#the day I got to ask his VA to say my name i died a little inside and was reborn

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

I think about Tomura Shigaraki's cock like. 24/7. There is nothing else going on inside my brain.

[softspiderling]

and i burn for you (and you don’t even know my name) | j.v

summary:

“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.

“I should leave-”

“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf…. My prince.”

OR; Jacaerys is usually a lot more suave when it comes to ladies. That was before he met you.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+, MDNI, p in v, oral sex (fem receiving), doesn't follow canon, Jace has been aged up to 20!

word count: 7,5k words (oh)

author's note: this is very much is an indulgent story bc i miss Luke and Jace🥲 also inspired by close to you by gracie abrams ! pls let me know ALLL YOUR THOUGHTS!!! happy reading🫶🏼🫶🏼

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Do you think my hair will get just as luscious as yours did after you got back from Winterfell?”

Jacaerys’ rolled his eyes at his brother. They were on their second day of journey from King’s Landing to Winterfell. It was to be Cregan Stark’s name day and he had cordially invited Jacaerys and his family to the celebrations. His mother could not just leave her throne at King’s Landing, and Daemon wouldn’t go without her. Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon where still too young to go, so only Jacaerys and Luke rode to Winterfell on dragonback. They could’ve made it in one day if they had wanted to, but they were in no hurry. Well, Jacaerys wasn’t. He knew what temperatures were expecting him. Luke didn’t, which was why he was so antsy to get there and almost didn’t pack the fur lined gloves their mother had laid out for them. Jacaerys couldn’t wait until the biting, cold winds hit Luke’s face for the first time. He would treasure the memory forever.

“Har har, good one,” Jacaerys said dryly. “The court jester should watch out or you will be going for his position in no time.”

Luke grinned at his older brother wickedly, opening his mouth once more to say another jest, Jacaerys had no doubt about it, but the words died on Luke’s tongue when the winds suddenly turned cold, whipping his hair around like icicles.

“Seven hells!” he cursed and Arrax let out a soft whine, not used to the coldness, just like his rider.

“Nyke ivestretan zirȳla, paktot Vermax?” Jacaerys whispered to his dragon, stroking Vermax’ neck with his gloved hand and the creature let out a puff of smoke. I warned him, didn’t I Vermax?

It wasn’t much longer until the two brothers reached Winterfell, their dragons landing just in front of the gates of town. Jacaerys could already see Cregan’s imposing figure standing by the gate as he climbed off of Vermax, carefully patting his snout. He took the bags off his saddle, Lucerys doing the same before leaning his forehead against Vermax’.

“Sȳz valonqar. Umbagon va, ao rȳbagon issa? Se jurnegon hen syt Arrax” Good boy. Stay near, you hear me? And take care of Arrax.

Vermax let out a soft rumble, pressing his snout against Jacaerys’ hand, before he and Arrax leapt back in the air, disappearing across the woods with few wing flaps. Jacaerys wasn’t sure where exactly they went, but he assumed it was some warm cave. Winterfell didn���t exactly have a dragon pit.

“Woah,” Luke gasped, astounded by the amount of white surrounding them.

“I told you,” Jacaerys said, shouldering his bags as Cregan approached them, several pages in tow.

“Prince Jacaerys!” Cregan’s voice boomed across the snowy field, before he stopped in front of the two princes. “What an honor to have you.”

The two men sized each other up, before breaking out in laughter as Cregan pulled Jacaerys into a hug.

“It is good to see you, my friend.”

“And you, Cregan,” Jacaerys replied, patting Cregan’s back that was cloaked in a warm fur. He really ought to ask him what animal pelt it was, he never seemed to be cold. Luke was shifting on his feet next to him and Jacaerys took a step back to introduce his brother.

“Lord Cregan, this is my brother.”

“Ah, the infamous Prince Lucerys,” Cregan said with a smile, shaking Luke’s hand. Based on his face, Jacaerys could tell his brother was struggling to keep a straight face; Cregan’s handshakes were nothing but firm.

“Lord Cregan, it is an honor to finally make your acquaintance.”

“I have heard much about you.”

“Ah,” Luke sighed, hand still enclasped in Cregan’s. “I’m sure all lies.”

“Only good things, your brother has shared high praises of you.”

Luke glanced over to his brother in surprise and Jacaerys only raised his eyebrows at him. Cregan finally let go of Luke’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder, sending the younger man nearly flying.

“How old are you, Lucerys?”

“Ten and eight, my lord. And please, call me Luke.”

“Very well,” Cregan said with a grin. “You’re the prime age of a young prince, Luke. Are you courting anyone?”

“No,” Luke replied, his cheeks reddening. Jacaerys only snickered, ignoring the deathly glare his younger brother sent him.

“No worry. There are a few of very beautiful ladies that will be attending, maybe one or two will catch your royal eyes.”

Cregan gave Jacaerys a knowing look, but he only rolled his eyes, stretching his hands, the coldness starting to seep into his gloves.

“I am about to lose feeling in my limbs, can we continue this dreadful conversation inside?”

“Of course. I apologize, I forget that you are not accustomed to our weather,” Cregan said, motioning for the pages to help the them with their bags. “Let’s get you into the warm, shall we?”

Cregan lead the two brothers towards the Great Keeps, giving Luke a very brief rundown of the grounds as he did. Jacaerys could already feel his fingers warming up; he even dared to take off his gloves.

“We are currently having tea, I would love for you to join but if you wish to get some rest, we can meet again after,” Cregan said, stopping in front of the dining halls.

Jacaerys glanced over to Luke, who only gave him a shrug. “I could do with some food.”

“As do I.”

“Very well.”

Cregan pushed open the door to reveal a lively dining hall, one that Jacaerys was familiar with. He spotted faces he recognized, when his eyes stopped in the middle of the table, surprised to see Lady Alysanne Blackwood sitting next to you, someone he didn’t recognize. Immediately, you turned your head to look at him, as if you had felt his eyes on you. Jacaerys tried not to falter under your gaze.

“Who’s that?” Luke whispered and Jacaerys fought the urge to elbow him.

“The Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon!” Cregan announced, causing a ruckus as everyone pushed their chair back to stand. You only followed after Alysanne gently nudged you, folding your hands in front.

“Thank you for having us,” Jacaerys said, him and Lucerys both bowing. “Please, sit.”

As everyone took their seats again, Cregan led him and Luke to the middle of the table, where three seats were empty next to Alysanne and you.

“My princes, may I introduce Lady Alysanne of House Blackwood and Lady-”

Jacaerys almost tuned out Cregan’s voice as he introduced you, but it was like your name was ringing in his ears. He was sure he had never been quite taken with any lady as with you right from the first meeting. Jacaerys cleared his throat, hoping his voice would come out even.

“Lady Alysanne, it’s nice to see you again,” Jacaerys said, bowing to her as Luke followed suit.

“The pleasure is mine, your graces. I hope your journey was swift,” Alysanne replied. “I hear you travelled on dragonback.”

That seemed to pique your interest as you straightened your back, eying Jacaerys with a new found interest. Jacaerys tried to ignore the heat unfurling in his lower stomach. He had seemed to take beat too long to reply, because Luke cut in, throwing a look at his older brother.

“Yes, my lady. It only took us a day and half’s journey.”

“Ah, I envy you. To travel on dragonback and have a short journey. It took me a moon’s turn to get from Raventree Hall to Winterfell,” Alysanne said with a small sigh, turning to you. “Nearly took you two moon’s turns, didn’t it?”

Jacaerys had kept his eyes steadfastly on Alysanne as she spoke, but when she turned to you, he took the chance to do the same. You nodded, fingers between the stem of the chalice you had been drinking from. His eyes lingered on your slender fingers for longer than they should have.

“Two moon’s turns is quite a long journey,” Jacaerys finally pressed out, hoping his voice didn’t sound odd. “Where in the Seven Kingdoms does your house lay?”

Your eyes met his for the first time and Jacaerys felt like he was looking in the eyes of a predator, as if he hadn’t been riding a dragon for nearly all of his life.

“I am from a land beyond Essos,” you finally spoke, voice as smooth as honey. Before you could continue, Alysanne whispered something under her breath and you let out a small laugh, shaking your pretty head, speaking again. “I’m afraid we’re not part of the Seven Kingdoms, your grace.”

The way you accentuated the honorific had Jacaerys sweat, something he never thought he’d do in Winterfell. He managed to give you a wry smile; luckily, Cregan finally gestured towards the empty seats and as Jacaerys sat down - two seats away from you - he let out a breath of relief, desperate for a quick respite. His behavior was mortifying and unbefitting for a crown prince.

“Are you alright?” Luke whispered from his left as he reached for a particularly large meat pie. “It is unlike you to let me do the talking.”

Jacaerys waited as the butler poured him some mulled wine, only stopping him when it was nearly full to the brim. He lifted the chalice, taking a big drink from it, feeling Luke’s eyes on him the whole time.

“It appears the journey has tired me more than I had expected.”

Luke narrowed his eyes at him, but as soon as he bit into the meat pie, the suspicions slid of his face.

“Seven hells, what kind of meat do they put in these?” he almost moaned, already reaching for another. Slob, Jacaerys thought, reaching for some bread himself, leaving his brother to his own world as he discovered the cuisine of the North. Jacaerys glanced over to his friend, but Cregan was in the middle of a conversation with Alysanne; they were speaking in hushed tones, Jacaerys could barely make out a word even though he was sitting right next to them.

The way Cregan was whispering to Alysanne suggested a certain familiarity; a familiarity that Jacaerys was surprised by; he hadn’t known that Cregan had taken on a lover, and Alysanne no less, though he could see what had drawn his friend to her.

Jacaerys didn’t pay attention for half a second before his eyes impulsively laid on you. He didn’t want to be caught staring, but you seemed preoccupied listening to Alysanne as she talked, so he allowed himself a few moments to take you in. Your hair fell over your shoulder in soft waves, the bodice of your dress was snug around your chest. The more he looked, the dryer his throat became, suddenly the bread in his mouth tasted days old. Letting out a soft cough, Jacaerys reached for his wine, nearly finishing all of it in one to, desperate to quench his thirst.

He wondered if all women from your land looked like you or if it was just you that had him so enthralled. Jacaerys was lost in thoughts so deeply, he didn’t even realize that Cregan had turned his attention to him.

“Did someone catch your eye?”

“What?”

Jacaerys teared his eyes from you to look at his friend, who was sipping on his wine, eyebrows raised. Despite trying to seem nonchalant, the crown prince knew a pink flush creeped on his cheeks; he’d blame it on the wine if Cregan would ask.

“I was enjoying the festivities.”

“You’re surely enjoying something.”

“I’m positively not enjoying this conversation,” Jacaerys sniffed. Cregan laughed, placing his heavy hand on his shoulder. Jacaerys tried not to falter under it.

“I like her. She’s a good friend of Lady Alysanne’s. Though if her behavior grates you: her land does not have a king or queen, so she might not be familiar with our customs. She is also especially forward; I fear that was a given, considering the company she seeks.”

Jacaerys knew immediately what Cregan was alluding to. Alysanne had a reputation for not holding her tongue when something displeased her, there were a good handful of people who quite dislike her for it.

“I’m sure you will get along with her fine, my prince.”

Jacaerys hummed, glancing over to you for a split second before looking away for fear of being caught again, but in doing so, he missed you looking back at him with raised brows. After the table was cleared, you and Alysanne excused yourselves to your chambers. Jacaerys stared after you until you disappeared from sight, his hands clasped.

“Let me show you to your chambers for some rest,” Cregan offered. “Jacaerys, I had the same chambers prepared as last time.”

The three men walked through the hallways of Winterfell once more, stopping in front of Jacaerys’ chambers.

“Someone will fetch you for supper, please get some rest in the meantime,” Cregan said, clasping Jacaerys on the back. Jacaerys glanced over at Luke, who waved him off, so he entered his chambers as Cregan walked Luke to his, with the latter chattering excitedly.

As the door shut behind Jacaerys, the chambers were engulfed in silence and he was finally able to breathe. The room was comfortably decorated, of course in no way as lavish as his chambers in King’s Landing, but everything he would need was there. Taking off his cloak and his doublet, Jacaerys hung them over the small bench that sat near the fire, before he laid down on the bed, staring up the canopy with a sigh.

Gods, he really needed to get it together. He would not allow himself to act like such a fool in front of you again. He couldn’t even understand what it was about you that had him so shaken to the core. Jacaerys had never been the kind of man who stuttered around when it came to women. He knew what he had to offer, he knew a lot of women found his status appealing. But something about you was just…. Infuriating. It made him lose his footing.

Jacaerys was still questioning his life choices that led to this moment, when the door suddenly flung open, and he knew immediately who it was without having to move; there was only one person in whole Winterfell who would barge into his chambers like this.

“Your chambers are so much nicer than mine!” Luke crowed, throwing his hands up in the air before he dropped onto the bed next to Jacaerys. “I do have to say, even though it is freezing outside, the Northeners know how to keep it comfy in their chambers.”

Jacaerys let out a small sigh.

“What are you doing here, Luke?”

“Gods, why are you such in a sour mood?”

“Maybe because I am tired from the journey and you’re sitting here talking about meaningless things,” Jacaerys lamented with a pointed look in his younger brother’s direction, who only pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Let me move onto meaningful topics then,” he agreed. “You didn’t tell me Lord Cregan is betrothed to Lady Alysanne.”

“He’s not, as far as I know,” Jacaerys replied, resigning himself to the fact that Luke wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. “I was taken by surprise just as you were.”

Luke didn’t answer; for a brief second Jacaerys wondered if he had fallen asleep, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be happy about or not.

“What did you think of her friend?” Luke finally asked and Jacaerys rolled his eyes. There it was. “She’s pretty, right? I think she might be interested in me.”

“What makes you think she would be interested in you?” Jacaerys pressed out, annoyed. He knew Luke was baiting him, but what if he wasn’t? His younger brother turned over to look at him, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

“I knew it. You’re absolutely smitten with her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I barely exchanged two words with her,” Jacaerys said defensively.

“Exactly. She makes you shiver in your boots like a child and swallow your words like Vermax does goats.”

“Blasphemous,” Jacaerys snapped, his cheeks growing hot. “I’m the Crown Prince of the Seven Realms, I do not get flustered around a lady.”

“I cannot wait until you talk to her again,” Luke remarked gleefully.

Jacaerys reached over to grab one of the fluffy pillows that was resting against the headboard to whack Luke in the face with it.

The next day, Jacaerys found himself with some time by himself. Cregan was greeting some more of the guests that were arriving for his celebration that evening, and Luke had wanted to see the training grounds of Winterfell, so Jacaerys ventured out by himself, walking the walls. He passed a few guards, who bowed respectfully as they marched past him. They asked if he got lost, if they should walk him back inside where it was warm, but he declined.

Despite the cold snow that was falling from the sky, Jacaerys enjoyed leaving the castle for a few moments. Winterfell was peaceful, the white that covered the grounds allowed him to breathe, a stark contrast to the grounds of King’s Landing. As the cold winds started to pick up, Jacaerys turned to head back, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing by yourself at the wall, staring out at the distance. Jacaerys hesitated.

His interaction with you last night at supper was… Passable. He had managed to keep the conversation going, he still wasn't happy with himself. But this was unfamiliar territory, he hadn’t ever been alone with you. What if he made a fool of himself?

Before Jacaerys could decide what to do, his feet already carried him over to you. At the sounds of the snow crunching under his soled shoes, you turned around, your eyebrows risen in surprise. Your cheeks were red from the cold, despite the fur-lined cloak that engulfed your shoulders.

“Oh, it’s you,” you said, your breath visible in the cold air.

“Only me,” Jacaerys confirmed, bowing his head slightly in greeting. You did the same. “Come out here for some quiet?”

“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.

“I should leave-”

“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf…. My prince.”

You added the honorific after a brief pause, and Jacaerys stayed rooted in his spot. You seemed like you were in deep thought, and your voice was hesitant when you spoke again.

“I am unsure as to what the difference is, if I’m being quite honest. Do you want me to refer to you as my prince or as your Grace?”

“You can refer to me as anything you want,” Jacaerys said quickly. Too quickly.

The frown on your face smoothed, a grin growing in its stead. “Indeed?”

“I meant,” Jacaerys pressed, trying to sustain any sort of dignity. “You’re not from Westeros, you do not need to address me as your Grace or my prince.”

“I wouldn’t want to seem disrespectful,” you added. “Folks are already whispering about the “foreign lady”, I do not wish to give them more reason to be suspicious.”

Jacaerys felt a flash of hot anger coursing through him at the belief of anyone uttering a bad word about you.

“Are you being mistreated, my lady?”

A laugh escaped your lips. “I did not tell for you to fight in my honor, I have endured worse than some meaningless gossip.”

You tossed your hair back, and for a brief second, your scent carried over to Jacaerys’ nose. You smelled… Sweet. A scent that was unfamiliar to him, but not exactly unwelcome. With a small sigh, you turned your head to look at him. Damn it, did you say something?

“So... Your grace or my prince?”

For some reason, either address didn’t feel right. Well. They felt right, but not right. Never before had Jacaerys felt anything when being referred to with the correct title except for a sense of respect and pride that he was being recognized for his status. But for some reason, having you address him with either had Jacaerys feel things in regions where he shouldn’t. And both seem equally catastrophic.

“Either is fine,” he finally settled on. “But if no one is around… It is alright for you to call me by my given name.”

“Jacaerys?”

A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of his name rolling of your tongue so easily. He was done for. No matter what you referred to him as, it made him weak in the knees.

“Or Jace.”

“Is that not improper?” you asked. “I would hate for folks to think I’m getting too familiar with the crown prince.”

He definitely wouldn’t mind getting too familiar with you.

“My friends call me that… And people that I’m close with.”

A corner of your mouth tugged up in a grin. “You wish to be close with me?”

Jacaerys flushed, stuttering. “I-“

“I’m only jesting,” you said, your gloved hand reaching out to touch his arm and even though there were about five layers between, Jacaerys could *feel* your skin on his. He was in trouble. “I will address you properly in public but if no one is around, Jacaerys….”

Your voice trailed off and you took a step towards him, leaning in so you could speak to him in a small whisper.

“I hope we can become friends.”

With that, you bowed your head, stepping back and turned to depart, leaving Jacaerys standing by himself. He exhaled a breath - a breath he had not realized he had been holding this whole time.

Somewhere in the distance, Jacaerys could hear Vermax screech out, no doubtedly feeling exactly what his dragon rider was struggling with.

“Yes, Vermax, you and me both,” Jacaerys muttered with a small sigh, enduring the cold for a little while longer before he retired inside, knowing he had to start getting ready for Cregan’s celebrations soon.

“How much longer are you going to stare at your reflection?”

Jacaerys resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He was tense enough as it was, giving into Luke’s teasing was not going to help it.

“I’m representing mother at this celebration, a single hair out of place and rumors about my legitimacy as heir might start,” Jacaerys pointed out, wiping off the fleck of dusts that sat on the shoulder of his doublet.

“Of course, we would not want that,” Luke said, his voice taking that annoying tone which Jacaerys knew meant he wasn’t taking him serious. “You are most certainly not trying to look absolutely perfect for a certain lady.”

Jacaerys met Luke’s eyes through the mirror, his forehead creased. “I did not ask you to wait for me. No one is stopping you from going by yourself.”

Luke sighed, pushing himself off of the bench to approach him, hands reaching out to smooth out Jacaerys’ cloak.

“And who is going to tame that one wild curl that always does whatever it wants at the back of your head?”

Jacaerys winced when Luke gently tugged on said curl, setting it in its place, before the younger prince grinned at him through the reflection as the two of them stood in front of the mirror, Luke's shoulders slightly higher than Jacaerys'. He despised the fact that his younger brother was starting to overtake him in height. Jacaerys hoped that Joffrey would stay shorter than him.

“You look fine, Jace,” Luke assured him. “And even if a hair might be out of place, she will think it charming.”

Jacaerys decided against deeming that comment with an answer, instead straightening his shoulders.

“Let’s go then.”

The two brothers headed the the Great Hall and the closer they got, the louder the music became. Jacaerys tried not to pick on his clothes as they walked through the hallways, knowing he was just being antsy at this point. When they finally reached the threshold of the hall, the herald bowed to them both respectfully, waiting until the music quietened down, the guests looking at them.

“Presenting His Grace, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne, and his brother, Prince Lucerys Velaryon of House Targaryen!” the herald announced.

The guests all bowed, which Jacaerys and Lukereturned, before they were being led to their seats and Jacaerys tried not to stumble over his feet when he realized that Cregan had sat Luke to his right, whereas Jacaerys sat next to him.

Right next to you.

Jacaerys ignored Luke’s smirk as he sat down, and instead offered you a small smile.

“My lady.”

“Your grace.”

You sent him a conspiratorial smile, before your attention refocused to Cregan, who suddenly stood, lifting his chalice.

"Good evening, my dear guests. On this occasion, the celebration of my name day, I am deeply honored to be surrounded by such loyal friends, family, and allies. I thank everyone who made their long and burdensome journey to celebrate this day with me. Raise your cups, my friends, enjoy the festivities, the music and most importantly, the food. Now, let the feast begin!"

Everyone clapped as Cregan took his seat again, the lively music beginning to play. Immediately, people rose to occupy the dancefloor. You stayed seated, sipping on your wine and Jacaerys watched you out of the corner of his eye, reaching for his own wine, hoping it would ease his nerves. You looked pretty; wearing a dark red dress, the fabric seeming to melt against your skin like it was sown onto your body. Jacaerys tried to not let his gaze linger too much on your cleavage, which was tasteful, but still incredibly distracting. He couldn’t help but think how you and him seemed to be dressed to compliment each other.

“You look very beautiful,” Jacaerys blurted out. You turned to him, eyebrows risen in surprise and his cheeks reddened. “I apologize if it was too forward, I-”

“You look very handsome yourself,” you said, returning the favor with a grin. “At least I know what took you so long to get here.”

By now, Jacaerys was sure that the color of his face rivaled the color of your dress.

“Thank you,” he said, fingers tracing the stem of the chalice. “I try to look my best.”

“It is working in your favor, my prince,” you all but purred quietly, making Jacaerys grip his chalice so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Jacaerys pressed out, letting a small sigh pass his lips. “I apologize. I am usually more… Composed,” he admitted. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he couldn’t help but feel like you were biting back a smile.

“And you’re not composed right now?”

“No. You…” he paused, letting go of the chalice, stretching his hand out. “You make me nervous.”

He dared to look up to you, searching for any sign of distaste, only to see your gaze focused on his hands, before you lifted your eyes to meet his.

“How?”

“You vex me.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

Jacaerys let out a breathless laughter, shaking his head. “In a very much not good way. This is not behavior befit for a crown prince.”

“Well, it’s just your luck that I have not a single idea of what behavior is befit for a crown prince,” you assured him, placing your hand on his, presumably to console him. It had quite the opposite reaction. “It is just me, you may speak freely.”

“I-” Jacaerys paused, his eyes darting around the countless of guests mingling in the Great Hall, the threat of a listening ear everywhere. “I cannot.”

You nodded in understanding, but Jacaerys could tell that his answer had disappointed you by the way you turned your head away from him. Silently, he cursed himself, feeling the desire for you coiling in his stomach, but unable to act on it.

