#the final version is almost exactly what I envisioned after all

[empty-dream]

first draft

"I wanted to build you a garden."

[bad-apple-darlin]

I just finished my rewatch of s2e6… first time I’ve watched it since last summer. So here are my immediate thoughts after the final fifteen (mostly just agony tbh)

Oh boy what a ride that was. I had an intense mounting sense of dread through the whole episode, no lie, knowing exactly what pain was about to be inflicted on me and them. When the Metatron showed up in line at Nina’s I got a shiver even. Then of course Crowley opens the talk, all panicky and rushed, words spilling out of him. The dam is breaking on millennia of suppressed feeling and Aziraphale really just “hold that thought”s him and I can’t take it. Neither can Crowley. The silence of the background is deafening, I noticed that more this time than ever. It’s like time stops between them right there - tell me you said no. If I’m in charge…

The tension snaps and the heartbreak starts to unfold. Crowley makes his petition, his voice breaking in the exact right places to make my heart seize up. We’ve spent our existence - this love is ancient, this love is built into our foundations - pretending that we aren’t. Let’s stop pretending.

Aziraphale wants it; you can see it in the way he leaps forward at Crowley there. He’d take his hands if he could. Come with me - his vision for this version of them in heaven only-even-nicer is only possible if they go together. It means they can be together, openly, honestly, freely - well, free to do Heaven’s bidding. For one heartbeat of a moment, I think Aziraphale sees them wanting the same thing, and thinks he has found a way.

Oh, Crowley. Nothing last forever. And that’s it, I’m in tears, the miscommunication reaches its height and Crowley is shuttering himself to the world and Aziraphale watches his retreat with such open confusion and longing that it makes my stomach turn. They pick at each other, never content to let a scab form, always scratching at it. I don’t think you understand - oh I think I understand better than you do. They tense up again, the anger grows, and as Aziraphale turns away you can see the breath escape Crowley. His shoulders drop, he does this heavy-heart gasp for air before he storms across the shop to Aziraphale and the pure want of it drives me mad. Look at me. Don’t turn away from this. This is important, the most important thing. Don’t leave me alone with this.

And Aziraphale takes it in, pushes into Crowley, meets him for that sublime moment. It almost works. You can see the anguish build on Aziraphale’s face as he tries to process through it - I love - I want - I can’t - I forgive you.

Will any series of facial expressions devastate me more than the moment after Crowley leaves the bookshop? When Aziraphale’s face crumbles as the realization that his life long love is leaving him, the fear and sadness and longing, confusion and hurt. Aziraphale’s hands are trembling and mine are too and I cannot imagine the devastation of losing the one creature in all of creation that you have loved since before the beginning of time itself. The scale and depth of their relationship gives me whiplash to think about. And here, in fifteen minutes, it all starts unraveling at once, the subtleties, the coded language, the unspoken desire, the deep, passionate love. All of it laid bare and then ripped apart, their whole world crushed, and the promise of more destruction to come.

So Aziraphale is on his own, like he hasn’t been for time immemorial. And Crowley is on his own too, but without the anchor points of the precious, peaceful existence he was so attached to. Crowley looks exhausted. Aziraphale looks like an animal realizing that the cage he’s in isn’t meant to protect him, but to keep him trapped. He looks like a madman planning a heist - a magician envisioning his next illusion.

And me, I’m just rolling around wailing because I cannot believe I have to wait so very long to find out how they resolve this. How do they come back from it?? Because they do, no separation lasts long for them, not in proportion to their impossibly long lives. The Metatron walked in not a moment later and Aziraphale thought it was Crowley again, he was ready to hash it out and mend it that fast. Every potential is there. So how?? And when?? How long will it take for Aziraphale to own his feelings for the only being in all of history that he has ever loved? How will Crowley cope with the only loss he has ever really feared? How will I ever go another day without thinking about them and their loss??

[bluebunnyears-08]

“Man, you just keep on having good ideas! We need to have more interactions between Rusty and Nine.”  < -- Hello!  It’s me again, the really descriptive prompter who keeps asking you to post stuff on “An Archive Of Our Own.”  (You could probably call me “Mr. Archive Guy,” if you want!)

First, I want to say you did an outstanding job with “The Fox And The Robot.”  I loved all your descriptions of Rusty, and the deeper insight into Nine’s head as he was listening to her try and convince him to help her!  Very well done, a truly great read!  

Second: I’ve come up with another one.  In contrast to all my earlier prompts, which delved into some fairly dark territory, I mean for this next one to be much more lighthearted, with some heartwarming bits mixed in.   

I call this one “A Mangey Tale”

So here’s the setup: it’s Episode 6.  Nine has just gotten Sonic into his trans-dimensional spaceship, pulling him away from the battle currently underway between the evil Doctors and the Rebels in New Yoke City.  The ship is flying through Shatterspace, heading towards the Grim.  Nine turns around in midflight, and asks Sonic where he’s been this whole time.  

Now it’s ‘canon’ that in the process of Sonic detailing his adventures in the Boscage Maze, Nine was told about Mangey.  But then I got to thinking: what must that have been *LIKE* for Nine?  To learn all about a ‘variant’ of himself that’s almost completely feral?  

++++++++

So for starters: as soon as Nine gets Sonic to start talking about the Boscage Maze, he becomes TOTALLY invested in telling the story instead of urging Nine to turn the ship around so he can go help the rebels.  

Soon enough, Sonic gets to the part where he first meets the Scavengers.  He basically says, “I met a primitive, tribal version of Knu… er… Renegade Knucks, a primitive, tribal version of Rebel… there was even a primitive, tribal, version of you, Nine…”

And Nine says, “A primitive version of *me,* huh?”  

Then Nine momentarily closes his eyes, and he indulges in the “Imagine Spot” trope.  Although it lasts a quick second in real-time, we’re given a peek straight into Nine’s imagination, where he’s now envisioning an idealized (albeit in a primitive jungle setting) version of himself.

Here, he is basically Senki Ishigama from the manga/anime “Dr. Stone.” Which is to say: a super-scientist, who is also the leader of a primitive tribe.  “Chief Nine” is able to craft all sorts of amazing wonder technology using just twigs, flint, and some coconuts. And although these lunkheaded primitives he leads are decidedly undeserving of it, ‘Chief Nine” has nonetheless deigned to take pity on these slack-jawed jungle dwellers and guide them with his superior intellect and inventive genius.

In the “real world,” Nine opens his eyes and basically says, “This version of me was the chief of the knuckleheaded tribe, right?”  

And Sonic says, “Uh, no.  No he was NOT.”

This is where things start to really get silly.  Sonic’s story completely goes off-track as Nine asks question after question about Mangey… liking absolutely NONE of the answers that the blue hedgehog gives about his Boscage Maze variant.  

He’s appalled to hear that this variant of him walks around on all fours.   Disgusted that he barely talks and mostly communicates in doggish growls. Upset that Mangey attacked Sonic right after Sonic saved his life. Hates that his name IS “Mangey.”   On and on and on!  (You could potentially have a LOT of fun with this, Bluebunnyears!)

With an ever-growing sense of morbid fascination, Nine keeps asking Sonic questions about Mangey, desperate to find some “silver lining” about this jungle-version of him that he can take pride in.  In the end, it culminates in Nine crying out: 

“At least tell me he was HOUSETRAINED!”

And Sonic shrugs his shoulders.  “Well, the Scavengers didn’t exactly HAVE houses in that jungle they lived in…”  

Then Sonic asks Nine if he can finally get back to the story he was trying to tell instead of focusing just on Mangey. Nine (now completely disgusted to be even remotely associated with the jungle boy,) grumpily and sullenly mutters “Yes.”  

So Sonic does.

When Sonic gets to the part about how he showed Mangey how he was capable of flying, and describes the feral boy’s happy laughter as he helicoptered through the air for the very first time… it deeply touches Nine’s heart.  Inwardly, Nine wonders to himself whether Sonic has some kind of genetic predisposition to always do extra-nice things for two-tailed foxes.  

Then Sonic interrupts his own story, to comment, (along the lines of,) “You know, as far as Mangey goes, it really is a shame I didn’t have you along with me on this adventure, Nine.  You probably could’ve taught Mangey a lot!”

“Me?  Teach?”  Nine scoffs.  “I don’t have the patience to be a teacher for normal people, much less for Mangey the Monkey-Fox-Boy!”

“I think that probably just watching you in action might’ve been enough.”

Sonic reaches forward and pats Nine on the back as he says this.

“Seeing how brave and fearless you are when you fight might’ve inspired Mangey to develop more courage. Seeing how smart you are might’ve encouraged him to learn more.  Seeing how helpful you always are to me, how you’ve always got my back… maybe that might’ve gotten him to fight less with his own friends.  At least, I’d like to think so.”  

Hearing all this puts a very warm, fuzzy feeling in Nine’s heart.  He takes a hand off the steering wheel, reaches behind, and pats the hand Sonic’s placed on his shoulder.

“And, hey, I’m really sorry I got separated from you, Nine.  Especially for such a long time.”

“Not your fault, Sonic.”  Nine looks forward, in the direction of his destination: The Grim.  “Soon enough, separation will never be a problem for us again.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll explain in just a little bit.  Why don’t you finish your story first, Sonic?  You sounded like you were almost done.”

So Sonic does.  Our story finishes with Sonic describing his nose touching the green Paradox Shard on Thorn Rose’s hammer. 

++++++

What do you think?

Hello Mr. Archive Guy! I absolutely love this prompt! We need some humor!

Sorry, it took so long, I had a lot of stuff I was busy with so it took me a while to answer requests.

Anyway, here you go, I hope this makes up for it <3

================================================

The Shattership blasted at full speed into the vast space of the Shatterverse. The fox pilot listening to his rambling passenger that was a blue hedgehog. He listened as the hedgehog described his adventures in a jungle universe. There were all sorts of overgrown trees and plants, things Nine became curious about how that would've looked, having never even seen a normal tree or flower before.

Then Sonic told him about other variants.

"That's when I met a primitive, more tribal version of Knuckl-uh Knucks, Rou-Rebel, and there was even a tribal of you Nine!"

"A primal version of me, huh?"

"Yep, and let's just say you were rather...."

Whatever Sonic said next was blocked out due to Nine imagining what it must've been like to be in a primitive world. He was probably the only smart one there. He was the chief of the tribe. He made all sorts of weapons and crafts using just tree bark, flint, and coconuts. He can imagine himself leading a tribe of idiots who couldn't even start a fire on their own, however, he chose to take them under his wing out of pity for how pathetic they were.

He was brought out of his thoughts, cutting off Sonic's rambling with a question that dripped with daydream pride.

"So, I'm guessing this other me was the chief of this knuckleheaded tribe?"

Sonic paused and stared at him with wide disbelieving eyes at the question before he smiled in utter amusement.

"Uh...No, no he was NOT. Were you even listening?"

"I was busy thinking how this other me led those dunderheads through surviving with my superior intellect!", Nine's voice had a slight worry.

"Oh...Oh my gosh!", Nine turned when he heard snickers coming from the other, glaring at the chuckling urchin.

"What?"

That's when Sonic, who was trying not to break down in laughter, began to describe how this other him actually was. Nine was both disgusted and horrified as Sonic went on and on about his other variant. This version of him walked on all fours like a wild beast, spoke in doggish growls, and just acted like a wild animal. He was even more upset when he learned that this other him attacked the hedgehog after he saved him! There was more and more, and Nine found himself APPALLED by this other him. Mangey was named because of how mangey his fur was, he cowered in the face of a threat, WHIMPERED, he even ATE BARK.

"At least tell me he was HOUSETRAINED."

Sonic shrugged.

"Well, they didn't even really HAVE houses."

Nine groaned, slightly out of annoyance at this other him and embarrassment out of even knowing what this other him was like. He was disgusted to even be associated with a mangy animal.

"Hey, can I get back to telling you the story?"

"...Fine.", Nine sulked as Sonic began to continue his tale, cringing when the other him was mentioned. That's when Sonic reached the part of the story, where he showed Mangey how to fly, describing with fondness at the mangey fox's laughter. Something that deeply warmed the kitsune's heart at how Sonic was so unfathomably kind to foxes with two tails.

"You know Nine, it's a shame you weren't there with me. You could've taught Mangey a thing or two!"

"Me? Teach? I don't have the patience or the time to be a teacher for anyone, and I'd rather die than be one to Mangey the Monkey-Fox-Boy!"

"Aw, that's a shame, you two could be friends!"

"I highly doubt it. We're too entirely different people, I don't think it would've done anything if we were anyway."

"I think seeing you in battle would've been more than enough."

Nine slightly flinched when he felt warmth on his shoulder, before relaxing when realizing it was Sonic's hand.

"Seeing how brave and fearless you are when you fight could've inspired him, and maybe seeing what you can do with that big brain of yours maybe could've made him want to learn more on his own. Not to mention, you're always there when I need you, maybe that could've made him fight less with his friends. At least that's what I think."

Nine felt his chest become warm and fuzzy at that kind, proud words spoken by his only friend. He hesitated before moving his hand up to softly pat the hand on his shoulder.

"Nine, I-I'm sorry I got separated from you, especially for such a long time."

Sonic's voice was full of genuine regret for something he didn't mean to do. Nine felt a pit form at how unhappy the hedgehog was, and how much he was blaming himself for leaving when he was sucked into the shard without his control.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault.", his eyes caught the bright purple portal of their soon-to-be home, "Soon enough, separation won't be a problem anymore."

"Huh?"

"I'll explain in a bit, for now, why don't you finish your story."

As the hedgehog concluded his tale, they entered the Grim. Their new home.

[surviveds]

"well, i'm glad you agree," buck mumbles, half-dazed as he studies tommy's smile, gaze landing, as ever, on the dimple of his chin, and he wonders quietly, how did i get so lucky? buck doesn't like to think about how easily none of this could be happening: a simple no from tommy to meet him for coffee, and they wouldn't be here, tommy's smile shining bright like the sun, the mere sight of him enough to transform buck's post-shift exhaustion into something electric pulsing just behind his ribcage, like a second heartbeat reserved only for these moments with him. buck's undoubtedly felt loved before, safe in relationships (even those that ended bittersweet), but there's something about the way tommy looks at him that quiets the typically-unceasing fear that this will inevitably end - maybe it's how patient the man is, so relentlessly understanding, or maybe it's just the way he says buck's name, making evan seem less a burden and something that buck can answer to with pride.

he doesn't like to think about it, but that doesn't mean he doesn't, and every time he does, buck feels another surge of gratitude - and the burning determination to continue to prove himself as worthy of that second chance.

