesn't break its programming. If he's a prototype, Freddy wouldn't have those barriers to stop him from saying/doing most of the things he did in SB. I know there's another factor to him behaving kindly to Gregory and that's him being in safe mode, but even still... you would think he would follow the rules and not let Gregory do certain things and perhaps unintentionally get the boy killed.

I'm going back to the existential crisis Freddy has, because for something that's meant to be an animatronic mascot for kids, you wouldn't want him to make the children around him question the meaning of being alive and sentient. There would have to be some sort of guard against having those kind of thoughts and ideas. It makes Freddy more interesting, especially if he could've been easily replaced with a finalized version of him that did what he was suppose to.

Also, I know it's probably more widely accepted that either Vanny or Gregory hacked into Freddy, causing his collapse during the opening. With him being a prototype, maybe his systems couldn't handle that type of an advanced hack, unlike the other glams, making him unable to be properly hacked into in the beginning.

Not only that, there are some issues he has with performing, who knows, maybe he's had collapses before. We don't know.

Him being unable to enter the West Arcade:

"When I step onto the West Arcade dance floor I cannot stop myself! It is a programming bug." (West Arcade)

I'm aware him being in safe mode meant he's disconnected from the main network as well keeps him docile. While the "Afton" fight isn't technically canon, with the other upgrades on Freddy, those parts might have made him more susceptible to the virus attack. There's not much evidence pointing to the other glams not being prototypes but seeing how they each have upgrades while Freddy doesn't, that might hint that the others were mostly finalized, meaning their systems were properly functioning (aside from the virus of course).

Sorry if this was super long, but it's something I thought about and I had to put it in words. Nothing about Glamrock Freddy is normal, like he's not possessed (I use to believe in the glammike theory but I don't anymore eh...), but he's a prototype! He's gonna act all funky because he's not polished yet... and I think that's very interesting and endearing (in an odd way).

[neko-naruto]

crawling up the skin of my spine

summary: it's the beginning of the end when Raph's egg absolutely fucking shatters after years small cracks, thank god Cassandra is there to hold her hand through it

warnings: swearing, cass accidentally outs raph to april, check ao3 port for full tags

authors note: inspired by all of the magnificent raphcass that @less-depresso-more-espresso drew, go check it out. it's all really good and makes me insane. title from Alrighty Aphrodite by Peach Pits. if ya'll enjoyed considering dropping a reblog or checkin the Ao3 port.

"I think I'm a girl." Raphael's words floated atop the otherwise rampant sound of rubber on rubble as his brothers shot down Kraang.

"That's great and all, but can we please wait until we're not on the run to discuss this!?" Cassandra practically screamed back, a thick tentacle slamming against the window and shattering it. She hacked it in twain with her hockey stick, the blades of her skates tied onto the bottom.

"Yeah, sure, Raph understands." He keeps driving their ramshackle truck because somewhere along the line they had to ditch the tank. Now they have to fight to keep their microscopic trailer with only bedding essentials and food intact as they try to survive. Survive and plan a way to win, they're already beelining it to a colder climate in hopes of deterring the Kraang.

Raphael really hopes that this sudden spike of 'girl thoughts' isn't the start of something bigger.

None of the others were.

-/-/-/-

Snow is sprinkling down on them when they finally take a rest, the last Kraang hundreds of miles back and past the border. They snuck through a small crack in border security when a guard was off taking a leak. The smell of pine and the sound of rushing water envelopes them from all sides as they set up camp.

Setting up camp consists of finding dry wood and popping the cover for the bed of the truck so some of them can sleep in it. But it's harder than expected to find dry wood, and Michelangelo took it upon himself to use this freshwater advantage for fishing.

He and April are out kneedeep in the river, trying to snag fish by hand while Donatello and Leonardo are out looking for dry wood that'll light. Raphael and Cassandra are setting up the bedding for the night, spreading few pillows and blankets across the hitch trailer, truckbed, and passenger seat.

"You want to be a girl," Cassandra begins as she steps down from the truck bed, and it takes Raphael a moment to process the words.

"Well, I think it'd be nice. We're all gonna die by the Kraang, so why not have some fun?" Raphael began with as he watched her slash at a tree with her hockey stick for burning wood. Midswing she turns to look at him, askew hair she hasn't trimmed in months just barely fluttering atop her eyes. He stammers to speak, "That's stupid, I'm stupid."

She drops her gear and walks over to Raphael, gripping the front of his plastron and yanking him down to eye level, her strength still amazes him. She holds his face, even with the rough scars, "You're not dumb. You're a dumb ass, big difference." Cassandra lets go and steps back, watching the red starting to rise to Raphael's face.

"Thanks, Cass," Raphael said quietly.

Cassandra grins and pats him on the shoulder, "Good. Now let's get chopping, I don't wanna freeze out here, Raph."

-/-/-/-

Cassandra can't sleep at night, stuck in the hitch trailer with April and window ajar for fresh, wintry air. She stares at the roof, those dumb glow in the dark stars dimly lit up, and her eyes focus and blur back and forth. April lays beside her, resting on her side and stealing most of the blanket with her torn jacket as a pillow.

"What's got your knickers in a knot?" April asked abruptly.

"What's got your knickers in a knot, O'Neil?" Cassandra answers with sharply, aware she shouldn't say what's on her mind despite how much it's stuck right on the tip of her tongue.

"Raphael's been off," April said bluntly.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Cassandra can only pray that April doesn't keep prattling on because if she does the ravenette knows something stupid and exposing will fall out of her mouth.

"He's so quiet, and awkward. He's always been a bit different, but this? Whole new level of Raph weirdness, all he does is drive us to the new spot these days. And chop the wood and bash some baddies if he gets a chance, but he's missing that Raphael Hamato spunk!"

Cassandra bites her tongue and tries not to speak.

April sighs, "Do you know what's wrong with him?"

"Her."

"What?"

Shit.

April sits up to face Cassandra. She reaches for her glasses before staring down her teammate, "Cassandra Jones, care to explain yourself?"

She really doesn't, but her survival instincts also don't wanna be on the receiving end of April's cold shoulder. "I wasn't supposed to say shit about it, but Raphael's… different now, wants to be a girl different."