For the rest of the night, Jacaerys tried to pick up the conversation with you again, and while you did speak with him, it seemed dull, like you were uninterested. He felt incredibly stupid, knowing he had messed up, but despite that, he couldn’t jump over his shadow to address the problem. So he didn’t. He pushed his disappointment in himself aside and tried his best to control the jealousy he felt whenever you accepted the dance of another man, acting like didn’t care at all, especially when Luke was watching, shaking his head.

Cregan was luckily too busy to entertain his guests to meddle, occasionally drawing Jacaerys into his side to clink their cups. Overall, (despite his personal failings) the celebration was a success. It was late in the night, nearing the hour of the wolf when Jacaerys finally retired to his chambers. He had dropped Luke off at his own chambers just before, his younger brother having one too many of the mulled wine and immediately dozing off in clothes.

Shutting the door with his foot, Jacaerys unpinned his cloak, tugging his doublet off, draping it over the small ottoman. His hands were in the collar of his tunic, ready to take it off when short raps on his door made him pause. Was that Cregan fetching him for another drink?

Jacaerys opened the door and his eyebrows rising in surprise when he saw who it was.

“My lady…”

You were standing in front of him, dark cloak slung around your shoulders, about the last person he had expected to come knocking on his door after his last conversation with you had gone. Your face was bare from any trace of cosmetics, but your cheeks still held a rosy glow. Jacaerys peered out into the dark hallway, expecting a handmaiden or anyone accompanying you, but alas, you were by yourself.

“It is late. Is something the matter?” he asked, concerned.

“Everything is fine,” you assured him. “I was feeling a bit restless, I was wondering if you were up for some company?”

Despite feeling exhausted just a few seconds ago, Jacaerys was wide awake now, his heart thrumming with excitement at the prospect of spending time with you alone. But he couldn’t help but hesitate, questioning whether it was smart of him to put himself in a situation he couldn’t control, especially with you.

You sensed his hesitation, tilting your head curiously.

“I can leave, if you wish.”

Before you could even attempt to retreat, Jacaerys’ hand shot out to stop you, and as he saw the amusement on your face, he knew you had never intended to leave.

Minx, he thought to himself, opening his door wider to let you inside. Swiftly, you passed by him and Jacaerys made sure no one saw you enter, before shutting the door. As he turned around, he found you had already settled on the cushioned couch, appearing comfortably at ease.

“These are usually my chambers I stay in when I visit Winterfell,” you said nonchalantly, taking in the chambers and Jacaerys’ possessions that laid scattered around. “You can imagine my surprise when Cregan told me it was occupied for someone else when I arrived.”

Jacaerys tried not to imagine you laying in his bed as he sat down on the bench.

“They are the chambers I stayed in when I visited last time. I assume Cregan wanted me to feel comfortable.”

“The lengths we would go to to make sure you felt comfortable,” you said with a look in his direction and Jacaerys flushed, clearing his throat.

“Do you like these chambers for a reason or are you merely a creature of habit?”

“These are the only chambers that don’t have the fire place directly facing the bed,” you explained, your arms gesturing to the layout of the chambers.

“I know the Northeners like to keep the fire on at night to feel cozy, but I tend to get a little… Hot.”

Oh.

His mouth ran a little dry and he only managed to blink at you, as you grinned, your eyes slowly trailing down his body.

“I imagine it is the same for you. What is it again, the motto of your house?”

Jacaerys opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out of it.

“Fire and blood?” finally pressed out and you arched an eyebrow at him.

“Are you asking or telling me?”

“Telling.”

Your mouth quirked up in a smirk and you brushed your hair back with a flick. “I must say, I have to admit that I thought you less nervous when no one was around.”

“You thought me less nervous when it is just you and I alone in a room?”

“Now when you say it like that…” you mused. “I told you that you do not have to worry about your behavior, I do not know any of the rules you have to abide by.”

“That’s not why I’m nervous,” Jacaerys said with a small laugh and you creased your forehead, looking at him questioningly.

“Is that not what you told me at supper?”

Jacaerys sighed, a chuckle leaving his lips and he had no other choice than to confess.

“You make me nervous because I do not know how to act around you. You make me stutter, lose my footing. I was never anything less than charming when it comes to talking to ladies, but you for some reason…”

Your face contorted from confusion to understanding and then glee.

“And I was starting to think you were letting me down easy.”

“I- what?” The indignation in Jacaerys’ tone made you laugh. “Let you down? Surely you must be jesting.”

“What was I to think? I was not exactly being subtle, my prince.”

Jacaerys bit down on his lower lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, but he eased off.

“I’m trying my best to uphold my honor. And yours.”

You let out a small laugh, lifting your hand to deftly unhook your cloak. Jacaerys averted his eyes as soon as the cloak slid off your shoulders, but he could see out of the corner of his eyes that you were wearing nothing but a nightgown with long lacey sleeves. Jacaerys had never seen a nightgown like that before.

“Would it not be dishonorable to deny yourself what you truly want?”

Jacaerys dared to glance at you, swallowing thickly when he realized that you had come closer, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. He exhaled sharply, feeling his cock stirring in his breeches, thankful that his tunic was untucked, covering his excitement.

“What if your future husband would cast you aside knowing you have laid with another man?”

You smiled at him, your hand reaching out to trace the neckline of his tunic.

“I think if my husband were to cast me aside for enjoying the pleasure of sex, he is not the right man for me.”

Jacaerys held his breath as you looked at him through your lashes. He managed to stay strong for about three more seconds, before he let out a frustrated groan, his hand curling around to pull you close, pressing his lips on yours.

You sighed softly into the kiss, your mouth pliable as Jacaerys moved against them, the kiss nearly driving him insane.

He needed more.

Tightening his grip on your waist, Jacaerys pulled you into his lap, situating your legs on either side of him.

“I have been going insane,” Jacaerys whispered against your lips, his finger tips dancing up your arm. “Trying to keep my composure, act like a prince, but one look from you and I lost the ability to string a sentence together.”

“Please,” you gasped as his hand wrapped around the back of your head to tilt it back, placing featherlight kisses on the column of your neck.” Cregan was telling me to behave - for once - because his great friend, the crown prince of the Seven Realms was to attend his nameday celebrations, but how could I when you’re just so-”

Your sentence trailed off in a sigh and Jacaerys pulled back to look at you, an eyebrow arched.

“I am so...?”

“Infuriatingly handsome.” Your voice was breathless as you spoke, hands slipping under his tunic and Jacaerys lifted his arms to help you take it off before you discarded it to the floor carelessly. “Like you were carved out of marble.”

You caressed him with your fingertips over his chest, your touch so tantalizing he had to shift his hips to ease the pressure on his breeches, a motion that did not go unignored by you at the sound of the small whimper that left your mouth, a sound that went directly to his south. He leaned in to kiss you again, before maneuvering you off his lap, standing so he could lead you over to the bed. His touch was gentle, but firm as you followed his lead to lay down at the edge of the bed, your nightgown bunching up at your calves.

“You don’t even know the affect you have on me… You had me on my knees,” he murmured, pushing your gown up. “I’m the crown prince of the seven realms. I don’t kneel for anyone.”

He might make an exception for you.

With his hands on your calves, pulling you closer, Jacaerys got to his knees, peppering small kisses on your inner thigh, making you squirm. He could smell the warmth of your musk as he neared your cunt, your smallclothes displaying a small patch of wetness he couldn’t help but be thrilled by.

“Lift your hips,” Jacaerys said, and when you did, he tugged your smallclothes off easily. He let out a soft breath when coming face to face with your cunt, sliding one finger through your folds. The moan out of your mouth sounded like heaven to him.

“Jace…” you sighed and his breeches got impossibly tighter, but he wanted you to finish first before he could even think about himself. Jacaerys applied a little pressure on your pearl with his thumb, inching closer, his breath hot on your lips before he licked a strip up your cunt. You responded with a small groan, your hands tangled into his locks and he knew he was on the right track.

He kept drawing circles on the small nub over your cunt, his tongue exploring between your folds, trying to elicit every moan and sigh out of your mouth possible, repeating his motions that seemed to please you the most. Soon, Jacaerys had you writhing on his bed, your hand tightened around his hair in a grip that nearly hurt, but he didn’t care.

“Jacaerys…” you breathed out, your hips lifting from the bed; he merely pushed it down with his free hand. “Don’t- I’m so..”

Jacaerys nuzzled his mouth even further into your cunt he not thought possible, the circles he was drawing onto your pearl becoming tighter, smaller until you let out an especially loud moan of his name, your cunt pulsating.

With a breath heave, you fell back into the cushions and Jacaerys pulled back from between your legs, not without leaving a lingering kiss on your inner thigh. You looked absolutely marvelous, blissed out on his bed, your sweaty hair sticking to your forehead. If he had to guess, he must not look any better, his entire face must be covered in you.

“Is this behavior befit for a crown prince?” you asked, chest still heaving. Jacaerys quirked a smile at you, brushing his hair back.

“For a lady like you, without question.”

A small laughter escaped your lips, and you tugged him down to kiss him, your hands slipping beneath his trousers and then his breeches, wrapping around his cock. Jacaerys hissed, bucking into your hands, realizing he was still fully clothes from the waist down. Giving you one last kiss, he reluctantly pulled away from you, taking his boots off, and then slowly pushing his trousers off, his smallclothes along with it.

He couldn’t help but flush as he stood in front of your inquisitive eyes, still wearing your nightgown but looking incredibly debauched, your gaze… Hungry. He got on the bed, crawling towards you on his knees, fingers gingerly pushing your nightgown off your shoulders - you didn’t lift a hand to help him, but merely watched as his eyes grew wide when he finally pushed your nightgown down, as it pooled around your waist.

“You were made by the gods,” he mumbled into your skin, mouth latching on the sensitive skin of your tits, his other hand gently rolling your nipples until it formed into a stiff peak. He leaned up, kissing you deeply and as he moaned into your mouth, he pulled away, breathing hard.

“Do you…” he trailed off, unsure how to word it.

“I will die an immediate death if I don’t,” you said, extremely serious. “Lay back.”

As Jacaerys settled into the mountain of cushions, you knelt in front of him, nightgown long gone. You positioned yourself over his lap, just as he had earlier, hand wrapping around his cock to guide it to your cunt, which was still sopping wet. Jacaerys let out a slow, guttural groan as you lowered yourself onto his cock, until he was fully sheated inside of you.

“Are you feeling alright?” he pressed out, his hands finding your hips to pull out incase you were feeling uncomfortable.

“Perfect,” you breathed, lips parted and eyes hooded. You leaned a hand on his chest, impulsively rolling your hips and Jacaerys moaned, throwing his head back. Slowly, the two of you found your rhythm as you rode him, in slow, but deep hip thrusts. His chambers was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin, whispers of his name and moans of yours. It wasn’t long until Jacaerys felt the familiar tension in his lower stomach, knowing he was close, while you were still moving on top of him, head thrown back.

If he had it his way, he would shoot his load into you, making you his, but the last thing he wanted was to trap you, so he stilled your hips, holding you in place and turning you so he was on top of you. Your hair fanned out on the bed, and Jacaerys kissed you, tongue licking into your mouth as he drove his cock into you with deep, but slow thrusts; his thumb was pressing into your pearl simultaneously.

“Jace,” you whined, your walls clenching and he nearly lost it right then and there. “Please…”

Jacaerys snapped his hips into you harder, leaning his head against yours as he did and after one particular deep thrust, you held onto his bicep as you moaned his name in a way that would ingrain into his brain for the rest of his life and he quickly pulled out, before he emptied his load in thick, white spurts onto your stomach. With a small groan, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed next to you, neither speaking for a few seconds, catching your breath.

Jacaerys was the first to rise, pushing his hair back, standing to find a wet rag to clean you up. His touch was gentle as he cleaned your stomach, disposing of the dirty rag, lingering on the side of the bed.

“Do you want to stay? For a little while, at least?”

You turned your head to look at him, corners of your mouth tugging up. “If you’ll have me, my prince.”

Jacaerys snorted out a laughter, settling into bed next to you, making sure to pull up the blanket to cover your naked body, even though a warmth was emanating from you, it was rivaling his own.

“Are you sure you’re not a distant kin of Aegon the Conqueror?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. “You would fit right into our house.”

“I find it very flattering that you think I have royal blood in me,” you laughed as your fingertips traced along his arm.

“It is only a question,” Jacaerys mused. “I think you would get along well with my mother.”

“A foreign girl in front of the esteemed queen of the Seven Realms? I wouldn’t stand a chance. Her royal knights would behead me as soon as I curtsied the wrong way.”

And as the fire crackled in the far corner of the chambers, pressed against your side, Jacaerys knew that while you spoke in jest, he wouldn’t mind you meeting his mother, even if that was highly unlikely. Coming the following morning it seemed like he would never see you again, with you returning home and him returning to King’s Landing.

And while he was a dragon rider, he wasn’t sure if that distance would be easy for him to cover, considering the fact he had duties he had to attend to, he couldn't just leave whenever he pleased, no matter how much he wanted to.

“I really enjoyed your company,” you then said, your voice a bittersweet tone. Jacaerys pressed his nose against your neck, biting back the question if you wanted to come with him, see King’s Landing. He knew he was being foolish.

“As did I yours.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: hehehehehe did u like it?

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

How Valentino got Angels Soul

I just realized something about the dynamic between Valentino and Angel Dust. It rather obvious now I look back on it, but with all my rewatches, I sort of took the two together at face value.

I assumed, without much thought, Angel Dust was a new soul. Scared shitless and took the first deal that offered him some type of protection-Valentino. It's just the vibe I picked up on.

But I actually, thought about them more today and realized how wrong I was with that point blank view.

Angel died in 1947 while Val was 1970's. Angel been wondering around Hell with his own soul for minimum of 3 decades and been going by the name Anthony the entire time. -'Im putting Valentino being powerful overlord in the 80s.

Side note: I personally headcanon, it takes a new soul to achieve overlord power the minimum of 10 years with the exception of Alastor. The new sinner need time to adjust to their new bodies, learn their abilities, and the politics and ways of Hell. And the sinner needs to gain their power a little slowly, I think if they go to fast it alarms other overlords and just make the wannabe overlord a target. So, I say 10 years minimum to achieve overlord power. 10 years a drop in the bucket in eternity)

Other side note: I think Angel Dust soul is actually older than Val if you combine their biological age and their time in Hell. Weird right? What's weirder is Angel biological age is a few years younger then Alastor. whaaaaa? Angle just vibing he is much younger then Alastor when they were alive but apparently Angel died in his 30s, while Alastor is 30-40s

So how did the two got together?

Well, for starters, I think Angel was just scraping by Hell for those first few decades. He lived literally in a Hellhole. Get it? because they are in Hell? nevermind. Anyways, his living quarters was probably literally some hole in a wall that he found and probably have to share with other unfortunate souls. Any money Angel scraps up and spent on drugs. He lived his days getting fucked up by drugs or suffering withdrawals. He sold himself for quick cash grabs for more drugs.

Then one night, Valentino found Angel trying to do one of these quick cash makes. He saw a lot of potential in Angel. He so gorgeous. He promise to make Angel night worthwhile if he gets in his limo. Which to be honest, is the fancy place he done in what he felt like forever.

Angel didn't realize who he was dealing with. A freshly raisen overlord. "He doesn't pay attention to politics" remember?

It was a grand night. The drug flowed and Angel basically had the taste of the high life hanging with Val that night. Angel tried new drugs that night too. He usually strapped for cash so when he bought drugs, it was something familiar. He didn't want to spend his nearly non existent cash on something he didn't know on how it hits. Eventually Val took Angel to his place and had sex. Val purposely wasn't ruthless during this. In fact, Angel never felt more safe since he landed in Hell.

Val try to sway Angel to selling his soul to him. Making promises that were too good to be true. "I'll make you a star, famous!" "No one will dare harm you if you are contracted to me." All the while, blowing smoke in Angel face and other pheromone based moves. Angel was tempted but there no way he was selling his soul.

"I only own you partially...I will only own you while you are in my studio...I own you part time and you get the full time benefits."

Angel was still on the hesitate and left. While Val cooing "you know where to find me when you change your mind."

Angel return to his shit hole home. After the night of spent living the good life...it was extra miserable. Val pheromones was still in his system. He missed feeling safe in Val four arms with the promise of protection. The new drugs...which he starting to crash from pretty hard. He needs that fix again...bad.

Angel returned asking if the deal still available. One that can make him famous and be protected by Val.

-yes

"I can still keep my soul? that you only own it while in your studio?

-yes. Sensing Angel is still hesitant and using the knowledge that Angel complained about his living situation after seeing the sweet grand living space Val has. "How about I sweeten the deal...I'm feeling very generous. I can offer you room and board if you were more hours to earn it." Angel perked at this. "You will have your very own room...right at the studio...how convenient is that?" Angel was ecstatic about the idea of his own space. privacy and comfort. Fuck yea.

(Im sure theres more technical bits like, Angel required to work minimum of 40 hours a week to however long Val wants him. That way Angel can't just walk away when he had enough. It also give Val a loophole of making him work longer hours)

Which is why Val was so furious when Angel moved out. He lost complete control on Angel soul by that. I wouldn't be surprised actually forgot that clause and was pleasantly surprised when he realized he didn't feel the constraint invisible chain outside the studio.

"It's a deal" Not fully realizing that Val owns his soul outside of filming while in the studio. Angel signed and Val set out some celebrotory drugs.

Angel recognized it from the other night and its the new ones that he really enjoyed. "What's this stuff called again?"

"Angel Dust, its popular in my time." Val answered without looking up from the newly signed contracted. "Hey darling, you need to pick a stage name, Anthony not going to cut it."

Angel considers it for a moment as he done a line. Drugs got him into Hell, this drug got him back to Val it seem only fitting and it sounds pretty. "Call me Angel Dust."

Again, its pretty obvious why Val was so upset that Angel moved in retrospect but their dynamic changed a lot to me once I looked more into it. It explains why Anthony signed his name with his real name...because he didn't have his porn star name yet. Angel Dust was huge during Val time and not really around as much during Angel. So I can see Val introducing it to Angel and getting him hooked on it and also inspired his porn star name.

Just my idea but who knows, some of you might enjoy it.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 15 thoughts

i'm back! i was got halfway through the episode yesterday when a storm knocked the power and the internet off so i was sadly unable to finish the ep OR post my thoughts :( but i finished it now!!!

so this episode was about "voodoo" and you have maybe been able to tell from my previous posts, but i love studying religions and belief systems. so honestly i was pretty frightened this episode was going to be all "ahhh look how scary this belief we don't understand is!" and like. haitian vodou has been one of THE biggest victims of this line of thinking. so i was pleased that the real villain of the episode was a white man abusing his power.

and yes, they did make vodou seem ~spooky~ but: i'm pleased the bad guy was a real bad dude and not a caricature of what americans think a scary evil priest would look like.

so let's jump in!

we start the episode with hearing a baby crying. which is never a good way to begin, as far as i am concerned. just not for me.

it's a wife and a husband and this husband seems evil. he snaps at his wife and from his first line i was torn between "this man is genuinely an abusive monster" or "this man is being brainwashed" and thankfully it was the brainwashing route

he screams at his wife and child until the both cry and then he sees his breakfast turn to worms.

worms for breakfast... might sound wild to you, but for a bird, that's just an ordinary day.

he then gets in his car and crashes into a tree and we see some sort of sign on the tree he crashes into....... and this is the SECOND fellow that has died working at this refugee camp....

roadtrip with our agents to north carolina!!!!

(i made a post when i was like halfway through s1 about all the roadtrips these 2 go on and how they allowed them to get to know each other, and a few people were like "um they take planes?", but my POINT ON THE BONDING STANDS and also here is evidence of a REAL road trip)

they step out and both of their trench coats are billowing in the wind. a beautiful sight.

we're learning about what has been going on at this refugee camp they are visiting, where the soldiers have been dropping like flies... they mention that there was a riot recently, and a little boy killed, and i'm thinking, maybe that kind of trauma can lead a person to crash a car or harm themselves? i realize i sound like scully as i type that!!! a real skeptic!!! but it seems plausible.

they visit the home of the new widow and she's like "well that symbol on the tree was ALSO there when the first guy died... and get this... it was on this shell my baby found!" which led to my (joking) theory that it was the baby that was doing the killing... baby witchcraft is likely super effective, compounded by their innocence to create a super critical hit... alas, this theory had no backing

but evil babies aside, she's really freaked out because her late husband's friend grew up in new orleans and says that this is the type of voodoo he saw down there, so... interesting

they go into the refugee camp to ask around, and someone grabs scully, when a boy intervenes and tells the dude who grabbed her to get lost in french and i was SO proud because i knew what he was saying... like yeah i guess my duolingo IS paying off...

(all he said was "vas-tu" but hey! i was still proud)

the child then tries to smooth talk them into buying a good luck charm and mulder buys it which had me LAUGHING... like truly he sees a child and he will support them financially.

(i thought perhaps that the good luck charm would open up and be the symbol we earlier associated with destruction and make them a target but i was wrong!!! it just was a genuine ward against evil. thank u little boy named chester)

one of the military men says that "voodoo caused a riot" and as far as riot causes go i think that is not in the top 10 most common... i'm willing to guess that perhaps it is the awful treatment people in a refugee camp receive... but sure. blame a belief system! (/s)

scully goes to look at the body of the first man that died and JUMPSCARE! his body has been replaced in the morgue with some kind of dog? it looked like a hyena to me, which raised the question: where do you source a hyena in north carolina? no answers were provided

our agents visit the man who is blamed for starting the riot- who is named bauvais, what a wonderful name that is- and he says that the symbol they found was that of the loco-miroir, a crossroads between two worlds that shows the true self. so i'm thinking, perhaps if that is the case, these men that died were being tormented because of the awful things they did to the refugees?

he also describes the dog creature in the morgue as "a warning" which hm. i mean. could be.

scully is doing some driving now, which i noted because it was unusual, and she almost hits someone! (is this why she doesn't normally drive?)

i jest, of course, because who is in the road but... the dude who we earlier saw crash into a tree? the dude whose wife and baby we visited who were mourning his loss? this man? so... he isn't dead?? this part of my notes had many question marks

i guess i assumed that they... you know... had triple checked that he was really dead...

they check his blood and there is some poison in there that scully says is in pufferfish, which are eaten in japan, and i'm like queen i love you so bad, i love that you can look at a chemical and know what fish it comes from, and where in the world they eat that fish....... truly my most beloved

it appears that this man who is newly back from the dead/never dead at all was in a zombie-like state. and mulder is going on about how there are rumors of haitian zombies- which i had heard before, but don't recall anything about- and he is basically being a Nerd

(they're both nerds. i love people who know random Stuff. it's actually a one-way ticket to my heart. no lie!)