"your secret's safe with me, babe," buck says in a stage-whisper, winking as he does so, enjoying the easy way the pet name rolls from his tongue. he's tried out a dozen, from baby to sweetheart to even darling on occasion (primarily after movie nights, where they've watched some british man that buck doesn't recognize woo an unequally unknown woman with the very same term), but babe's the one that he always seems to default to; and it doesn't seem that tommy minds it. "you know, i remember being confused as hell, showing up to the 118 and there's just this - spread of food. like, all of that?" he waves with his hand, the memory so clear in his mind that buck can visualize it before him, and he grins at the recollection of bobby smiling at him, welcoming him to their family. how precious a thing it is, to be accepted.

it's a feeling he wants to ensure tommy experiences at all times - even now, when buck arches his brow in mock offense, mouth falling open, a scoff scraping along his tongue. "i'll have you know, bobby trusts me implicitly in that kitchen. well - except for when it comes to dessert. and he does yell at me for never putting the knives back properly, allegedly-" buck tilts his head, as if challenging tommy to suggest that bobby's right (and he most likely is; buck's cleanup method is far from effective). "but, i think you'll find, kinard, that i'm almost as good as captain nash. of course, no one will admit to that, but i know the truth." but he accepts the offer - of course he does. anything that means they'll be spending time together. buck acknowledges this by bumping his knee against tommy's, laughing a little breathlessly as he nods eagerly, unable to contain the unconcentrated joy that floods his system at knowing that tommy does want to spend time at the station, with him, his family - because, although for the most part, these parts of his life, of him, have merged seamlessly together, this is the final bridge to close the gap.

and then there's the what if, still lingering. buck's smile falters slightly, expressing softening to something contemplative as he considers tommy's words. and though he tries, he still struggles to envision a version of tommy that isn't this: confident, so certain of himself. it makes his chest ache momentarily, dull and deep, with the briefest twinge of regret that his own discovery had been so simple, in comparison - but he knows that's not what tommy wants from him. he offers instead two fingers gripping at tommy's chin, a ghost of the first touch that had pulled buck into this new life, holding tommy's gaze as buck says, "i wasn't exactly my best self when i first showed up at the 118." would tommy have changed him? ignited the same feelings in him? buck thinks he would've, that it'd only take a singular look to unravel him - but there's little use in the prolonged wondering. not when they have something now, so warm and beautifully real. buck can hold it, him, in his hands - and that's all that really matters.

"i don't know about deserve," buck replies, a soft clicking sounding in his throat as he swallows, "but i'm grateful anyway. that you're here now." his fingers twitch, hand shifting until he's cupping tommy's jaw, thumbing along the soft fuzz of fresh stubble, and it makes his fingers feel like they're on fire in the best way.

tommy's head tilts to the side,  reflecting on his words.  he understands their time together has given buck a certain kind of clarity,   a similar kind that tommy once discovered on his own,   without the help of a man as sweet and gentle as buck,  he wishes that the tommy he was a few years ago would know that someday,  it was all going to turn out okay.   he's more sure of himself now than ever,   left to reminiscence on the days in which he couldn't comprehend the push and pull constantly battling in his mind,  but grateful to have made it out on the other side,  thriving,  amazed by all he closed himself off to for so long.   he's glad to be buck's companion through it all,  but he does wonder if his own presence in his life has helped him more than even tommy realizes,  just as buck's has helped tommy.  

❝  I suppose we have,  ❞   he says,  smiling back at him softly.  he's always tried to give buck the chance to express his feelings,  to discuss whatever it is that's on his mind,  even if it's just exploring these new feelings.   tommy isn't thrown off by it—  not even on their first date,  when it was clear that buck wasn't entirely ready for that step.  it wasn't something he could ever hold against buck;  he just wanted him to go about it on his own time,  forever grateful that he still ended up back in tommy's presence,  asking for another chance,  assuring him that's still what he wanted.   tommy was relieved,  and he still is,  because there was never a doubt in his mind that giving him that chance was going to be good for him.  it still is.

his face lights up at the mention of bobby's family dinners,  something tommy has grown to miss more than he ever could have imagined.   he remembers the first time bobby suggested them,  how it threw tommy off and he wondered how long it could even last.   yet,  they were some of the best times he shared with the crew he was with then,  and it brought them closer together,  all while giving tommy plenty of tips on cooking that he still uses today.  

❝  mm—   ❞   he starts,  taking a deep breath in,  pretending as if he's smelling captain nash's cooking again.  ❝  don't tell howie or hen,  but I think the meals are what I miss most about that place,  ❞    he jokes with a charming grin,  letting out a soft sigh as he thinks it over.   ❝  if you think so—   sure.  I'd like that.  —    does captain nash still supervise you, at least?   ❞   he asks with a soft chuckle,  giving his hand a squeeze to show he's only teasing.   ❝   tell you what,  ❞    he says,  turning his body more towards him again.   ❝  I join the 118 for family dinner one of these days.   and then,  someday,  you and i—    we compare notes.   cook together.   see what the two of us have learned from cap,  ❞   he says,  beaming even brighter now,  because the idea of sharing something intimate like that feels like the perfect kind of date night with someone like buck.

he sits back slightly,  thinking over his words for a long moment,  because it's not a simple answer.  a grin tugs at his lips when buck mentions the 'we' of it all,  and he looks him.   ❝  I don't like to think about my regrets.  sure,  I've thought a lot about what my life would have turned out to be if I stayed.  I like to think I would've gotten to where I am eventually.  before I left,  I was a lot closer to figuring out who I was.  maybe captain nash and the crew there made it feels comfortable enough to get there.  sure,  of course I think about that.  ❞

his shoulders shrug before he goes on.   ❝  but I think I needed something new at the time.   I needed to challenge myself in new ways,  and doing that,  it helped me be the man I am today.   I'm  .  . .    disappointed,  sure,  that I didn't get the chance to see what the 118 became after I left.  but I'm also grateful for the things I've accomplished since.  you're not the only one wondering, though, evan,  ❞   he admits,  his nose crinkling with a smile.  ❝  but,  as much as I'd love more time with you,  I'm afraid I wouldn't have been ready for you then.  I wasn't my best self yet,  and you—   you would've deserved more than that.  ❞   he likes to think he is now, though, and he hopes that he can give buck everything he deserves now.

[misschifuyu]

Teaching Izana, Sanzu and Kazutora how to waltz

characters: izana kurokawa + sanzu haruchiyo + kazutora hanemiya

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Izana

izana had started to realise that you were watching quite a few dancing shows as of late, switching on the tv to watch a new episode even if he was around at your place

you seemed to be enthralled by the flowing dresses that circled the large, ballroom-like stages, and he couldn't help but find your interest quite adorable

of course, he enjoys music; but he's never really considered dancing to it, no matter the genre. he didn't have much time to do so, anyway, so he was more than content to just listen to the tunes instead

this all kind of got thrown out the window, however, when he was greeted by a very giddy version of his partner one afternoon he had decided to come over for a bit

you were rather ecstatic when he appeared at the doorway, turning away from the television screen quickly as soon as you heard him enter

of course, it was one of your beloved dancing shows. he wasn't surprised by that, but rather at the fact that you quickly made him drop whatever he was holding and drag him towards you

with an eager smile on your face, you look up at him as he was placed just in front of you

you clasped his hands with your own, just before the music started on the screen just beside you

"just follow my lead, okay?"

needless to say, his expression was quite taken aback when you stretched out your arm to the side and placed the other on his hip, before stepping forwards

catching him off guard, he took a second to react and place his own hand on you. this was what they did, right?

he'd only catch a few glimpses at the show when you were watching it, but he managed to pick up a few points here and there

he'd struggle at first, but if you continued to drag him to the music, he will eventually get the hang of it

he knew he wasn't exactly a professional at this, but he could see how much joy it was bringing you to just pretend like the two of you were performing before the vast crowds, in stunning outfits, to the calm music

and that was more than enough for him to continue on with the sort of 'dance' the two of you were in

when you finished at called it a day, he would suggest that you take dance classes if you liked to do this so much

unfortunately, he didn't have enough time to be able to accompany you, but that didn't mean you couldn't pursue your little dream

Sanzu

"what the hell are you doing?"

frozen in place, you had been caught on the spot when sanzu found you dancing to some fancy music in your room

your boyfriend had told you that he would drop by at some point during late afternoon. however, you hadn't expected him to show up so soon and without even knocking on your front door

he isn't someone who always follows decent etiquette, to say the least

as he stood at the doorway of your bedroom, you scurried over to your computer to switch off the music, embarrassed at being caught dancing by yourself

especially since your arms had been up as though you had a partner following along with you to the slow melody

ironic, since the real one was right before you now

"um...actually, what are you doing here? you didn't even tell me you were on your way, sanzu!"

an amused laugh came from the one that was now making his way into your room, settling down on to your bed as though he owned the place

truthfully, he was more than just familiar with that bed by now, so it wasn't much of a surprise

"figured it would be funnier to sneak up on you. what I didn't expect, though, was to find you waltzing around like a princess"

shooting him a stubborn glare as you were about to close the window which had been playing the music just seconds ago

you were stopped, however, as the pink-haired individual spoke up once more

"hold it! I never said you were bad at it...it looked kinda fun, actually. you should teach me how to do all of that, you know"

not fully believing his words, you irked an eyebrow at him. as a test to see if he'd actually go along with it, you extended your arm out to him

surprisingly, he stood up and took it, bringing himself closer to you

when you'd resume the music, you'd actually find that sanzu was quite skilled when it came to moving at the right time with you

of course, he stepped on your foot a few times here and there, but in general, it seemed that he wasn't too bad at it either

he enjoyed watching you so close to him, a sweet smile to your expression as you swayed with him as though the two of you were in an actual ballroom

it goes without saying that you'd question his skills once you were done; he'd simply brush it off as pure talent, but you were sure there was something more to just that...

Kazutora

it would be a movie afternoon for the two of you when you came across one of your favourite studio ghibli movies, howl's moving castle

surprisingly, kazutora had never seen it before; as a result, you took not a single second more to select the film and make sure he'd pay attention the whole way through

how has someone not seen one of the most beautiful movies known to man? you hadn't the slightest clue, but you were to make sure that you had a boyfriend who knew about the wonders of said film

whenever the main soundtrack of the movie played, kazutora would notice how you'd start to sway to the music. admittedly, the story was looking to be quite interesting, but he couldn't help but realise that what you most enjoyed was the waltzing melody

as the ending scene concluded the almost two hours of screen time, you looked over beside you to try and catch the final reaction of the one sat beside you, eager to know what he thought of it

as 'promise of the world' played out in the background, you couldn't stop yourself from swaying just a little, as you had done before

"so...?"

turning to you with a smile, kazutora gave you an impressed nod. heart swelling with happiness, you took ahold of his hand, just before standing up and bringing him with you

you had always wanted to do this. after every single rewatch of the movie, you would envision dancing to the music with someone. it would be like a perfect reenactment of what you felt whenever you'd listen to the melodies throughout the movie

almost instinctively, you managed to snake your hands around him, bringing one of the out beside the two of you as you grasped onto his hand

although he hadn't actually expected you to get up and dance right away, his smile didn't falter. he found it so amusing to see you try your best and lead him to the music; of course, he gave it his all too, but he was no expert

moving to the calming music, it was almost cinematic - in your eyes, at least

sure, you accidentally stepped on his foot a few times, but he'd brush it off as nothing each time

besides, he really didn't feel much pain as he watched your gleeful expression, looking up at him with what could only be described as a loving gaze

he wished he would have all the time in the world to always spend little moments like this with you

[harrywritingsbyme]

Hi would you mind writing a short lil something about Harry and Reader turning bubs‘ room into a big boy room and getting kind of emotional getting rid/storing away all his baby stuff? That last ask was so cute 🥺

Growing Up

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: So I just wanted to write something. So I wrote some dad!Harry fluff for y’all bc this concept was too cute and I just loved it so much. It’s just a little blurb, that kinda gives me a head cannon type of vibe for some reason...so I hope it doesn’t suck lmao! enjoy🥺🥰

Your little boy was growing up so fast. It was almost as if you had blinked and the time just passed you both by. You and Harry could vividly remember the day you two found out that you were expecting, when bubs was just a tiny bean in your stomach. The both of you were beyond happy in that moment. You were gleefully jumping around the bedroom and you two let the joy filled tears from the amazing news flow from your eyes as you celebrated this monumental moment in you guys’ family and life together. 

Over the course of the nine or so months following that day, you and Harry happily watched as your baby boy (and you for that matter) grew. You and Harry got to see your baby at your scheduled ultrasounds and you watched him transform from a little dot on the screen to a fully formed baby with ten fingers and toes along with a miniature version of Harry’s nose. The two of you felt bubs growing too. When you felt yourself getting bigger, your son was getting bigger as well. Along with the increase in the amount of weight forming in your midsection, you could feel your son moving around too. As you became farther along in your pregnancy, you could feel your baby boy moving around in your stomach more and more. There were so many times where bubs would move around and kick you, to which you’d let out a sharp wince and Harry would softly yet “sternly” reprimand his son letting him know that it wasn’t nice to kick his mommy. But even though you could definitely go without a swift kick to your ribs, you couldn’t stop the little smile from spreading across your face once you got over the initial pain of it all. You were so happy to feel that your baby boy was growing and healthy, and you were beyond excited to see him. 

Along with a couple of very memorable days throughout your pregnancy, and the day you found out that you were expecting, the day you finally gave birth was definitely a day that would always remain clear at the forefront of you and Harry’s minds. After an epidural(that was hardly effective in your opinion), hours upon hours of being in labor, a lot of tears, and some strong screams at Harry, the two of you finally welcomed your baby boy into the world. He was absolutely perfect and everything you and Harry had envisioned. Even though he was much bigger than the tiny dot on the screen at the very early stage of your pregnancy, he was still incredibly tiny. Especially when he was in Harry’s arms. The two of you soaked up every moment with your baby boy and neither of you wanted him to grow up and not be the little baby that fit perfectly in your arms. Even when he kept the two of you up at night and into the wee hours of the morning, you and Harry never wanted him to grow up.

But that’s exactly what he did. Again, it was like the two of you blinked and the time just blew right past you both. One moment he was the tiny little human that found his home in your belly and then in your arms. And the next he was a two and a half year old carbon copy of Harry with a sprinkle of you in the mix that had a big and amazing personality of his own. He was without a doubt you and Harry’s favorite person in the world and there weren’t enough words in the world to describe how much love you two had for that little boy. But even though this was the case, you and Harry couldn’t help but miss that little baby you brought home two and a half years ago.

And since he was no longer a baby anymore, it was time for bubs to get his first big boy room. 

He’d already outgrown so many of the clothes you and Harry had gotten him along with the toys he had. The last thing on the outgrown list was the crib. And once that was finally crossed off the list, it meant that he’d finally outgrown everything. Which meant that it was time to give him a room that best suited him and his growth along with his interests. You and Harry noticed that bubs had taken a great interest in dinosaurs. From the toys he wanted and played with to the books he wanted to read to his favorite pajamas, everything was dinosaurs. So that’s what you and Harry decided to play off of when building your sons new room. The two of you wanted to create a dinosaur oasis for him and you wanted it to be everything that the toddler could possibly want. For almost four months you and Harry bought all of the furniture and decor that fit perfectly into the dinosaur theme the two of you had envisioned. And as it all came in, the two of you were able to perfectly and seamlessly put the room together. Every once in a while having a little hiccup in the process like not centering a nail on the wall or something, but nothing major. 