April goes dead silent.

"Tell her I told you this and you're dead." There's a snarl under Cassandra's tone.

"I figured as much, Cass," April said, "Raph's a girl now?"

Cassandra nodded, "He isn't one hundred percent yet due to circumstances and the apocalypse happening, but oh yeah, Raphael's a girl."

"Always thought it woulda been Mikey." April gives a hum of laughter.

Cassandra takes a deep breath before pressing both hands to her face, palms resting on her cheekbone. "Fuck. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. Especially not her brothers, you better not squeal."

"I would never."

Cassandra nods.

"Anything else bugging ya?"

"Is it wrong that the first thing I thought when he told me was 'thank god I'm still a lesbian?'" Shame rests heavy on her usually aggressive and in your face voice. A vulnerability the Kraang invasion has only further shoved into hiding.

It takes a second for April to process the words, "I don't think I'm qualified to answer that question." She laughs nervously after she speaks.

"Can we go down to Hot Topic tomorrow? Buy some accessories for Raph?"

"You just said she isn't one hundred percent sure."

"Might help her solidify it."

-/-/-/-

"Look, Raph," Cassandra begins with quietly, words low and slow. It's night time, well, the evening at the least. Snow melts as it hits them, sprawled out in the back of the truck as the rest of their team tells tales around a roaring campfire.

"Yeah?" Raph said, trying to pitch his voice a bit higher.

"I'm not too good at this being a girl thing myself even though I had my entire life to be one properly," She confesses, a bit of shame on her voice. She wants to be there for Raph. Be a mentor. Know some helpful stuff. But she doesn't, only the bare minimum. "The one thing I do know is that my mom always made me wear dresses with lots of bows and frills, and grandma bought me accessories."

"I can't, I'm a giant turtle, Cass. I can't just go out there and buy some dresses."

Cassandra pauses, and when she speaks her voice is quiet, "You can tie your mask tails in a bow, or change how you wear it."

Silence.

"I don't know how to tie bows."

Cassandra jolts up before gripping Raph's hand, he'd started to file down his nails with the sharp edges of his sai. He sits up and then she's crawling overtop of him to get at his mask, "I'll do it for ya then."

And Raph would shove her off, but it's nice. Being close to someone, having her calloused hands undo his mask and just hold it for a moment. Proximity too close, flames from afar casting a golden glow on her face and Cassandra's never taken a moment to look at Raph so closely before. The golden sclera, the scars, the way the scales darken around her eyes like eyeliner-

Woah.

Where did that come from?

Her. Cassandra hasn't really thought of Raph as 'her' inside of her own monologue so casually before. It's nice. It feels comfortable.

And Raph just stares unblinking at Cassandra until finally the silence is broken with a bit of a laugh, deep, hearty, "You gonna do up my mask, or?"

"Right. Yeah. The mask." Cassandra is quick to lay it around Raph's neck and tie it into a loose bow. Almost a bandana-esque look.

Then she rears back from Raph to sit a few feet away, watching as the snapper plays with the bandana on his neck. He smiles a bit. Then that smile falls. "What if the guys ask questions?"

"You don't have to tell them shit."

"But they're my brothers."

"You'll get there, I promise. Took me years to tell anyone I liked kissing girls, a couple more to explain I only liked kissing girls."

Raph feels his stomach turns at that. A good kind of stomach turn perhaps, maybe it's butterflies, but he can't tell. He just nods, "Raph gets it, it's hard to be vulnerable."

"Thanks for being vulnerable with me."

"What?"

"Nothing."

-/-/-/-

Cassandra looks out of place inside of the kind of clothing stores April fits in at, and even though eyes bore holes into her she persists in shopping.

No one says anything and she knows that in NYC she'd already be kicked out for looking so different, but she's in Canada now. The land of mild mannered people and snow, so far both of those notions are holding true.

April holds the bag and Cassandra grabs everything that she thinks would compliment Raph, it's hard to tell though because the girl she's buying for is a massive turtle. She buys arm warmers that are three sizes too big for her so they'll be loose on Raph. She grabs necklaces and bracelets even though she doubts that Raph will wear them, they look nice. She buys skirts and the cashier gives her odd looks at the sizing but rings them through anyways.

For Raph.

A million sharp glances and judging glares.

For her Cassandra thinks that she'd do anything and she hasn't felt that in years upon years.

It's euphoria.

-/-/-/-

"Me and April went out shopping for ya."

They're laying in the hitch trailer when Cassandra said it.

"You and April?" Raph answered with.

Cassandra gives a nervous laugh, "It was a mistake when she learned, she was suspecting anyways."

Raph huffs and turns away from her and it stings but yeah, Cassandra deserved that.

"We got you skirts. And arm warmers. And necklaces. And other accessories." Cassandra tries to recover with as she stands up and looks for the bag in the moonlit camper.

That piques Raph's interest. She turns back around and sits up before Cassandra unceremoniously dumps the items on the floor. Raph is hesitant to sift through them, but once she starts, it's hard to stop.

"Like 'em?" She asked with a bit of a grin on her face.

"Love 'em." Raph slid on the arm warmers over her spiked arms and they tore through a bit but that was fine. They were deep reds and blacks and complimented her mask that she wore as a bandana sometimes. Even less times tied around her tail.

Cassandra thinks her eyes are playing tricks on her but she's pretty sure that Raph is glowing in the pale moonlight. She can't help but lean her head on her palm, knees crossed and elbow propped. She tries not to look too lovesick, but hey, whose to blame if it's obvious?

Raph is too wrapped up in her brand new outfits to take note of Cassandra's disposition.

-/-/-/-

"I think I like you!" Cassandra shouted as her and Raph sparred.

In that same split second the snapper drops her guard and a fist lands square in her maw. She doesn't go stumbling but she does lurch back shock on her face as she rubs her jaw.

She opens her mouth to speak, but not much else comes out aside from a few sounds that could become words. They don't become words. Instead she gestures as she tries to process those five words shot at her with more force than any attack.

Red steadily rises to Cassandra's face as she waits for a response.

When no response comes she does the opposite of what Raph expects.

She turns tail and fucking runs.