((but as for the accuracy of their belief system, i have a feeling it is truly more complex than just the western notion of zombies- i never got to dive into african and diaspora religions in class, so fact-checking this episode is an excellent excuse for me to jump down a rabbit hole))

okay so new proposed theory: take the pufferfish poison... fake a death... but why?

they visit the graveyard to go and find the body of the first man who passed away- but a fellow who watches the graveyard notes that the body snatchers got there first. THE BODY SNATCHERS? did we skip a few centuries back? he says "the voodoo types are buying" which. um. okay.

he ends this by calling the theft of remains "uncool" and for sure. i'd have to agree with that assessment.

but in the distance we see the little boy from earlier- chester- digging about! could HE be the body snatcher? well, mulder is gonna find out!

they chase him down only to find he has a bag of a ton of frogs LMAOOO they had to get those paid frog actors from the last episode in again somehow

so they bring this child- who i think has sadly lost all of his frogs at this point- back to get some food, and this is where i lost all power and was forced to wait a whole day to learned what happened next!

but i picked up here today. this episode was giving me flashbacks to the episode eve from s1. because these two are gonna find a youth and get them a meal. and i appreciate that about them.

anyway, he says he just sneaks out and back into the camp somehow. chester says he sells frogs to bauvais. we love a little guy who is always hustling.

he ate all of his food and mulder gives him more money to go get some more and it is soooo funny to me how mulder interacts with children. it's actually deeply sweet. he is gonna make some random kid on his case smile no matter what.

(oh man. this is the type of guy who is gonna be all "come on, sport, let's go toss the ball around", huh? if he weren't too busy going about chasing aliens and almost dying, i'd say that man would make a decent father)

scully's still in logic mode, saying maybe it was the frogs who made the poison. and yeah, some frogs do in fact make poison, but i'm not sure if north carolina is where you're gonna find em. but i guess there are evil creatures in the south like pythons and black widows so we can't rule it out?

mulder leaves scully in charge of watching chester while he go sees who has been following him. a very perceptive guy. sometimes.

oh!!! it's a fellow we've seen before!! he's a private, and he was friends with the deceased, and he was the one who told the now widow about the voodoo rituals he grew up with. and he refuses to talk with chester around so they have him wait in the car

now, we have dealt with evil children on this show before, but this little dude is not giving evil vibes to me. i find him endearing. which perhaps is what the writers WANT me to think... but no. turns out he was just a nice little dude lmao.

so the private who grew up in louisiana and is now stalking the agents explains that bauvais promised the colonel who is watching over the camp that his men would drop one by one unless they are returned to haiti. he also mentioned that colonel increased "the beatings"

HUH????? he increased them? as in there were some going on before, and now there are more????

scully asks why no one has filed a complaint, and he says "none of us feel good about it, ma'am, but we don't join the marines to feel good" okay but that isn't an answer... like you know that isn't an answer... right??

he's going on about a woman back home dying before her wedding night and the doctors finding snakes in her stomach and scully is like well that sounds fake as hell. and he counters with NUH-UH IT WAS MY FIANCE. ooooh scully was gagged. like what do you even say to that. (zuko voice) "that's rough, buddy"

NOOOO chester broke free from the car.... this is always a risk when leaving children to their own devices. it does make him seem more suspicious, and i was ROOTING for him!!! mulder chases him down because remember, mulder is a track star

and then i think, is this the scene where he sees a cat that has crossed my dash before? yes, it is! a meowing is heard as soon as i wrote those words in my notes. so my hypothesis is that the boy turned into the cat. because he said he gets in and out of the camp as he pleases! and what creature could do that with greater ease than a cat?

(by the end of this episode, my theory is challenged. but it's still nice to imagine)

the colonel is being a man baby... who is shocked? it sure isn't me!!! he's furious to hear about the body being gone, and says "what kind of barbaric religion would desecrate a grave?" to which i gesture vaguely to all cases of a body being moved after being buried, which we usually understand as the work of individuals and not place the blame on entire belief systems... but i got the subtext. he's a bigot.

scully asks him about the beating allegations and he says no way, if anyone is being beaten its actually my men. and then they leave him to eat his breakfast. they clearly do not believe what he had to say

at this point i had flashbacks to the first breakfast scene we saw, and thought that it was going to turn into bugs- but it didn't! instead his food started BLEEDING. gross

so they're going back in the car to go to the motel and scully turns the key and something cuts her hand?!? it looked at first like barbed wire, but then we see it's some kind of thorny branch. conspicuously placed in their vehicle!

"let me see that", says mulder, to whom she replies "oh it's nothing", and he looks visibly annoyed at not being allowed to investigate her little hand cut. let him doctor you sometimes, scully, he needs to feel useful. also you're gonna get blood on the wheel!!!!

at this point i'm freaking out, because what kind of plant was that?! what if it's poison? what if it's the poison that is also in pufferfish and frogs and makes you see stuff?

they speed off and we see... their car had the mark beneath it!!! the mark from earlier which is associated with destruction!!!!!!

cutscene to the colonel beating bauvais. no one is shocked. but it is still a sad sight. he's asking him how he does the magic.

mulder opens the door to his room and a ten of diamonds falls out. he seems to know what this means, even though i do not, and goes to route 10, where he meets...?

DEEP THROAT 2.0?? in north carolina??? mulder says he thought their last meeting would have been their final- remember, when he told mulder to stop chasing down the people involved with scully's kidnapping, and then shot a guy right in front of him, then came back to say the bad guys were gonna search his house- remember that? seemed pretty final to me as well. but clearly not

he says that their search is faltering, and that in 24 hours everyone but the military will be denied access to the camp. mulder is pissed, and is asking why the refugees are being held up, and why are they being beaten, and he says that "those people are innocent civilians, some people in congress might have a problem with that". deep throat 2.0 points out that by the time congress makes an investigation committee, their tracks will be covered, which rings true. but damn, mulder believing- or wanting to believe- that the government will helps people says so much about his character.

so basically deep throat 2.0 shows up to antagonize him for not being on the right track and then leaves. much like deep throat 1.0.

we see scully back at the motel, and her hand is covered in spots and blood, and i wrote a "NOOOOOOO" in my notes because i was distressed!!!!

she knocks on what she thinks is mulder's door- it's door 7, i thought he was in 10?- and the door is unlocked, so she just walks in. but she hears water running, like a shower/bath, so she just talks to mulder through the door LMAOOOO i thought that was so sweet. very married behavior. talking to the husband (platonic or romantic or a secret third thing) while he showers. the private they spoke to went AWOL! isn't that interesting, mulder?

mulder...? there's bloody water pouring in beneath the door?

she busts it open, probably thinking the worst, and it's the louisiana private from before laying dead in the bathtub while water runs. which is definitely not a great thing, but at least it wasn't mulder dying in there. who, conveniently, makes an entrance, holding our first zombie man at gunpoint!!! and zombie man was holding a dagger!!! things are not looking good for him!!!

they take him in for questioning but honestly i was still worried about her hand at this point. like is anyone gonna tend to it.

we learn that... BAUVAIS IS DEAD? allegedly at his own hand. but given that we saw the colonel beating him... let's just say i do not believe it

scully's grasping her forehead, and mulder is asking what's wrong, and she's saying "i'm fine, it's just a headache", and here i made a note to psychoanalyze the fact that the doctor is unwilling to doctor herself. and i WILL have lots to say on that at a later date.

so the newly-dead-in-the-bathtub private gave his friend's wife something to give to the agents if anything happened to him. and they open it up, and it's a photo of the colonel WITH bauvais. so clearly they knew each other. but how? it really isn't answered tbh

they sneak into his office. nice. and they find CHICKEN FEET in his drawers, on top of papers from the dead privates, who had filed complaints against him. so they DID try to make things right and not just blindly follow orders like the one dude implied!

and then mulder opens a chest, and he holds up some dog tags...

but freeze! a soldier tries to stop them. he only gives up when they show that the dog tags belong to the dead privates, and that the BONES of the very first man are sitting in the chest. BONES??? i did not see that one coming. he KEPT THEM??? and he tried to play it off like someone else did it??? oh colonel you are a sick and twisted individual

and now the colonel is back at bauvais' grave, digging it up, chanting haitian creole and holding a knife. um. not great.

the agents roll up to the scene and scully is hiding her face. "what is it, scully?" he asks; she deflects with an "i'm alright". he astutely responds with a "you don't look alright", at which point i am cheering because YEAHHHH WHUMP NATION. HERE WE ARE!!!! MAKE SOME NOISE!!!!

(i mean, it's bad timing, with a wild colonel they need to go catch, but still. when you get a trope you like, you hold it dear. she tells him to go get the colonel and she'll stay in the car)

i thought that perhaps she was hiding her face because she was seeing things, and then she starts... coughing up blood?? and i'm horrified and wondering if this is real or another trick of the poison, and then her hand starts pouring water and a whole dude comes out of it, at which case i realize we are in hallucination town

and back in the graveyard, the colonel is speaking creole in a demon voice, and he moves his hand and mulder is like... stabbed?? or something??? maybe not with a knife but like psychically? he's down for the count

back to scully cam, the man who had emerged from her hand is speaking in a demon creole as well, so she grabs the good luck charm from chester and BAM! everything clears. shoutout to chester for being a real one. i noted that i knew he was a cat, and just as i typed that, a black kitty showed up on top of the car!!!!!!!!

so, now free from the clutches of evil, she runs out to get mulder, who has been lying in the graveyard.

and the FIRST THING this man says is "you're okay?"

AHHHHHH (inconsolable screaming for a really long time)

mulder, who was laying in a graveyard face down with either a real or a psychic stab wound, and after having witnessed some demon fuckery- immediately his mind goes to making sure that she was okay. oh that terrible, terrible need to protect kicking in, as natural and as undeniable to him as breathing. these two are so intertwined it's sickening. aughhhh i am tearing up typing this. what have they turned me into....

so it appears colonel wharton has been killed by the spirit of bauvais, at least according to what the viewer sees and also mulder's report, so cosmic revenge has been served. scully didn't see all this go down, however, so she just sees him in his coffin and is like ???? but again mulder was face down in the dirt so. she's probably thinking, well, who knows what actually happened

but, direct action worked: the refugees are now being repatriated! the agents ask to see the list of people who are returning and are confused because chester isn't on there. and the soldier says, oh right, that poor boy, he died in the riot a while back

HUH??????? he wasn't really there the whole time? he was a benevolent spirit who ate the french fries they bought him and maybe appeared as a cat???

i love that for him. and i'm also deeply sad to learn that he was dead the whole time. but i'm happy that he is getting to spend the afterlife hustling people and digging for frogs.

(of course, that is, if you believe the mulder sort of theory..... now, if you're scully, you're probably thinking, huh, weird that little boy lied about his name... but then again, after her paranormal nurse experience, i'm not sure she's entirely convinced that positive spirits aren't out and about. there has to be a tiiiiny part of her that holds out hope, even if it's scary)

so, the episode ends with the guy who earlier proclaimed body snatching uncool burying the colonel. and we see that- surprise- he wasn't actually dead! he was somehow also put into a zombie-like state, and is screaming as he is buried alive. ah, justice has been delivered.

overall, i liked this episode! the approach towards handling haitian vodou could definitely have been better and less exoticised, but frankly i was expecting a lot worse. i thought it was an interesting premise, i liked little chester, and there are some ambiguities- like, how did the colonel know bauvais? what put them in the zombie state? was it poison from the thorns that caused the hallucinations? if so, why would the good luck charm clear it? but they were ambiguous enough to just leave me feeling curious, rather than entirely stumped like the last episode did. because i'm still trying to put the pieces in place with that one. i was really thinking it over in the shower today.

anyway, loved their interactions this episode- loved worried mulder, loved trying to play it cool and strong scully, loved her thinking it was his room and waltzing in and reporting while he showered, loved freshly stabbed man asking if she was okay, loved mulder meeting another child and saying i'm gonna make this kid smile, loved him looking pissed when she wouldn't show him the cut on her hand, loved a corrupt military official being buried alive. a lot to enjoy here.

[yournerdy-gaysibling]

Hi this is my first time in this app so no hate. I just wanted to test out my writing skills here. And I've been seeing a LOT of ATSV on here,so without further ado, my spider-sona. P.S the relationship between my OC and Miguel is like Jinx and Silco from Arcane.

My POV

Hobie, Gwen, Miles, and Pav all walk into Miguels "office" ( I think that's what you would call it). Miles is about to say something to him when a girl jumps down Infront of him.

Yeah, I wouldn't that if I were you, he's currently doing his daily brooding session, It's a thing. I said

Thanks for the tip kid, but quick question...who are you? Miles asked

I looked at him with such irritation that my stare could blow a hole through him. Fortunately for him Gwen saw I was upset and went to talk to Miles.

Hey Miles, maybe it's best not to make the bosses daughter mad on your first day here. Gwen said to Miles

Wait, daughter?!? Miles asked

Oye, Messi how have you been, haven't spoke to you in a sec. Hobie said to me.

I've been good Hobie thank for asking, you know I found this new restaurant I want y'all to try with me it's called-. I was about to finish my sentence but Miles interrupted.

WAIT, Uhh sorry new guy here, YOUR THE BOSSES DAUGHTER?!? He asked still confused

Well no, not exactly, I mean not biologically...or legally. I said

What, I'm still confused. Miles said

Ok let's start from the beginning. My name Is Mesiel Sanchez, I was bitten by a radioactive spider when I was 10. And for the past 4 years I have been Washington Highest ( as in Washington heights like the musical, don't hate) one and only Chica-araña. And well you know the rest. I've been dancing since I was 4 so I finally joined team, got my butt handed to me not gonna lie. I had a twin sister and a brother figure they both died on my 12th birthday. And coincidentally that also happened to be the day the world was after me for something I didn't do. On that day Miguel showed up and saved me from my abusive family and the city that hated me. So I've lived in Nueva York for a good amount of time. Well except every now and then when I have to go back to the Heights. I said out of breath.

Wait, so your 14?!? Miles asked still stund about my age.

Yeah I am, so what about it, age is just a number. I said a little annoyed.

Ah they grow up so fast. Hobie said wiping his fake tears away like he was a proud parent.

DO YOU GUYS EVER SHUT UP. Miguel asked pissed off at us.

Oh great, he's mad. I said rolling my eyes. Well, I'll catch you guys later. I said shooting my webs trying to swing away when Lyla closed the exit doors on me.

Lyla what the hell girl?!? I asked confused

Sorry girl Miguels orders. She said with an upset look.

As she said that I looked up at the platform to see Miguel, looking down on everyone like he was a god. I honestly do get very annoyed by him sometimes.

Oh no young lady don't think you can just leave like that. Miguel said to me

Oh my God, en serio papá, vamos, ¿de verdad me vas a hacer así? I asked annoyed

Hey don't give me that young lady remember your still grounded. Miguel said back

We both started getting into the argument not even paying attention to our surroundings.

Jeez, are they always like this? Miles asked a little concerned.

Yeah pretty much but you get used to it after a minute. Peter said from behind.

PETER, dad look it's your boyfriend, so can you please go spend time with yours so I can go spend time with my girlfriend, please. I asked desperately

Come on Miguel let the girl go out for a little bit, besides your a little busy here don't you think. Peter said convincing Miguel.

Miguel sighed, fine but be back before sun down. Miguel said to me.

Thanks dad love ya, bye guys. I said to everyone

Bye Messi, tell America I said hi. Pav said

*time skip to when I get back*

I walk back into my dad's office. I was walking instead of swinging because I wanted to surprise my dad. I got there a silently got under the platform and was about to say hi when I heard him speaking.

Oh Gabri, how I miss you. You were the best daughter I have ever had. I mean yes I have Messi, but she's to ambitious to chaotic. I just wish you could be here, you would be amazing at being a Spider, I love you kid.

Once Miguel finished I started to cry as I jumped down with a thud that made Miguel turn his head and look at me. He sighed

How much of that did you hear? He asked

Enough. I say with tears streaming down my face.

Listen Messi i- save it Miguel I don't need an explanation now that I know I'm just here to fill the empty void left by your daughter. I said cutting him off.

Miguel just stood there quite, to guilty to say anything.

lo siento, solo tengo una tendencia a olvidar cuando estoy siendo amado... y siendo usado. I said as I started to walk away.

Messi por favor no quise decir niña! Miguel said with hurt in his eyes

Forget it Miguel. I said walking out

At least tell me we're your going. I just wanna know if your gonna be safe. Miguel said

Not that you care, but if it lets you sleep with a clear conscience, I'm staying America for the night.

As I finished my sentence I left without another word.

-------------------

Hi guys it's me yournerdy-gaysibling. I hope you liked this and tell me if you want a part 2 ❤️🏳️‍🌈

[letarasstuff]

Where do you go?

(A/N): This is requested by an anon and based on this post.

Summary: How does Hotch’s daughter, who everyone goes to with their own problems, cope with her mother’s death two years later?

Warnings: Angst. Grief. Dealing with a loved one’s death

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

“Hey (Y/N), I really need your help with Tim. Do you have a minute for me?” (Y/N) turns around to see a boy from her science class. It’s not like she knows him that much, they occasionally team up for small projects, there is nothing more behind that.

“Uh of course. I just had my last class, so I got time for you.” She smiles and lets him, Vincent is his name she thinks, rant to her about how his boyfriend doesn’t understand his needs.

This is nothing out of the ordinary for her, to be asked for advice. She simply is a good listener and gives good tips, the best even according to people close to the teenager. The problem is her limited knowledge on relationships. “Coaches don’t play”, Hotch tells her. And he intends on keeping it that way.

“That does really suck. Did you try to talk to him about it?” (Y/N) asks the boy in front of her. Suddenly he bursts into tears, describing how he only sees breaking up as a solution. She awkwardly pats his back and says encouraging words to him. That he will make the right decision, that he shouldn’t rush it and that he has to take his time.

After Vincent, or is it Gordon, calms down he looks up at the girl. “Thank you for listening. You were a great help, (Y/N).” He hugs her and leaves.

As she looks over the parking lot she spots her father’s car. Excitedly (Y/N) walks over and gets onto the passenger seat. “Hey, I didn’t know you pick me up today”, she greets him.

“We finished the case early and I was on the way home and thought giving you a lift wouldn’t hurt. Who was that boy? Is there something I should know?” Hotch looks at her from the side. But his daughter shakes her head. “Don’t worry, he is gay. He just needed a shoulder to cry on about his ruined relationship.”

“You do know you are not the school’s therapist, don’t you? At this point your classmates should pay you.” He tries to joke about it, but as a father he is worried. Since Haley died, (Y/N) took it upon her to make sure everybody is happy, no matter at what costs.

“I know, Dad. I’m fine and Alex feels better.”

A few days later (Y/N) sits in JJ’s living room, watching the mother go from one place to the next. “Food is in the fridge, so help yourself. Henry’s bedtime is in half an hour, please make sure he goes to sleep by then. He should be easy to put down, Will made sure to tire him out earlier. All important numbers are on the fridge. Feel free to watch anything on the TV.”

The teenager volunteered to babysit Henry, giving his parents a child free evening. “Thank you, JJ. We will rock this, don’t we?” She looks down to the boy on her lap, who nods his head.

“Good. Behave for (Y/N), ok?” The mother gives her son a kiss on the head. After Will’s goodbye the couple is gone.

“Ok, how about we get real comfy on your bed and I read you a story?” Henry nods again. He takes (Y/N) by her hand to his room. As suggested they lay down on his bed.

“Which one do you want me to read to you?” But the boy looks unsure all of a sudden. “Can we just talk?” Surprised the teenager nods. “Whatever you like, champ.”

“Uh okay, do you know Mommy is a bit… much? She is like there and the next second she is here and then she isn’t here for days. I- this is sooo annoying”, Henry rants to her. He is only three, so it is kept rather simple.

“Oh man, she must be a handful, champ. But you have to keep in mind that she really loves you and in the end this is the only thing that matters. Do you love her, too?” It hurts her to talk about a mother’s love, since her own passed away over two years ago. (Y/N) still misses her. She is sure it will never go away.

“Of course I love her.” Sleepily Henry cuddles closer to (Y/N), holding his plush toy near him. After that, he falls asleep safe and sound. The teenager waits for a bit, watching him scrunching up his nose every few minutes.

The next day at the BAU a knock is heard on the Unit Chief’s door. “Come in!”

“Hey Dad, I thought a little visit wont hurt”, the daughter enters the room. Automatically a smile appears on Hotch’s face. “Also, I thought a little help from Spencer wont hurt, too”, she adds with a laugh. “Last time I checked he was in Garcia’s lair. You might have a shot finding him there”, he tips her off.

“Thank you Dad, you are the best!” Not long after this she steps into the Technical Analyst’s office and is immediately greeted by the preppy woman being anything but preppy.

“What in heaven’s name do they think I am, do you know it (Y/N)? They want me to work faster and more efficiently and expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows while looking at the most gruesome pictures ever taken on a daily basis! Un-be-lie-va-ble!” The blonde walks back and forth, gesticulating wildly.

The teenager takes her hands in an attempt to calm her down. “Sit down and tell me from the beginning what you are talking about.” This ends in Penelope raging about some superiors for an hour. When she finally calms down, it is like she wakes up. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to load all that up on you. You don’t need that in addition to-” She suddenly cuts herself off.

“I’m fine, really. It’ll be like any other day.” The smile the girl struggles to put on looks pained. “My sweet sweet summer child, the second anniversary of your mother’s death is not like any other day. You are still allowed to grief, you know that, right?” Penelope hugs (Y/N), cradling her close to her chest.

“I know, Penny. Thank you for reminding me. But I have to go, I need Spencer’s help with my chemistry assignment. You know, gotta keep those grades up.” With that she makes a beeline for the bullpen, leaving a stunned Technical Analyst by herself.

Since Foyet Hotch worries about his daughter. He learned many things about her coping mechanisms in the last two years: She tries to do it on her own.

In times like this the similarity between him and (Y/N) frustrates him. Aaron also tends to deal with his emotions alone, in the safe space of his own four walls. With all of his qualifications he knows it’s not healthy and he slowly learns to let his feelings loose around people he trusts, typically his team.

The difference between (Y/N) and Hotch is that he knows when he reaches his breaking point and she doesn’t about hers. So in a situation like right now being a profiler comes in handy with the job as a father.

It’s the day. The second anniversary of a mother’s death.

Hotch already planned the whole day for his two kids. At first he wakes both of them up, a luxus he seldom is able to indulge. But for today he has called into work saying he won't be coming any time before ten.

The mood around the house is suffocating. Even the little boy notices the heaviness of the day and its meaning.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)? I’m gonna drop you and Jack off at school!” Aaron shouts standing at the foot of the stairs. “I’m coming!” The answer is heard faintly.

Not long after this the Hotchner Household is on their way to the youngest’s elementary school. “Behave and remember: If you don’t feel fine it’s okay. Just tell your teachers and they will call me and I will get you, do you understand?” The father looks at his son with a certain seriousness. “Understood”, the blonde boy confirms and gives him a hug.

When he is back onto the driver’s seat, (Y/N) speaks up. “I don’t feel good about letting him to school today. What if he suddenly gets overwhelmed? I don’t think his teachers are able to calm him down.” Hotch gives his daughter a glance from the side. Jack never showed any signs of what she just described.

“They know to call me. I also told him it's all right to let them call me. He is in good hands.” It’s quiet for the next few minutes. “Dad, this is not the way to school”, the teenager tries to alert her father.