Now while you and Harry were loving the project and enjoyed doing this for your son, it was still a really hard process for you both. Particularly for Harry though. As the two of you got closer to being done with the new room, you and Harry began packing up bubs’ baby clothes and things that he grew out of so that you could donate them and make space for the new things you two had gotten for him. As you two packed though, Harry was incredibly sad. While he loved his little man who ran around and was just full of life and energy, he missed his little baby. He couldn’t pick him up and have him all snug and tucked into his arms the same way he used to. Bubs was bigger and all of that was sinking in now as Harry packed up all of the small clothes and toys. With everything that was placed into the container, a little coo or memory left Harry’s mouth. He couldn’t stop himself from getting a little emotional at the fact that his baby was now a big boy. The both of you were incredibly sad that he was growing up so fast. 

And even though it was an incredibly sad thing to think about, what made both you and Harry happy about it all was the big smile and shouts of amazement that came from your son once you two revealed the room to him. He was absolutely in love with his new big boy bed and all of the dinosaur pictures and decor on the walls, and the toys, and the dinosaur nightlight you two had gotten for him. He ran around the room looking at everything and taking it all in and just loving what his mommy and daddy put together for him. He couldn’t stop saying the cutest little thank you’s which only melted you and Harry even more. Seeing bubs so happy made you and Harry beyond happy and it made the whole growing up thing a bit easier. 

After showing some of the things he couldn’t immediately see in his new room and playing with him a bit, you and Harry decided to step out and let bubs enjoy his new room for a little bit while you two continued with cleaning out his old room. The two of you gave the little boy a ton of squeezes and kisses before leaving him alone with his toys and getting back to packing all the baby stuff up. You and Harry had a set up on the floor so the two of you got back down there and went back to folding and looking through things. After a little while though, Harry couldn’t do it anymore. He was too overcome with the fact that his baby boy was getting bigger and now had his first big boy room. All of it was just too much for him. Keeping the little clothing item in his hand, Harry turns himself around and lays down on the floor, resting his head in your lap and causing you to turn your attention onto him. 

“What’s going on babe?” You ask, finishing up the fold on the item in your hands before giving him your full attention. 

“M’sad” Harry mumbles with a big pout spread across his face. 

“Why baby?” You coo, bringing one of your hands to the side of his face and the other to his hair. 

“Because! Our baby isn’t a baby anymore.” Harry whines dramatically. 

“It’s not like he’s 30 or something with a wife and kid of his own...you are.” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Y/n!” He whines. 

“Okay fine! I hate it when you’re all mopey and sad, so don’t be. I’m sad too, but it’ll be okay. No matter how big he gets, he’ll always be our baby.”

“I know, I just can’t stop thinking about how small he was when we brought him home and how he really needed us. Now he’s this little person who isn’t as small and who is starting to not need us. He’s his own little person.” He explains. 

“Well he is his own little person. But he’s only two and a half, so he’ll be needing us for a good while Harry.” You reassure him with a little laugh, trying your best to comfort your very emotional husband. “What will make you feel better? What’s gonna make my baby feel better?” You coo, softly pinching his cheek in the process. 

“Make another baby?” He proposes, turning is head up towards you. 

“You know that takes both of us right?” You ask sarcastically, trying your hardest to not roll your eyes at him. 

“If I’m not mistaken, I remember you being a big fan of the baby making process.” He reminds you smugly. 

“Maybe.”

“See! Plus we’ve talked about it a couple times, so it’s the perfect time.” He says happily in your lap. “If we put bubs down for his nap now, we can have our second bubby cooking in there by dinner.” He says optimistically, bringing a hand up to your currently empty stomach. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works Harry.” You deadpan, trying to hold back your laughs from how happy and cute he was in this moment. 

“Who cares?! It never hurts to try!!” Harry continues on. “Are you in?” He asks hopefully. 

“Let’s make another baby then.” You giggle, giving in to the idea. From the outside looking in, it may have looked like a bit of a spur of the moment thing. But in actuality, you were already thinking of possibly adding another member to the Styles family. You too were sad at the idea of your little boy growing up. And on top of that, you wanted him to have a sibling and someone to play with. So it all kind of worked out. Bubs was going to be turning three soon and you and Harry were really thinking and talking about another baby so it was perfect. You just hoped that you wouldn’t be popping out another baby as each of the other kids were growing up. You were kind of crossing your fingers that going forward a big boy bed didn’t come with the quest of having another baby. 

Maybe after baby number two harry wouldn’t be so sad about growing up. 

Masterlist

[retrogradedreaming]

UHHHH maybe,, you could write a little thing for reki making the sk8 fam tea? and kaoru thinking hes gonna have to pretend he likes it but then "oh wait reki can actually make tea what-"

just bc this has been living in my head for awhile sdkljfs

(capt-snoozles)

It turns out I am completely incapable of writing ANYTHING short, so have a full one shot type thing, I guess. I hope it's okay that I kinda borrowed headcanons from you and @that-was-anticlimactic for Reki with TS at a couple of small moments in the fic?

----

It used to be Kaoru alone who visited Kojiro’s restaurant when it was closed on Mondays. But since the start of winter break, Sia la Luce had become much livelier now that Reki, Langa, and Miya weren’t in school all day, and Shadow came when his days off lined up right. If Kaoru were being honest, it took some time to get used to the space no longer being only his and Kojiro’s, but he’d grown to like how their group came together like this.

The afternoons were the quietest part of these days. Kojiro took these opportunities to try out new recipes on them, leaving everyone contentedly full and pleasantly sleepy. Today, Langa had actually fallen asleep in the booth, and Reki sat beside Kaoru at the counter, playing with a tiny skateboard and making soft sounds like a small motor. Shadow and Miya sat at a table across the room, arguing over whether clown or cat makeup looked cooler while Kojiro finished cleaning. Kaoru let himself sink into the lull, Reki’s noises and that of the skateboard wheels on the counter an almost comforting presence beside him. And yet, one thing was missing, keeping him from truly relaxing.

“Seems like a good afternoon for tea,” Kojiro said, as if reading his mind as he appeared out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “You want me to make some?”

“Absolutely not,” Kaoru scoffed. “People who microwave their tea should be arrested.”

“There’s no way you can tell the difference,” Kojiro said, defensive. “Hot water is hot water.”

“Only an uncultured pig would believe that,” Kaoru snapped. He was about to stand, to tell Kojiro he’d make the tea himself like he always inevitably had to, when Reki all but leaped from his seat, skateboard abandoned for the moment.

“I’ll make it!” he offered, and the way his face lit up meant that Kaoru took too long to say not to bother. By the time he’d found his words, Reki had already bounded around the counter and into the kitchen, and Kojiro didn’t even try to stop him. Before Kaoru could tell Kojiro to stop him, Reki called out to Kojiro, asking about the industrial stove, and soon, Kojiro was not only allowing Reki to make the tea, but encouraging him.

Kaoru supposed this was a step up from Kojiro’s microwave technique, but if Kaoru were likely to trust anyone other than himself to make a decent cup of tea, it wouldn’t be Reki. The idea that he’d wanted his tea made well and was unlikely to receive it as such set him on edge. As he listened to the water boil and the conversation continued around him, he found himself wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger and tugging, letting it go, and repeating the process until his scalp hurt. He didn’t even notice that Langa had woken up until he appeared beside Kaoru and spoke.

“What’s Reki doing?” he asked.

“Making tea,” Kaoru said, doing his best not to appear so anxious about something so small.

Langa peered over the edge of the counter to where Kojiro and Reki were talking in the kitchen, and then turned back to Kaoru. “I like how he makes it. I never liked it before I met him.”

Kaoru hummed a halfhearted response. He doubted that Langa’s standards were very high, given that he’d grown up in Canada. He’d likely had tea often enough, given that his mother was Japanese, but Kaoru knew from experience that plenty of people even here in Okinawa had no idea how to brew a proper cup. It was about timing, knowing how hot to make the water, how long to steep the leaves, and so many people rushed the process—or worse, forgot about it and steeped too long—that Kaoru preferred to make his own.

He couldn’t help but envision Reki handing him a bitter cup, or one that tasted like little more than hot leaf juice. He grimaced at the idea of having to drink it and pretend he liked it, suffering all the while. He would have to wait until he was home later to make something better for himself.

He was still trying to think of a polite way to decline the tea he’d obviously wanted when Reki came out bearing a tray of steaming cups and began making the rounds through the restaurant. Reki handed the first one to Langa, who accepted it, smiling softly up at Reki. Langa sipped the tea immediately, only to flinch and draw it away after the first sip.

Not promising, Kaoru thought. If he’d boiled the water, it was ruined, even if it was something as simple as green tea. And yet, Langa only took another sip while Reki looked on approvingly.

“It’s good,” Langa finally proclaimed, and Reki glowed as if he’d received praise from the emperor himself. Reki moved on, handing Kaoru his cup.

“Thank you,” Kaoru said, accepting it with both hands. Fortunately, Reki moved on to Shadow and Miya without waiting for Kaoru to try it, which meant that he didn’t know Kaoru only held onto it without making a move to taste it. If nothing else, he could enjoy the warmth that crawled from his fingertips all the way to his elbows.

Neither Miya nor Shadow hesitated in drinking theirs, though Kaoru couldn’t imagine they cared much how it tasted, as long as it was hot. And yet, as he watched, the two of them looked just as pleased as Langa when they tried it.

“Oh wow, the slime makes good tea,” Miya pronounced, hugging the cup close to him like a space heater.

“Damn, this is pretty good,” Shadow said, drinking deeply and draining half the cup. “How’d you even learn to make it like this?”

Reki shrugged, taking up his own cup, the last on the tray. He set the tray down on the counter and took the empty seat beside Langa. “I dunno, I guess I just picked it up over the years. It’s kinda like making skateboards, y’know? You have to figure out how all the parts fit together, and if you do it wrong, the tea doesn’t taste right.”

Kaoru looked up at him from the murky depths of his tea, brows raised. When it came to making tea, the analogy was rather profound, and Kaoru couldn’t argue it. Reki was right—tea was about the sum of its parts, the pieces fitting together perfectly. And as with building skateboards, the person making it had to know exactly how to combine each piece to create the whole.

“That doesn’t make any sense, but whatever,” Shadow said, taking another sip. “All I care about is that it doesn’t suck.”

“How come you’ve never made us tea before?” Miya asked, eyes trained on the Switch he’d pulled from his pocket now that he’d abandoned his conversation with Shadow.

“I don’t really have the patience for it,” Reki said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s kinda like, if I don’t wanna put in the time to do it right, why bother?”

While everyone was wrapped up in conversation, Kaoru finally chanced a discreet sip. If it was as bad as he��d expected, he could school his expression appropriately while they were all distracted. Perhaps he could even get away without having to lie about how good it was. And yet, when the tea touched his tongue, he paused.

It wasn’t too hot.

It wasn’t too weak or too strong.

It wasn’t too bitter and the leaves didn’t taste as though they’d been burnt.

It was, as far as Kaoru was concerned, some of the best tea he’d had outside his own home. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words to say so. He sipped it again, just to make sure he hadn’t deluded himself based on everyone else’s praise. Sure enough, it was almost more delicious the second time.

“You surprised?” Kojiro murmured at his ear, his own cup dangling from his fingertips. Kaoru jumped, nearly spilling his tea. When he turned to face him, Kojiro’s lips quirked in a smug grin, and he raised one brow meaningfully. Kaoru shot him a hard glower in return, a silent command to keep his mouth shut before Kaoru turned back to Reki.

“It’s delicious,” Kaoru said, and it wasn’t forced in the least. “I’m impressed.”

Reki, who had already immersed himself in talking to Langa, gaped at Kaoru, one of his hoodie strings falling from between his teeth. Then, he flashed a wide grin. “Glad you like it!”

“Have you ever practiced tea ceremony?” Kaoru asked, reluctantly setting his tea down on the counter.

“Nah, my parents let me try it once when I was younger, but I kept messing up the steps,” Reki said. “It’s not really fun when people get mad at you for doing it wrong.”

“I studied it for some time,” Kaoru said, remembering how the order felt comforting, how the amount of concentration it required gave his anxious mind something to focus on, how the simple yet refined aesthetic felt like clearing his head. In recent years, he didn’t have time for it with his calligraphy business, but a part of him missed it. “It’s quite a bit different from drinking tea like this, but if you wanted to, perhaps we could do a...modified version of it. Something less formal with everyone here.”

Reki’s eyes brightened, and he looked to Langa, who only seemed to share his enthusiasm. “It sounds fun, yeah! A lot better than getting yelled at by a bunch of old people because ‘tradition.’”

“I’d say so,” Kaoru said, and they devolved into talking about their favorite teas and the best ways to brew them. Kaoru couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to someone who actually understood that tea was an art even more than it was a drink. But Reki did, and when the rest of the group finally left, leaving Kaoru and Kojiro alone in the restaurant to clean up, Kojiro nudged him with an elbow.

“You didn’t think Reki could make tea like that, did you?” he said, the words teasing but too close to Kaoru’s own thoughts for comfort.

“Shut up or I’ll leave you here to wash dishes alone,” Kaoru quipped, even as he accepted the next cup to dry. “I will admit, I was pleasantly surprised.”

“I knew you would be,” Kojiro said as he dried his hands and stretched.

“Anything is better than microwaved tea,” Kaoru said. And although it was true, he couldn’t help but look forward to the next Monday, and the last before the kids started school again.

[musingmemories]

@5ofhearts-chris

The fairytale version of their story has Chelsea's gaze to soften. It was open and vague enough to be left to interpretation. "That's actually believable." Not a trace of a joke in the words, sincerity filled. Or maybe it's more disappointment they didn't meet so organically. If in another life, maybe their fabricated story was a reality and Chris actually was the soulmate she'd been searching for. "I guess the real story of how we met isn't exactly romantic. Chasing a poor, innocent woman down for her most prized possession that was equivalent to her heart." She teased. Not as though she'd wanted him to be after her heart...at first. But somewhere along the way, Chelsea's feelings had changed, weighing on her soul like the tide. Because when she thought of Chris, she thought of the man beneath the mask, the one that had surely been there for their kiss. Or that was just wishful thinking.

Wishful thinking that still prompted her to look for signs, traces of the real Chris in his actions, expressions with each word, and in the silence. It was why some of her words were deliberate, actions purposeful, attempts to get a rise out of him enough to show how he truly felt. And if Chris did...Chelsea might believe him. He knew, didn't he? That Chelsea didn't need the new and exciting from her soulmate. That all she needed was to hear something akin to I would have you all by myself. Had Chris really just said that? A single thought isn't able to process itself as the words land, swearing her entire chest is now flushed without anywhere to run.

And just as effortless as the smooth words are told the tension shifts and it's an energy Chelsea can shield herself with to completely mask her flustered reaction. ...slightly more irritated than before, and a little hurt, which showed through an upturned nose and a huff. "By all means, use me. I don't mind using the art of distraction, as you know." Each and every time she'd slipped out of Chris' fingers during his mission to retrieve her card. "Maybe I'll steal your idea and use you as bait to get the card myself? High Card would hire me on the spot." No, Chelsea didn't have any desire to be part of High Card, necessarily. Yet.