Raph is too shell-shocked at the suddenness of Cass's confession to even try to run after her, tail swishing back and forth like a dogs.

-/-/-/-

"Cass!"

The woods echo back at Raph mockingly.

Bugs chitter.

Birds croon.

Water rushes.

Cass does not respond.

Raph just clenches her fist and gives a small aggravated exclamation before trudging deeper into the woods. She's gotta find Cass. She needs to, April's gonna freak if she doesn't, Leo's gonna blow his lid, Mikey's gonna explode, and Donnie, Raph isn't so sure how Donnie will react but it'll be bad.

Her tail thrashes along trees and claws mark them as she goes deeper into the underbrush so she doesn't get lost. Just follow the water, the camp is downstream from here. Her skirt gets torn up a bit as she goes, sap and pitch stain her shirt, she's a mess.

"Cass!"

"What?!"

That's a good sign even if there is annoyance on the voice, Raph follows it.

She's panting a bit when she finally finds Cass next to a tree, half squatting and nudging a stick around in fallen pine needles and dirt. Tears definitely aren't streaking down her face, palm raised to smudge them and some eyeliner across her face.

Raph sits down next to her but before she can speak Cass is already opening her mouth.

"Sorry."

"What?"

"For falling in love with you, it's dumb. I'm dumb. I should know better than that. Love is for sissies," Cass rambled before heaving a long sigh, "I'm just, I'm sorry okay!"

Raph doesn't know how to answer to that, "What if, what if I loved you too? What then?"

"It'll kill you too."

"No it won't."

"Everyone I've loved gets hurt. I'm not safe. I don't want to hurt you."

Raph grabs Cass's face and wipes aside the tears and the smudged makeup, "I'm stronger than them."

And Cass fucking laughs as she relaxes into Raph's hands, her own coming up to grip the now sticky and pine littered arm warmers. She laughs and she cries and she hiccups and it's ugly and a far cry from pretty but Raph doesn't care.

"You won't hurt me, hell, all you've done is help me, Cass." Raph presses her forehead head to Cass's and the human butts her head against the snappers like a cat. Raph pulls back but doesn't let go of Cass's face, "Thanks for being vulnerable with me, Raph gets it."

Cass has the boldness to press a kiss to Raph's inner wrist and a muted red rose to her face. Cass just smirks, "So, Raph," She pauses as her voice cracks and a hiccup hits her as she comes down from crying, "What's your name?"

"Renetta, but, you can call me Raph."

It's an offer more than a statement, but Cass holds onto that offer as tight as she learns to hold onto Renetta's hand.

[cherubchoirs]

How many fallen angels do you think there are in hell? there must be a few if Mike was able to observe the process enough to try it himself. Are they all secured in Treachery or have they been hiding from machines and angels in the other layers?

Would they welcome Gabe to the club?

oooooh yes the other fallen angels!!! in the inferno, the fallen angels are met only once the poets arrive at the gates of dis - that is, from heresy downward - so i think of them being largely concentrated in those circles (despite their sins coming from any of the layers). there are rare fallen angels that exist outside of dis and make it to the upper layers, particularly now with the angelic presence in hell much lower, but v1 never encountered them because of this scarcity. likewise, while heresy is meant to have its gatekeepers, gabrel had likely scattered any fallen angels that surrounded the cathedral before v1's arrival as the last thing they would want to deal with is a pissed off archangel lol so i have any fallen angels (after lucifer's fall) living in violence and the layers past it, though there aren't too terribly many compared to the other denizens. i actually have them very secretive by nature, ashamed in the way gabriel initially was and, like the sinners of the lower layers in the inferno, not wanting themselves known to outsiders while they can be brutal to the sinners living with them. gabriel would absolutely make them curious though - he is incredibly powerful and high-ranking amongst the choirs, but most of all he was an archangel. someone like that hasn't fallen since lucifer, so i think they would spy on him from shadows since they still don't wish to be seen by v1 (considered an outsider despite being inhuman)

gabriel really doesn't know how to feel about them, as so many of them have been warped by the cruelty of hell and have lost the sense of who they once were. it's a bit haunting really, catching glimpses of them and half-recognizing a face he hasn't seen in eons. they're all still here, all the angels that were lost that gabriel helped to expel - he expected hostility actually, but very few come out to see him. i do like the idea that he eventually speaks with some that he once had fondness for (famously, there is a watcher that was close with uriel), though they are not the angels he once knew. importantly, though, gabriel doesn't hold this against them and instead finds his anger turned on god, for allowing a place like this to exist that his children, angel or human, were cast into to be forever forgotten as they twist and rot. because he sees sparks of who they were, especially when they hear his voice, but how could they not become brutish shells of their former selves in a place like this? these are angels hollowed out, burned of everything they once were and left still alive as ashes. they are envious of gabriel, he hears it in their coarse voices, yet he wonders if he might still end up like them one day.

but i think there is a fallen angel he once knew that tells him he should go to his circle, go all the way down to the wastes of cocytus. go see him. gabriel has avoided the lucifer issue intensely, keeping away of the depths of treachery because he is terrified of what he will find, to see how god ruined him and what destroyed michael from the inside out. and that beside, what could his presence serve lucifer? but the other angel is right. he should know. so my idea for lucifer is that all the other angels that fell with him are sort of...a part of him at this point. they have no higher thought or functioning, instead only able to feel pain, while lucifer has been left mentally intact but frozen. he is a mass of angels all fused with him and encased in ice, crying out in their agony but unable to produce anything else. lucifer still thinks, still lives as himself, but while their torment is individual, he feels each and every one of them on top of his own. and he is desperately alone despite the thousands that make up his massive form (sort of in the shape of a dragon's body, but it's impossible to tell from how mutilated it is as well as how it seems to disappear into the ice). he does not speak, he does not acknowledge even gabriel's presence, though gabriel can't seem to get too close without the hulking mass lashing out at him in what seems to be pure instinct. all they do is cry, thousands of voices calling out in their suffering as they have for the countless millennia they've spent like this. but gabriel doesn't want to get close, he doesn't want to see any more even if he knows he'll never stop hearing them now and weak appeals are drowned out entirely before he has to flee. this is what god does. this was his justice against those who only questioned (gabriel has read the testaments now, they were fed lies about lucifer) and i think this just. genuinely breaks something in gabriel.