“I know. You won’t go today. I called you in sick when you were in the bathroom. I got the day planned, be ready to be surprised.”

The first thing they do is having breakfast in a little niché café. They once visited it regularly with Haley, way long before Jack was born. The two of them sit down at a booth in the corner.

“What can I get you two sweeties?” A waitress asks, her notebook ready in her hands. While the father orders their usuals, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander. So many memories at once crash onto her.

“Do you remember this one waiter, who always got you a hot cup of chocolate for free?” Aaron says after noticing her sad look. The girl begins to smile through the tears forming in her eyes. “Of course. Mom always got nearly a heart attack seeing me down it like it’s juice. I-” Her voice breaks. The tears fall down and make their way over her cheeks.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here. For anything you want or need me. Because nobody expects you to be alright, especially on this day.” He takes her hand and looks her in the eyes. (Y/N) nods, leaning against her father’s shoulder. He puts an arm on her, keeping her closer.

“I know. It’s just- It still hurts. So so badly. I feel like she still is here, but that’s just not true and that hurts me more.” Silently Hotch motions the waitress to make the order to go, while rubbing his child’s arm. Because that’s what she still is, a child.

A child that went through much, especially for her age. When (Y/N) calms down a little, they make their way back to the car.

“I thought we are going to the BAU to distract you for a while. But I can call the team and tell them we are going to do a SPA day at home or something. What do you want?”

“Can we go to them? And maybe leave earlier to do face masks at home before picking Jack up?” There is no way the father can say no to her puppy dog eyes. “Of course, Honey. Anything you want.”

As soon as the doors of the elevator open to floor six of the FBI building in Quantico, Penelope Garcia embraces (Y/N) in a big bear hug. “My sweet sweet summer child. You are so strong, I admire you. We are so happy to have you here” she whispers into the teenager's ear. “Thank you, Penny. Thank you so much.”

Over the course of the next few hours (Y/N) visits everyone’s desk. At first she goes into the lair, where mountains of cookies wait for her. Then she sits at Spencer’s desk, listening to cute facts about sloths. But Emily is quick to steal her from the genius, bribing the girl with new pictures of Sergio. Derek takes the teen from there, pushing her through the office on a desk chair with wheels. Her father is able to hear her laughs in his office, which puts a small smile on his face.

After that (Y/N) goes to JJ, who has a drawn picture from Henry for her. “Will had to write ‘best babysitter ever’ for him”, the blonde explains, pointing at the picture. The girl smiles. “Woah, I think you got a little Picasso at home. Tell him I love it.”

Her last stop is Rossi’s office. The older man looks at her with a fond smile. “Do you know that I see so much of your father and mother in you?” Confused, she glances at him.

“You are as stoic as Aaron. You are determined. But you are also caring and loving, like Haley. You are a perfect combination of both of them. Just keep that in your mind.”

As mysterious as this seems, it somehow makes (Y/N) happy. Happy to know a part of her mother is always with her.

Soon the little family departes for their home. Not long after they bid their goodbyes, Penelope receives a picture of the Unit Chief and the teenager with pink glitter masks. The father is willing to do anything to make her smile, even when this means he gets a basket of various masks the next day for teasingly reasons.

[natache]

Ita Rina

First and Forgotten Yugoslav Film Star who provocated Gestapo

Ita Rina was born on 7 July 1907 in the small town of Divača (then Austro-Hungarian Empire, later Yugoslavia, now Slovenia) as Italina Lida Kravanja. She was called Ida Kravanja for short. She was named after a journalist Finzi Haydée, Jewish family friend from Trieste. The first daughter of Jožef a railroad worker and Marija Kravanja, Rina had a younger sister Danica. Shortly after the outbreak of the World War I, the family moved to Ljubljana, where Rina matriculated in 1923. She was not a good student; she repeated the third grade of elementary school. However, her dream was to be an actress.

In October 1926, Slovenski narod (Slovenian People) magazine organized a beauty pageant, and Rina entered the competition. She was crowned Miss Slovenia and was to travel to the final event for Miss Yugoslavia, which was supposed to be held on 20 December 1926 in Zagreb. However, her mother did not want to let her go to Zagreb. After a group visit from the Slovenian delegation, Marija Kravanja relented. Unfortunately, when Rina arrived in Zagreb, the jury was already choosing the most beautiful of three finalists. She was, however, noticed by Adolf Müller, the owner of Balkan Palace cinema in Zagreb. He immediately sent her photographs to German film producer Peter Ostermayer. As her mother did not want to let her go to Berlin, Rina ran away from home.

Her escape was enabled by a family friend, a painter Alojz Malota and his wife Hedvig Šarc. They invited her to come with them on a trip to Austria, and instead she went to Berlin. She has said that she felt very lonely and scared during the train ride and thought about returning home.

“That was my longest and hardest journey. I huddled myself in a corner of a coupe and looked around myself in fear. I only knew few words in German...”

Rina arrived in Berlin in 1927. Shortly after she had her first audition, following which she had classes in acting, diction, dancing.

"They would shine a spotlight on me" she later said "cameras would buzz. There were cables everywhere. Some complete strangers would stare at me, whispering amongst themselves. They told me to scream, to laugh, wave and cry. I think I looked most natural in scenes where I was crying. All I had to do was remember how far away from home I've gone and how I've deceived my mother."

"You don't know how to walk!" a director was yelling. I've dedicated all my strength on walking as gracefully as possible, and I thought to myself "how's it possible that I, who have climbed Triglav thrice, all of sudden am incapable of walking." I must admit, first few steps on film were harder than any danger definitely mountaineering.

After several small film roles in 1927 and 1928, the critics finally noticed her in the 1928 film The Last Supper. The same year, Rina met at a Yugoslav embassy party, her future husband Miodrag Đorđević, a shy engineering student from Belgrade, son of a general director of the Royal Post Office.

He asked her out to dinner in a little more upscale restaurant. What he would find out later is that his students account was not enough to pay for the meal. He went to the phone in an attempted to call a friend who could lend him money. Ita figured out what was going on, and since she was already rich, secretly passed him a few bank notes, to spare him the embarrassment. She always liked him, and they understood each other well.

 

Around that time newspapers in Yugoslavia started to sensationalize her love life, as a counter she published an open letter.

Cenjeni g. urednik!

Vsikdar sem bila ljubeznjiva napram g. dopisniku Vašega lista. Želela sem na ta način izražati simpatije, ki sem jih gojila do “Vremena”. Toda nežentlementski dopis Vašega dopisnika od 15. t. m. je zlorabil to mojo ljubeznivost in me prisilil, da Vas naprošam zaradi istine za uvrstitev naslednjih vrstic: Prišla sem domov na oddih, da se pripravim za bodoče delo, ne pa da se zaljubljam kakor goska. Zaradi tega ne potrebujem nikakih senzacij, zlasti pa ne senzacij, ki gredo preko meja dopustnega. Čudim se prostosti, ki si jo jemlje g. Ambrož, da izmišlja kar imena mojih idealov. Prava senzacija bi bila šele, ko bi g. Ambrož nekoliko srečneje uganil moje ideale. Kar pa piše g. Ambrož, je bilo doslej meni in vsem mojim znancem docela neznano. Odpotovala bom tedaj, ko me pokliče novo delo. Senzacijonalni odhod avtomobilov itd. je prosta glupost. 

Da končam. Žal mi je, da se je edini g. O. Ambrož smatral za najpametnejšega od vseh tukajšnjih novinarjev in da je segel po tako nehvaležnem poslu. Naši javnosti je treba servirati resnico o mojem delu in moji osebi, ne pa glupih izmišljotin. Prejmite g. urednik izraze itd.

Ita Rina.

Her breakthrough into European stardom came after taking a role in a controversial film Erotikon by a Czechoslovakian director Gustav Mahaty. As soon as she read the script about a seduced and then abandoned daughter of a guard of a railroad station, she understood it as her big chance, and she was right.

Erotikon premiered in Prague. Czechoslovakian censors cut out the scene of her giving birth to a child, but the movie garnered great success with film critics and audiences across Europe. At the premiere in Paris in Moulin Rouge and the film goers carried her out of the theatre on their hands.

The films success angered the puritans. Especially the french catholic theologian, abbot Betteleme who wrote: "... First, they lie next to each other, and then one to another ... It is true that the cover hides their figures, but it certainly does not hide their movements... The protagonists are shown in particularly long shots, especially Ita... A viewer can recognize her excitement, then her expression of anxiety mixed with longing, then the pain and at the end... I blush while describing the scenes". He went though streets of Paris tearing down the posters that were plastered all over. That only raised the popularity of the film.

In 1930, Rina acted in three films, most notable being the first talking Czechoslovakian film Tonka of the Gallows, which is often named her best role. Meanwhile, she married Miodrag Đorđević in 1931. Although she had announced her retirement from her film career, but she actually continued her acting until the outbreak of World War II. Her last prewar film was crime drama Zentrale Rio.

The situation in Germany was getting tense, especially for anybody who was considered undesirable which included actors who were foreign. She left Germany on the insistence of the then ambassador of Yugoslavia Ivo Andrić. In 1939, very close to the start of WW2 every time she went to work or went home, there was a man who sat in the car. In the beginning he was very quiet and she thought he was an assistant of the producer and that he might represent some new custume, a way of saying thanks to the actors. And then he spoke. At first there were talks of the superiority of the German race, but later his changes because more apparent. "I argued with him in that car" she told to the operator in the studio and retold him the whole conversation. "How could you have dared, that man is from Gestapo." said the operator. The story was retold to Ivo Andrić, and he ordered her and her husband to urgently leave Germany. The taping of the film was mostly done. That night they packed all of their belongs. In the morning she taped a few leftover scenes and absconded for Belgrade that same day.

"Only on the road I understood what's going on. Tanks everywhere, soldiers."

They went to live in Belgrade. She didn't act as the war was starting to rage and had her first child Milan in 1940 and thee years later a daughter Tijana. Her in-laws disagreed with the marriage to a controversial actress at first. And they had a permanent table for themselves and their friends at the local tavern.

After the bombing of Belgrade they moved to Vrnjačka Banja. Life during wartime was hard and she laboured and sold all of her possessions to keep family fed. She even rescued her husband from jail where he landed after he, in a tavern proclaimed that Hitler will have the same fate Napoleon did in Russia.

They moved back to Belgrade after the end of World War II in 1945. Although she was promised several roles in Yugoslav films, all projects were cancelled and she was treated unfavorably. After receipt of a letter she had written to President Tito, Rina began working as a co–production advisor in Avala Film. But she soon left Avala Film and moved to Lovćen Film.

She returned to the silver screen once, in the 1960 film War, about nuclear war fallout, directed by Veljko Bulajić. This was her last role. She got her role not though a studio, but through her husband asking nicely.

“Before the shooting of the film War began, I was approached by a very likable gentleman, that was the husband of Mrs. Ita Rine Miodrag, and in a very discreet, shy way, asked if we can talk and during that conversation, suggested to cast Ita. Honestly speaking, I have already completely forgotten about her. There was war, and they she didn't work for a very long time. She wasn't listed anywhere in cinematography as an active actress. I remembered her from her films. I suggested we meet. So we met, I don't know where in Zagreb or Belgrade, I cannot remember, but she impressed me. She made a strong impression, of a smart woman, an actress who didn't want to be in a film for no other reason, but to be filmed. She wanted to know about her role. I really liked that, so we made a deal.” 

As she suffered from asthma, Rina and her husband moved to Budva (then Yugoslavia, now Montenegro) in 1967. There, she took care of her husband, who was ill with sclerosis. Rina died on 10 May 1979 from an asthmatic attack during the great earthquake that leveled the capital of Montenegro. She was buried a few days later in Belgrade, in the presence of numerous film artists, admirers, friends and family. Her husband died next year.

Best source is in Slovene here:

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Mission of Mercy: One

“Where’s she headed?” Bucky asked watching the woman loading the back of her small SUV with a duffle bag and assorted odds and ends.

She was a friend of Sam’s, one from his days at the VA, Bucky knew, but he couldn’t remember her name. Sam had got her the gig with SHEILD. I guess he figured they all needed counseling. Or a team mom. Or whatever it was she did. Outreach, Bucky figured. Generating good PR. 

“Looks like a mission of Mercy,” Sam said with a small, slightly sad smile. Bucky looked at him for explanation and Sam sighed, instantly looking sadder and a few years older. 

“She’s a third generation Army Brat,” Sam explained. “Dad never came home from Desert Storm and Brother didn’t come back from… whatever the fuck he was doing. Mom was a VA nurse before she retired… So Y/N knows a lot of grumpy old fucks that don’t like to leave their houses. She makes rounds a few times a week still, for the people she’s known since she was just a kid. Friends of her dad’s, some cousins twice removed.”

Bucky exhaled slowly and nodded. That he hadn’t known. He’d never really paid that much attention to you. But now he looked again. You were packing down styrofoam coolers with what looked like milk, eggs, cheese, and assorted lunch meat. And you had a few labeled boxes of cans. A couple cases of beer… That made Bucky smile a little. And he could respect what you were doing. 

“Y/N!” Sam called across the motor pool, “Who’s on your list?”

“Joe, Rocky, and Cooksy, at least for today,” you answer, “Mac and Wild man are still in the nursing home for rehab.”

“Joe, huh?” Sam said walking over, Bucky trailing after him looking confused.

“You wanting to go along?” you ask, smiling, tightening the ratchet straps that held the styrofoam coolers in place.

“That old man still owes me a rematch,” Sam said grinning. 

“Rematch in what?” Bucky asked, catching a case of beer that had started to slide of it’s perch and slotting it carefully into an open space for you. 

“Dice,” you snort, “Sam swears he cheats.” You give Bucky a smile of thanks and slot a small gift bag in next to the case and Bucky has to look away from you. His face feels hot and he feels like you’re looking through him. So he looks at your hands. Work roughened. Nails bitten to the quick. Useful hands. Not just ornaments at the ends of your wrists. Efficient. 

“He Does!” Sam’s voice breaks through Bucky’s distraction and jolts him back to the world. Back out of his head. And for that, Bucky is momentarily grateful. And a scolding gasp from you immediately makes him too aware. 

“Get off my bread you fucking heathen,” you grouse, only half playing as you give Sam a shove away from a bag.

“My bad,” Sam said, quickly, holding his hands up in surrender, “You got a minute though?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “Go get your stuff. I don’t want to wake Joe up before he’s ready.”

Sam gives you a grin and trots off and Bucky sighs, mentally trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his day. He didn’t want to assume he was going. 

“Joe did intelligence work during WWII,” you tell him, “You guys can always swap some bullshit stories… If you want to come.”

Bucky looked at you. You aren’t looking at him, instead you’re leaning on the bumper of your car and looking somewhere not quite the middle distance, but at something, anything else. And he can’t decide if you’re nervous or just awkward. And he can’t decide how he feels about making you nervous. He was nervous. His palms felt clammy and the rolling in his stomach couldn’t decide if it wanted to be butterflies or hornets. 

“Joe won’t mind?” Bucky asked. 

“A friend of mine is a friend of his,” you say, and Bucky can see that the corner of your mouth is upturned in a smile. “He’s a cousin… kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“He’s a cousin of a friend of my mom’s… He used to look after me sometimes when mom had to run a night shift.”

Bucky nodded, “That-” he couldn’t decide if that was “nice,” or “Cool,” or “weird.” 

“He taught me how to draw in three point perspective, gamble, and make a decent martini,” you say, and Bucky can hear the fondness in your voice. “Most importantly I guess, he never let me be a weirdo by myself.”

Bucky let himself chuckle. And when you chanced looking up at him, the rolling in his stomach decided it was butterflies. 

You were smiling. The kind of smile that would be seductive outlines in red. But right now? With no make up on and your hair falling out of a haphazard ponytail? You looked like a kid about to cause trouble. And he wanted to see what trouble that was going to be. 

Sam retuned before Bucky could formulate something flirty to say. Something that wouldn’t sound too dirty or too corny. Something that might make you swoon a little... though. As you swore at Sam across the motorpool telling him to hurry the fuck up, Bucky doubted very much that you had ever swooned in your life. But he could absolutely see that having a grumpy old man baby sit you had had some other amusing outcomes. 

Swear words didn’t look like they fit you. Your mouth was too sweet looking and the words were too blunt and ugly. It looked like they would fit wrong and come out worse. But. The way you said them was so casual. As if you had never not said them. And that… For some reason, tickled Bucky. He likes smart girls. He liked girls with a temper. And listening to you bicker with Sam just… It definitely burst some more butterflies out of their cocoons. It was nice, Sam having to put up with a smart mouth instead of being the one to dish it out. 

__________

The drive was fine. 

Sam didn’t even complain about the music you played. A blend that gave Bucky whiplash and something of a headache behind his eyes. But. That wasn’t your fault. A lot of the music past his own time did that. 

The Audio bombast of discordant sounds and coded meanings of the ever evolving slang was… a lot. So he mostly focused on the scenery. The cars. The people. The sky. The architecture. That helped. Some things about New York would probably never really change. There were more people now. Fewer dresses and more people in pants… And fewer roving packs of kids. But. It felt the same.

It wasn’t until he was standing on the doorstep. He and Sam looming over you like bodyguards that he noticed differences. The lack of washing hung out to dry. The consistent low hum of multiple air conditioners. The lack of kid noises. The lack of… community. The way everyone was together, and apart simultaneously. 

But when the door swung open slowly, and Bucky was greeted by a little old man. One with thick glasses, a bald head, and stooped shoulders. A neck that made him look like a turtle… A sudden warmth washed over him. 

“There’s my favorite ray of Sunshine,” he said, pulling you into an unembarrassed hug. The kind men in his time reserved for their mothers and beloved children. “And my second favorite pain in the ass!” he said, rasping a laugh as he clasped Sam’s hand in his. 

“I moved up a spot,” Sam chuckled.

 “Eh, the neighbor’s dog died last week,” Joe said, giving Bucky a steady, appraising look.

“Aww, Bear died?” you say sadly, “poor old man… How’s Irene doing with it?”

Joe turned back towards you and chucked you under the chin gently with a small smile. Bucky didn’t miss the tears that had welled up, and evidently, neither had the old man. “She’s heart broke,” he said, “But, she told me to tell you he loved the blanket and it made his last couple weeks more cozy.”

Joe stepped back and ushered you into the house, letting you pass him to go and quietly pull yourself back together, Bucky figured. The butterflies in his stomach catching a sudden chill. 

“Who’s he?” Joe asked, arms folding across his scrawny chest as he straightened himself to his full height… or as close to it as he could manage.

“Winter Soldier,” Sam said grinning, clapping him on the shoulder before going to get the stuff you had for him out of your trunk.

“No shit?” Joe said, adjusting his glasses.

“No shit,” Sam answered, calling over his shoulder. 

“Well Son,” he said to Bucky, “Come on in. I gotta add a bottle of Jack to my grocery list… it looks like I lost a bet.”

And Bucky can’t help it. He laughs.

In the Hall, just inside the door, Bucky  can hear you rattling around. It sounds like dishes being done. And maybe a broom being used and Joe shakes his head. “She’ll make someone a nice wife some day, but fuck if I know what kind of man could handle her.”

Bucky wasn’t sure if that was for him to hear or just Joe Musing to himself out loud, but he smiled anyway and followed him inside. On the walls, there were pictures. Covered bridges, flower gardens, portraits… Presumably of people that the old man knew. Or had known. And the smell of dust and old paper. Decades of smoke from meals cooked and packs of cigarettes. It smelled like age. A sepia tone that mellowed and dulled all the colors around him. But somehow there was nothing harsh. Or forbidding. 

“Will you sit down?” The old man groused, “I have a broad that comes in and does all that shit.”

“Then you’re paying her too much because she ain’t been doin’ it right, old man,” you tell him over your shoulder as you rinse a plate. 

“Bah,” Joe said, flapping his hands at you. Clearly realizing that this wasn’t a fight he could win as he lowered himself into his spot at the kitchen table. “Siddown, son,” he said to Bucky, “Take a load off and let these stupid kids do the grunt work.”

“Kids,” Sam scoffed, putting boxes on the counter with an eye roll as he nudged you.

“I hear him,” you snort. “Careful old man,” you tease, “You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin and at your age, replacement parts are hard to come by.”

“Listen Heifer,” Joe said, eyes dancing behind his thick glasses, “If you wanna kick my old ass, you better pack a lunch.”

You shake your head, and pull the top off a styrofoam cooler, “I got your lunch meat and some eggs. That was it right?”

“Yup,” Joe said, “How much do I owe you?”

“A Dr. Pepper,” you answer over your shoulder, making Joe give you a stern look. 

“Young Lady-”

“You’re not giving me money, ya old coot,” you say, more fond than scolding as you kiss the top of his bald head.

“The hell I’m not-”

“I’ll tell momma and she’ll have both our asses. Me for taking the money and you for payin’ me.”

“She’s got you there Joe,” Sam said, grinning. 

“You shaddup,” Joe said grumpily, eyeing your back. And Bucky could see he was trying to gauge how likely it was that he could slip you some money without you knowing you’d been given any. Bucky grinned and Caught Sam’s eye before bumping the table with his knee to get the old man’s attention.

Once the Old man’s sharp eyes had fixed on him, Bucky glanced meaningfully towards the coat rack. Where your jacket hung so conveniently.And Joe followed his gaze, he grinned and touched his nose in acknowledgement. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ do it,” you say not turning around. 

And Joe made a silent “rats” gesture, before sticking his tongue out at your back

[inkribbon796]

Lost in a Lightning Storm Ch. 2: Far from Home

Summary: You shouldn’t talk about people, and not expect them to find out.

Chapters: 1, 2

While Henrik and Anti were talking to Tubbo and Logan, and then subsequently went off to Nate’s house to do some research, Mare went to go find Anti.

Anti was cackling with the Duke on some rooftop, who had escaped arrest after the chaos he had created. The two chaos-loving criminals were laughing and joking.

“Anti! Your boyfriend is getting too brave, you gotta[1] do something!” Mare said as he leaned over a massive air conditioning unit to get into the glitch’s face. Anti was lying on his back on the rooftop.

“Ooooooohhh~ You have a boyfriend?” Remus gave a huge smile, turning on his stomach and kicking his feet up like they were a bunch of pre-teens at a slumber party. “And you didn’t tell your best friend? For shame.”

“Shut up,” Anti kicked him in the face. Then he turned back to Mare. “I don’t got[2] a boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah, then what the hell is he?” Mare bit back.

“None ‘a yer fookin’ business,”[3] Anti spat back.

“M’kay,[4] whatever,” Mare rolled his eyes. “Point is, he’s trying to find you.”

“I’m right here, let ‘im[5],” Anti scoffed, still lying on the ground.

“No, the old you, the human one,” Mare warned.

“Why?” Anti spat.

“I don’t know, humans are dumb,” Mare spat. “He’s your problem, you deal with him.”

“Fook[6] you!” Anti spat and stormed off.

Directly after he stormed off, he realized that he hadn’t asked Mare where Henrik was. But it was too late to storm off. Mostly because he overheard Remus trying to weedle information out of Mare. Anti was too in his own head to admit to even himself that he was embarrassed.