Wasn't going to be much of a future opportunity if they didn't get to the party. As though on cue, Chris was directly beside her, his voice nearer than expected and Chelsea felt herself freeze slightly as he leaned in, his touch skimming her skin in a gentle brush. All in a matter of seconds. Get a grip, Chels. But her jaw almost dropped at the dress Chris presented to her, exactly what she'd envisioned when she'd thought about it in the car. "It's perfect~" Chelsea was practically floating as she followed Chris' lead, snagging a pair of heels on their way to the changing room, heart pounding when she was finally alone. Was this real? A dream she'd wake up from? Hopefully not anytime soon.

The dress fit perfectly, not an adjustment to be made, paired flawlessly with the jewelry Chris had picked out and heels she'd grabbed last minute. But there was something leaving her wondering if she looked perfect, weighing on whether or not to let her hair down or keep her pigtails as she stepped out. Only one way to find out. "Well~?" Chelsea announced with a hand on her hip and an expectant look that wasn't without carnation pink cheeks and a fluttering stomach with held breath. For dramatic effect, and to spare herself from anxiously staring at him, Chelsea does a slow twirl.

@musingmemories

Chris hadn't forgiven Leo for bringing in Chelsea. The little boss sure could be pushy... pretty much all the time. But what's done was done. He promised himself to keep Chelsea out of harm's way, no matter what. She didn't belong to their dangerous world. This was a one-time job and after he kept her safe, she would have nothing to do with High Card anymore, he would make sure of that. He didn't want to lose her.

When she pushed the Fudgees bar into his hand, he took it and laughed heartily. He loved her attempt at masking her embarrassment and decided to soothe the waters a bit by reassuring, "Of course you weren't, darling. I like it anyways~" He smiled his disarming smile and took a bite from his bar, this time from his own hand.

"For power? Oh, Chelsea, darling, apple of my eye, how could you say that?" He acted overly apalled. "It was love at first sight, when I first got to meet and work with you while I was leading a very important company project. We spent a lot of time together, valued and respected each other's opinions, got closer... and the rest is history, as they say." His heart fluttered weirdly when he mentioned the getting closer part of his made-up story, so he wrapped it up quickly. It would be nice though, wouldn't it be?

When she suggested someone stealing her away, he tensed slightly and forced himself to relax again. Yes, that thought bothered him a lot and he wouldn't like it at all and no, he should not show her, because he needed to keep his distance - for his sake and for hers.

So he playfully bit on his lip and said, "Oh~ maybe we should keep that our little secret after all? Then I will be the only one giving you something new and exciting whenever you so desire, darling~ and I would have you all by myself..." He was flirting excessively to get a reaction out of her and wished for it to be true at the same time, even though it was never meant to be. "On the other hand, won't they be perfectly distracted while offering you excitement and I would actually be able to retrieve the card? Maybe I should just let them?" he added with a teasing shrug to distract from his secret desire to actually be able to call her his and give her the world if he could. He would never let anyone steal her away from him at this party.

He smiled softly, when her eyes widened at his offer. He got a bit wary though, when that coy smile of hers appeared. "I know what?"

When she daringly quirked her eyebrow at him, he found her somehow irresistible and followed her every move with his gaze, before indulging her by joining her at the racks.

"Mh yes, that would definitely be a lovely choice," he agreed honestly when she held up the sparkling dress. Then he leaned closer to her to reach over her shoulder, accidentally brushing her skin with his hand in the process. He only froze for a second at the warm touch, before he pulled out the bond-girl dress behind her. "How about a more elegant and eye-catching garment, my lady?" He didn't stop there but also equipped her with some fitting and expensive looking jewelry that they picked up on the way to the changing room. While he waited, he filled his stomach up with a lot more sugar and checked his watch again. They needed to get going soon. Maybe he should change here too.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Idk if youre taking requests, but if you are could we have some Ren and Martyn fluff/angst content? The finale was amazing, and the fact that they'd died side by side and within seconds of each other just feels so bittersweet... maybe they meet up again in the afterlife like Scott and Jimmy did to live happily ever after ;w;

bruh i think you read my mind cuz i was already starting to write something similar when you sent this ask LOL

...

Ren sits bolt upright with a gasp, his hand automatically flying to his chest. But the arrow that ended his life is no longer there. His skin is back to its normal colour, his eyes no longer heavy with the weight of responsibility. He’s back in his normal clothes.

The Red King is gone.

He finds himself in a blank world, a ghostly world. This must be the afterlife; he can see several people he recognises a short distance away.

But before he can start to get up, he hears another gasp in a familiar voice and turns sharply to find Martyn sitting up next to him, dazed and anxious.

“Martyn!” Ren gasps.

Martyn stares at him in dismay. “I’m sorry, Boss! I tried to avenge you but Scar just cut me down, I didn’t stand a chance. I’m so sorry I let you do-.”

Ren wordlessly pulls Martyn into a tight hug, cutting him off. Initially startled, Martyn quickly hugs him back.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmurs. “And call me Ren now. Please.”

Martyn squeezes his eyes shut, releasing a few pent-up tears. “I should’ve been able to save you, Ren. I’m sorry.”

“No no no, you did amazing," Ren reassures him. "I’m so proud of you, Martyn; you stayed with me ‘til the very end. You’ve no idea how much that means to me. Thank you.”

“Guys!” comes a yell. “Ren! Martyn!”

The two move apart to find Skizz rushing towards them, a wide grin on his face.

“Skizzle!” Ren calls happily.

Skizz jumps at the two of them and grabs both of them in a hug, one arm wrapped around Ren’s shoulders and the other around Martyn’s.

“I missed you guys so much!” Skizz beams. “What happened? How’d we do?”

“Scar took down both of us within half a minute of each other,” responds Martyn sadly. “BigB is the only one left.”

“Aww… Hey, at least we're together again. C’mere.”

He pulls them into a tighter hug, causing both of them to laugh.

Then Ren happens to glance up and spot someone else standing nearby, watching them with a hopeful look.

“Etho, get in here,” he laughs.

Beaming, Etho joins the group hug.

“Sorry we didn’t win, boss,” says Martyn with a quiet chuckle.

“Hey, we’re all back together again and none of us betrayed the others to win,” Ren responds warmly. “In my book, we did win.”

Martyn laughs. “That’s such a cliché.”

Ren grins back at him. “I know, but it’s the truth for me. I love you guys so much; thank you for sticking with me to the end. It means more than I can possibly express.”

“Aww!” Skizz beams. “I love you guys too. Hey, are you gonna go through that archway thingy?”

Ren glances at him in confusion, mostly due to the sudden change of subject. “What?”

Skizz points over Ren’s shoulder to a glowing door set into the edge of the world. “That thing. Jimmy went through it not long after I arrived here and Scott went through it almost immediately when we told him where Jimmy went. Apparently, it’s some kind of door to the afterlife.”

“Afterlife?” repeats Martyn. “What, like heaven? I thought we were supposed to go back to our normal worlds once everyone’s died.”

“I think that’s more of a choice. I guess most of the Hermits are gonna choose to go back to Hermitcraft but if you don’t wanna do that yet, you can go through the door and get yourself an afterlife.”

“Huh.” Ren frowns at the door. “That’s really… intriguing.”

Martyn watches him steadily. “Are you thinking of going through?”

“Honestly, yeah. I’d love to know what the afterlife would look like for me.”

He gets to his feet and walks over to the doorway, lifting his hand as if wanting to touch the shimmery space in between.

After a moment, he turns back to face his friends and gives them a smile. “See you later, guys.”

Before any of them can reply, Ren steps through the door.

A blinding light surrounds him for a few seconds. When it finally dies down, Ren finds himself back in Dogwarts.

Except it’s not quite Dogwarts. At least, not the one he knows.

It looks exactly how Ren always envisioned it looking, how he wanted it to look someday but ran out of time. The walls stand tall and firm, and the Renchanting building is a proper castle, complete with a large version of the Dogwarts flag flying proudly above it. Sprawling out from the castle are the farms: carrots, wheat, and potatoes, complete with a detailed-looking scarecrow. And finally, the altar stands in the middle of Dogwarts, majestic and proud.

This is Dogwarts.

And yet, something feels odd. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but something doesn’t quite feel right. There’s something… missing.

“Ren?”

Ren turns to find Martyn standing on the altar. “Martyn? What are you doing here?”

“I came through the door,” Martyn replies, stepping off the altar. “I wanted to come to the afterlife with you.”

“Really?” Ren stares at him. “You don’t want to go home?”

“Wherever you are is where my home is,” responds Martyn with a smile.

“Now who’s being cliché?” Ren teases.

Martyn laughs. “I know, I know. But honestly, when I walked through that door, this is exactly what I pictured as my destination. My guess is the door reads your deepest desire and gives it to you as your afterlife.”

“Which means you and I both wanted the same thing: to live together in Dogwarts.”

“Seems like it.” Martyn smiles. “So. This is it, isn’t it?”

Ren smiles back. He’s figured out what was missing, and it’s definitely not missing anymore.

“This is home.”

[inforapound]

The Devil Inside  -  Part 5

Thanks for reading. I’m going with a couple of shorter chapters instead of one long finale. Hope you like it. 

Pairing - Ivar and reader       

Warnings - dark Ivar, explicit smut, bad relationship, toxic love 

By the following night without a word from Ivar, not a single call or text, and no sign of the black Camaro, you were no longer laughing. It felt like your world had collapsed to the ground. And, that alone was confusing as he was the one who had been such a prick. Right? Hadn’t he? Still, it was impossible to escape the feeling of guilt and some hard-to-define panic.

Your Ivar! Your beautiful, intense, complicated Ivar; his only fault being how much he loved you.

Was it actually over, you wondered for the zillionth time? Could the two of you work it out or would you never speak again? Would he ghost you? Ah yes, that was the fear creating the panic; you were worried he would write you off as though you had never existed. Just that idea, despite his display of rage, made your blood run cold and your heart straight-up rejected the notion that you were better off without him.

After months of the two of you cocooning away and blowing off the world, you were grateful, grateful, that your two best friends had your back. One look at your pale, despondent face the previous day, walking into class, and they flew into BBF mode.

God, they were great but you questioned their thinking. How would going out, within 24 hours of your love story ending, possibly help you?

But… there you sat in your room wearing a one-shouldered purple dress and strappy heels while Amanda carefully lined your lips and Kim flat ironed your hair. They yattered away as if to distract you, talking about what an asshole Ivar was, a complete psycho, and thank god you hadn’t slept with him. Eeeek, all that solidarity, and you had given them a watered-down version of what had happened during the fight.

Barely taking in their words, you thought over and over all that had been said in his car, questioning if it had truly been that bad. It felt awful at the time, but things seemed different after such a long time without hearing from him. Did it mean you had forgiven him? Definitely not but you still felt like a balloon bouncing in the wind without your Ivar.

Under it all, he just needed you and the thought of you with another guy was more than he could process. How can that be a bad thing? And it had been you, YOU, who desecrated his most treasured possession, his beloved mother’s necklace, a necklace he had imparted so lovingly. Wasn’t your behaviour as bad or even worse? Could he forgive you?

Tears rose in your eyes making the girls stop and stare, looking like a pair of barn owls.

“Oh babe,” Kim whispered squeezing your shoulder and Amanda leaned in, looking as if she was pitying a dog.

“Tonight is exactly what you need,” she nodded. “The dance will take your mind off of everything. Trust me.”

WELL, THAT WAS A FUCKING LIE.

The school gymnasium was dark and stuffy, the music pounding and the strobes seemed to flash all the way into your brain. It was the last place you needed to be! God! Every guy wearing a leather jacket made you do a double-take and Ivar’s absence screamed louder than the noise. Just twenty feet away your friends were dancing and yet you had never felt so alone. That must have been how Ivar felt, that day on the road, watching you run away from him. Your poor, love….. Where was he?

“Is it really you? Are you honestly here?” asked Mark Hasting as he, all-of-sudden, appeared at your side, reeking of weed and smiling one of his squinty-eyed smiles. “Mr. Lothbrok let you out of his grasp for a night. I almost don’t believe it.”

Not a word came out of your mouth and you looked from Mark back to the dance floor unable to tell him that the two of you had broken up. And….. that it was all your fault. Instead of easing Ivar’s fears, you had doused gasoline on his pain. Should you tell Mark that? What a horrible person you were? Oh god, what had you done?

Taking a deep breath, a gasp really, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Mark?” you cried out and it turned into a sob.

“Yea, heeey, what’s wrong?” he scrunched his forehead with concern and stepped closer.

“Can you give me a lift home? I can’t be here right now.”

----

Waving your thanks to Mark, you watched him reverse out of the driveway and closed the front door. Not taking the time to remove your coat or turn on the lights, you riffled through your purse looking for your phone. You had to find Ivar.

Would you call or text? Call! Yes, calling would be better and if he didn’t answer, you’d go straight over to his house. Oh god, that was a nerve-wracking thought, driving over and just walking in. What if he wasn’t alone...what if some chic was there? Your mind began to spin as your insecurities played tricks despite knowing, in your heart-of-hearts, how unlikely that was.

Bringing his number up on our phone, you headed through your dark kitchen toward your room, your ears still humming from the music at the dance. Staring at his number, you slowed to a stop and leaned against the hallway wall, sliding down to sit on the carpet. It was time.... and it felt scary as you had no idea where to start and Ivar was not a guy to make things easy. It was no stretch of the imagination to envision him picking up and not saying a word, just listening on the other end as you stuttered on. Regardless, there were things that needed to be said and for your part in the horrible mess, you wouldn’t keep score. Honestly, how could any girl keep score who dated Ivar Lothbrok?

Deep breath in, you steadied your nerves and hit dial, your ear pressed to the phone as it began to ring. Waiting, listening, holding your breath, you didn’t at first hear the faint buzzing sound. It was when you lowered the phone that it captured your attention. Ending the call, you sat straining to identify it but all was quiet in the house; the sound was gone. Tapping his number again, you redialed, keeping the phone in your lap, your eyes fixed on the screen. The ringing began again along with that same buzzing.

Holy shit! Ivar was there! Somewhere in the house with his phone!

Ending the call, you weren’t sure what to do but panic hit your chest, and as if on autopilot, you silently pushed yourself up to stand. You didn’t call out his name, instead, walked, tiptoed, to your bedroom door hesitating when your hand touched the handle. Why weren’t you calling out to him? Why was your door closed?

A thousand thoughts and feelings swirled in your head but none you could name. Snap out of it, you blasted yourself! It’s Ivar, your boyfriend, your true love; the guy you had been pining for all day. Not some intruder on the other side of the door ready to do horrible things. Right? Of course not…. Of course not….you repeated to yourself.

Carefully you turned the knob and slowly pushed open the door. Your room was dark and at the end of your bed sat a hooded figure... waiting. The light was too dim to see his face and his hood concealed his outline. It was the tension in the air and the way his head suddenly tilted to one side, looking in your direction, that confirmed it was him.