[bengiyo]

I am curious for your perspective on the way the OF creators are interacting with fans and have even admitted to editing the show based on fan reactions. It strikes me as an unusual level of interaction and capitulation, though of course TV is a live medium that is nearly always responsive to reactions to some extent. My preference is for a lot less of this kind of thing, but I know you have experience with direct interaction with media creators and have found it enhances your experience sometimes. What do you make of how these dynamics are showing up in OF and the effect it’s having on the show?

TV and Critic Background

So, I am actually the worst person to talk to if you think the creators should be quiet about their work, because I really enjoy talking to directors, producers, actors, cinematographers, and especially editors about their work. I often go to film festivals just to talk to the creators about their processes.

I've also been in the TV space a really long time, and I am used to this kind of behavior. I don't think a lot of folks who are in BL are used to being in the process of TV itself, and I think a lot of people have let the Netflix binge model inform the way they view TV. TV is not like movies. When you get a movie, you are seeing the end product of filming, editing, test screenings, re-edits, etc. TV is usually only an episode or two ahead of the viewers.

It's extremely normal for a show to respond to feedback when characters test well. The 100 did this with Jasper. He was supposed to die in the pilot when that spear entered his chest, but he tested well with audiences so they revived him.

Fun Fact: This is why Kiseki: Dear to Me didn't just move their release schedule up when episode 8 was leaked early. They probably weren't finished assembling episode 9.

I followed Sense8 through its entire development process all the way from rumors and then J. Michael Stracynski's posts about it, to the things Lana and Lily said about it, to the commentary from the cast.

I have a special hatred for Rick Behrman over Star Trek.

I absolutely hate Russel T. Davies because of Cucumber.

I bailed on Supernatural because of the way the writers condescended to us at comicon after killing Kevin.

I know some fans are upset about the idea that scenes they wanted to see got cut, but I was there for Noah Galvin opening his fucking mouth to talk shit about other actors at ABC who were playing beloved gay characters and that subsequently getting The Real O'Neals canceled. The show had a very short second season and I feel forever salty about that.

What does this mean for Jojo and Ninew and Den?

I actually think Jojo, Den, and Ninew are fine. I don't think they usually poopoo on valid reads from what I've seen, and mostly they're having fun with the fans, too. I just don't think people are used to the creators being so honest about how feedback affects the editing process.

I think this is the first time we've had a big show in a while where the creator was fairly active on socials about the show. Aof and Au are usually pretty quiet when their shows are airing, and only give small tidbits while they show is airing. Jojo is silly and likes to play with fans. Den is feisty and has a gay agenda to pursue.

Truly, I don't think Jojo and friends are that bad about anything with this show, because they're mostly just laughing and stating things that are obvious to people who pay attention to how the sausage is made.

Shipping

That being said, the biggest struggle OF is having is shipping. The FK girlies are so loud and their heavy breathing has likely influenced the way Jojo and friends decided to write Ray. The FB girlies are so into them that it's made Jojo and them dial back some of their Top content because the audience hates him so much. Only Boston and Nick feel like they've made it through the shipping gamut intact because Neo and Mark aren't bringing a bunch of preexisting shippers to the table.

Coming off of episode 10, you can see this plainly with the nasty4nasty dynamic with Boston and Nick. The emotional core of their dynamic feels true, even down to the way their moments in the store mirror their first interactions again. Boston came in for service about his phone and intentionally showed Nick something on it.

I don't think Jojo has ever had to work with multiple acting pairs that were big branded pairs prior to this, and this is only his second time really dealing with that. With Never Let Me Go, Pond and Phuwin weren't that big yet, and he wasn't threatening their ship with anything complicated. OF is challenging for people who just watch BL as fap material and have to deal with their faves not being easy people to parse.

As usual, we go back to that post that goes around all the time, thought I think the OP deleted it:

"Never ever be normal about fictional characters but please GOD be normal about the people who play them, I am begging you" -tumblr user mantorokk-writes

[itsjaywalkers]

jegulus & 71 pleaseee :))

i love all your writing btw!!!!

this prompt gave me an excuse to write this silly lil scene i've had stuck in my mind for days SO THANK U FOR THAT BABE

if u recognise what this is loosely based on . no u don't . i'm going thru something okay .

also !! thank u so much nonnie i'm very happy to hear it !! <3

71. "Kiss me, quick!"

Regulus doesn't know how he's managed to land himself a date with James Potter, but he isn't really complaining.

Or, well, maybe he is complaining a little bit, because, technically, it isn't a real date.

He thinks that, to all intents and purposes, though, it's absolutely a date. They're at a restaurant, sitting in the same side of a booth, and they keep gazing into each others eyes, smiling sweetly and giggling while they decide what they want to order.

Regulus can totally pretend this is real if he ignores the not-so-subtle glances James keeps throwing to the couple a few tables away from them. Or how he keeps whispering under his breath what he wants Regulus to do so they look more convincing. Or the fact that James chose to ask him to be his fake date through gritted teeth and a pinched brow.

He supposes it might be kind of his fault. Regulus hasn't been very nice to James, although there's been a considerable improvement since they met, which he believes should be more appreciated.

But, then again, the Regulus of seven months ago wasn't pathetically in love with James Potter.

Regulus misses him dearly. It was so much easier to keep his reputation intact when he didn't have to make an actual effort.

"I'm gonna put my arm around your shoulders," James informs him with a smile. It looks genuine, and it would've fooled Regulus if he didn't know the other man as well as he does.

He nods, offering a smile of his own that despite being considerably smaller, it's actually sincere. Regulus isn't too worried about it, though. Unlike James, he's an excellent actor, the best of their generation if he says so himself, and it's not hard to believe that he'd play his role perfectly.

Even if it's one as unbecoming as being James Potter's boyfriend.

As he said he would, James wraps an arm around him, and Regulus has to will his body to remain cool and relaxed but not too relaxed, or else he'll end up melting against James' body.

He's just so warm. Regulus reckons the other man ought to go see a doctor about it, get it checked, because it shouldn't be normal for a human being to feel so welcoming, so safe.