So he went out to find Henrik. Except he wasn’t at the hospital . . . and Logan didn’t seem to know where he was. He wasn’t at the hospital either so Anti ran around for a little bit and found them in Nate’s house.

For a couple moments, Anti debated on how upset Mare would be if he barged into his territory. Then he figured that if Mare didn’t want him to trespass, he shouldn’t have told him to take care of Henrik . . . and Anti had been in Nate’s house before on multiple occasions.

So Anti tripped about three alarms to get into the house and Nate and Henrik watched him stroll right into the living room where they were.

“Don’t yeh[7] two know not ta[8] talk about someone behind their back?” Anti layered on the glitching and blood as much as he could.

“You are certainly getting better at zat[9] effect,” Henrik complimented.

“You bleed on my carpet and I will stab you with a soul splitter,” Nate threatened.

Anti pulled out his knife, completely offended that they weren’t screaming in terror.

Nate helped up a stake, the wood was etched with runes and spell writing. “Anti, I don’t want to explain to the rest of your friends why you’re in pieces.”

“Why the fook are yeh diggin’ inta my personal shite?”[10] Anti demanded.

“Because zer is much I do not know about you, und I vish to correct zat,”[11] Henrik told him, Nate was on his computer, still looking through old census records and newspaper reports.

“I’m right the fook[6] here,” Anti spat.

“I cannot recall a time ven ve have ever talked about any’zing,”[12] Henrik told Anti pointedly.

Anti glared at him, his nose scrunched up like the demon was about to pull his lips back in a snarl. “Why, though? No point in lookin’[13] fer[14] a dead man.”

Henrik stood up, really studying Anti’s expression, “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”

Anti sputtered for a moment, “I don’t care.”

“I am serious Anti, if all zis[15] investigation makes you uncomfortable or vas[16] a traumatic experience, I vill[17] stop.”

A myriad of uncomfortable feelings, that Anti refused to unpack or acknowledge, prickled under his skin and boiled his blood. He absolutely refused to be afraid of some past specter he could barely remember. Anti was better than some human who’s only contribution to the world had been dying so that Anti could be brought into the world.

So instead Anti just scoffed, some derisive, forced laugh, “Whate’er yeh two arses wanna dig up some dead bitch that did me the favor ‘a dyin’, go ahead. Here, I’ll e’en help.”[18]

Henrik watched for any sign that Anti was joking or would destroy Nate’s computer. “If you are certain.”

“Oh yeah,” Anti dismissed. “What did yeh shitebags find?”[19]

“Well,” Nate stalled as he watched Anti walk over, he stayed braced with his stake. “Don’t break my stuff.”

“I won’t,” Anti smiled. “Come on, we got some loser ta[8] find.”

“That “loser” is also a past version of you,” Nate pointedly reminded.

“Watch it, meatbag,” Anti warned. “If he wanted ta[8] stay alive, he shouldn’ta[20] died.”

“Eloquent,” Henrik commented.

“Shut,” Anti hissed back.

“Do you remember your country of origin?” Nate asked. “I’ve got several different deaths from lightning storms and factory accidents from the past 150—”

“I ne’er[21] worked in a factory,” Anti huffed, before mentally stalling because he couldn’t remember how he knew that, just that he did.

“Really?” Nate commented without even blinking. “That helps narrow it down. Means you only could have died from lightning if you’re as old as Mare says you are.”

“Mare needs ta[8] learn ta[8] keep his trap shut,” Anti scoffed.

“You were right there when he told me that, and you didn’t say anything,” Nate reminded.

Anti looked away from him, “I don’t remember this, it didn’t happen.”

“Anyways, do you remember where you came from?” Nate turned back to his computer. “I know the Septics first met you in Ireland, but are you from there too?”

“Been ta a lot ‘a places,”[22] Anti shrugged. “How am I supposed ta[8] know?”

“Well it vould[23] make it easier,” Henrik reminded.

Anti rolled his eyes, “I woke up in Australia. I hitched a ride on several hosts until I got ta[8] Ireland. I don’t know if I died there, my first ten years were a blur.”

“You are Australian?” Henrik was staring at Anti.

“No.” Hunching his shoulders up defensively, Anti glared at the doctor, “Maybe? I can’t remember. What’s it ta[8] yah[7]?”

“No, it’s not a bad thing,” Henrik rushed to say. “I just . . . it is a good thing.”

Nate and Anti just stared at him, neither of them sure which direction to take that comment, but Henrik wasn’t looking Anti in the eyes anymore. He was glancing at Anti though, a lot.

But with a country narrowed down, Nate was able to eliminate several different possible candidates. Until there were five people left, four men and one woman. Mostly because it wasn’t unheard of for gender changes to occur when a human became a demon.

“Okay,” Nate said. “We have: Caleb Carson, Hannah Laverty, Brendan O’Heyne, Angus Collins, and Joe Morrin. Does anyone sound familiar, I don’t see any pictures so . . .”

Anti’s brain felt clouded, like there was something wrong but he couldn’t place it. He felt the urge to stab something and run. Like he was in danger.

“Anti? Are you alright?” Henrik asked, there was a look on Anti’s face that the German doctor hadn’t seen on him before.

Anti’s attention drifted towards one of the names in particular. He had no memories left of that person.

Much of that person was gone now, eroded away by time, but snippets remained. Being arrested for something . . . feeling disgusting inside afterwards . . .

. . . Feeling sick as the boat wouldn’t stop shaking the world around him . . .

. . . The heat of the sun burning his skin, almost hot as the anger that burned inside of him . . .

. . . And then a deafening CRACK as he felt like his body was exploding with pain. And how they’d just . . .

“They left me there,” Anti remembered, his form glitching erratically. “They left my fookin’[24] corpse ta[8] rot!”

“Anti‽” Henrik called out but the two humans watched Anti violently shatter apart in a discorporation.

Nate surged up immediately and took out an amulet necklace. One he had once’s a while ago to safely carry Mare around. But he used his magic to scoop up as much of Anti’s aura as possible to keep him from fracturing.

“Vat[25] happened?” Henrik demanded.

“He must have remembered something,” Nate tried to calm Henrik down as he was casting spells to see how violent the discorporation was, “I don’t think it was a good thing.”

Henrik snatched the necklace away, looking at it. “Vill[17] he be alright?”

“He still seems to be in one piece, but it might take a while for him to reform,” Nate warned.

“I zink ve should stop,”[26] Henrik looked over at Nate’s laptop. “If I had known his reaction vould have been zis violent I vould have stopped ven he confronted us.”[27]

“Yeah,” Nate agreed and watched Henrik put the necklace on. “Be careful with him, an injured demon’s a more dangerous one.”

“I vill[17],” Henrik promised, and gathered up his stuff with a stiff thank you for Nate’s help and the doctor went over to his apartment with the necklace. Anti took a couple of days to reform, but he didn’t talk to Henrik. The demon would escape the necklace and then slip back in whenever Henrik was distracted or busy.

After almost a week since the incident at Nate’s house, Henrik decided that, if Anti wasn’t going to talk to him, Henrik would talk to Anti. He started out small, complaining about the coffee machine at the hospital, about how muggy the weather was.

Then, one night, while Henrik was sitting on his couch, watching some TV show, or at least had it on in the background while he was staring down at the necklace in his hands, the doctor decided to be a bit more blunt. He watched the gem, saw almost like glitchy lightning crackling underneath the surface. “I must admit, part of ze[28] reason I went digging vas[16] to get a reaction out of you.”

There was a pause to the energy in the necklace. But after a bit the glitched lightning continued as if nothing had happened.

“If you do not vant to talk about zis matter, I vill not force you,”[29] Henrik told him. “But I had hoped to get a violent reaction out of you, not to actually harm you. For zat[9] I am sorry.”

Anti’s aura shot out of the necklace was just staring at Henrik. “Why was that what yeh were goin’ fer?”[30]

“You have tried to kill me und[31] my friends many times, und[31] I vanted[32] to get you to attack me,” Henrik admitted.

“Why?” Anti scoffed, plopping down on Henrik’s couch. “If I wanted yeh[7] dead, I would’a[33] done it already.”

He took glared at him. “Zat[9] is exactly the problem, you have zis[15] odd stalking infatuation but you have tried to kill me in the past. Not to mention you utterly ruined Average’s marriage und[31] his ability to visit his children.”

“The fooker was gettin’ cucked an’ e’eryone knew it,”[34] Anti dismissed.

“She vas doin’ no’zing of ze sort,”[35] Henrik defended heatedly.

Anti looked away angrily.

The two sat in angry silence for a little while, before Henrik sighed, taking off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose before carefully putting them back on. “Anti, vat do you vant out of zese interactions ve have?”[36]

The glitch demon decided he would rather talk about literally anything else, but his only other option was talking about his former human life and he wasn’t sure which made him look worse. “I like it when yeh[7] get angry at me.”

“Is it simply ze[28] anger or ze[28] attention?” Henrik asked, genuinely trying to understand.

Anti still wasn’t looking at him, deciding that he’d rather take the human talk. “My name used ta[8] be somethin’[37] else.”

“Vich[38] do you prefer?” Henrik asked.

“Anti,” Anti told him hesitantly.

“Zen[39] you are Anti,” Henrik agreed. “As you said, zat[9] man is dead, und[31] you are here.”

Something in Anti’s chest tightened, he didn’t like it. He didn’t like even the reminder that he was human. But he started leaning over towards Henrik. It was just a little bit of a lean, not enough to even get near Henrik. So the doctor closed the distance for him, lightly resting his shoulder against Anti’s.

“I zink zat you like the attention, vich I am more zen happy to give to you,”[40] Henrik smiled at him as Anti still refused to hold eye contact with him. “Und ven you know vat you vant, you can tell me in your own time.”[41]

For the rest of the night the two of them sat in almost near silence. Anti wasn’t ready to admit anything, but still tantalizingly close all the same. Anti getting closer and close to Henrik until the doctor was pressed up against the side of the couch and Anti was leaning against him. Anti sat next to Henrik as the doctor just ran his fingers through his hair. Anymore and Anti would have started hissing and pulling away. But as he leaned into the touch the glitch decided that he liked this attention.

Henrik occasionally looked over at Anti, smiling at him.

And if, as he scratched his fingers across his scalp, heard him give out very quiet purring sounds, the doctor decided not to tease the glitch demon about them . . . at least not yet.

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

Post A/N: Anti in his AU used to be a man by the name of Angus (Jack’s “survivalist” character he made super early in his channel and in this AU Angus was arrested and sent to Australia where he subsequently died from a freak lightning storm, and then cue villain arc.

Side note: Henrik likes Anti’s Australian accent, he likes it a lot! No I will not back down from this extremely unpopular headcanon.

Accessibility Translations:

1. have to

2. have

3. None of your fucking business

4. Okay

5. him

6. Fuck

7. you

8. to

9. that

10. Why the fuck are you digging into my personal shit?

11. Because there is much I don’t know about you, and I wish to correct that

12. I can’t recall a time when we have ever talked about anything

13. looking

14. for

15. this

16. was

17. will

18. Whatever you two assholes want to dig up some dead bitch that did me the favor of dying, go ahead. Here, I’ll even help.

19. What did you shitbags find?

20. shouldn’t have

21. never

22. I’ve been to a lot of places

23. would

24. fucking

25. What

26. I think we should stop

27. If I had known his reaction would have been this violent I would have stopped when he confronted us.

28. the

29. If you do not want to talk about this matter, I will not force you

30. Why was that what you were going for?

31. and

32. wanted

33. would have

34. The fucker was getting cucked and everyone knew it

35. She was doing nothing of the sort

36. Anti, what do you want out of these interactions we have?

37: something

38. which

39. then

40. I think that you like the attention, which I am more then happy to give to you

41. And when you know what you want, you can tell me in your own time.

[anchorandrope]

NO CONTROL & MEDICINE

masterpost

!!! | this is just my interpretation, each one can interpret it as they want (as long as its substantiated) so if you interpret it differently that’s also fine. i’m not going to include the full songs.

NO CONTROL

written by: louis (there are more composers but they aren’t relevant for the analysis)

it’s such a direct song that it almost needs no explanation, just by reading the lyrics it’s more than clear that it talks exclusively about about sex.

“stained coffee cup just that fingerprint of lipstick’s not enough sleep where you lay, still a trace of innocence on the pillow case”

“waking up beside you i’m a loaded gun i can’t contain this anymore i’m all yours, i’ve got no control, no control powerless and i don’t care it’s obvious i just can’t get enough of you the pedal’s down, my eyes are closed no control”

“taste on my tongue i don’t want to wash away the night before in the heat where you lay i could stay right here and burn in it all day”

“lost my senses i’m defenseless her perfume’s holding me ransom sweet and sour i devour lying here i count the hours”

basically louis in this song tells us that when he gets up and sees harry by his side it makes him want to fuck, simple.

really if you don’t understand the lyrics of this song easily you are either very innocent or you have less than 13 because the song is more obvious than rock me.

in these cases i leave you a little help:

“pedals down” is the same as saying “hit the pedal”

MEDICINE (unrealased)

written by: harry (supposedly) x

like no control, the lyrics are very obvious and require almost no explanation but unlike no control, medicine says directly that the song is dedicated to a man.

“here to take my medicine, take my medicine treat you like a gentleman give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline think i’m gonna stick with you”

“here to take my medicine, take my medicine rest it on your fingertips up to your mouth, feeling it out feeling it out”

“i had a few, got drunk on you and now i’m wasted and when i sleep, i’m gonna dream of how you tasted”

“if you go out tonight, i’m going out ‘cause i know you’re persuasive you got the salt and i, got me an appetite now i can taste it”

“we’re getting dizzy oh, we're getting dizzy, oh you get me dizzy, oh you get me dizzy, oh”

“tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes tringle running through my bones the boys and the girls are in a mess around with him and i’m okay with it”

“i’m coming down, i figured out, i kinda like it and when i sleep, i’m gonna dream of how you ride it”

i want to clarify that many people say that the lyrics are “i mess around with them” but this isnt true. first you can hear “him” perfectly:

and second because the band ‘radio fluke’ covered the song, therefore it contains the original lyrics. to upload a cover of a song to spotify and apple music, the artist must be asked for permission and the official lyrics must be requested.

now, moving on to the lyrics:

obviously it talks about sex (oral and anal) with a man, the “treat you like a gentleman” it’s not decorative.

what is the relation between both songs?

first: no control talks about how well harry fucks and medicine about how well louis fucks.

second: many people believe that medicine was written by louis since they are very similar, not control is like medicine’s older sister. according to this theory, this is the reason why harry didn’t realase it, since if he wanted to realase it he would have to give credits and that would clearly generate a problem for them.

in my opinion this isn’t the reason, even though it doesn’t seem like a crazy theory, it seems to me that the reason is other.

the first thing that makes me doesn’t agree with the theory is that if you compose a song for someone else and you don’t want to give your name you can put yourself a nickname, therefore if harry really wanted to release the song he would tell louis to get a nickname. (the nicknames thing is more complex but the point is that isn’t necessary to give your full name).

but for me the real reason why he doesn’t release the song isn’t because he doesn’t want to, is because they don’t let him.

releasing medicine would imply that the gp would begin to think that harry really likes men and isn’t just an image that he has to sell more, something that certain people clearly dont want.

although it’s not a confirmation of his true sexuality, it’s a confirmation that harry is lgbt, something that doesn’t seem like a big change for his image but it is.

releasing medicine would allow people to ask harry more about the subject or how he was inspired and well let’s say that harry isn’t a genius when it comes to lying/hiding.

so, is he going to release medicine? when?

we don’t know, it’s impossible to know that kind of stuff. i personally don’t see it as likely or at least not in the near future unless his image drastically changes out of nowhere.

like i said, this is just my opinion, any other interpretation is valid🖤

NO CONTROL & MEDICINE

NO CONTROL & MEDICINE

masterpost

!!! | esta es solo mi interpretación, cada uno la puede interpretar como quiere (siempre y cuando sea con fundamentos) así que si la interpretan distinto también esta bien. no voy a incluir las canciones completas.

NO CONTROL

escrita por: louis (hay mas compositores pero no son relevantes para el análisis)

es una canción tan directa que casi no necesita explicación, con solo leer la letra queda mas que claro que habla sobre y exclusivamente de sexo.

original

“stained coffee cup just that fingerprint of lipstick’s not enough sleep where you lay, still a trace of innocence on the pillow case”

“waking up beside you i’m a loaded gun i can’t contain this anymore i’m all yours, i’ve got no control, no control powerless and i don’t care it’s obvious i just can’t get enough of you the pedal’s down, my eyes are closed no control”

“taste on my tongue i don’t want to wash away the night before in the heat where you lay i could stay right here and burn in it all day”

“lost my senses i’m defenseless her perfume’s holding me ransom sweet and sour i devour lying here i count the hours”

traducción

“taza de café manchada tan solo esa huella digital de lápiz labial no es suficiente no duermo lo suficiente donde te acuestas todavía hay un rastro de inocencia en la almohada”

“despertándome a tu lado soy un arma cargada no puedo contener más esto soy todo tuyo, no tengo control, sin control impotente y no me importa, es obvio tan sólo no puedo tener suficiente de ti mi pie en el pedal, tengo los ojos cerrados sin control”

“el sabor en mi lengua no quiero lavar la noche anterior en el calor donde te recuestas podría quedarme justo ahí y quemarme en el todo el día”

“perdí mis sentidos estoy indefenso su perfume me está forzando a hacer algo malo dulce y amargo lo devoro cuento las horas acostado aquí”

básicamente louis en esta canción nos cuenta que cuando se levanta y ve a harry a su lado le dan ganas de coger, sin vueltas.

realmente si no entendes los lyrics de esta canción con facilidad sos o muy inocente o tenes menos de 13 porque la canción es mas obvia que rock me.

en estos casos te dejo una ayudita:

“pedal’s down” es lo mismo que decir “hit the pedal”

MEDICINE (unrealased)

escrita por: harry (supuestamente) x

al igual que no control, la letra es muy obvia y no requiere casi explicación pero a diferencia de no control, medicine dice directamente que la canción va dedicada a un hombre.

original

“here to take my medicine, take my medicine treat you like a gentleman give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline think i’m gonna stick with you”

“here to take my medicine, take my medicine rest it on your fingertips up to your mouth, feeling it out feeling it out”

“i had a few, got drunk on you and now i’m wasted and when i sleep, i’m gonna dream of how you tasted”

“if you go out tonight, i’m going out ‘cause i know you’re persuasive you got the salt and i, got me an appetite now i can taste it”

“we’re getting dizzy oh, we're getting dizzy, oh you get me dizzy, oh you get me dizzy, oh”

“tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes tringle running through my bones the boys and the girls are in a mess around with him and i’m okay with it”

“i’m coming down, i figured out, i kinda like it and when i sleep, i’m gonna dream of how you ride it”

traducción

“aquí para tomar mi medicina, tomar mi medicina tratarte como a un caballero dame esa adrenalina, esa adrenalina piensa que voy a quedarme contigo”

“aquí para tomar mi medicina, tomar mi medicina déjalo en la punta de tus dedos, hacia tu boca, siéntelo siéntelo”

“tuve unos cuantos, me emborraché de ti y ahora estoy gastado, y cuando duerma soñaré sobre a qué sabías”

“si sales fuera esta noche, saldré también porque sé que eres persuasivo, tienes la sal y yo el apetito, ahora puedo saborearlo”

“nos mareamos, oh, nos mareamos la la la la nos mareamos, oh, nos meareamos, oh”

“hormigueos recorriendo mi sangre, de mis dedos a mis pies, hormigueos recorriendo mis huesos, los chicos y las chicas están en, yo me meto con el y estoy bien con ello”

“me vengo abajo, me di cuenta de que me gusta y cuando duerma soñaré sobre como lo montas”

quiero aclarar que varias personas dicen que los lyrics son “i mess around with them” pero esto es mentira. primero se escucha el “him” perfectamente:

[vean el video mas arriba en la versión en ingles]

y segundo porque la banda ‘radio fluke’ hizo un cover de la canción por ende contiene los lyrics originales. para hacer subir un cover de una canción a spotify y apple music se le debe pedir permiso al artista y se le tiene que pedir los lyrics oficiales.

ahora, pasando a los lyrics:

obviamente habla de sexo (oral y anal) con un hombre, el “treat you like a gentleman” no esta de adorno. no solo

cual es la relación entre ambas canciones??

primero: no control habla de lo bien que lo hace harry y medicine es de lo bien que lo hace louis.

segundo: mucha gente cree que medicine fue escrita por louis ya que son muy parecidas, no control es como la hermana mayor de medicine. segun esta teoría, esta es la razon por la que harry no la sacó, ya que si la quisiera sacar debería dar creditos y eso claramente les generaría un problema.

en mi opinion esta no es la razon, por mas de que no me parece una teoría descabellada me parece que la razón es otra.

lo primero que hace que la teoría no me termine de cerrar del todo es que si compones una canción para otra persona y no queres dar tu nombre podes ponerte como un nickname, por ende si harry realmente quisiera sacar la canción le diria a louis que se ponga un nickname y listo. (lo de los nicknames es mas complejo pero se entiende el punto, no es necesario dar tu nombre).

pero para mi la verdadera razon por la que no saca la canción no es porque no quiere, sino porque no lo dejan.

sacar medicine implicaría que el gp empieze a pensar que a harry realmente le gustan los hombres y no es solo una imagen que tiene para vender mas, cosa que claramente cierta gente no quiere.

por mas de que no es una confirmación de su verdadera sexualidad, es una confirmación de que harry es lgbt, algo que no parece un cambio grande para su imagen pero lo es.

sacar medicine habilitaria a que la gente pueda preguntarle a harry mas sobre el tema o como se inspiró y bueno digamos que harry no es ningun genio a la hora de mentir/ocultar.

entonces, ¿va a sacar medicine? ¿cuando?

no sabemos, es imposible saber ese tipo de cosas. yo en lo personal no lo veo probable o por lo menos no en un futuro cercano al menos que de la nada cambie su imagen drásticamente.

como dije, esta es solo mi opinión, cualquier otra interpretación es valida🖤

[kanohivolitakk]

Have you done Krekka for the ask game? I know you're a huge Nidhiki fan, curious if you have any thoughts on his partner?

I haven't gotten Krekka yet actually. So far I only done Toa Ignika and Axonn for the Bionicle ask game (which Im still accepting). That being said great choice. Krekka isn't necessarily a big favorite of mine (partially because I'm not that fond of the "dumb brute" archetype barring a few exceptions), but I have to admit I do have a soft spot for the big guy. Krekka is a relatively simple character when it comes to characterization/backstory/role in the story (especially when compared to Nidhiki), but that doesn't mean I don't have any "deeper" thoughts regarding him or that there isnt stuff worth discussing.

Anyways some thoughts/headcanons/general musings:

This is a weird thing to start with but... Krekka is kinda adorable for me. I think its kinda this ...overgrown puppy (bulldog??) vibe due to his loyalty and dumbness. I admit BOADH is a big reason for me feeling this way since it gave him a few moments that made me go "AWWW he's so cute". Just..love his loyalty so much.

His undying loyalty makes him stand out for me across the other dark hunters. While many dark hunters we ha e are opportunistic and schemy, Krekka is just...very loyal. Maybe too much so. But I love that he is loyal. Feels refreshing tbh.