“Oh my god!” you finally cried, and swiped the wall, hitting the light-switch on; both of you instantly recoiling and squinting from the brightness. “Ivar! You terrified me!”

Making no move to stand, he kept looking at you, his eyes skipping over your face and down your body, clearly analyzing the details of your appearance. It was his forced, joyless laugh that made every muscle in your body tense. Steadying himself, he fell silent before sighing in a way that gave no indication of his state of mind. Lifting his hand, he flicked his fingers, beckoning you closer, his wicked blue eyes conveying that all was not well.

Placing your phone on your dresser, you removed your coat, throwing it to the floor, and stepped out of your shoes. Walking toward him, you lowered to the carpet and stood on your knees, pushing in between his legs. He never took his eyes off yours and your mouth went dry from the intensity.

So fast it made you flinch, he brought his hands up and cupped your cheeks. Normally it would have melted your heart but his steeliness strummed all your nerves.

“Ivar?” you peered up into his bottomless eyes, his brows furrowed. “Babe, I was just calling you. All-day, I.…”

“Where are your parents?” he cut you off. “They’ve been gone all day.”

“Oh...” you hesitated, ignoring how he knew that, “They’re away. My mom is gone until Tuesday, my dad was supposed to be back tonight but his flight got messed up. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

It was hard to know what answer he was looking for, but that didn’t seem it as his face remained unchanged.

“They leave you alone over-night? A teenage girl with a bedroom on the ground floor and her fucking window unlocked. Any creep could get in.”

The irony was lost on him and pointing it out was not the thing to do. Instead, you waited for him to finish, knowing he didn’t actually want you to answer.

Not taking his eyes off you, he seemed to grimace as he, again, scanned your cheeks, and eyes and mouth, his eyelids narrowing further.

“And who are you so dressed up for, hmm? Mark?”

“No!” you rushed. “He just gave me a ride home from the dance. I asked him to. I was crying.”

That admission made his face flicker but only slightly.

“I was upset about our fight and missing you,” you explained.

Using your courage, you raised your hands and finally touched him, resting them on his thighs.

Instantly, he turned and you thought for a moment he was moving away but instead, he leaned back and grabbed the box of tissues from the nightstand.

“It's okay, I’m not upset anymore. Thank you,” your eyes flitted down to the yellow box he held up for you.

“No,” his face tightened, “Wipe your face. Take that stuff off.”

“Wha?”

“That lipstick,” he quipped, lifting his eyebrows and glancing at the box, urging you on. “And that crap on your cheeks.”

Slowly, you grabbed a tissue, pulling it from the box, another withdrawing behind. As you wiped the pink gloss from your mouth, and blush from your skin, he reached up and pushed his hood back, exposing the extent of his exhaustion; his pale face and dark ringed eyes and messy hair that for the first time had no product in it. Seeing his weariness, you wondered what kind of sleepless and heart-broken roller-coaster he, himself, had been on since your fight.

Grabbing the dirty Kleenex from you, he tossed it onto the floor and took your chin in his hand making you wish he would just break the tension and kiss you.

“You know I don’t like you wearing make-up.”

“I know, it's just...”

“It’s just what?”

“I don’t know,” you tried to look down, but he held your face in place, forcing you to look at him. You felt as if you were being scolded

“You don’t need that shit. You are so beautiful.” Shaking his head, his eyes lowered for a second and he sighed your name, his body and defenses softening and you jumped at the opening.

“Ivar,” you whispered, rubbing your hands over his jeans. “Babe,” you cooed softly making him close his eyes, frowning as if your affection pained him.

“What the fuck am I going to do with you?” he said quietly, opening his eyes and glaring. “What am I going to do?”

“Kiss me,” you replied despite his harsh look, thinking of the first day he picked you up at lunch. “Kiss me, and everything else will come,” you whispered and his face began to blur as tears rose in your eyes.

And like that, his mouth was on you, his hands holding your face, his breath revealing his relief and his whimper giving away his desperation. Your sweetheart was aching for you, all this time, but he had no idea what to do. His tongue pushed inside your mouth, his lips demanding more and you lifted your hands and gripped his hoodie, bracing yourself from the force of his emotions. Your beautiful Ivar had been adrift without you. Utterly lost!

Pulling back, he stared at you, his face filled with agony. “I love you so much,” he whispered, his own eyes filling with tears.

“I love you too,” you murmured back.

“Never. Reject. Me. Again,” he articulated as his nostrils flared, his threat easy to hear but you could see past it. “From this moment on, this second on, we belong to each other. Even more than we did before. Do you hear me? You. Are. Mine.”

“I was always yours, Ivar,” you sounded like you were pleading for him to believe you. “And I always, always, will be. I need you,” you whispered.

“I need you,” he repeated back as if swearing a vow. “Now,” he let go of your face and straightened. “Show me,” he jerked his chin and the slightest wave of arrogance came over him. “Show me,” he said again, raising his dark eyebrows expectantly. “With your mouth.”

What?

Was this a test, you wondered, wishing he’d continue touching you with the same love and need you felt just an instant ago. But of course his defenses were still up; he was searching for reassurance. The same reassurance you didn’t give the day before making the situation explode. Your poor Ivar, you would not let him down twice.

Nodding, you looked down at his lap, running your hands over the bulge in his jeans. If this was what he needed to feel your devotion, you would indulge him. In a flash, your quick hands had his jeans open, his beautiful cock upright in your grasp. It always amazed you how smooth his skin looked, his head a shade darker than the rest but all flawless with the slightest sheen.

Leaning down, you took him into your mouth, loving how it felt and his hand grabbed the back of your neck, not pushing but letting you know that he could. God, he tasted amazing; salty and clean and you tightened your fingers around his base and started to move.

Oh how you loved the way he hissed when you bobbed your mouth up and down, his hips jerking and his grip on your neck getting tight. Each time you took him into the back of your throat, it triggered that reflex and like some submissive craving pain, you were instantly turned on. What was wrong with you that the idea of suffocating on him made you wet? Picking up your pace made him moan and you began to slam down a little harder and a touch further each time, making yourself gag.

“Fuck!” he snarled in response clearly loving the sounds of it. “You want to choke on my dick, baby? Hmm?” he grunted out into the room. “Aw fuck I missed you. Last night and all fucking day, I missed you....so much.”

On you moved, and sucked and slurped, your lips sliding down his shaft, your throat getting used to the roughness.

“I’m so lucky to be with you. Fuck!” he growled, rolling his hips up toward your mouth. “I don’t give a shit about that other guy anymore. None of that matters. I just want to be with you. I love you.”

That was the closest you knew he‘d ever come to apologizing.

“Yea, baby, suck it,” he groaned again, “Suck my cock. You’re so beautiful. But don’t get greedy, I have plans for you tonight.”

Reaching down he yanked up the skirt of your purple dress, shimmying it higher until it was above your waist and you were kneeling in your thong. He obviously liked it as he growled and slapped your ass hard before pulling you off of him, his eyes staring at your mouth which must have looked red and puffy and totally wrecked.

“Get on the bed and open your legs.”

“Pardon?” your eyes flashed wide.

“I’m going to make you mine.”

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[k-s-morgan]

Hello I have recently discovered your blog very deep analysis of scenes and characters ! Can you tell me about the empathy Will has. Is it the visions he has when he goes to murder cases

Hi! Thank you - and sure! I’ll mix some of my previous answers here. Basically, I have two views on it, and none of them is about Will being a good empath.

Version 1: Will has deep understanding of killers only because he is one

To me, Will’s empathy is one of the most contradictory things in the show because what ended up on screen differs from what I’m sure Bryan had in mind. Will doesn’t have a good empathy in ‘Hannibal’ - in fact, I’d argue that he has a rather limited capacity for it, considering how he can’t relate to most people and fails to read their emotions even on a basic level from time to time.

In the books, Will does have an empathy disorder: he mirrors people, often without noticing it, and it makes him a better profiler. In the show, what Will has is an almost supernatural ability to connect with exclusively killers on some dark mind level. In E1 of S1, Jack says that Will makes leaps no one can explain, and Will tries to argue that the evidence explains it. But it really, really doesn’t. He doesn’t just make good guesses, he determines what the killer is thinking with 100% accuracy, sometimes to the point of voicing their literal thoughts aloud. He doesn’t mirror them like he does in the books: he retreats into his imagination and sees himself in their place physically, hearing their thoughts and repeating their actions. That’s not empathy, exactly - he’s more of a medium in these scenes.

Will doesn’t mirror people in general in the show. He does acquire some new traits - like he begins to do some sophisticated Hannibal-gestures eventually, but it isn’t presented as anything more but typical human behavior. Many of us develop new habits after being in close contact with another person. Will has a dominating range of his own unique habits - again, like most of us do. He can apply the killers’ perspective with starling clarity, but he’s in perfect control over it. He doesn’t get lost in there like it happens in the books. The only exceptions are when he’s very sick in S1 (with Tobias’ and Gideon’s two kills) and when he’s gone too long subduing his real self in S3 (when he gets angry with Alana and Jack and his vision blurs with Francis’). Other than that, Will decides when to switch his ability on and off. That doesn’t fit with empathy disorder.

Will feels sorry for some people (mostly murderers and those he can relate to in other respects, like Reba), but he remains calm and logical in other instances. For example, let’s take E1 of S1 again. Elise’s parents are emotional wrecks, but Will remains collected and asks a very logical question about the cat that Jack overlooked. In E5, he notices that Jack is shaken and talks to Mrs. Buddish, who is consumed by guilt and sorrow, himself. These are scenes where people are emotional and Will isn’t affected by it - well, he does react in certain ways, but he doesn’t mirror them. Same principle applies over and over again throughout the entire show. Will remains ‘himself’ at all times.

If the plan was to demonstrate he’s in control of his empathy for the most part, then it doesn’t work as well because Will is never shown doing his trick with other people. For example, at the times when the darkness grows overwhelming and Will understands he begins to slip, why not 'hide’ in the heads of normal people like Alana? It could give Will the strength to fight his dark impulses, to let some light and normality into his mind. Since he doesn’t do it, he likely just cannot relate to them properly. His gift works only on killers.

More than that, Will is bad at deciphering simple emotional language. In E7 of S2, he’s released from prison and Alana greets him. Will doesn’t register her coldness and the obvious hard undertones of her questions, he remains oblivious and thinks she’s come with good intentions. He misunderstands the reason for Peter’s feelings in E8 because he’s too focused on his own emotions - he thinks about killing Hannibal, so he assumes Peter also killed Ingram. He falls for Margot’s obvious lies, even though it’s very clear from her body language that she’s not in a mood to have sex, especially with a man. He spends ages figuring out whether Hannibal is capable of love. He misunderstands Abigail for a long time and ends up alienating her because he thinks she’s scared of darkness while in fact she’s scared because of her enjoyment of some of it. And there are endless examples like this.

Now, Hannibal says Will has “pure empathy” in E1, but he doesn’t know him at this point and can only make guesses. Also, anything he says to Jack is automatically subject to suspicion since he’s unlikely to be 100% truthful, especially when it comes to Will’s assessment. We also can’t rely on Will to tell the truth, considering how terrified he is of anyone finding out the reason for his seclusion.

I don’t think it was actually planned like this, but in the show as it ended up, there is no evidence of Will having some huge and unique universal empathy. He connects only with killers and even then, it’s more of a supernatural mind link rather than empathy. He understands them because, like Freddie says, he is a killer himself. He doesn’t show the same deep understanding for non-dark people, he makes huge mistakes in emotional judgement, and he doesn’t engage in mirroring more than most of us do. So yes, like you, I don’t think Will is a good empath.

Version 2: Will has a gift that’s centered on the presence of a murder victim’s body

We can see that Will reconstructs crimes and understands killers as they commit them, but he doesn’t get them in all other situations not related to murder. From major examples: Will often doesn't understand what Hannibal feels for him. He has no idea how to connect to Abigail correctly. He misunderstands Chiyoh. He can’t say much about Francis other than figure out his mindset during murders. If he really had killer-oriented empathy, he wouldn't have so many problems. So, maybe Will’s gift is not really about killers either? Maybe it’s about death?

Every time Will reconstructs the crimes, his visions revolve around the victim’s body. When he analyzes the scenes without the bodies, he  just imagines them there, like with the Dragon: they were already removed, but he envisioned them after reading the report. The only interesting exceptions happen when Will gets into the Ripper's head in S2 to see what he did with Miriam, but there is still a body of a politician involved. The second instance is when Will analyzes Sarah’s body in E8 of S2: he gets into Peter's mind almost by accident, and while this mind is twisted, it doesn't belong to a killer. Peter is the only non-killer we see Will ever connect with, but he's still a person heavily involved with a body - he tried to give it a new life. When Will looked at the scene, he was supposed to get into Ingram’s head, but instead, he got into Peter’s. So it seems like a body is an important component of Will's gift, a catalyzer he needs to turn it on.

And finally, there are two instances in which Will loses control over himself in terms of this ability. Both happen in S1, when he’s physically ill. The first time, he speaks like Tobias - and he’s staring at the body directly when it happens. The second time, he speaks like Gideon - and once again, he’s staring at the corpse of his doctor. I feel like it’s a big indication of Will having not an empathy, but an actual half-supernatural gift that is activated once he sees/senses the body.

[zims-left-shoe]

I'd about this stuff but zim x reader where reader has to introduce zim to family and its awkward and fluffy?!?! Did I do that correctly??

AAAA yes!! This prompt actually works perfectly. Ily bby!! I really need to get back on Insta and Snap so we can talk more lmao.

Romance. What even is it? You could never say for sure, and yet you had been playing the courtship expert for about a month or so. What else were you supposed to do? Not only would he not take no for an answer, it was a fine way to kill your boredom. He had zero expectations, which was what made it great. You could tell him anything and he would believe it. Boyfriends were supposed to do their s/o's homework for them? He never questioned it once. To be completely honest, he was the only reason you were passing chemistry and calculus. 

That being said, at the end of the day, it was all one big game. Wasn't it? All he had asked of you was to be his 'lovepig' in a romantic experiment he was conducting. You had nothing else better to do, and hell, it wasn't like you needed to be keeping your options open. You were just as unpopular as the alien freak himself. So, why not? Wasn't it just some mutualistic dynamic? You both benefited from it. He got 'data' (the accuracy of it questionable) for his Earth infiltration, and you got to have some fun. Plus, there was the fact that you haven't touched a homework assignment in weeks.

These were all things you had told yourself. You had managed to explain away all the times you had defended him from Dib and your classmates as being all part of the experiment. If there was a deeper reason, like real feelings perhaps, you didn't want to consider it too much. This relationship was intended to be one big joke after all. 

"Y/n? Hello?" A hand was waved in front of your face, ripping you from your thoughts and reflections. 

"Huh? Did you say something?" You tore your gaze from the plate of uneaten food that sat before you, eyes dragging up to meet those of your father. The man next to him groaned; your other father. You loved them both, but they were both staring at you with slightly annoyed frustration. They particularly disliked when you would space out while they were talking to you, which apparently they had been.