Regulus shivers, and he isn't sure if it's due to how disgusted he is by his own train of thought, or how well he seems to fit, tucked against James' side.

"I'm gonna put my head on your shoulder," he mutters, tone surprisingly even. Since he's already doing this, he might as well take advantage of it and properly enjoy it.

"Good idea," James murmurs, sounding excited, his eyes fixed on the guy sitting right in front of Macdonald.

Regulus thinks he'd feel more jealous if it weren't because this whole thing is a mere ruse to teach that asshole a lesson after breaking James' heart.

Still, he wishes James was paying attention to him. He's the Regulus Black, after all. It shouldn't be a choice in the first place.

"Oh," James gasps, squirming a little in his place and jostling Regulus' head a little from where it's resting on his shoulder. "He's finally noticed us."

Regulus can barely supress the urge to roll his eyes.

"Maybe we should turn it up a bit, then," he suggests, getting more comfortable and pressing even closer to the other man.

"You're right," James agrees without missing a beat, as if it's not completely unheard of, James admitting to Regulus being right about something. "I'm gonna whisper something in your ear, and you're gonna laugh about it. I know it must be difficult for you, but—"

"Pretending you're funny?" Regulus cuts him off, batting his lashes up at him all coyly. "It's nearly impossible, but unlike others, I do have the acting skills, so I think I'll manage."

James glares down at him, the gesture poorly disguised by a grin. The matching one Regulus gives him in response is totally genuine.

The other man leans down, until his lips are grazing Regulus' earlobe teasingly, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to keep an embarrassing noise from escaping.

"You're the most insufferable person I've ever met," James whispers, his breath hitting Regulus' skin with every word. "And I can't wait for this date to be over."

Oh, Regulus couldn't relate more. He's starting to come too close to popping a fucking boner for comfort.

He laughs, too loud and too eager, behaving like a stupid schoolgirl with a crush, and when realisation dawns on him, he does his best to ignore that he is basically a schoolgirl with a crush.

Regulus thinks that this must be what hitting rock bottom feels like.

"Fuck, he's looking this way," James says, still way too close to Regulus' ear, to his fucking neck. "He's actually looking this way. Oh my god, I can't believe this is working!"

"That makes two of us," Regulus huffs after daring to take a peek and discovering that James' annoying ex is, in fact, focused on them and their cheesy display. He even seems to be shooting daggers at them.

"Shit, Gideon looks so mad," James comments, positively giddy at the thought. "We gotta do something else, something that actually drives the message home."

"And what would that message be?" Regulus drawls, tilting his face the slightest bit, making it seem like they're actually having a Moment.

"Probably 'you're a fucking prick and I'm glad we're over and you're gonna regret playing with me like you did.'"

Regulus hums, considering, and then his mouth is opening before he even has the opportunity to think about it. "Kiss me, then."

James splutters, eyes widening comically and jaw almost dropping to the floor. Regulus wants to snap at him for breaking character after all their hard work, but now that James has decided to fuck up so badly, someone's gotta keep their charade afloat.

"What?" he nearly yells, and it's almost physically painful for Regulus, holding back his scowl.

"Fucking keep it down," Regulus hisses, his expression resembling a lovesick fool's. "How do you want this to look believable otherwise? Especially after sabotaging us like this."

James has no business looking as offended as he does right now. If anything, Regulus should be the one sporting that aggrieved frown, considering the circumstances.

"Shut up," James grumbles, all petulantly like a child. "I don't want to fucking kiss you."

Regulus swallows the sudden wave of nausea and the pieces of his broken heart, and arches a judging eyebrow.

"And you think I do?" he questions with a sniff. "I'm doing this to help, but if you'd rather ruin your own plan because of your stupid pride, then be my guest."

"I know you're not just lecturing me about pride, of all things—"

"James, I think he's about to get up. Fuck, what if he comes here? Shit, this is—kiss me, quick!"

"Excuse me, he's doing what!?" James whips his head around in mild panic, just to see that Gideon really is pushing his chair away from the table, all his attention on them.

"James," Regulus urges him, elbowing him harshly on the side.

It takes James a couple of seconds to return his focus to Regulus, at least a dozen emotions flickering behind his eyes. "I'm not—I don't think we—"

With a long-suffering sigh, Regulus grips the front of James' shirt and pulls him in, clashing their mouths together and swallowing James' surprised gasp.

He tries to tell himself it's fine, that he's kissed other people before when shooting scenes for his show, and this isn't any different. Regulus didn't feel anything back then, because it was just work, just another role, and in a way, this thing with James is, too.

But it doesn't matter how much he tries, how he keeps repeating these words in his head like a mantra. His heart still speeds up as he moves his mouth against James', who seems completely frozen on the spot. His cheeks still burn, the blush probably being noticeable from a distance. His body still relaxes against James', seeking more of that lovely warmth, more of James' touch.

It's over way too soon, but the other man isn't responding, and if he keeps it up for too long with James just sitting there and taking it, their audience is bound to notice.

Regulus pulls away with a truly idiotic smile, and he hates that he doesn't even have to fake it.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he murmurs, while James blinks down at him.

He's about to turn around, search for Gideon and hopefully relish in his jealous expression, when he feels a hand on his jaw. The grip is unforgiving, bordering on desperate, and before Regulus has the chance to question it, or swat the contact away, James is pulling him in for another kiss.

This one's different. Less performative. Regulus wasn't actually acting in the first one, because he's been wanting to kiss the other man for a few months now, but he was still hyperaware of Gideon, of what they were trying to do. Of James being completely unresponsive.

In this case, however, it's sort of impossible to focus on anything that isn't James, who's kissing him eagerly, hungrily, deepening the kiss the moment Regulus begins reciprocating. He licks at his lips, requesting permission, and Regulus grants it without a second thought, nothing but white noise inside his brain.

Their tongues tangle, and James makes a keening sound against Regulus' panting mouth. His fingers twitch around the material of James' shirt, a whimper on the tip of his tongue when their teeth clash in their desperation.

Once again, Regulus is the one that puts an end to it, even if it's more out of survival instinct than actual want. You see, they start to get too into it, especially considering they're in a very public place, surrounded by other people.