And now I cant help but feel that TSO is just "guys stupid but at least he wont double cross me and is easy to keep in check" when it comes to him.

Not to go woobifying villains but I genuinely dont think the guys that bad. Hes just really stupid, overly loyal and doing his job. Its kinda like w Lariska being a decent person despite being a knife happy murder girl although to a much lesser extent since guys a literalminded fool and also just smashy boy.

I do like his backstory of being a former guard who lost his job and started wreck havoc until one day a dark hunter found and hired him. It isnt anything too complex but it works well for his character and explains why he is so loyal to Dark Hunters. It also helps bringing a bit more light to his homeland and I love when we get more info of places through character backstories, makes the world feel more real that way.

Also can Gorast please stop hurting charaxters I like. This is the reason shes my least favorite character in the 2001-2008 storyline that isnt just a glorified extra or a plot device.

When it comes to Krekka, one scene I always think of when I think of him is in BOADH where he temporarily forgot to fly and Nidhiki was just "WAIT A MOMENT LARISKA TOLD ME YOU CAN FLY????" and Krekka just goes "whoops I forgot". That was adorable honestly. You dumb idiot, forgot you could fly.

Also, I know he's kinda "the idiot character", and while I am NOT saying he isn't, I do think its worth pointing out that he's basically literal minded. In BOADH (again) when Nidhiki tried to do that training scenario Krekka basically was like "wait I’m here, there’s nothing there why should I move there". This is

Another thing I really like about Krekka is that how, despite being an absolute idiot and tool, he still is willing to sometimes not take Nidhikis bullshit, see preventing him from getting the Zamor launchers (geez BOADH did a lot for this guys characterization lmao)

I sometimes call him truck boy because his name is one letter off my languages word for truck.

Also unless canon/word of Greg says otherwise I don't think every member of his species is as stupid as him. Like possibly on similar level but still.

It is made pretty clear that Nidhiki couldn't stand Krekka at all, but I do genuinely wonder how Krekka feels about Nidhiki. Based on the little we have I'd say he liked him to some extent or at the very least, didn't hate him to the same degree. I also have to wonder how aware he was about Nidhikis haterd towards him.

I also love the idea that when Nidhiki was mutated, Krekka just...wasnt afraid of him at slightest, no fear in this dumb boy. (I also like the idea he didnt recognize him at first and Nidhiki just, had to explain to his thick skull who he was. It took a while but eventually he got it.)

On a related note, I find it interesting how the LOMN website describes him working with Nidhiki because guy knows where to get the good jobs or something rather than being his goverment (read TSO) assigned partner The way the twos relationship were described makes it feel that by this point the staff hadnt figured out what they wanted to do with Dark Hunters , or if it even was an organization or just these two tools.

Its really interesting for me how Krekkas characterization not only varies between the books/comics (where hes more intimidating and him being a simpleton isnt as pronounced) and the movie (where hes more of a dumbass) but also how his characterization evolved. Like, his loyalty wasn't that pronounced trait but now I feel its just as important part of him as him being a dumbass (which is to say, very interesting)

I remember how the aftoermentoined Metru Nui movie website described that Krekka hated toa to the point wouldve hunted them for free if Nidhiki didnt make sure the two would get paid. I feel this is somewhat early installment weirdness as it isnt mentioned anywhere else but at the same time Krekka being willing to fight without payment sounds 1000% in character if you ask me

Something I have been confused over: when exactly was Krekka recruited to the dark hunters??? The timeline is very vague about this and I wish we knew.

It's been AGES since I watched my home countrys dub of LOMN but what I recall I really liked Krekka's voice in that dub. He sounded more badass and I loved it, the VA had a pretty unique sound. Sadly dont think there is any clips of the LOMN dub, which is a shame. UPDATE: I rewatched the dub and I love the voice itself but felt the voice direction made him sound kinda inconsistent

This is more a "Nidhiki and Krekka related thought" rather than just Krekka related but one thing I really like about Krekka and Nidhiki is that how they are like a more serious and competent take of "those two evil henchmen with contrasting personalities" trope. Often these types of villains are rather goofy, but these two could be rather dangerous as well and I really like that. I also like their dynamic of just doing Nidhiki being done with Krekkas bullshit. One of the main reasons I wish LOMN was a miniseries rather than a movie is because I really wanted more screentime with the two.

On a related note can I JUST SAY I LOVE the way the two compliment/pararell each other. From design (Krekka being bulky mostly blue colored, Nidhiki being slender and monstrous, mostly green colored) to personality (Krekka being foolish and simpleminded but loyal Nidhiki being cunning and ambitious but treacherous) to powersets (Krekka being strong physical attacker, Nidhiki being weaker(??) but faster and more special attacker).Heck, even their backstories have similarities as they both lost their orginal purpose in one way or another and didnt have anywhere to go but Dark Hunters (the main difference being that Nidhiki inflicted his fate upon himself by betraying the toa while Krekka didnt really do anything iirc)

Now for something crossovery, Krekkas and Nidhikis dynamic reminds me a lot of Kronk and Yzma from Emperors New Groove. Yes I have drawn a parody of the "pull the lever kronk" meme, yes I intend to make more screencap redraws. They also remind me a lot of Mummymon and Archenemon from Digimon 02, partially due to the dynamic (smug spider that tries to be cunning and intimidating but gets outclassed by most other villains in that + loyal blue dumb boy) partially due to their ultimate fate being rather similar.

I don't know how familiar you are with the franchise, but Krekka reminds me a fair bit of Gamel, one of the four villain generals in Kamen Rider OOOs, mainly because "the dumb brute major villain that's kinda cuteish and loyal a f while everyone else is an asshole".

I remember reading a p good oneshot fic that was just him accidentally killing a civilian when all he wanted was a hug and...honestly that is p much what I imagine him being like. Guy may be strong, reckless and a fool but like I said I dont think hes all that bad and just a puppy. An overgrown, moronic puppy but a puppy nontheless

For AUs, I remember I have thought once of "What if Krekka survived but Nidhiki died" and just ...guy wouldve been very lost and confused and unsure what to do tbh. He would most likely returned to Dark Hunters but Mata Nui knows how say TSO wouldve felt about that. Its not too complex au yet but I am thinking of developing it further one day.

Thank you for asking.

Sorry this took longer than expected. I had too many thoughts and half of them were deleted so. I hope its worth the wait tho. I do have a lot of Krekka thoughts and tbh wasnt sure if I was even able to get them all here.

(I am still doing the ask game so if anyone wants to send me a bonkle I will try to give thoughts, meta and headcanons on them)

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 3)

A/N: Thank you so much for the support so far! This is the first fic I’ve posted anywhere in a long time. I’m totally down to do any requests! There are some season 6 spoilers in this part so SPOILER Alert!! xoxo R

tw: none! just more fluffiness

word count: 2444

(part 1) (part 2) 

masterlist

The third envelope, which was labeled #2, was much thicker than the first two. Spencer held it in his hands for a while, just tracing over where you wrote #2. He always made fun of you for writing it like a kindergarten teacher. 

“Adults make a two with the loop at the bottom,” He would joke any time you had to write it. 

“Good thing I’m not an adult,” You’d reply. 

He smiled at the memory. That’s one of the reasons he fell in love with you. You were so incredibly intelligent but also so clueless at the same time. You were definitely book smart. But common knowledge and sense? Not much of that in your pretty head. He liked that though; it meant you didn’t take yourself too seriously. You were down to Earth and kept him there with you, a trait he had to learn as he grew older. He didn’t even realize you taught him so much; he was always too busy trying to teach you. 

Ripping open #2 he started to read, a warm fuzzy feeling filling his chest: 

“Item 2 is a ticket to the Korean Film festival we went to together. So take it out and admire how bent and worn it is. I was so nervous that day I folded it into tiny pieces in my pocket just so my hands had something to do.”

He took it out of the plastic bag you put it in. It really was bent and worn, so much so you could barely read the name and date, July 7. 

“That was our first official date, though we had a lot of time to bond between November 17 and that day. Emily died. Well, not really, but we thought she did. We’d take turns crying on the other’s shoulder. Some days I’d show up at yours and you’d immediately know that I just needed you to be strong for me. I’d often return the favor. We were still just friends then, but our pain bonded us in ways no one else really understood. We get each other, Spence, or at one point in our lives we did. I’m not so sure I understand you anymore, at least not like I used to.  Sometimes I’d come over and we wouldn’t cry. You’d teach me chess and card games. But usually we would cry, and that was okay. 

That was the start of our platonic sleepovers. Do you remember our first one? The night I cried myself to sleep on your couch and instead of kicking me out you put a blanket over me. You thought I was out cold, but I felt you tuck it around me, your hands lingering for a second too long. For the next few weeks we did that when we didn’t have cases. We’d talk about Em and life and everything and cry, and one of us would crash on the other’s couch. Then, if Hotch didn’t send the bat signal for us, we’d get coffee and pancakes the following morning at IHOP. It became a sweet tradition, born out of one of the darkest times in my life. You always took me at my most vulnerable, loved me, and kept me safe. I don’t think I ever really thanked you for that. So, thank you. 

Everyone else didn’t think they were platonic. I mean if I were them I wouldn’t have thought we were ‘just friends’ either. The fact that we started carpooling together after our sleepovers probably didn’t help our case. I remember one time I brought you to work with me after an IHOP blueberry pancake breakfast. Rossi ran into us in the elevator and commented that you had on the same exact suit as the day before and that we had been coming to work together a lot lately. We both blushed profusely; we knew what his side eye meant.  It’s funny how everyone else knew we loved each other except us. Some profilers we are. 

Okay so back to the ticket. Emily’s loss made me look at life differently. Before she died, I confided in her how I felt. She’s the closest thing to a best friend I ever had. Being her usual supportive self, she told me to go for it. That you felt the same about me. That we’d be perfect for each other. That you adored me. I desperately wanted her to be right, so I selfishly believed her. 

When she left, I realized how quickly we can lose each other. And her support of us told me what I needed to do. In some weird way it felt like I was doing her justice by pursuing you. I decided I wasn’t going to wait and risk losing you too. So I bought tickets to the Korean film festival in Georgetown you talked about for weeks, even though I know zero Korean. I walked up to you and flashed two tickets. The look on your face is one I’ll never forget. Your eyes lit up and you smiled bigger than I had seen in months. You (thankfully) agreed to go with me. 

“I didn’t know you knew Korean,” You said as I drove us there. (I sneakily put on Stacy’s Mom then too, but I don’t think you realized)”

He chuckled. He most definitely did notice that, but what you didn’t notice was how he looked at you as you mumbled the lyrics to yourself. It was dusk and the street lights illuminated your face just so. It occurred to him then that he’d never seen anyone more beautiful than you in that moment, and probably never would again. 

Spencer put the ticket and letter down on the table and got up to pace again. He knows exactly how this story ends; he wrote it with you. And in this story he’s the villain. 

His stomach twisted up in knots. He rushed back to the table to grab the letter, but his eyes were too bleary with tears to read any of the words. Truthfully, he didn’t want to read them. He wasn’t ready to relive it yet. He wasn’t ready to feel it, because up until now he still got to see you and talk to you. He was able to protect you, just like he had all those nights when you cried in his arms. 

He blinked forcefully a few times, forcing his vision to clear enough to keep going.  

“I told you I didn’t know Korean. All I know is enough Spanish to get myself through cases. You smiled at that. 

“Then why did you want to come?” You asked me. 

“Because you wanted to come.” My answer was honest. I love so many things I never thought I would because of you, Spence. You didn’t answer me; the smile on your face was answer enough. Naturally, I got even more nervous. 

“So since there are no subtitles will you translate for me as it happens?” I asked; you nodded. 

We were strolling around the park the festival was at. It was warm out but you still had on pants and a dress shirt. I don’t know how you did that. I had on a dress and was still sweating. We got there early and were waiting for the first movie to start. 

“You know, (Y/N), 1.2 million Americans speak Korean. Korean culture is becoming a vibrant subculture in America. The success of things like anime, Korean Dramas and Korean pop music are just going to add to that number.”

That’s when I looked at you. Your hair had gotten a little longer, but it was cute. Looking back, every hair you’ve ever had was cute. I miss running my hands through it to mess it up. Your eyes were trained on the people milling around us, and mine were on you. I love when you spew out stats. Contrary to popular belief, smart IS sexy. But anyways, your eyes looked so brown and reflected the lights so beautifully. I’ll miss staring into them and getting lost. I once told you I never liked the color brown until I saw your eyes. That’s still true. 

“But like 50 million speak Spanish. So I think my tenth grade skills are more applicable,” I joked. 

“It’s actually 41 million and I agree. Spanish is a very important language to know. But only a tenth grade level? Say something in Spanish.”

“Tú y yo va a ver una película,” I said in the worst Spanish accent ever. You laughed and said some beautiful Korean like it was nothing. I grabbed your hand. You flinched and looked at me confused. I gave it a reassuring squeeze and ran my thumb across the parts of your hand I could reach. That’s when you realized this was a “date” date and not a friend date. I could almost immediately see the red creep up your cheeks. 

We found a place to sit and the movie started. It was called The Housemaid. And true to your word you translated the whole thing for me, much to the dismay of everyone around us. I found myself nestled into your side with your arm around me. You were whispering everything in my ear. Your breath tickled my neck and sent a chill down my spine. Truthfully, I missed half of what you said because I was too focused on not losing my shit. Here you were, the guy I was in love with, arm around me whispering sweet foreign words in my ear. Anyone would melt instantly. 

We got through two and a half movies that night. I don’t remember the other two—“

“Sisters on the Road and A Frozen Flower!” Spencer spoke out loud then, as if you could hear him. When he realized you definitely couldn’t hear him because you were in Seattle, and definitely not in his apartment, he groaned and kept reading. 

“We had already watched like four hours of movies and I was getting hungry. So, we stopped and got ice cream. I scolded you for getting a large when we both know you can’t have dairy, to which you just shrugged and said, “Dairy allergies are the most common in the world. 65% of the population has issues with lactose. You can’t expect 4,485,000,000 people to not eat ice cream, especially when it’s delicious.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Well don’t come crying to me when your tummy hurts later.”

“Oh I most definitely will be coming and crying to you.”

We walked like that for a while, hand in hand, until the chill of the night got to us. We made our way back to my car and you opened the door for me like a gentleman. I wanted to invite you back to my place, but I thought that might give the wrong impression for a first date. So instead I drove you home and you didn’t invite me in. I was a little hurt, honestly. I have been in your apartment more times than I can count, so what was one more? It’s okay though. You made up for it. Remember? 

We were sitting on the side of the street and you didn’t get out of the car yet. The windows were down and the radio was off. We listened to the sound of crickets and passing cars as we enjoyed each other’s company in a different way than we ever had before. 

“It’s almost midnight, get some sleep. Your brain needs rest after all that translating.” 

“Your brain doesn’t rest when you sleep, your body does,” You said and turned to me. Our faces were probably only six inches apart. Your breath was hot on my cheeks and you kept doing that damn tongue thing. 

“But you need some sleep (Y/N). You don’t sleep well.”

“I sleep well on your couch,” I said and you smiled. The space between us had gotten much much smaller. 

I put my hand on your cheek and felt the slight stubble there. You made the first move Spence. All I did was hold your face, you’re the one who closed the gap. 

That was one of the best kisses of my life. It lasted maybe ten seconds, but it was ten seconds that took years to get to. It was all that longing and pining and pent up feelings released at once. Nothing in the world is as special as kissing you, Spencer Reid. 

That next Monday we got shit from the team. Garcia is such a blabbermouth. Derek and Rossi made fun of us like middle schoolers. Hotch gave us that big bad ‘one of you will have to leave speech’. Deep down they were all happy for us. We all needed something to be happy about. And we were happy Spence, so so happy. Until we weren’t. 

So take this bent up ticket and admire it again before placing the memory of our first date on a shelf in the corner of your mind that will get dusty. I hope someday you’ll brush it off and relive it. 

There’s a Korean proverb I learned from you, that means: ‘At the end of hardship comes happiness.’ 

I hope that’s true.

xo,

YN”

Spencer put the letter down and picked up the ticket. He walked across the living room to a corkboard on the wall. There he took a pushpin and fastened the ticket to the board. It was surrounded by pictures of everyone he loves. Group pictures, his mom, Henry, pictures of the two of you. But in the center of it all was that ticket that had been so bent up because of how nervous you were for your date. He never told you how nervous he was then too. He had to make sure he wasn’t stuttering through the translations. Your close proximity to him, the smell of your perfume, and warmth of your body pressed against him made it hard to think. He held your hand so tightly that night because he thought that maybe you wouldn’t notice how badly they were shaking. He only got up the nerve to kiss you because when you weren’t looking he texted Derek, and he told him he had to. He remembered how his heart felt like it was leaping out of his chest when he closed the gap, how you sighed into him, how you sucked on his lower lip ever so slightly. You were right, nothing is quite like kissing the love of your life. It’s like every kiss you ever had before that kiss, the kiss, didn’t count. It’s the only kiss that matters. 

He admired the ticket one last time, before reaching in to grab envelope #3. 

Part 4!

tags: @l0ve-0f-my-life​

- if you would like to be added to the tag list just let me know! 

[notyetneedcoffee]

Date Nights 5

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut

New Naughty Series

Steve pulled you closer, dropping your hand in favor of putting his arm around your shoulder. Several people walked the sidewalks even though it was late on a Thursday. It was a rough corner of Brooklyn, and since parking the car meant a bit of a walk to the bar, you were happy to take advantage of Steve’s protective embrace. He pulled a slip from the jar that said “share an old memory” and he surprised you by taking several days to come up with a plan.  

You could tell Steve was anxious. His jaw clenched. He kept playing with the keys in his coat pocket with his free hand. “Hey, you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah. Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” His smile didn’t quite touch his eyes.  

You stopped, forcing him to do the same. Before he could say anything, you wrapped both arms around his waist. “I don’t know what you’ve got planned, but if it’s making you feel uncomfortable, we don’t have to do this.” He sighed your name, but you pressed up on your toes to kiss him briefly. “I know you. Your less nervous meeting with the President. What is it?”

Steve sighed. His eyes closed and his head fell back face to the sky for a moment. Finally, he opened his eyes and touched his forehead to yours. “Feeling guilty. Where we’re going, this little bar, I know the owner. I met him through Sam at the VA. Turns out, I knew his granddad back in the day. He was a boy from the neighborhood, a friend of Bucky and mine. Even ended up serving in the 107th with Buck. He was injured in the War and sent home.”

“But you guys don’t stay in touch?”

“I have some. Not as much as I should. For Buck, it brings up a lot of hard memories. Max has a lot of family photos up at the bar, and his granddad, Joey, um, had a thing for Bucky little sister.”

“Bucky has a sister?” You took half a step back, eyes wide. “He’s got family?”

Steve’s face crumbled. “We don’t really talk about it. Becca died in ‘52 in a car crash. It was the night their mom died of cancer. She never had any kids. He’s like me, the last of family.”

“Oh Steve,” you cuddled close. “I’m sorry.”

His strong arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight before shaking off the feeling.  He smiled, “But, Max has great old pictures, serves good wings, plays nothing but oldies, and has a pool table older than I am.”

You beamed back. “Sound wonderful.”  

“Okay, Sugar, let me buy you a beer.” He guided you back down the street to the little neighborhood bar. Steve held the door open for you.  

Inside, a dark wood bar was heavily polished and surrounded by stools covered in dark green leather. Four tall tables were clustered near the front and a pool table a dart lane took up space toward the back. Tony Bennett played over the speakers. Only the bartender and three others occupied the bar.

“Well, holy shit.” The bartender smiled.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Steve smiled. “How you doing, Max?”

You settle on to one of the bar stools as introductions were made around the room. The regulars asked for a couple selfies with Captain America, and Steve happily complied especially when Max insisted that they leave him alone. You began to look over the wall of photographs behind the bar. There were dozens upon dozens.  

A black and white picture that looked like it was taken at a street fair caught your attention. Bucky’s shining smile stood out to you. He looked so innocent, still, that smile was the same. A crowd of five stood around him. One of his arms was around a brunette girl with his eyes. His other arm was around a short blond boy who . . . holy fuck. “Steve!”  

“What?” He extricated himself from the others and rushed to your side. “Are you okay?”

You looked up into his face, eyes roaming over his broad shoulders, floored. “That’s you.”

He followed you finger. A sweet, awkward grin spread across his face. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Looking back to the photo again, you couldn’t keep the smile from your face. “How old are you there?”

“Fifteen, sixteen maybe.”

“Fifteen-year-old me, would totally be into fifteen-year-old you.”  

“What?” He laughed.

“Look at you. You’re so cute. I mean, that smile.” The picture captivated you. He was so light.  

Steve’s arms wrap around your shoulders. His breath tickled your ear. “I think fifteen-year-old me would have fainted at a fifteen-year-old you.”  

You giggled. “It’s amazing to see you and Buck so young. I mean I know you’ve been friends forever, but it’s so cool to see pictures.”

“Yeah, there aren’t many.” Steve stood up straight, pointing at a different one. “There’s one of Joey, Becca and Bucky. Below it is Joey and his cousin, but that’s my old building. I lived there.”  

“Wait, what’s that?” You pointed at a very faded news article.  

“That,” Max took it off the wall and handed it to you. “Is the world’s first look at the new Steve Rogers.”  

The news clipping had a picture of Steve in too small clothes, holding the door off an old yellow cab. Steve leaned close to you. “That was the very day Dr. Erskine changed me, changed everything. Then he was killed. I was chasing his killer when that picture was taken.”

“Wow. How did you do that? Weren’t you like on newborn wobbly legs?” The absurd question popped in you mind.  

Steve snorted a laugh, pulled out of the dark memory. “I fell through Miller’s dress shop – totally through the front of the shop – because I was just moving but it was all new. Too much adrenaline to be wobbly, but I was far from graceful.”

“He sure did scrub up, though.” Max handed you another photo frame. This one held a promotional photo from a USO Tour. Steve posed holding a woman in a little red white and blue outfit on his shoulder and a cheesy shield in his other hand.  

You smiled. “Oh, that’s classic.” You heard him groan. Your hand slipped down to stroke his thigh. “I like the uniform you have now.”

“You want something to drink, Sweetheart?” He leaned a little closer.  

“Jameson, neat. Please.”  

“Pint for me.”

“Coming up.” Max left you and Steve sat on the bar stool next to you.  

He pulled the stool a little closer so you were practically between his legs. His hand slipped from your knee, under your skirt to your thigh. Steve stared at you with a mischievous smirk.  

“What?” You giggled.  

Steve waited until Max dropped off your drinks and left for the regulars at the other end of the bar before he leaned forward and kissed you briefly. “It’s shouldn’t be such a big deal, but saying a younger you would be interested in me when I was young... Sweetheart, that just makes me want to kiss every inch of your body.”

You turned toward him a little more, back to the others in the bar. Your fingers traced over his face, touched his lips. “Steve, I care about you for you. It doesn’t matter how strong you are or how powerful. Who you are is sexy... how you treat me, your sense of humor, your intelligence.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “The fact that you use that amazing body to fuck me until I come so hard I pass out, that’s just a bonus.”