"Yes, I did. I said, when do we get to meet the boyfriend?" The one you called Father spoke; he was your biological sire, and the one you tended to get annoyed with the most. Genetics, you supposed. You were too much alike, and thus you butted heads often.

"Zim? I dunno." Shrugging, you picked at the dinner on your plate with your fork. It was a response that you hoped would suffice, despite knowing full well you had no intentions of ever introducing the Irken soldier for obvious reasons. Having lived with you for so long, they both knew what your response meant. At first, you assumed they'd only sigh and move on, but that wouldn't be the case. 

"We really want to meet him. We've given it a month, but I think it's time that we finally see him." Your father spoke again, voice firmer than the last time.

"I know you said he's...er, unique, but we promise we won't think anything of it. So long as he's good to you, it doesn't matter." The one you called Dad chimed in, a kind smile on his face. You knew he wasn't just saying that, and that he meant it. He was probably the nicest person you had ever met, and you were thankful to have him in your life.

That being said, you couldn't help but scoff at what was said, particularly the last line. Good to you? Zim was probably the most selfish person you had ever met in your life. Still, he did provide you with a source of entertainment. And if you worded things the right way, he would do anything you wanted him to. He was surprisingly easy to manipulate. 

"What's so funny?" 

"Nothing, Dad. But, no. I don't think you'll be meeting him." You expected that to be the end of it, bringing a forkful of dinner to your lips. 

"Y/n M/n L/n, you will bring your boyfriend home within the next week or else you won't be seeing him ever again." Eyes widening in surprise, your fork clattered against your plate as it slipped through your fingers. You would never have predicted your father to become so agitated over this. On some level, you supposed he was just looking out for you, wanting to make sure that Zim was a decent guy and all that. But at the same time, it was annoying. Did he not trust you to handle yourself? Plus, you were almost certain they wouldn't be satisfied upon actually meeting Zim. 

You remained silent. What you should have done was once again shrug your shoulders and say, 'fine'. Your relationship wasn't even supposed to be real, just some experiment that didn't matter too much to either of you. So why should you care if they forced you to break up because you wouldn't bring him home? And yet...you found yourself devastated at the mere thought of that. Was it because you enjoyed the absence of boredom? That had to be it. It couldn't possibly be because you had developed feelings for the little roach...no way. 

"You either bring him home for dinner Friday night, or-" Your father pressed, and you slammed your palm on the table before he could continue.

"Fine, okay!" Glaring at your food, you were no longer hungry. You just wanted dinner to be over. "May I be excused?" You asked, voice still seething with attitude. They both waved you off, so you took your plate and covered it, putting it in the fridge for later. Storming off to your room, you supposed you shared more similarities with your 'boyfriend' than you'd like to admit. You both had quick tempers for one thing, but you both liked being in control for another. You were about to get a rude awakening soon enough; you weren't keeping your feelings and relationships in check as much as you thought.

(more under the cut)

-

There were several ways your peers, if asked, would describe you. Nice, however, was not particularly one of them. It wasn't that you weren't a good person deep down. You just preferred to make yourself your number one priority, even if it turned you into a little bit of a bitch in the process. It was much easier than taking the risk of offering yourself up to others. After all, who really wants to deal with untangling the mess of emotions? Ignoring everything was the safest thing to do. Considering that, it wasn't surprising that you and Zim had been drawn together. They say opposites attract, but you found it to work almost the same for those who are similar. 

After all, Zim was also a big supporter of suppressing all emotions, so much so that you were sure he forgot he even had any. And maybe he didn't. You didn't think it was possible, considering he was still pretty much a person, but at the same time, you never asked about Irken psychology.

Not only that, but Zim seemed to care only for himself at all times. Even in the times he would do anything that vaguely resembled an act of love, it still had everything to do with his own personal motivations of gaining human courtship data. 

With all of that on the table, plus the fact that you weren't really sure what the status of your relationship even was, you weren't expecting you would be bringing him home for dinner Friday. What you envisioned happening was for him to call this whole thing off once you gave him the ultimatum, claiming that he had enough research so you would be through.

And again, there was that small wave of anxiety that passed over you. For whatever reason, you didn't want to lose whatever it was the two of you had going on. You had grown used to having someone to talk to everyday, even if the majority of conversation was listening to him drone on about his evil plans to conquer the Earth in the name of the Irken empire. Frowning, you glanced down to whatever toxic food substance was sitting on your tray. 

The surrounding cafeteria was filled with the chatter of your classmates, all rambling about mostly unimportant things. You had your popular kids laughing and running their own psychoanalysis on Dib, who in turn ignored them from across the room while his sister played video games by his side. You also had your social outcasts, sitting by themselves and discussing whatever they liked to talk about; well, Gretchen wasn't exactly talking. She chose to occupy her time by staring at Dib, who in turn ignored her too. Same shit as always. 

The din of irrelevant voices and clattering plates barely did anything to mask the forceful footsteps approaching your table, ones that could only be brought about by a soldier's march. Whether it was because you had grown so used to the sound or you were so wrapped up in your mind, the noise didn't register with you until a tray was harshly dropped onto the table.

"Why do you look like that?" The alien now sitting across from you asked, with a hint of something that at first you thought was distaste, but later recognized to be Zim's version of concern. Which was strange in itself, concern for others was always an afterthought for him, sometimes not even a thought at all.

"Like what?"

"All shmoopy." You narrowed your eyes, about to give a remark of denial, but whatever words died in your throat as you instinctively straightened up from your slouch, lips straightening from downturned into a neutral expression.

Breathing out a sigh, you decided to just get straight to the point before he would go off on a tangent about whatever thing Dib said in class that offended him. "Look, Zim. You need to come over for dinner Friday night, or else our relationship, experiment, whatever the hell it is, is over." Zim opened his mouth to say something, but you continued on before he could get even a single syllable out. "I know you don't want to, and believe me, you embarrassing yourself in front of my family is the last thing I want, but my parents are demanding to meet you. And if they don't, they're forbidding me from seeing you again or whatever." 

The Irken stayed quiet for a moment, thinking this over. To you, you guessed that his silence was him formulating some great break up speech in his head, so you braced for it. Why you even cared was beyond you, but it was still not what you wanted. "First of all, Zim will not embarrass himself!" You fixed him with a disbelieving look. There was no chance in any of the infinite parallel universes that he would not make a complete fool of himself. "But FINE! Zim will conquer this...interrogation."

Rolling your eyes, you attempted to fight the grin tugging at your lips. "It's not an interrogation, roach boy."

He disregarded your comment, clearly no longer listening. Instead, he hopped up onto the table, heeled soldier boots striking the tabletop, the sound echoing off the cafeteria walls. "Zim will be the best love-mate your parental units have ever laid eyes on!!" He yelled, throwing his fists in the air. Shrinking into yourself, you covered your face with your arms, face burning from the heads that were all turning in your direction to stare.

"Please don't say it like that." After a moment, Zim climbed back down and into his seat on the bench. Your classmates quickly lost interest, as these outbursts were commonplace. Eventually, you came out of your self cocoon to lay some very specific instructions on him. "Okay, cool. I need you to listen very carefully."

"Eh?" He snapped his attention back to you. Groaning, you reached across the tabled to grab his hand, your go to move to make sure he listened to you.

"Come over Friday at six. The whole time, just smile and nod. Don't say anything more than necessary. Just get by with the bare minimum, and then go home. Do you understand?" You looked to him with an intense look in your eyes. You knew that if you were not explicitly clear, the night could end in disaster. House-exploding, alien death battle kind of disaster. 

"Of course I do! Don't worry your stinky head, Zim has it under control." He dropped your hand, waving you off, overconfident as always. 

"Alright...I'm trusting you." You didn't trust him in the slightest. But there was really nothing you would be capable of doing. You had instructed him, very specifically you might add, and that was all you could do. And hope. You would be hoping too. With one last relenting sigh, you had no time to process the relief that came with the surprise of not being broken up with. Whatever relaxation you had briefly felt was immediately replaced by dread for Friday.

-

You laid sprawled on the couch, staring at the ceiling and drumming your fingers on your stomach. You really hoped that Zim would take your advice and behave himself over the course of the next few hours, but in the back of your mind, you knew that to be impossible. The house had been quiet, save for the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen as your dad worked on dinner. Meanwhile, your father was just finishing tidying up the house, despite you telling him that it didn't matter. You told him that Zim wouldn't care, but the real reason it didn't matter is it probably would end up in worse shape regardless. His response had been to ignore you as he continued to wipe down surfaces you forgot existed. 

Right at six o'clock on the dot, your doorbell rang. You bolted up right, scrambling to reach the door faster than your father. Unfortunately, you weren't quite quick enough to match his long-legged stride, and he threw open the door just as you had the doorway within your sights. You had to skid to a halt in order to stop yourself from slamming into your father's back. 

"You must be Zim." Your father's voice was firm, but not threatening. At least not yet. You peered around him to get a good look at Zim, who, to your relief, was smiling and nodding. You stifled the laugh that was brought on at the sight of a simple black bow tie that was tied very incorrectly around his neck. It was a strange sight, considering it didn't quite fit with the standard invader uniform he always adorned. 

Your father stepped aside to let him in, sticking his hand out afterwards, prompting the Irken to shake it. Zim gazed at it quizzically, apparently not understanding what to do. Just as you were about to bestow a helpful hint, his face brightened as he kicked his leg up, resting his foot in your father's hand. He still seemed to be processing the motivations behind Zim's actions, but before he could respond, you grabbed ahold of Zim's leg, yanking it back onto the ground. The invader stumbled, and before he could fall, you threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close and poking his cheek.

"Oh, Zim, what a jokester! Anyway, we'll be off now, call when dinner's ready-" You tried to drag your alien counterpart away before he could do anything else stupid, but unfortunately, your father had other plans.

"No, I don't think so." Although his voice was less than pleased, you knew he was just trying to put up an intimidating front. He wanted to scare Zim at least a little bit. Groaning, you turned around. "So, you think this whole thing is one big joke, huh?"

"Father, please-" You rolled your eyes, knowing that Zim was too dense to actually be pressured by your father's act. 

"You do drugs? Ever been suspended?"

"I thought you said this wasn't an interrogation." Zim muttered to you, and although it was intended to only be heard by you, Zim is physically incapable of speaking under his breath, and thus your father heard it too. You thought he was more fazed by Zim being unaffected by his grill attempts than what was actually said. 

"What's with the...you know?" Your father decided to ignore Zim's comment and go right for the green elephant in the room: Zim's appearance. In all honesty, it was a rude question. But, Zim was used to it by now.

"We talked about this! It's a skin condition!" You sighed in exasperation, just wanting to get through this night with your sanity intact. "Also, you can't just ask people that." There was an awkward pause between everybody, and you almost wished Zim would start screaming about something not even relevant.

Luckily, you didn't have to stew in silence for much longer. "Dinner's ready, come get it or don't!" Your dad called from the table. You gestured for Zim to follow you as you shuffled after your father, whose strides were quick and long, making it hard to keep up at a normal pace. Both parents had sat down, you following suit across from them. Zim, however, stayed standing, eyes fixated on the plate and glass of water resting on the table in front of the chair next to you. You hoped he was sensible enough to just ignore the food and sit there politely. 

"You can sit down, you know." Your father eyed Zim skeptically. The invitation to take a seat seemed to snap Zim out of his trance, as he sat down so fast he bumped the table, making the silverware shake. He finally appeared to take notice of your parents, and pointed a clawed finger across the table.

"It's like my Tallest!" His grin was wide, and his contacts portrayed his excitement. Your parents, on the other hand, looked to be beyond confused. You didn't exactly blame Zim for the association, considering both were tall males, and his comment made you notice that they were coincidentally wearing hues of red and purple. "I didn't know you had your own Tallest." 

"Who?" Your dad asked, eyes flicking between you and your uninformed alien boyfriend. You gave Zim a swift swat to his thigh under the table, intending to convey the message of 'what happened to smiling and nodding?'. He seemed to understand your intention, and answered your dad's question by cracking a smile and nodding furiously. Internally, you were smacking yourself in the face as both parents stared at you as if they were wondering whether or not Zim was higher than a fucking kite. The dinner so far was going fantastic. At least he hadn't caused any physical damage yet.

Your father cleared his throat, deciding to move on. "So, Zim...what are your plans after high school?" Thank god, a subject change. That being said, your relief only lasted about a half a second before you realized he didn't have any answers to this type of question, and he was horrible at bullshitting. 

"Um...oh, you know...stuff." Zim took a fork and began to experimentally stab at the food that was on his plate. "Sciency stuff." He tacked on those words, sensing your father not being satisfied with his original answer.

"Like what, doing an internship at Membrane Labs or something?" Your father continued to ask questions, but at this point you were helpless to stop him. Zim was on his own. 

"Yes!" Your father seemed to not believe Zim's confirmation, so you decided to help him out.

"Yeah, he's actually really good friends with Dib. You know, the Professor's son." You offered, albeit a stretch of the truth. The two knew each other very well, and, well, enemies after enough time are basically friends anyway. 

"Yes...the Dib-worm is my best friend." Zim spoke through gritted teeth, and you prayed that your parents wouldn't pick up on the venom seeping into every syllable. 

"You have any siblings?" Your dad asked, gaze less critical than the man next to him.

"No." His answer was short, almost as if he was attempting to speedrun the questions to get this dinner over with faster. Unfortunately, your parents would only fill it with more questions. Any attempt to stop them would be futile. 

"Where are you from exactly?" 

"Somewhere that isn't here. Eh, uh, er...it's very far. You wouldn't know it." Your father raised an eyebrow, growing tired of Zim's evasive and nonspecific responses. In a shocking turn of events, Zim was actually able to read the room for once in his life, picking up on your parents' distrust. "Wow, is this good food or what?" Before you could squeak out a single sound, Zim began to shovel the food on his plate into his mouth as fast as he could, washing it down by chugging the glass of water.

This of course sent you into a panic. You reached out an arm, to do what you weren't sure, but you never made contact. Instead, your hand hovered in the air as you gawked at Zim in bewilderment. He wasn't smoking, flailing, or screaming. In fact, he was taking it quite well. Everything seemed to be okay, and even he seemed to be surprised. His face relaxed into a smile when he realized that nothing was trying to kill him from the inside. Which, if that was what he had expected, you weren't quite sure what his plan had been in the first place, but you knew better than to question him. Questioning Zim only led to long rants that no one had the energy or the willpower to listen to. 

"Thank you-" Your dad's gratitude was cut off by Zim's ear piercing shriek as he dropped to the ground, knocking aside his chair in the process. He thrashed about like a fish out of water as he clawed desperately at his throat and face. Apparently, the delayed reaction had kicked in. His ear-piercing screeches were chopped up by choking and spluttering as he continued to kick and flounder his limbs around wildly. Looking up from the Irken rolling around on the ground to your parents, you noticed that they looked absolutely petrified. 

"He's fine! He'll be fine!" You waved your hands desperately, despite knowing full well they would never believe you. As if to accentuate the incorrectness of your statement, Zim howled out another cry of pain, the sound twisting your face into a cringe. At once, your parents clambered out of their seats, stumbling over each other to get to your side of the table. Your dad kneeled down next to Zim and tried to help him, completely at a loss for what was going on. Meanwhile, your father grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you off around the corner to the kitchen.