There's nothing wrong with a bit of snogging, and Regulus has seen way worse than their little make out session. But then James' free hand is gripping onto his waist, pulling Regulus in until he's nearly straddling his lap, blood rushing south at an alarming pace and hips twitching with the need to thrust in search of some friction.

Surprisingly, Regulus still has some sense of self-preservation left.

He captures James' lower lip between his teeth and tugs, dragging another obscene sound out of him, before finally breaking their kiss. Regardless, James doesn't allow him to get far, his hold on him tightening as soon as Regulus attempts to put some space between them.

"Yeah," James exhales, sounding absolutely wrecked. "That wasn't hard at all."

[slashingdisneypasta]

Evil Queen x Fem!AFAB!Reader ll Drabble

Plot: Your gentleman caller thinks you're being attacked by a goblin 🧝‍♂️ before his eyes. He doesn't know about you and your queen's escapades... not even the rumours.

*Inspired by Grumpy suggesting that she can turn herself invisible.

Warnings: This is VULGAR, guys. 'Ghost' sex, eating out, public sex, exhibitionism!!!, dubcon on your end (this is a whole surprise from her) and non con for your poor date. Horny lesbians this is for you.

You're out in the grounds on a walk with a possible suitor (one who obviously doesn't know about your dealings with the Queen. Not even the rumours. A foreign nobel), having stopped under a particularly pretty tree to talk - at a respectable distance from one another, -, when you feel it.

Soft lips on your neck. You're startled, eyes widening for a moment. What in the worl-

The lips, belonging to someone apparently invisible standing between you and the nobel talking on about grain to you, press another cool, lingering kiss on your neck before trailing more of them all the way up your neck- leaving heat all over your skin in their wake. Then theirs a hot breath on your ear and you're truy wondering whether possiblh a malevolent castle ghost, or a goblin or something equally devious and scary has taken interest in you- when Hilda's voice whispers ever so softly in your ear. So soft you almost mistake it for the wind.

"Don't react just yet, pet. Let him think everything is fine... "

The words make you nervous but excitement licks at your insides, too, like a flame; A very bad flame that you should put out. You should, you should, you will...

You can't. You've always been weak when it came to the wills of Grimhilde, your Queen. She could make you do anything far too easily, like some sort of siren. You let her teach you things, familiarise you with things... no Lady should know about.

Like how to kiss, and how to use ones lips and tongue on another lady under her skirts when its just the two of you, and the feeling of two wet 'pussies' gliding against eachother... not to mention that vulgar word... You can't help eagerly anticipating whatever she has in store for you right now. Even if it is a wholly innapropriate moment, and you feel terrified that this man will notice, or see something, and call you horrible names. Ruin your reputation. Ruin you.

As if the Queen hasn't already done that.

Except for your reputation, which is still intact by a loose string in this palace- if only because she handles the rumours. 'Gets rid of them'. How? You're not sure. And you're afraid to ask.

While Hilda continues to leave tantelising ghost kisses all over you, your jaw line and the little sensitive spot where your jaw ends just under your earlobe (There she sees it fit to glide her tongue gently, making you shiver when the breeze blows against the area), you try your best to listen to your date. He's talking about- what was he talking about again?? Oh god oh god!-

"Anyway- my apologies, I must be boring you. No one wants to talk about grain for an entire walk." Grain! Yes, it was grain! That was the topic! As Hilda moves over your chin and to the other side of your face and places a hand on your waist and you wonder shortly if her invisibility spell works on her clothes (or if she's naked right now), the nobel gives a lovely smile and nods. "What are you interested in? Do you read?"

Oh, he's kind. You feel bad for what's happening right now- but Hilda doesn't. Her hand starts to rub slowly up and down your side as she lathers you with kisses. "I do! U-um, recently I've been reading some old fables... a l-little childish, I realise, but they're in Portugese so I'm using them to, ah, learn."

"I think that's very admirable. What made you inclined to learn a foreign language?"

"I wish to travel. And, I figure, if I'm going to be there I should know how to communicate there." Hilda allows you to reply, before leaving a particularly sweet kiss to the corner of your lips. More then the corner. Almost half your mouth. You can't kiss back, though, even if you want to- that would surely be an odd sight.

"Very good." Your nobel date laughs, before going into another tangent- this time about Portugal. He's been there, apparently, and if you were listening you would be revited- but Hilda's kisses are straying down onto your throat. She sucks a little on her way down there before she gets to the neck of your dress, and you feel her smirk against your skin. If you didn't feel unbearably hot before, from the affections and the embarrassment, your skin would definitely boil now from the fluster. She's definitely doing this at least partly to torture you.

It's one of her favourite games.

When she starts kissing down your body, over the swell of your chest and down your corset area, your heart truly starts to beat hard in your chest. Like the wings of a bird fighting to stay in the air.

What is she doing!??

Your skirt is long, brushing against the beautiful green grass of the Queen's gardens (matching the gorgeous, magnificent trees you're under), so she can't possibly go any further!! The man with you would definitely notice!

Absolutely not. She wouldn't. That's too-

You feel breeze on your ankles that wasn't there before and the presence of a hand slpping up between your legs. Fingers rubbing one of your thighs.

The nobelman notices the slight lifting of your skirt, despite the lack of wind and the fact that your hands are far from your skirts, and raises a curious brow. "- I'm sorry, my lady, but there seems to be uh- some malfunction occuring with your dress... "

"Oh, um, I'm not sure- " How to lie about this.

The feeling of Hildas hand rubbing your thigh, along with all the kisses before (and, you'd hate to ever be made to admit it- but the danger of the situation as well) are making you feel familiar tingles in your lower area. A greasy slick is beginning to drench your thighs, and you can't take it!! A dark part of you wants her to continue whatever she's doing.

Make you come, right there.

In front of this man. Out in the open. You know it would be the biggest orgasm you'd ever experienced so far, the most pleasure she had shown you so far, even though you know you would be

Mortified.

And the damage to your reputation, by way of this nobleman, would be irreparable.

- Yet, you feel it in your soul, and between your thighs, that you want it.

... that doesn't mean you have to be slave to those feelings, though. You can stop this, you know it. You should.