His fingers dug into your thigh as he sharply inhaled through his nose. “Damn, woman. I want you.”  

You leaned forward and he kissed you, slow and deep. Steve didn’t normally do such things in public. It took your breath away.  

A crowd of people poured through the front door. Steve pulled back, a sly smile on his face. He took a long pull from his beer before looking over his shoulder at the pool table. “Care for a game?”

Three games and two drinks later, the bar had filled with locals. The volume increased, people yelling over one another and laughing. Thankfully, almost everyone left the two of you alone. However, you never did see Steve pay for another drink.  

You’d discovered Steve was a masterful tease without anyone else being the wiser. You would lean over to take a shot, and he would stealthily slip a hand over your ass. He would trade spots with you, and while your back was to the crowd, his fingertips would trace over your breast.  

Then there were the sinfully dirty promises dripped into your ear on his hot breath. He made your whole body shiver by the time he whispered, “Do you think anyone will notice if I have your panties in my pocket and my come on your thighs when we walk out of here tonight.”

“Steve.”

“I want you,” His arm encircled your waist and he pressed himself into you. “Now.”

His eyes scanned the room. You bit back a protest when he moved you closer to the door that led to the bathrooms. Steve looked alert, watching and listening. He opened the door and guided quickly, but smoothly, inside. In the hall you saw only three doors, the men’s, women’s, and office.  

“Steve, what are you...” He cut you off with a deep, but much too short, kiss.  

Pulling you into the women’s room, he locked the door. Steve gave you a wicked grin. “Quiet.”

His hand bunched your skirt until he felt the flesh of your ass. Your fingers buried in his hair as your tongues dances. When he tore your panties with a sharp tug, you gave a little yip of shock. Steve’s mouth left a wet trail over your neck as his finger slipped into the wetness between your legs.  

“Shhh, love.”  

But his fingers slipped in and out, rubbing against you perfectly. His teeth scraped along the nerves of your neck. Breath came fast and heated. You clutched at him. A whine escaped your throat, but Steve smothered it with a kiss. 

His hand worked to release his cock. Before you could reach for him, Steve spun you around. His mouth attacked the sensitive spot on the back of your neck as he flipped up your skirt and rubbed himself along your slick. You bit your lip to hold back a moan as he slipped into you.

Steve locked eyes with you in the mirror. Flushed and panting. Clothes and hair mussed. So hot. You breathed. “Fuck me.”

His hips snapped, thrusting into you. Steve’s arms wound around you. A palm on your mound to finger your clit.  His other hand clutched at your breast. You put both hands on the counter, holding on and his cock slammed against your g spot, making your legs shake.  

You panted, open mouthed, and fought to stay quiet. Still the exquisite ache, the coiled tension, the fire in your belly, grew. Steve’s breath washed over your flesh, his brow drew together, as his cock pound you. Skin hit skin. It didn’t take long. You were both wound tight. Your cunt spasmed. Steve pulled you flush to him. 

His eyes caught yours. Everything broke. You shook. A moan crawled out your throat. Steve’s hand covered your mouth. You quivered, coming hard. He growled. Hip pressed into you hard, deep, emptying himself. Steve held you there, mouth pressed against your neck as your breath returned to normal. 

As his hand lowered from your mouth, a giggle escaped. Steve slipped free of you, stand straighter, but still holding you. “Hmm?”

“I just,” You sighed. “I love that I’m the one who get to know this side of you.” Another giggle erupted. “You’re so naughty.”

“Hey,” Steve smirked while he helped straighten your dress and squeezed your breasts. “These date nights were your idea. Are you saying you’re disappointed with the results?”

“Oh hell no.” You turned around, feeling the mess between your legs.  

“Good.” Steve put his own clothes in order and kissed you again. “Because the smell of you is going drive me crazy all the way home.” When your mouth fell open, he chuckled. Steve pulled your lower lip lightly between his teeth. “Hypersensitive senses are really a blessing sometimes.”  

“I think you’re the blessing.” You grinned. “Now go on, give me a second to straight up so I don’t walk out of here looking thoroughly fucked.”

“You’re beautiful.” Steve pressed his lips to your forehead. He opened the door but stood there waiting for you. Running your fingers through your hair, you tried to ignore his smile. It didn’t work. “Come on, Sweetheart. Let’s make a run for it.” 

TAGS

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[daughterofhel]

.

My icon died last night.

The little black and white cat, Auk (or-ick). A silly name from a badly remembered name from my childhood.

He was pretty much deaf; car got him.

I haven’t seen him since I left Texas, as I moved for a year to VA before finally moving to be with my wife in Vento. One of my guy friends family took him in on their ranch.

It was fitting; I did get Auk from a ranch. He was used to it, loved it even. And this was without the competition of an unhealthy amount of breeding stays like the ones I grabbed him and Ivy up from. I could only take two, my friend the same.

Funny. I had originally gone there to see the birth of a colt only to leave with a cat. Return the next day and get one more, a friend for my tiny runt of a thing.

And who should but all demand it be him to leave with me but Auk? The friendliest of cats that I’ve ever had the pleasure to be around. He also thwarted my attempts at having two girl cats. He was insistent to leave with me and you don’t argue when you’re chosen you know?

I won’t detail the tears following or the rough road and chaos that went on, but many double shifts back to back to back endlessly, a medicated clumsy grandmother with rapidly failing health, and complex roommate situations, I just wasn’t able to provide the needed time and care for my cats.

I cried the entire 45 minute drive to my buddys property when he said he could take them in. I had to pull over twice. They also cried the entire time, being afraid of the car, which made it harder. My buddy, He was the same guy who rescued a big pup clearly abandoned some years back. I had helped train him to not jump on people and other stuff. His folks also owned a longhorn ranch, lots and lots of space.

Those cats deserved better and this was a familiar element, now neutered, vaccinated, and with no stray competition and the dog was so careful. But god. I never wanted to say goodbye to my cats. It didn’t matter though, what I wanted; they needed care and time I wasn’t able to keep providing.

So I dropped them off. As expected, Ivy kept close but never got too close to the family. She simply doesn’t trust; I’ve no idea why such a little thing bonded instantly with me and remained quite the fixed cuddle bug. But she had. I felt worse about it with her than Auk if I’m to be honest.

Auk loved attention. Loved fetch. Belly rubs. This cat was a classic dog and a huge whore for attention. XD He essentially made himself at home and lavished any and all attention, to which my buddies mother instantly fell for this fuzzy dorks charms. He has been well cared for.

I know younger me could’ve and should’ve done better when I got these cats. Mind you, I’ve been gone for over 10 years now, so it has been quite some time. I’m doing what I wish I could have done for my cats then with the two rescues we got last year here.

I was young and working so many hours for nearly no profit after stuff was paid, even living at home and with roommates. I couldn’t afford the extra vet fees I needed or the fanciest of foods or any of that. I loved them, and I felt them being with me instead of the half starving state they were in from constantly competing with so many other cats, was still a better option for them. I still was at least able to do some of the important visits for them.

I cleared their fleas and earmites. I never did get rid of Ivys worms, though I desperately tried. I tried so many ways to get this pill into that cat. Even crushed into wet food. Friends helping to wrap and hold her to make her swallow. All the tricks we found, failed. She just. She wouldn’t take it. And I didn’t have the cash to go every single day and time she needed a dose to a pet clinic. I had checked more than once. It was so much money.

Older, better situated now.. I’ve been able to do right by the cats, Nyx and Tivali, that I have now.

We even saved Nyx’s eye. We have a system to give her her seizure medicine every 12 hours. They’re both fully up to date with their shots and are fixed. Ears totally clean. Monthly newly added anti flea tick collars.

The best food we can reasonably find at the local pet shop; their pelts are beautiful, soft, shiny, and they never smell.

We’ve even found a biodegradable corn based litter we can flush which has been the greatest find.

We get semi regular check ups on our girls and they’re doing just fine now. I’m still proud about saving Nyx’s eye. It was a tedious ordeal. 3-4 times a day we had to clean and medicate a cats eye. We got good at it even if she wasn’t fond of it. Thankfully the vitamins they required were like treats. Even the antibiotics from the colds they had from the shelter.

I miss Auk. And Ivy. And I wish I could’ve not only given them the life I’ve given my current cats now, (I’ve constructed basket beds, hammocks, a whole canopy jungle gym and rope bridge to boot for them with my wife!), but I wish I could have been the one to have them in my life still. I know it was not possible. It wouldn’t have been possible.

But I think of them. A lot. And I knew it was inevitable. Auk would’ve been well over 13 or so years by now. A little old but could’ve lived longer yet for sure. My buddy didn’t mention he has gone deaf. Of course he rarely goes home himself; I don’t blame him. Life’s complicated.

I have mourned these two cats multiple times now. So I’m not thrown into tears upon this news, I’ve cried plenty over the years already. But I’m still sad to hear that fuzzy delight has passed on. I won’t ask, but I hope, and believe, the accident was a quick end for such a friendly guy.

I’ll mourn him eventually in full. I know I will. But considering this is the fourth major bad news I’ve gotten in less than a month and most of it a week, I thought to write about it. If only to keep sane.

May I not receive the same news of my grandmother or my sister who both remain in the hospital.

And god. May my mother stop forcing me to recall and talk about our shared trauma under my father and just keep me up to date on my families health. I don’t want to be crushed under this suffocating vice on my neck that makes me hesitate to call and see my family. I know she needs to vent. And god. I try to let her. I do. I try to be kind; she needs it.

But it isn’t the time and place when I’m trying to figure out if my grandmother is dying or getting better. I shouldn’t have to receive that confirmation, be granted a brief video called hello and check in, with the price of an hour long dredge through a past I personally have gone to two different types of therapy through to try and cope with. Which, only to some degree, have helped.

One of the last longer calls we had she all but said she hoped her theories on my father possible molesting me were true, so, you know, that would be one more trauma we had in common. She went on and on, even trying to provide loose evidence to her theory. Troubling sentences I would say in my rare visits. Etc. She just. Wouldn’t. Stop. And that was after an hour of recalling how terrible her life was with my father and the abuse, the screaming, the terror, the hiding, the injuries, all of it. As if I wasn’t left to live my life with this very man she said her three years with ruined her more than all her past shit combined.

She assured me she was a good mother who tried. And honestly. No. But I do believe she tried. But she was already weak emotionally and mentally and my father wrecked what was left. She left me sometimes for a couple days lock in that house when I was in diapers. You don’t forget that shit. I’m still scared of the dark. I can’t reason with myself on it. But being mad about all of it doesn’t change anything and would hurt a woman already broken. Why would I do that.

Still. It bothers me. So fucking much. But she’s such a fragile person in a fragile emotional state with everything else on top. She’s been heavily depressed for many many years and it’s a bunch of other stuff that spirals and honestly, at this point, she’s toxic even to herself. I’ve tried working on it with her but it matters not if she’s not willing to work on it too. I don’t know my mother besides her many traumas. We’ve been separated and estranged for most of my life. Unless I was physically able to actually be there and provide a use.

But that’s par for the course; no one will have you around if you’re unable to provide something for it. My wife’s the first person who genuinely seems to enjoy having me around just because and wants nothing more. I do stuff of course; but with her I am not afraid a slip up could mean everything it taken away and lost. I can forget the dishes once or had a bad mental health day and stay in bed without it having catastrophic consequences. She’s such a wonderful kind woman; I cannot help stressing over how to repay her.

I try and I’ve expressed my distraught on the topic and though she always seems baffled and confused about my insistence that I should be doing far more, that lass doesn’t agree at all. It’s her parents home so I am not able to freely run the house as I would on our own, as I’m able and have in many places, so I’m often less useful with the restrictions. She’s also use to the flow and swing of things and has things half done before it’s being asked.

Our own place will make life smoother and calmer for both of us; most importantly her. I’ve watched this family, sweet, but absolutely tone deaf to how many and often their demands are tossed to her. All the other kids moved out with partners. Hell, the oldest s child basically lives here. Our own hurdle with raising a kid who we don’t have the final say on any single thing. His grandparents are enablers cuz they don’t want to hear any loud noises, no matter what. And that causes strain when the kid can and does get anything and everything as long as he kicks up a fit. And he sure as hell does. There are days it’s so bad my wife’s in tears. And that pisses me off. The kids a good person, but the fact no one will actually parent and draw definite lines and be firm with No’s can also make him horrible too.

I’ve to deal with the chess match that is my father. I often call him my own personal Devil. He kind of is. But one I’m familiar enough with at this point in my life. I know where and when to cut my losses, where to step around, when I need to swallow my pride or the easily seen through lies, and nod my head. If he was all terrible, I could have cut him from my life. But no one ever really is. And I do know I owe it to the man; he has helped tremendously in my life as much as he’s been a big problem of it. I know his biggest fear is to be alone and forgotten. I wouldn’t do that, not even to the devil.

I need some bland news. Not thrilling. Not depressing. Just some ‘hey that happened’ ‘oh cool.’ Kind of news. Just a small reprieve.

Im. Scared. Of what’s next.

I. Know that things are teetering dangerously into a very very tragic terrible story on my mothers end. I know her husbands already super suicidal. My half brothers severely autistic, non verbal, among a few other things and will require his whole life to have someone be there for him. He’s not stupid, and I hate when people treat him as so, but he is absolutely unable to care for himself. He doesn’t have the right motorskills even, though we’ve gone to many different places to try and help him find ways to do actions in his own way that still get the same result. I admire how he’s such a positive little man, generally not just happy, but delighted. I aspire to look at the world like he does. He reminds me to try. I do love that about him.

He is, however, a Big boy, 15 now, and growing. He’s also very strong now. My mother is getting to an age where his, as well call em happy slaps, are really hurting her. He is generally good about slapping your hands and not your back if you provide them. But when he is upset he is a shover; one bad fall could really cause a lot of chaos for my mother with her health. The husband spends most of his time locked in his room.

My half sister is epileptic. They have done tests for years and can’t figure out all her triggers or the whys. They just sometimes stop for a long time then suddenly happen. She’s 16, turning 17 soon. And I don’t even know if she’s going to be, since my mother won’t let me know. And there are large gaps from my sister being on tech due to concerns of what triggered her seizure this time so she’s often removed from electronic devices for a time.

When I had turned 21, my mother and her husband tried to have me sign a paper to become legal guardian of my half siblings, should something happen to them, so the kids didn’t get separated.

At that time, I was still taking care of my fathers mother along with working at a shit job, and had a house full of temporary roommates who I had offered rooms to as a sort of safe house for them. I have a knack for finding people from broken homes, what can I say? With the house my father and I built, we had space, so I used it. I was able to help the girls get out of toxic places, get on their feet, and move on. Not all of them always. But it did generally work out. One has a boyfriend who was growing worse to her on top of getting more and more into hard drugs while also she dealing with an abusive aunt who got worse once her mother died of cancer. So she was stuck with the terrible boyfriend. I had her stay with me as soon as I heard.

Another was complicated, but generally revolved around the alcoholic mother and the many, shady, men in and out of the house. The dangers of that alone were.. problematic without the friend also being suicidal and not taken seriously. I’ve stayed many times with her to just hang out, clean, cook, or even read a book cuz she just wanted to hear someone talking and such. You know? Until eventually I had her move in with me too.

Another’s mothers died of a cancer and dad an alcoholic; not abusive, he just became childlike and super forgetful. To a hurtful degree in his totally dependent state, whenever he was home. Plus their whole little trailer smelled of piss. And her boyfriend (they’re married with kids and happy now) was in jail. He had a bad past but had cleaned up his act quite well, but. Well that’s complicated. We all know that the police don’t squint at details of any issue if the accused has a problematic past.

I had two different girls with trouble at home who were being used by their family to constantly work, clean, and pay for everything.

I had an ex and her girlfriend with problematic homophobic parents who were terrible and semi violent so I had them stay with us so they could be together somewhere safer.

I did not. At all. Have the assured means to also be a parent of ten children with very different needs nor any medical benefits to help out with.

I also knew, that, with how my mothers husband was, if he had some guarantees for his children’s safety, he would likely end his life if he could. He’s been so close so many times. If signed this paper, he would have the last big most important concern that’s kept him from.. I just. I didn’t want him to do it. I selfishly didn’t want to be responsible for my siblings that would take away any bit of time I had for myself away. If anything happened, I would not abandon and forget my siblings. That’s absurd. But my mother implied heavily she wanted to be sure of that. And thus this paper.

I was struggling to find aid for college so I could go to school (never got to, by the way. Minus two classes in total. Aced them both, but it doesn’t matter. Credits in the wind). I was already dealing with my grandmother. The girls I chose to help. My shit job. My fathers temper and his horrible horrible ‘on again off again’ girlfriend. The chaos that alone committed.

I was busy providing a safe space in my home and making sure it stayed that way for the rare times trouble makers made the mistake of stepping up to my door to try and harass my girls.

I often worked 10 days in a row before a day off. Many of those days often had double shifts which were 16 hours. Sometimes I got an hour nap on the double shifts.

I just couldn’t do it.

And now. I remember something that came to mind back then that comes back to mind now. My moms husband adores my grandma. She’s been better to him than his own mother. She’s dying. He’s not taking it well and his mental health has always been pretty low and in the last couple years, already dangerously rock bottom. I’ll admit, same.

His daughter is now in the hospital. My brother is smart but there are some things we can’t really explain for him to get. He understands something is wrong but not sure what and it upsets him. He doesn’t like change and gets super fussy for it. Which can be taxing and hours and days and weeks of it. Grandmas been in the hospital for a couple more or more now. She coded a few days ago but they got her back.

If grandma dies. If something happens to my sister…

God. I don’t see that man sticking around.

And with my mom isolated. A lot of it her doing with her own family but also a good part of it being dumb petty bs of other folks that have no reason to behave like that (a whole drama I don’t have the energy to keep up with..). I just.

I see it as a domino effect of terrible terrible events I don’t want to write.

My mothers side im not very close to. I don’t blame my cousins, we were kids ajd our meetings were brief as they were. But the adults kept their distance with me. No one expected me to survive and decided it was easier to not get attached. To not get involved with me, and by extension, the devil himself, my father. So I never got the chance to know that family. Even when I tried.

So the only family I do have some ties to ajd know, is in a hospital bed, or on my dads side, and they’re dying to. And I get it… that at a certain age in life, many of the people around you start to. It’s just life. Ajd it sucks. And I miss having a best friend. I miss having friends who just seem to like to have me around. Want to have me around.

And I wonder if the friends I thought I made with my roommates were just because I provided something for them. Sure we laughed a lot, we cried over shared traumas, celebrated holidays together so as to not be alone.

But not a one speaks to me now. And hey. That’s also life. But it makes me feel pretty shitty; every where I look in the past, I can’t see any relationship, family, partner, friendship, that ever had me around unless I was providing services they wanted and needed. And I don’t mean the natural give and take.

I’m aware that I’m not the friend folks have around. I’m a fun distraction at best and have been told and reminded as such. I feel like shit cuz my wife’s wonderful and the best person in my life, and yet I still mourn having close friends to hang with. I miss gaming together the most. Or the bullshitting. Sharing food.

I’m not a nice person. I’m working on it. I am. I’ve also, for years, been working on my own personal problems so as to not bring them into even conversations. I don’t know what I am doing wrong but I just.. can’t seem to keep anyone around. And frankly.

I find myself crying about it a lot with no idea what to do.

And. I’m burnt out.

I don’t want to make friends anymore. And yet I still crave it. Which sucks. I can’t stop seeming to want that. And I keep trying. And trying.

I’m trying to accept and be happy with any bit of time I get from the few friends who talk to me. I try to take my chances where I can to hang out (online, as they’re all distance by now), cuz I know it’s a short window and I’ll be lucky to get a next time in the near future.

Online is harder to provide a use, and once the ‘honeymoon phase’ of the friendship winds down, some drop off the map entirely. A few abruptly. And I just. That’s fucked me ho a ton. I can’t even express how many hours I stay sitting. Thinking. Unable to understand what I am not doing or what I am.

It’s a pity party. I know. But it’s fine. I’m still the only one at it and though I’m quite forward even with nerves eating away at me, I still just don’t know how to keep anyone in my life.

It’s taken almost 6 years for me to relax enough to believe my wife will, in fact, stick around.

But at this point in time, I’ve realized, on a note I just keep getting really sad over, that the bits of friendship I’ll get to experience with people, will be brief, snippets, and frankly, only if I am providing something they’re not getting.

I’m essentially the magazine next to the toilet when you have a bad bad stomach bug and your phones dead.

Man’s that’s.. probably my own doing. I know I’m a lot of woe is me in here. And it’s a post talking to me, so I’m indulging in it. I absolutely can’t out loud or in life. I’m working on just.. trying to feel instead of ignoring it. Per my therapists suggestions. So I feel fucking overwhelmed, sad, and alone. Isolated. Heavily.

Ignorance is bliss for real. I wish I wasn’t so aware that I was the friend you go to when all options are down and you’re bored. When you are in a bind and need a safe spot (I don’t mind that one but it does suck that it’s the only time some folks pop back in or up). That if I’m not working then no one even has a small little want to just say hi. I wish I had people who just wanted to say hi because they just.. missed me? I gues?

I wish I knew how to be better as a person and a friend. I thought I was making strides on that. I really had. And yet.

Here I am. Just.

Bitching to the void. Becuase my wife doesn’t need me to add more to her life with her father (finally back from the hospital after surgery) and his health concerned along with everyone else’s and the own sets of ordeals here. I don’t need her to fret over me.

She’s needed distraction and I’ve left her alone for a couple weeks now to her drawing. Probably one of the best things I did do for her was clean up a space for a literal drawing room for her. She’s happier for it. People compliment her art and she rather enjoys the well deserved attention.

I personally would love to have her around more. But I’m having a lot of bad shit days. Weeks at this point. And I’m using my energy to be useful in setting the table or doing the dishes, the cats, playing with the nephew, etc.

All I want to do is sleep.

Frankly. I’m tired of waking up.

But for her. I will.

[lu-undy]

Chapter 105 - SBT

Here it is!

"Mundy? Mundy, wake up, mon amour, Mundy?" 

Lucien was patting Mundy's shoulder repeatedly.

"Uh? Huh…? W-what's wrong?" Mundy opened one eye and frowned. 

"It's Perle, I can't find her, please, help me, I-I don't know what to do…!" 

Mundy opened his other eye in a flash and blinked repeatedly. Both him and Lucien got out of bed. 

"Have you looked everywhere in the house?" 

"Oui, I-I cannot find her or Soot… I am terrified, Mundy…!" Lucien's breath was short and fast. 

"Alright, let's look together, switch the lights on everywhere. You go and take downstairs, I stay here upstairs, now go…" 

Lucien obeyed without a second thought and hurtled down the stairs. In a few seconds, all the house was lit up and as Mundy looked at the alarm clock in their room, he realised it was a few minutes past three in the morning. 

"Pearl? Pearl, baby? Sooty boy?" He looked in the room, the cupboards, the bathroom, the cat's room…

"Perle? Perle, ma chérie? Mon bébé? Soot? Où êtes-vous tous les deux?"

[Perle? Perle, my darling? My baby? Soot? Where are you, the both of you?]