As you're being hauled away, you hear a distant "Should I call 911?" from your dad. 

As soon as you were out of ear shot of your suffering boyfriend, your father whisper yelled at you. "What the hell is wrong with him?!"

Again, you felt the need to defend him. It wasn't his fault that his alien biology couldn't handle Earth food, and that he didn't understand Earth culture too well. Okay, maybe that last one was his fault considering he's been on the planet for about four years and blending in was kind of his job. But still! "Look, I promise he's a decent guy once you get to know him."

"He's strange, Y/n! Not in the good way, in a concerning way." He hissed to you, never dropping eye contact. 

"He's just a little different is all!"

"A little different?! He's dying in our dining room!" Suppressing the urge to say, 'you mean our die-ning room?', you took a deep breath, preparing to explain away the probably traumatizing situation your parents were witnessing.

"He has a biological condition that makes it to where he can't a majority of foods." You thought that maybe that statement would calm him down, but it only seemed to worry him more.

"Jesus, Y/n, you couldn't have told us about the dietary restrictions before you brought him over? We almost just killed him!" Running a hand through his hair, he watched as you cast your eyes toward the ground, wringing your hands together. You knew he was right. It was something you should have thought of saying beforehand, you should have just told Zim to bring some Irken food along. But you had expected him to not even think about touching the food. And yet, you had just watched as he scarfed down almost the entire plate and a whole glass of water. 

"Sorry! But...would you please just give him another chance?" You pleaded, voice sweeter than you had ever sounded in your life. 

With a heavy sigh, your father nodded, waving you in the direction of the dining room. "Fine, if he doesn't need to go to the hospital, he can stay for the movie if he wants to. Just go hang out upstairs while we clean up" Your smile displayed your thanks as you made your way back to the scene of the accident. Things seemed to be alright now. If anything, your dad was more shaken up than Zim was. The Irken was standing again, pretending as if nothing happened.

"C'mon." You said nothing more as you took him by the hand, pulling him towards your room. He didn't protest, glad to be away from your dad who had been continuing to fuss over him. As you shut the door to your room behind you, the solace that came with knowing he was okay completely drained from your body. "What the hell was that?!" You smacked him lightly on the arm. He should know better than to consume food that would cause his insides to sizzle and smoke. Apparently, he seemed to still think that had been an ingenious idea.

"Zim was trying to show them that I am a good candidate for your love partner!" Your eyes widened, astonished on multiple levels. He really was a special kind of clueless, wasn't he?

"That was not the way! And why do you even care? I thought this was just some stupid experiment? Why should you care if this whole thing ends, you can just find someone else!" Throwing your hands up, your voice raised in volume, fire licking every word.

"Because Zim doesn't want someone else! Zim wants you, Stinky...Stink-worm." His voice had matched yours in loudness at first, but near the end of his words he grew quieter, arms crossed tightly against his chest, eyes averted in curt sheepishness. If Irkens could blush, you were sure he would be.

Any follow up argument you possessed had fled your brain, the only thing replacing it being the slight heat that flushed your cheeks. "Zim...are you saying that you actually...like me?" You were surprised, but pleasantly so. Now that you had to force yourself to think on it, you had realized that somewhere along the way, you began to like the roach boy more than you care to admit. It was a bit irritating to dwell on, considering this whole arrangement was, in the end, supposed to be no strings attached. He got his data, you had something to fill your time. Life has a funny way of panning things out, regardless of your intentions. 

"Zim is saying nothing!" His eyes were shut tight, a sign you could interpret as confirmation to your question. Neither of you would admit it, nor ever wanted to. That was the unfortunate downside to both sides of the equation having destructively low EQs. 

Even if you wanted to press him more, you were interrupted by your parents calling you for the movie. Sighing, it seemed you would have to shelve this conversation for a later date, which was fine by you. Feelings were messy and complicated anyway. "Let's go, roach boy." Zim followed without complaint, and as soon as you both came into view, your parents hit play on the film, which you instantly recognized as E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, something you had seen a million times. It had been your movie of choice as a kid. "Topical." You murmured under your breath, directing Zim to the couch. 

Your parents seemed impressed to see Zim alive and well, acting as if he hadn't been borderline dying on the dining room floor less than twenty minutes ago. "We've seen this about a hundred times, we know how it ends. You two have fun." Your father smiled to the both of you. Apparently, he actually listened to you and was giving Zim the benefit of the doubt.

"But not too much fun." Your dad added helpfully, but of course the implications of his comment flew right over Zim's head. 

"Anyway, if we don't see you before you leave, it was nice to meet you, Zim. Sorry for almost killing you." Your father didn't wait for a response--which he most likely wouldn't have gotten anyway--before heading to bed with your dad, most likely to watch something of their own. Your parents flicked the lights off as they exited, leaving the room dark, save for the light being thrown from the TV, as well as a soft glow coming from Zim's PAK. You had never noticed that before, but it made sense, considering this was the first time you had seen him in the dark before.

"You might like this. It's about an alien who comes to Earth. Well, more like gets stranded on Earth." 

"Hmm." Zim peered at the screen with interest, but began to frantically rub at his eyes, blinking repeatedly. Before you could even ask if he was okay, he snapped a tired response. "Contacts are bothering Zim." 

"Just take 'em out." He attempted to fix you with a distrusting stare, but it was broken by another stint of scratching. "They won't be coming back out, at least not before you leave. You'll be fine." You sank into the couch cushions, the darkness and familiarity of a favorite movie easing you into a contented state.

"Fine. But Zim is blaming you if you're wrong, Stink-worm." With speed and skill, he peeled the lenses from his eyes, stowing them in his PAK, which didn't seem all that sanitary. He blinked a few more times, but seemed comfortable. You directed your attention to the TV screen, but it was snapped away again at the feeling of weight settling on your thigh. Looking down, you saw Zim's head casually laid on your leg, eyes fixated on the movie. "Say anything and I'm replacing your organs with space squids." Zim grumbled, still not looking at you. 

"That's not very nice." You snickered through your words. You knew his threat was empty, and you weren't exactly a stranger to outlandish warnings yourself.

The Irken groaned, still not moving. "Ugh, fine. Say anything, and I'll, eh, lick your face or something." You said nothing more, arm resting lazily on his side, hand hanging near his own. Out of his own volition, he intertwined his claws with your fingers, almost daring you to say something. You didn't.

As the movie progressed, you could tell Zim was a hundred percent into it. That being said, when it came time for the scenes of Elliot and E.T. dying and being treated by the government, you felt Zim grip you a little tighter. You were beginning to wonder if you should turn it off. You were only encouraged in that thought when you felt Zim's back tremble, and although you couldn't see his face, you believed him to be crying.

You reached out your free hand for the remote, but stopped at the sound of Zim's uncharacteristically shaky voice. "Do-don't." You drew back your free hand, the other hand being tucked closer into Zim's chest. A sigh slipped past your lips, and you lifted him up and set him on the ground while he swiped at his eyes so you could kick your legs up and across the couch, reaching out to grab him and lay him on top of you before he could even begin to protest about being moved.

"You okay?" You asked, expecting a fight about being placed in this position. 

To your amazement, he didn't squirm off of you at all, instead, saying a simple "Yes." He even cuddled into you, head resting on your chest as he watched the film. This was the calmest you had ever seen the normally high-energy alien. A hand began to absentmindedly stroke his back, the texture of the fabric of his uniform unlike any you had ever felt. At first you were at a loss for what the rumbling against your chest was, but after a moment you were able to place it. Purrs were rising from Zim's throat, and although it was reminiscent of a cat, it was still a sound that was distinctly alien. It was a noise you had never heard before.

"For the record, I like you. A lot." You murmured quietly, hoping he was too enthralled by the movie to register what was said. Regrettably for you, Zim only seemed to listen when you wished him not to.

"Zim also thinks you are quite tolerable...for an Earth-worm."

"Gee, thanks. I feel so special." Despite your words, there was still a smile in your voice. At this point, the movie was past it's tearjerker moments, and the kids were all trying to get E.T. back to the forest. "So, do Irkens have a thing like E.T., where they connect with someone?" The syncing of Elliot and E.T.'s biological functions, emotions, and thoughts was a main plot point in the movie, and it got you wondering if maybe there was some accuracy, if not with Irkens, perhaps with another alien race?

"Sort of." His answer was unfocused, still drawn into the end of the film. You guessed this would be his new favorite Earth movie, which meant he would most certainly be demanding for you two to watch it together at least twice a month. 

"What do you mean, ‘sort of’?"

"We mate for life." He paused while you were still processing his statement. "But I don't think that was the connection you were asking about."

"Oh brother." You mumbled, deciding to toss that information out the window. Good to know that you wouldn't be getting of the roach anytime soon...or ever. 

[davidmann95]

now that it's over, thoughts on Bendis' Superman as a whole?

pretenderoftheeast said: So, thoughts on Bendis' Superman and Action Comics' tenure altogether and separately now that it's over?

Anonymous said: Best and Worst things about Bendis' Superman run

Anonymous said: Now that it is over, what are your thoughts on Bendis' runs on Superman and Action Comics as a whole?

Anonymous said: Retrospective thoughts on Bendis' Superman as a whole now that it's, I guess, done?

Anonymous said: Hey so since Bendis’ Superman stuff seems to be done, what did you think of the run as a whole?

I decided to hold off a bit on writing on this one, if only so that I could reread the Action Comics side of it since Superman stood out in my memory a lot more. But now I have, and as we’re heading into a bold new era of Superman (and it’s coming in fast - just since I made my Superman in 2021 predictions we’ve gotten Ed Pinsent finally reprinting his legendary bootleg Silver Age Superman, Steve Orlando announcing his Superman analogue book Project Patron, an official shonen Superman redesign for RWBY/Justice League, PKJ’s Super-debut turning out far better than I ever expected, Superman & Lois’s first proper trailer largely taking people pleasantly by surprise, and my learning that there’s a Sylvester Stallone Old Man Superman analogue movie titled Samaritan coming out this summer) we’re ready to take a look back with at least a touch of perspective. I’ll lead with complaints, so everybody who’s been waiting for me to say that Bendis on Superman was Bad, Actually, savor this because it’s as close as you’ll get.

The Bad

* I hate to say it, but rereading that side of the run there’s no two ways about it: the structure of Action Comics as a whole is a mess. It baffled me from day one that it was the more acclaimed of the two books for so long - I guess people are hardwired at this point to think of ‘street’ stuff as where Bendis is supposed to be - because it was immediately clear that Superman had a well-defined story he wanted to tell, while Action was the usual Bendis off-the-cuff improvisation. It’s barely even a story in the same way, and it’s certainly not the ‘Metropolis crime book’ people took it as: it’s 28 issues of Superman and his supporting cast stuffed a pinball machine with the Red Cloud pinging off of each other as we wait to see who falls in the hole at the bottom, and partway through Leviathan and the Legion of Doom and 90s Superboy are tossed into the mix to keep it going a little longer. On an issue-to-issue basis it’s frequently really good, but the core plot of the book is *maybe* six issues stretched out over two and a half years.

* I’ve gone into this some before, but structure-wise Unity Saga also has problems: Phantom Planet rules but either it needed to be cut or the back half needed to be a year all its own in order to accommodate the scale of what it’s attempting. It’s got an interstellar civil war leading into the formation of the United Planets, family drama, Rogol Zaar’s whole deal, and Jon’s coming of age, and I’d say only that last one is really properly served. Even Jon forming the United Planets, while contextually somewhat justified in terms of 1. The situation being so far gone he’s the only one who’d even think in those terms, 2. Things being bad enough that these assorted galactic powers would be willing to try it, and 3. Him having the S on his chest to sell it, isn’t at all built up to within the run itself.

* Rogol Zaar sucks. He’s made up of nothing but interesting ideas - he’s an ersatz warrior ‘superman’ of a bygone age of empires up against the new model, he’s the sins of Krypton as a conservative superpower come home to roost, he’s while not outright said to be definitely Superman’s tragic half-brother and the culmination of everything this run does with Jor-El - but none of them manifest on the page, he’s just a big punchy dude with a dumb design who screams about how you should take him seriously because he’s totally the one who blew up Krypton. Even a killer redesign by Ryan Sook for Legion of Superheroes can’t fix that. There are lots of bad villains with good ideas who are redeemed with time and further effort, but I can’t imagine Zaar getting that TLC to become a fraction of whatever Bendis envisioned him as.

* The second year of Action Comics, after establishing itself in its first as one of the most consistently gorgeous books on the stands, leads with Szymon Kudranski’s weak output and then concludes with John Romita Jr. turning in some career-worst work. The latter is particularly egregious because for that first year Bendis writes a really collected, gentle Superman so him getting pushed into being more aggressive should have an impact, but Romita draws such a craggy rough-looking Superman in the first place that it mutes any sort of shock value.

 * WE NEVER LEARN WHAT’S UP WITH LEONE’S CAR, WHAT THE HELL. You don’t just DROP THAT IN THERE and then NEVER FOLLOW UP.

The Good

* Superman got his real clothes back after 7 truly ridiculous years.

* Bendis fundamentally gets Clark’s voice in a way unlike almost any other writer - even all-around better writers of the character almost never approach how spot-on he is with having Superman speak and act exactly how Superman should.

* Supporting cast front and center! He writes a dynamite Lois, Perry, and Jimmy (even if many of Lois’s more out-there decisions in the run don’t end up retroactively justified the way you’d hope), Ma and Pa are more fun than they’ve been in decades in their brief appearances, he manages to turn having Jor-El in the mix into a positive, and the Daily Planet as a whole has an incredibly distinctive vibe to it like never before that I hope is taken as a baseline going forward.

* The non-Rogol Zaar baddies? All ruled. Invisible Mafia and Red Cloud are both brilliant ideas executed solidly if overextended. Zod as Kryptonian Vegeta, Mongul as a generational perpetual bastard engine primed to be incapable of self-reflection, and Ultraman as “what if Irredeemable but he’d never been a good guy and also he was a Jersey mobster” are the best versions of those characters by numberless light-eons. Lex is on-point in his sparse appearances. Xanadoth as a mystical cosmic monster older than time who still talks like a Bendis character is however unintentionally a hoot. The alt-universe Parasite is a more intimidating Doomsday than Doomsday ever was. And Synmar as an alien culture’s attempt at creating their own Superman and messing up the formula when they make him a soldier can and should be a legitimate major ongoing villain coming out of this run.

* Pretty much all the art other than what I mentioned already. Fabok does a good job bookending The Man of Steel and Ivan Reis does the work of his career anchoring Superman (special props to Reis as well for drawing the first ever non-Steve Rude interesting-looking take on Metropolis), and meanwhile you’ve got Jim Lee, Jose Luis Garcia Lopez, Doc Shaner, Steve Rude, Kevin Maguire, Adam Hughes, Patrick Gleason, Yanick Paquette, Ryan Sook, Brandon Peterson, and David Lafuente doing their own parts.