Hilda can't possibly make you go through with this, can she?

Even though her fingers are now starting to stroke your dripping wet folds, your skirts raising up higher as they probably glide up her shoulder. You just know that she must look devious. Evil, as they call her in the villages.

... you're about to speak up again, suggest you both (you and your date) go back to the castle- but then something happens that makes your stomach completely flip. The nobleman's eyes blow open wide and he looks horrified.

"G- goblin! A goblin has you!!"

The nobleman grabs for his sword after Hilda pushes your skirts all the way up to reveal you to the outside world, but he's quickly shot with a spark of some kind of magic; sparks of fire erupting from the handle of his blade and causing him to drop it instead kf valiantly 'rescue' you. He goes to grab it again, hurried and clumsy, but another shot of magic makes him still.

"H- " You try to say Hilda, and the nobleman (fully conscious with his wide eyes stuck on you- or more specifically your glistening folds) probably thinks you were going to say help. But it doesn't matter either way, as that is the moment Hilda starts to play with your clit. A choked moan forces its way up through your throat, the sensation of her soft, dexterous fingers rubbing prompt circles in the middle of your folds- spreading your wetness all over your lips. Oh god!- oh fuck!

Your thighs beg to part more widely, give your Queen more room to rub you and finger you, make you cum, but you refuse them. No, no. This can't be happening. Fine, you will allow the man watching to think you're being attacked by an evil forest creature- but you won't spread yourself out before him and give yourself over. Even if it feels magical. No. You can't. You have to at least look like you're in distress! You must!

Hilda starts rubbing her finger in a line through your lips, stroking skilfully against your clit as if it were her own she were pleasuring. It's not, though. It's not her. Its you. She's using yours.

Before you can even think anymore, you feel her juicy wet tongue slide against your pussy, a hot flat stroke all over. A sigh slips out of you, your hips twitching.

Oh fuck- your eyes snap up to the noblemans as Hilda continues to lick you, taste you, take away your fucking sanity.

He's still watching, he saw your face change from horror to pleasure. His brows are furrowed in horror, concern and... confusion. Are you liking this!?? Being taken by a damn fae creature!?

You're so close to just giving in now, because how much worse can it really get with this guy, when Hilda's tongue dips between your delicious folds and her lips touch your delicate private skin. Her tongue is just as adept as her fingers, scooping into you and playing with your clit like a filthy whore would in a brothel (you would never tell her such a thing, but she's aware), and you completely give in.

Your feet step apart in order to make more room for your majesty between your wet thighs so she can kiss and fondle your hole even more with her tongue. She smirks once again into your skin and you hear a devious giggle; her fingers coming up between your thighs again and holding open your folds for her to abhse your hole more directly with her dirty, hungry tongue.

For the gentleman to see better, of course. You know thats what she meant, that's what she would say. At this point you're completely hers. She could make you do anything with her tongue deep in your hole like this, your pussy absolutely loving the feel of her fucking you with it in the open air, clear for this man to watch and see. You notice he has a bulge in his nice pants as well a damp spot, and you look away; closing your eyes.

He deserves a bit of respect. What you can give him, at least. Even if that's just pretending to not notice his arousal at your situation.

Before too long a finger slips into your hole instead of her tongue, digging in deep and stretching your walls so much better then her tongue could. You start moaning more frequently, rocking your hips onto her hand. She adds another finger, ripping you open so good, and then one more, and all 3 begin to thrust firmly in and out of your tiny squishy hole. Your moaning is unabashed now and you know the nobleman is seeing you stretched open in front of him but you can't bring yourself to care at all anymore. In fact- it might be making it feel better, that you're being watched- and wanted.

Your hips roll in the air and one of your hands dissapears into your hair; tugging at the strands and begging Hilda. Pleasepleaseplease. Makememakememakeme. Ijusywannacomeijustwannacome!

When her tongue comes back to you as well as her fingers, licking at your hard clit, you open your eyes a crack and see the man once more before you're sure Hilda will 'get rid of him' like she does all the rumours about you. He looks a terrible mess, caught between horror and lust, and it sends you over the edge.

One more hard thrust from Hilda, her curling her fingers inside you to rub viciously at your tight meaty walls squeezing her, hitting your sweet spot so beyond perfectly, and you come harsher than you ever have before.

[sonkitty]

Trickery Post #0 - Introduction

Hello world.

I'm Cathy.

This series of posts I'm going to do was originally planned as a YouTube series, but for various reasons, that idea has not worked out.

I watched Good Omens season 1 and season 2 roughly in late October 2023. While I left the season 2 ending unsatisfied, I still managed to become quite obsessed with David Tennant as Crowley.

I love his portrayal of Crowley so much.

And, through this obsession, I found these very interesting-to-me and very silly puzzle games that exist in Good Omens 2. These games give me a way to keep the obsession going and busy.

This series is going to be about me playing those games, especially the earlier stages.

So, here are a few things I think you might want to consider before you decide if it's worth the trouble of reading these posts.

There are multiple reasons I'm doing this series but a really big one is the situation with season 3. Due to the allegations against Neil Gaiman, season 3 was changed from planned as a six-episode series into a 90-minute movie. I was very upset to learn that news myself because I was really looking forward to season 3 as 6 episodes.

Now a part of me is thinking that's why I should let go of this idea. The games can be null and void. They can be cancelled in this process. They can be retconned out of existence since they are hidden games to begin with. They can be undone. Another part of me is, "Actually, that's all the more reason to do it."

That is to say, the games could very easily be lost and left without being found beyond what work I've already put into them and posted already here on Tumblr.

So, that's something, right? I can just leave those Tumblr posts intact, and the work is there, even if season 3 leaves whatever was originally intended for the games behind. They're already here.

That's all true.

But...in the process of how I've found it is best for me to do things on Tumblr, something ends up lost in the progression of my play. I have found it best to just post some thoughts and ideas, think on them, and then a lot of times, go back and edit those posts to something I hope is more coherent and presentable for my overall point. By doing that, the actual sense of play is lost in translation because the mistakes and realizations as they happen are not left intact.

So, this series is a way for me to commemorate that play because it meant a lot to me as it happened.