Mundy came downstairs to help his lover and found Lucien running from one room to the next. All the cupboards in the kitchen were open and the living-room looked as if it had just been burgled. 

"Babies? Where are you…?" 

"I cannot find them anywhere, Mundy? Did they leave? Did they just go? But why? And where to?"

Mundy took his lover by the hand and pulled him closer to hug him and comfort him. 

"Pearl can't have gone far, she's big and slow…" He frowned to think when-

"Meow!" 

Both Lucien and Mundy's head swooshed to the direction the meow had come from. It was a windowsill. The window was open and Soot slithered inside. 

"Soot!" Lucien leapt at the cat. "Where is Perle? Is she alright?"

The black cat slithered away and upstairs. 

"Soot! Soot, wait!" 

Both men rushed after the cat who darted to the bedroom. He bit into one of Lucien's shirts and ran back downstairs, slithering like a shadow. 

"Soot!" 

Both men ran back downstairs and caught a glimpse of the cat leaping outside, through the open window. 

"Let's go, Lu'!" 

Mundy unlocked the door and both him and Lucien ran in the dead of night, barefoot in the street and hand in hand. Lucien was in his pyjamas while Mundy was still in a tank top and pair of boxer shorts. 

They didn't have to run for long as Soot slipped under the van with the shirt that he had stolen. Lucien and Mundy went on all four and looked underneath the van. 

"It's dark as all hell… Wait…" 

Mundy ran back home and came back with the van's keys. He unlocked the back door and slipped in. Not a second later, he emerged and lit a flashlight.

"Oh, bugger, baby!"

"Perle!"

Perle was restless under the van, walking in circles in a slow and heavy gait. When she saw Papa and Dad, she pushed herself out of her hiding and meowed long and painful. 

"We're here, baby… Lu', it's happenin', oh shit, she's lickin' herself now… Let me carry her to the van." Mundy gently carried her inside. "Quick, Lu', get some towels from the cupboard, now lay them down, perfect, here we go…" 

Mundy went to his knees and lowered Perle on the towels that Lucien had placed on the floor. 

"Oh, mon Dieu…" Lucien was restless too and on his knees, he was shaking from teeth to toes, "W-what can I do? Perle? Perle, dis-moi, mon bébé…"

[Perle? Perle, tell me, my baby…]

Soot gently put the shirt next to Perle who was laying down and licking her nether regions repeatedly. 

"Alright, Lu', listen here, there isn't much we can do. When the babies get born, don't touch them before she does, ok? It'll be messy but she needs to clean them herself, alright?" 

Lucien was still shaking, and his teeth were chattering. Mundy switched the light on in the van and closed the door. He came back to sit on the floor, next to Lucien, and pulled him into a comforting hug. 

"Why is she licking herself there? Is she hurt? Do we need to take her to the veterinarian? Sh-should we drive her there?" 

"No, sshhh… Lu'..." Mundy gently rocked his lover left and right. "Stop worryin', it's not helping her to feel so much tension in you."

"Will she be fine?" Lucien started biting his nails.

"Yeah, have you not been readin' that book of yours?" 

"Oui, I have but… I-I don't feel so ready now." Lucien shamefully admitted. 

"It's alright, it doesn't matter." Mundy gently brushed Lucien's hair. "Want me to talk you through it?"

"Oui, please." Lucien clawed on his lover's sides and leaned his head on his shoulder, but his eyes never left Perle. 

"See how she's lickin' herself?" 

"Oui." 

"She isn't hurt, she's feelin' it coming. Any second now she - oh, here she is, her water broke. That's why I had you get the towels."

"Can Soot or us help her in any way?" 

"Nah. See how even he's keeping his distance?"

"Oui."

"Then we should do the same. Just be here for her, encourage her, but don't disturb anythin'." 

"Why did he take one of my shirts?"

Mundy smiled. 

"Because that's what brings them comfort, the smell of you. While you were supposedly dead, they slept every night with your jacket and your perfume on it…" He kissed Lucien's head and continued to gently rock him left and right, to comfort him. "And look now, can you see through the fluff there…?" 

"Where?" Lucien pulled his neck to see better while keeping his distance with Perle.

"Look there." Mundy pointed. 

"Is that…?"

"Yeah, it's the first baby." 

"Oh, mon Dieu!" Lucien escaped his lover's arms and looked at Perle, addressing her directly. "Mon bébé, tu peux le faire, allez ma chérie, un petit effort, on peut voir le petit, vas-y ma petite…"

[My baby, you can do it, go on, my darling, a bit more effort, we can see the little one, go on, my baby…]

Mundy put a hand on Lucien's back and brushed him gently. 

"Mundy, are you sure I cannot touch her? I would like to hold her hand."

"I'm sure, love, leave her alone." 

"Fine…" 

"Look, here, baby." Mundy pulled his lover back in his arms and pointed at the first kitten. 

"Oh! It's white! It's white like his mother!" Lucien excitedly announced. 

"Yeah, but look at the paws…"

Lucien squinted. 

"Grand Dieu! It's white with black paws!" Lucien turned to Mundy and hugged him. 

"Yeah, and the first one is out now. Great job Pearl, breathe and go for number two, yeah?" 

"Mundy, listen…!" 

The kitten squeaked. 

"Is it hurt? Is it alright?" Lucien asked, worried. 

"No, luv', it's normal. Babies squeal and mewl to attract mummy's attention. But see how its eyes are closed?"

Lucien leaned closer. 

"Ah, oui, you are right… Is that normal?"

"Yeah, their eyes and ears stay shut for a few days."

"They cannot hear or see anything for days?" Lucien asked.

"Yeah."

"Poor them…" 

"And they're very bad at regulatin' their body temperature, that's why they pile up in a mass of fluff, or they stay stuck to their Mum."

It lasted hours of Lucien going through a roller-coaster of emotions. He would explode in joy whenever a kitten made it entirely out and would worry to the bone through the entire process, when the kitten is half in and half out. 

"This is it! Four of them!" Lucien chimed, trying again to escape his lover's arms, but Mundy held him back, seeing how much the Frenchman wanted to touch either mother or newborns. 

"Yeah, so we got a white one with black paws, a white one with a bit of off-white-ish, a completely black one and a white one with a black tip of the tail." 

"They look so… defenseless…! Mon amour… Can we do anything for them or not yet?" 

"Not yet, see how Pearl is still bathing them?" 

"Oui."

"That means they're not ready for us yet. But y'know what?" 

"Hm?"

"Come with me, we'll go and get some water and food for Pearl and Soot." 

"May I say something to her first?" 

"O'course. D'you want me to leave you alone with her?" 

"Non, please." Lucien tightened his hand on Mundy's. He turned to Perle. "Ma chérie, je suis fière de toi. Papa et Dad sont très fiers de toi. Donne-nous une petite minute, on revient tout de suite. Soot, s'il te plaît, veille sur elle." 

[My darling, I am proud of you. Papa and Dad are very proud of you. Give us a little minute, we will be back in a second. Soot, please, take care of her.]

Both men exited the van and went back home. Mundy headed straight for the kitchen and Lucien let go of his hand, parting ways in the corridor. He didn't think much of it, he assumed Lucien needed to use the bathroom. 

When Mundy finished preparing some food and water for the cats, Lucien appeared at the door. 

"Let us go back, shall we?" 

"What are you doin' with all that?"

"It's pillows and a blanket. You don't think I will sleep here while Perle is there all alone?" Lucien answered. "Come on, she is waiting…!" 

Mundy smiled and followed his lover. A minute later, they were back in the van and Perle had stopped bathing her little ones. 

"Here, Pearl, some food and water. Y'need to drink plenty with all that water you lost, eh?" 

"Meow…" 

"Why does she sound so sad?" Lucien sat on the floor next to her. 

"She isn't sad, baby, she's tired."

"Oh, that I can understand. May I touch her now?" 

"Let's see if she's ok with that…" Mundy approached his hand to Perle slowly. She smelt his fingers and leaned her head to them. "Yeah, she seems alright, luv'. Just try and not tire her more, eh?" 

"Oh, non, of course not." Lucien approached his fingers to her, and Perle looked up at him.

"Meow?" 

"Oui, mon bébé?"

[Yes, my baby.]

Perle purred when Lucien scratched her head and her jaw. The Frenchman showered her in words of praise and affection while Mundy switched on the small electric heater before sitting next to them. 

"So, Lu'..."

"Oui?" 

"We need names for the babies." 

"Oh, oui, we do." 

"Any ideas?" 

"Do we even know if they are male or female?" Lucien asked. 

"Let me check… Pearl, is that ok if I have a look, baby?" Perle laid her head in Lucien's hand and closed her eyes for a moment. "Right, so let's start with the white one with black paws… It's a boy."

"He looks like Glovy but with inverted colours." Lucien said. 

"Then why not Glovy?" 

"Again?" Lucien asked. 

"Yeah, but like uh… Glovy the Second?"

"The long dynasty of the Glovies, hm?" Lucien asked with a smile.

"Yeah, why not?"

"Fine, he is now Glovy the Second. Check the next one."

"This white one with slightly off-white patches is a girl." 

"Oh, a lady… By the way, isn't it strange that the patches she has are not black?"

"Nah, Pearl and Soot could've had plain ginger cats."

"Really?"

"Yeah, so it's not too surprisin' and no, don't look at her like that, it doesn't mean she did her business with another cat."

"She certainly did not." Lucien answered. "We heard her when they… uhm… conceived those babies." 

"Exactly. But yeah, what name shall we go for this one?"

"Any ideas?" Lucien asked. 

"Toasty?"

"Really?" Lucien asked, unconvinced. 

"She looks like Perle but a bit more uh… cooked? Right, maybe it isn't the best name…"

"What is white and you can toast like that?" Lucien wondered out loud. 

"Marshmallow?" Mundy answered and both men locked eyes. "Sounds nice, yeah?" 

Lucien smiled and nodded, leaning on Mundy's side. The Aussie wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. 

"Next one, this black one here… He's a boy."

"Look they are starting to dry off. This one is drying fast, he looks quite fuzzy." 

"Yeah, he's a lil' ball of black fuzz." 

"I know what we will call him." The Frenchman raised his head to his lover and smirked. 

"Alright, what then?" 

Lucien raised his index finger and tapped the tip of Mundy's nose. 

"Bushcat." 

"What?!"

"Look at how he squeals, and looks for comfort in his mother. He is exactly like you, only he is a cat. The Bushman, in cat form."

"Bushcat?"

"Bushcat." Lucien confirmed. 

"Right then." Mundy kissed his lover's brow. "So we've got Glovy, Marshmallow and Bushkitty. Now, for this last one… It's a she, she's white with a black tip of her tail."

"She looks like she dipped the tip of her tail in ink." Lucien said. 

"Inky, then?"

"Oui, Inky." 

"So we got Glovy the second, Marshmallow, Bushcat and Inky, right?" 

"Oui, I think so." Lucien took Mundy's arm and held on to it like he would a teddy bear. The Aussie smiled and kissed Lucien's hair, on his brow. 

"So, we're sleepin' here?" Mundy asked. 

"I will but I don't want to force you if you would rather sleep at home."

"What nonsense are you blabberin' about, baby doll…?" Mundy chuckled. "You think I'll leave you alone to sleep in my own van with the rest of the family while I sleep alone in the house? Pfff, c'mon…" 

They exchanged a chuckle and a quick peck. 

"I'll prepare the bed, you keep an eye on the babies, yeah?" 

"Mundy…?" 

"Yeah, baby?" 

"Thank you." 

"For what?"

"Staying with me here, with us."

"You almost sound like I wouldn't." Mundy said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. 

"Non, I just want to make sure that you don't feel compelled to." 

"Of course not." Mundy answered. "Wanna sleep in the bed or on the floor next to her?"

"We can?"

"Well, I'll have to spoon ya, we don't have much space, but if you feel better that way, yeah, sure. Let's put some blankets on the floor first… There… Put the pillows, yeah? Great, now we can lie down, c'mere, you old baby." 

Lucien snuggled against Mundy and the Aussie threw a blanket over both of them before lacing an arm around Lucien and pulling him close. 

"Thank God for the blanket…" The Aussie said, burying his nose in Lucien's hair. He started closing his eyes.

"Are you feeling cold?" 

Mundy gently nodded. 

"Oh, viens ici…" 

[Oh, come here…]

Lucien rolled to face his lover and pulled him such that Mundy's head was against his chest. The long locks of Lucien's hair softly fell on Mundy's head and face, bringing him an additional source of warmth. The Aussie buried his head there and wrapped his arms around Lucien, pulling him impossibly closer. The Frenchman hooked a leg over his back.

"Are you alright?" He asked. 

"Yeah, I just… I'm happy to be with you for this." 

Lucien heard the muffled sounds of kisses on his chest and smiled. 

"So am I, mon loup." 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?" 

"Remember the first time we slept here?"

"Of course, it was the night I confessed my feelings for you." Lucien gently scratched Mundy's head as he hugged it. 

"Yeah… It was… It was somethin'. I mean, did you really cling to the ladder at the back when I left you?"

"And did you really leave me in the middle of nowhere to be eaten by the coyotes?" Lucien answered. 

"Y'know, right before you joined me in bed and gave me a good scare, I was actually regrettin' it."

"Ah, I feel better." Lucien answered with irony. 

"No, seriously, Lu'. I was thinkin' that I'd gone too far and I shouldn't have left you." 

"Hm." 

"But then I felt somethin' on the bed, I turned and boom. There you were." Lucien smiled, still gently massaging Mundy's scalp. "You were there and I just… Gosh, and you knew I loved you!" 

"Oui." 

"And you loved me too?" 

"Oui." 

"Had you been lovin' me for long or…?"

"Quite a while, oui." 

"And you knew I loved you but you didn't do anythin'?" 

"Non, I didn't."

"You're more shy than I thought." Mundy said. 

"Non, I wasn't being timid, I was being realistic. I was convinced that you deserved to be happy, and I would have given a lot to see you feel whole with me, but I was on a job that would surely end up in my death, and of course, I did not want to involve you in that." 

"Yeah, I understand… Still, I'm glad we ended up together anyway."

"I did give away a year of my life again, to pay that price." Lucien said. "And I am not getting younger, not at all." 

"Neither am I. But if I had to make the choice that you did, basically if I had to choose between losing you for one year but gettin' you in the end, and losin' you forever? Yeah, I'd have chosen the same. I want to live with you, do stuff with you, see stuff with you… I don't know, I just… I feel like things make sense with you, and I can be myself. I don't need to change myself for you to like me or not find me weird."

"Of course not. Playing a role you can do for short periods of time. But pretending to be someone else for a long period of time will affect you, badly so." 

"Is that the ex-Spook talkin'?"

"Oui, it is."

"Right." Mundy looked up and Lucien met his eyes. "Professor Ski."

Lucien chuckled and laced his legs between Mundy's. 

"It's been a long time since I heard this name." 

"And it turned out to be quite good, you are teachin' in the end, yeah?" 

"Oui, it is true, although what I teach has nothing to do with skiing."

"Well, can't be that good at predictin' the future. It's like the weather forecast." Mundy chuckled. 

"So, if you can see in the future, what do you see for us?" Lucien asked. 

Both had their eyes closed and their limbs intertwined with one another. 

"That you and I are gonna fall asleep very soon, Lu'." 

"Even I could have made that prediction." 

"You didn't ask for somethin' that you couldn't predict." 

"And what if I do?" Lucien asked. 

"Well then, I guess I gotta tell you what I'm gonna do now."

"Pray tell." 

"C'mere… I'm gonna hold you close… Like this… And I'm gonna kiss your forehead… Mh, like this, and I'm gonna wish you a good night, baby doll." 

"Good night to you too, mon loup." 

They both closed their eyes and the squeals of the kittens dissolved in the air as they too fell asleep.

[desiraypark]

Clyde x Sherri Master Post

Clyde x Sherri is an ongoing non-linear series about (now) married couple, Clyde and Sherri (Simmons) Logan. Clyde and Sherri are currently living it up in “real-time”, but entries could be set in the past or future. Sometimes major events are sped up (ex: in real-time, they moved to Norfolk, VA in September 2020, but I’ve been writing them in their new city since July 2020).  This post (which is long, I must add) contains a breakdown of the series entries and some story development details (the Capricorn jumps out, y’all).  Full Series in Posting Order (Entry Breakdown below) LONG POST WARNING

ENTRY INDEX ( *- means they’re being sexy and/or they’re gonna bang) Before They Met July 1992 (Young Clyde x Sherri cross paths) Dating Era The First Date “Familiar” (How They Met) Untitled Prompt Request (Clyde asking Sherri to quit one of her jobs) “Was it for a good reason?” (Sherri learns about the robbery)  Shattered (continuation of the previous) Locked Away (cont. of the prev.) No More Secrets (cont. of the prev.) - Sherri x Jimmy Like Magnets (cont. of the prev.) Meet the Parents (Clyde meets Terry & Ramona Simmons) “Where’s Sherri?” (Request/Clyde x Sherri at a family cookout) Honeybunch (Why Sherri calls Clyde “Honeybunch”) Movin’ In (Prompt request)

Married (Before the child/children) Dearly Beloved (Part of their Wedding) Shut Up, Clyde* (Their Honeymoon) Summer Madness (Summer fluff) Bare Feet (Prompt Request - Clyde and Sherri enjoy a kiddie pool) Lil’ House Guest (Critter alert) Have Clyde’s Cake and Eat It, Too (Sherri can’t resist sweets) Sherri Logan, P.I.* (A lil’ roleplay)  Bad* (A hint of dominatin’ Clyde) Are We Ready? (Discussing children) “Where is my tongue?!” (Sherri gets her wisdom teeth pulled) A Birthday First* (Sherri puts on a show) Lunch Time* (Clyde his hungry) “Love Won’t Let Me Wait”* (Baby Fever in a thunderstorm) Yoink! (Sherri is not to be trifled with) Headed West (Clyde and Sherri move) Every Room* (You see what it says) Something in Common (Clyde and Sherri meet their neighbors) A Mean Old Fashioned (Clyde gets a new job) “Her Name is Sherri.” (Clyde finds the perfect job for Sherri) A Long Night* (If you give a Clyde a remote...) Negative to a Positive (Sherri suspects pregnancy) Deserving (Sherri helps Clyde through anxiety) Bad Mood* (Clyde fixes that lil’ attitude) Babies with Dimples (Clyde and Sherri have too much to drink) Sherri and the Giant Peach (Sherri tries on business clothing) Apple Pie (Sherri freestyles a popular dessert) Chef Sadie (Sadie goes on a cooking competition reality show) Too Much* (Clyde lets out some frustration) No Solids / No Sweets (Sherri’s sick and refuses to do the right thing) Cherries & Honey (Sherri gets a tattoo) The Near Future The Big People (From Clyde and Sherri’s child’s POV) Shush. (Pregnant Sherri wants Clyde to be comfortable) Peanut Butter Jelly Time! (Pregnant Sherri is hungry and horny) The Family Man (Clyde’s dad returns) Catwoman (The Logans go trick-or-treating) The Distant Future Ruby (Clyde and Sherri’s 40th Anniversary) The Weight (Part I - Part II) (Sherri deals with impostor’s syndrome) With Others No More Secrets (Sherri x Jimmy) The Little Things (Clyde x James Cooke) Extra Stuff The World of Clyde x Sherri - “behind-the-scenes” type stuff (includes their birth charts, text conversations, descriptions of their homes, etc.) Sim Clyde x Sherri (I made them in The Sims 4) _______________________ MAJOR TIMELINE The events of Logan Lucky are pushed back to 2015 solely because I wanted Clyde and Sherri to have known each other for a long-time (again, relative to “real-time”).  2015 Early May - Clyde got locked up Late August - Clyde got out December - Clyde moved into his own two-bedroom home // Clyde and Sherri “formally” met.  2017 January - Clyde and Sherri started dating Early April - Clyde and Sherri broke up Early May - Clyde and Sherri got back together Late May - Sherri formally met Jimmy and Mellie  June - Clyde met Sherri’s separated parents (Terry and Ramona Simmons) 2018 March - Clyde and Sherri got engaged September - Clyde and Sherri got married “2020″ September - Clyde and Sherri moved to Norfolk, VA. ______________________ BACKGROUND STORIES Some Clyde Logan headcanons; Sherri Logan development Content/Trigger Warnings: Depression; impostor syndrome; self-doubt; death; parent death; war mention; war injury mention; abandonment (by a parent); cancer mention. Sherri (Simmons) Logan was born on January 25, 1988, in Charleston, West Virginia. Her family moved to Boone when she was a toddler. She has an older sister named Robyn and a little brother named Terry Jr (aka TJ). Sherri graduated high school with a 4.0 GPA and attended North Carolina Central University where she studied Early Childhood Education for two years. Her life’s dream was to become an elementary school librarian. While in college, Sherri’s parents separated. As a result, she became depressed, and eventually so overwhelmed with school work that she dropped out.  Despite her inner desire, Sherri avoided any work in the education field and took on jobs in retail and customer service. When she and Clyde started dating, she worked two jobs--cashier at a dollar store and cashier at a local supermarket. She was also living with her best friend, Tasha. Sherri still feels the “sting” of (self-imposed) embarrassment that has come with being “the one who was supposed to “make it” but didn’t”, but occasionally considers returning to school. Sherri’s sister, Robyn, moved back to Charleston when she married Devon. They have a son, Devon Jr (aka DJ), and a baby girl named Princess. Her brother, TJ, lives in Atlanta, GA. Sherry currently works as the morning/afternoon receptionist at Busy Bees Daycare. Entries to Reference: “July 1992″, “Her name is Sherri.”, “Untitled Prompt Request”, “Familiar”. Clyde Logan was born on November 25, 1983, in Boone, West Virginia to Donna Logan and Timothy Green. He has an older brother named James (aka Jimmy) and a little sister named Melody (aka Mellie). When Clyde was about eight years old, Timothy (never having married Donna), abandoned his family--only sending the occasional postcard to his parents and for the first couple of years, birthday cards to his kids (through his parents). When Donna died of cancer in 1996, the Logan children moved in with their maternal grandparents, Aaron and Sylvia. 

Around this time, Clyde noticeably became more introverted, but often got in trouble for little mischievous acts (ex: setting off the school fire alarm to get out of a test; the occasional schoolyard fight). He joined the Army after high school and just as he was returning home after a second tour in Iraq, Clyde lost the lower part of his left arm in a roadside accident. Inspired by his newfound love for cooking shows, Clyde began taking bartending classes, and late in 2004, started working at Duck Tape. He worked there for sixteen years. 

Aaron and Sylvia Logan have since passed away (Aaron in 1999, Sylvia in 2008), as has Clyde’s paternal grandmother, Betty (d. 2013). His brother Jimmy currently lives in Greenbrier County, WV has a daughter named Sadie and a fiancée named (ironically), Sylvia. Mellie is recently married to Joe Bang. Clyde currently works as day bartender at a posh restaurant called Strafford’s Kitchen.  Entries to Reference: “July 1992″, “Familiar”, “A Mean Old Fashioned”, “Headed West”.  _____________________ I even have a work schedule for these two but I’m gonna to sit down somewhere and finish this. Bye. Lol.