I want to store these memories sooner, rather than later, before time helps them slip away from me that much more quickly. I think YouTube would have been more suited to do such a thing, but the work involved is more than I can give at this time in my life.

I am not making season 3 predictions. Conclusions I made are now all the more available to be ignored in season 3 for the sake of simplifying the story or just making it new and different from what it was going to be anyway.

All of that is to say that, I'm making this series for me, even if I'm inviting you into see what it meant to me in these posts.

So, if you don't like the series or feel like it has nothing of any value to you, please move onto other things as soon as you realize that's how you feel about the posts.

Even though this series is focused on my own personal experience, I will be talking frequently in the second person or as "we" and "us" because I like describing the play as a shared experience. It's more fun for me that way.

...

We are going to be playing a long game. These puzzles took months to find and solve.

Don't expect to get things right away. If that happens, great. If it doesn't, please keep in mind that many solutions I found took time to sink in as I found them.

Alright, so I'm going to talk about me because even I forget that I had these parts of my life leading into how I am able to play the games the way that I do. Based on general observation, no one else seems able to play quite like I do because I have a knack for finding certain important names, phrases, and ideas.

I am not someone who has ever worked on a movie or TV show or any entertainment field really as a professional. It's something I used to want to do, especially as an actress. I took drama in high school. I wasn't very good, but my teacher saw potential in me, so I was still invited to go from Drama 1 to Drama 4, instead of Drama 2 after my first year in the class. In my senior year, I was assistant director for a student-directed play at my high school. I was also in charge of lighting. In addition to that, I was assistant to my drama teacher for his first two periods. My acting did improve finally by my senior year, and my teacher said as much. I had a Technical Theater class as well.

I took honors English in high school.

I declined a theater scholarship to USC when I realized I was too scared to move from home.

I ended up not pursuing a career in the entertainment industry at all.

Instead, I ended up in Information Systems as a major while remaining in my hometown. I won't give my actual title, but it might be easiest to understand that I'm a programmer and a bit of a low-rank programmer at that. So far as my IT experience goes, no one has ever worked under me, and I don't mind that in the least. Even so, I have nearly 20 years of experience in what amounts to problem-solving.

When I'm not working at my job, I've had hobbies that go along the lines of playing video games, watching anime, writing fanfiction, and reading books. I don't watch movies nearly as much as I used to and the same goes for TV though my obsession before this one with David Tennant as Crowley was for Rainbow Dash from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.

I've also worked on audiobook readings of fanfic, both some of one I wrote and some of my favorite overall series, Austraeoh, by Imploding Colon aka shortskirtsandexplosions.

All of these traits inadvertently amount to someone who can put together some pieces of a puzzle to recognize a game, ask some of the right questions, and then actually find some of the right answers.

Now another thing about me is that I go through obsession phases. I used to be really obsessed with Devil Jin from Tekken. He used to be my favorite fictional character for many years. That changed in 2018 when Rainbow Dash suddenly became my new favorite.

Crowley's a bit of an odd situation because my favoritism for him strongly stems from the actor, David Tennant. It's not just Crowley, and it's not just David Tennant. It's the combination of these two that I love so deeply. David Tennant is perfect for Crowley.

Plus, these games help keep the obsession going.

So, a few things about my approach to the storyline and the characters.

In October 2018, I saw a promotional image for Good Omens that featured David Tennant with black-feathered wings. You do that, and you have my attention.

I decided to read the book. I had mixed feelings about Neil Gaiman's writing but had heard nothing but good things about Terry Pratchett's work.

I left the book with mixed feelings too. Some of it was funny. Some of it was really racist and took homophobia rather lightly, I thought. I was a bit bored with the kids (The Them) and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I thought Crowley and Aziraphale were a lot more interesting than everyone else. I was already fond of the idea of David Tennant playing Crowley, and thought oh yes, he will be perfect for this character.

I wasn't sure if I would watch the show because it might be too gross for my liking.

Five years passed, generally.

In October 2023, I finally decided to watch the first season of Good Omens. I was satisfied.

After that, I hesitated on watching the second season since I was at least aware the story was incomplete.

I read up on spoilers and decided to give it a go.

The ending didn't really sit right with me. I was annoyed and confused.

But, annoyed and confused as I was, I could not get enough of David Tennant as Crowley. So, I went to Tumblr to get some pictures and could at least read about what other people thought.

Here are my own thoughts on the types of fan interpretations I like of Crowley as a character.

I highly prefer to think of Crowley as clever, creative, resourceful, and imaginative. I do not think using the term "idiot" is cute or funny. I have no affection for it myself. I accept that it's part of the show and that Crowley uses it the way he does, but I don't like it. Over the years, I've read that "idiot" is an ableist slur. While I've tried to get better about my avoiding use of the term, I haven't quite reached a point where I find it my business to tell other people they shouldn't. Sometimes, in context, I get it. Even if the word weren't considered ableist, I generally don't like to affectionately insult characters I like anyway.

For me, these games show that Crowley is a more active and strategic participant in his own story than an initial viewing of season 2 might lead one to believe.

I don't really like Aziraphale much in general, so I'm perfectly good with reading posts that are more critical of him as a character. I don't seek them out, and I actually don't see them much to begin with.

My bias is rather obvious and plain so that I don't like to read those posts on Crowley. I don't say, even on my blog, that people shouldn't. I just don't want to read them. It's really not hard to criticize Crowley. I'm happy to rise to the challenge these games bring in seeing something more to him instead.

Even though I don't like Aziraphale, I appreciate the pairing itself. I also think it's important that the characters have some difference, some separation from each other as people, and I do think season 2 provides that.

If you want spoilers on the games, you'll find them all over my blog. A good central place to find them is my Good Omens 2 Compendium post. And if you don't want those spoilers on the games, they're hard to avoid, but we will be moving forward through this series of posts while trying to minimize or avoid them all the same. As noted earlier, that's to help show the journey itself, to get a sense of the play that's been lost from me just shoving so many answers up front in my collection of GO2 meta posts.

The series is planned to be 10 posts long (0-9).

...

We're going to be using our imaginations and playing with words to progress through the puzzles. (For reference: Trickery)