* Closely related to the art, all the little flourishes with the powers. Super-speed having a consistent visual with the background coloring changing, Clark internally putting numbers to the degrees of force behind his punches and what situations which numbers are appropriate for, ‘skidding to a halt’ mid-flight before crashing through a window, the shonen-ass major throwdowns as portrayed by Reis, how his super-hearing is handled as a prevalent element. Lots of clever bits that added flavor to what he does.

* While Unity Saga has problems, the whole of what Bendis does in Superman as a means of forward momentum for Clark and his world is excellent. The sort of three-act structure of: 

** Clark is led to question his place in things over the course of a few adventures

** Involvement in the larger cosmos and the impact it has had through and on his family makes him realize the answer to his questions is that he needs to step up in a bigger way because there’s no benevolent larger universe to welcome Earth with open arms, nor a cosmic precedent for everything turning out for the best without some help

** As a consequence of the lessons learned by this change in the status quo Clark is inspired to make his own personal change in revealing his identity (with Mythological basically being an epilogue showcasing a ‘standard’ standalone Superman adventure while simultaneously highlighting his new status quo and how it fits in as a summing-up of Bendis’s take)

…does a great job of shepherding through ideas that lend a lot of forward momentum to Superman of the kind he hasn’t seen in a long time. Not perfect, but far lesser stories with far lesser ambitions have made huge impacts, so I’d certainly hope at least some of this sticks around even if, say, regardless of any retcons to the main line there are always going to be stories with Clark as a disguise and Jon as a kid. Oh, speaking of whom,

* KISS MY ASS, EVERYTHING WITH JON KENT RULED

Ahem. Probably a less confrontational way of putting that.

Do I think there was more gas in the tank for Jon as a kid? Totally, making him likeable and viable was the one really good thing the Rebirth era accomplished for Superman and I expect we’ll continue seeing more of it in the future one way or another. But whether or not him being aged up was Bendis’s decision, or working with marching orders to set up the eventually-(kinda-)discarded 5G, the coming of age narrative here is fire. He keeps the essential Clark Kent kindness and bit of Lois Lane cheekiness that reminds you he’s still their kid, which is a combination Bendis is basically precision-crafted to write, but his trials by fire give him a background entirely unlike the by-the-numbers “and here’s how Superman’s great kid grew up to be a great superhero too” narrative you’d expect while still arriving at that endpoint. If superheroes live and die by metaphors then Jon in here is what it means to grow up written as large as possible: leaving home for the first time (and seeming to shoot up overnight!), getting into the muck of how the real world works, being beaten down by authority wearing faces you’ve been taught to trust, scrambling to get through with the whole world against you, and in the end getting through by learning to rely on your own strength while keeping your soul intact and your head held high, and even managing to speak some truth to power. It gives him a well-defined life story with room to go back to and explore the intricacies of each leg of for decades to come in a way Superman hasn’t had since the original Crisis - someone someday is going to write a The Life & Times Of The Son Of Superman miniseries and it’s going to be one of the greats - and negates any question that he’s earned his stature as the heir apparent.

* Coming out of this, Superman’s world is fascinating. He’s out but rather than giving up his day-to-day life he’s openly spending part of his life as CLARK KENT: SUPER-REPORTER and part of his job on the cape-and-tights side of things is now KAL-EL: SUPER-SPACE-DIPLOMAT, Lois Lane coruns a foundation helping people whose personal continuities have been fucked over by Crisis shenanigans, Jimmy Olsen owns the Daily Planet but is still doing Jimmy Olsen stuff because that’s how he gets his kicks, and Jon Kent is going to college in the future. I’m not anywhere near naïve enough to think that’s how things are going to be forever, or shortsighted enough to think there’s no value left in the traditional setups, but god I hope these developments stick around for a long, long time to come and potentially become the new ‘normal’ as far as the ongoing shared universe stuff goes, because it all feels like the right and promising next steps to take for the lives of these characters. However it got here, for all the pluses and minuses along the way even if I maintain the former very much outweighed the latter as a reading experience, Bendis has a lot to be proud of if that’s the legacy he leaves on these titles.

* The recap pages at the desks!

[sailorspazz]

10 Dance Vol. 6 Special Edition overview

Volume 6 of the 10 Dance manga was released in Japan on March 18th, 2021. As with volumes 4 and 5, there are both regular and special editions available. In this post, I will provide an overview of the release, including observations on changes that were made to the chapters compared to how they were printed in the magazine, plus summaries and select scans of content from the special edition booklet.

It is often the case that when chapters come out in the manga magazines, they aren't always fully polished, and since I became highly familiar with this run of chapters from the summaries I made, several things immediately jumped out at me as I went through the book. First of all, though chapter 29 was split into two parts and released in subsequent months in the magazine, these two halves were combined into one chapter, with no indication they had ever been separate. I assume that they were always intended to be one chapter, but since the full chapter was not completed before the deadline (and it was a month when 10 Dance was being given the cover image, so not possible to delay its release), it was simply split over two months instead.

For visual changes, the most common alteration was scenes that originally had little or no screentone having it added in:

There were also some instances of either slight panel redraws, or complete replacements with new panels. None of these were from particularly important scenes, so it could just be Inouesatoh or someone on her team didn't like the look of the original panels and wanted to change them. The following example has a bit of both, with Suzuki in the upper left corner being replaced, and his eyes being redrawn in the lower panel:

Personally, the most amusing addition I noticed was when Max was thinking about throwing a party. Originally, we didn't see what he was envisioning, but in the volume, an addition has been made in the background: the New Year's piece Inouesatoh drew with sexy men dressed as cows, except now they're bunnies!

As for dialogue, it appeared to be almost the same in both versions throughout. Some minor exceptions include a spot I found where the dialogue was put in a different order, swapping Sugiki’s lines between this panel and his first line on the following page (in addition to another altered panel example):

As well as in this shot of Suzuki describing how they tug at the thread that connects them through their dance. Whereas before it put the word “dance” next to the part about tugging on the thread to specify what was meant by that, it was deleted in the volume. And while it was originally described as “affirming that we’re connected”, this was also tweaked a bit to be, “affirming our connection”.

There were a couple instances of character names being different from when they appeared earlier in the story. In this volume, two characters who were last mentioned back in volume 2 (Lucas Calvo, one of the champions at the table in Blackpool, and Deeks, who Ernie said hated Sugiki because he "stole" his girlfriend), either from typos or intentional changes, weren't the same as before. Lucas' last name was written with a 'g' sound (ガルボ) instead of a 'c' (カルボ), and this change carried over to the volume. On the other hand, Deeks' (ディクス) name got transposed as Disc (ディスク) in the magazine, but was fixed in the volume.

There was a typo that unfortunately made it through to the volume (but could perhaps be fixed in future printings). In chapter 34, when Norman is testing Suzuki's skills, he flashes back to Sugiki taking the national title from him several years earlier. The text in this scene, written in English, incorrectly states that Suzuki won the championship, rather than Sugiki.

The volume also includes the usual additions that are not present in the magazine, such as the under the cover flap comic, and Inouesatoh’s notes about each chapter.

The cover flap comic (which looks very much like a sketch, compared to previous ones that have had more complete art), features the Shinyas during a practice session earlier on in the series in December, where Suzuki complains that Sugiki’s Latin just isn’t sexy. Sugiki suggests that he can practice being sexy by wiggling his butt around to write a message in the air. Suzuki worries that if he starts writing out “love” or something, he’ll have to run away and escape. Sugiki gets started, and Suzuki calls out each letter that he can make out from his elegant butt bouncing. After figuring out he’s written “M-E-R-R-Y”, Suzuki guesses that he’s writing “Merry Christmas”. Sugiki gets mad that he said it aloud before he finished writing his message, and says he’s going to leave. Suzuki says, “Wait, I love you,” as narrative text says that this somehow turned into a love story in one panel.

And here are some tidbits I found interesting/amusing from the chapter notes:

She thinks readers who are fans of pecs will like Saichi.

She’s not sure if readers will love Max or hate him, but she personally likes him (sorry Sensei, I kinda hate him lol)

As of chapter 32, a portion of the art is now done digitally.

The epic “last dance” scene from 33 was something that she had planned since the beginning of the series, and it ended up being 8 times the cost for a typical chapter.

Special edition booklet:

The special edition comes with a 48 page hardcover booklet that includes a variety of different extras, divided into 8 sections called “heats”.

Heat 1 is a newly drawn, 12 page parody manga. Back in September 2020, Inouesatoh put out a request on Twitter for fans to send in their suggestions for an erotic side story. Putting the characters in a high school setting was the most requested scenario, so she chose this idea as the basis for the story. The title is “And All That Jazz” (the premise makes this somewhat confusing to summarize, so keep in mind that I’ll mostly be describing their actions based on the soul rather than the body, but will use quotation marks if it’s about other characters and who they think they’re addressing. It’ll all make sense, I promise...I think :P)

(The title page actually depicts the ending of the story, so I’ll come back to it later). It starts with Suzuki narrating his introduction, saying that he’s a transfer student to the Standard Academy. He really doesn’t get along with a guy named Sugiki, but for some reason, the two have now switched bodies with each other. Sugiki opens his shirt and inspects his new physique in front of other students, as Suzuki yells out asking what the hell he’s doing to his body. They look at themselves wearing each other’s expressions, Sugiki seeming surprised his mouth can gape open like that, and Suzuki wondering what happened to his body’s facial expression muscles. The bell rings and Sugiki heads off to class, as Suzuki is baffled that he can act so calm about this.

Sugiki perfectly reads a passage aloud in English class, something everyone (including the teacher, who looks like Norman) find unusual coming from “Suzuki”, as they wonder where his usual hearts are. Suzuki makes the decision to enjoy living as Sugiki for a bit, and is shown getting flirty with several girls. He notes that the more serious personality in his regular body is also strangely popular, though with a very different crowd.

A student named Alberko (Alberto in a girl’s uniform) shows up and says that “Sugiki” was supposed to have lunch with her(?) today. Suzuki says that he thought Alberko was going out with Dorou (a masculine alteration to Dolores’ name). Ernie and Suzuki watch as his harem falls apart with Alberko running amok. Ernie comments that both “Sugiki” and that transfer student have been acting weird all week, and he asks if something happened. Suzuki internally reflects back to one week earlier, when he was relaxing in bed in the infirmary. Sugiki comes in and accuses him of skipping class, and Suzuki tells him to mind his own business. He thought this would turn into one of their usual fights, but he can’t believe that actually happened instead...

After school, Sugiki asks Suzuki if they can go home together today. As they’re walking, Suzuki asks if Sugiki realizes what it was that made them switch places, and Sugiki says he does. Suzuki says that in that case, they know how they need to fix it, and they should go over to his house. Sugiki asks for clarification of whose house exactly he means by that.

As they start to get undressed, Suzuki says that he always thought his mom and sisters were annoying, but after a week apart he really misses them. Sugiki promises that he’ll make sure he can see them soon. Suzuki claims that he’ll be the one making Sugiki come, and Sugiki asks how he can talk like that when he was the one who looked like he was about to cry when Sugiki first touched him in the infirmary.

Sugiki peeks into Suzuki’s pants and wonders if he won’t get hard unless he touches him. Suzuki thinks it’d be weirder if he could get hard while looking at his own face, and wonders if Sugiki has AI in his crotch or something (Sugiki contends that it’s not his body). They fool around with each other until they finish, and Suzuki wonders why they didn’t change back yet. Sugiki suggests that maybe it needs to be just like the last time to count as a complete set, when they went at it until they fell off the bed, so both agree that they need to go for one more round. This then ties back to the title page, where they’ve finally managed to get back into their old bodies, but have now sprouted cat ears and tails.

Heat 2 of the booklet is 8 pages long, and contains short comics and illustrations that were not previously included in the volume releases. The comics include “How to 10 Dance”, a one-page comic with the Shinyas demonstrating the tango. Their privates end up touching, and Sugiki seems highly amused, gleefully asking Suzuki how it feels. Suzuki says that he was the one who got all bent out of shape over that back in volume 1, and tells him to lay off the sadist mode since they’re not dancing Latin right now. The second comic is “2nd Step”, and shows a glimpse of how the Shinyas were with each other after Suzuki gave the go-ahead for kissing. In fact, Sugiki ends up kissing him so much that Suzuki’s lips get sore and swollen. Sugiki then tries to kiss his neck as an alternative, but Suzuki’s not having it. The third comic depicts Suzuki’s first time in a public bath, where he realizes that Japanese people aren’t fully shaved everywhere like he is. Some of the old guys talk to him and slap their balls with their towels, and Suzuki, seeming a bit confused, gives his own balls a slap, too. After the comics are a selection of illustrations that were never used in the volumes, including this one from a Real 10 Dance event in 2018:

Heat 3 is 18 pages, and contains a variety of colored versions of both chapter covers and scenes from the manga, a couple of which I’ll share below:

Heat 4 includes 3 pages of insight from the professional dancers who consult for the manga, in which they explain the moves shown in specific panels.

Heat 5 is a single page look at Inouesatoh’s work space.

Heat 6 is 3 pages worth of advertisements that have been used to promote the series, including things like ads that were posted in subway stations:

Heat 7 is a single page look at the storyboard for chapter 1 of the manga.

Heat 8 is a single page showing the covers for foreign editions of the manga (Taiwanese, Korean, North American, and French).

Finally, there’s one last page with a thank you message from Inouesatoh, including an absolutely precious illustration of the Shinyas in happier times.

And that’s that! This really is an incredible release, and I’d definitely recommend picking up the special edition if you can. CD Japan offers direct international shipping, and I’ve also seen that Kinokuniya lists it as “available to order” currently (though they don’t appear to have stock on hand, so might take longer).

[ofmermaidsandmarauders]

the road less taken looks real good now

hope you enjoy this attempt at taylor swift/evermore inspired Jily smut!!

read on AO3 or FFN

If you had asked Lily where she thought she would see James Potter again, the last place she would have said was running into him as she turned the corner on her way to the little market next to the cinema. And yet, he was exactly who she collided with, his arms catching her just before she fell back and her bottom landed on the hard cement.

"Alright, Evans?" His cheeky grin and rosy cheeks drew her attention first, her eyes then sliding up that slightly crooked nose to meet his gaze. It was cold outside, but that wasn't what caused the shiver that ran down her spine, his eyes alight with that same mischievousness they held when she first met James at eleven years old, almost ten years ago now.

"Yeah, I'm just fine," she reassured him softly as her hands gave his shoulders a slight squeeze, "thank you."

'It's… wow. It's really good to see you," James admitted, the right side of his mouth lifting just a little higher than the left as his gaze raked over her body, setting her upright so his arms could fall pathetically back to his sides. "Like, really good to see you."

Lily thought of that night after graduation, the memory of their legs curled together under her bed sheets causing another chill to run down her spine. They had agreed to keep in touch, explore where this future between them could go, but then apprenticeships and family needs cropped up, too much time and space passed and the idea of James and Lily finding a future together had passed by, a missed opportunity.

Looking up at James' warm smile and tall stature, she wondered for a brief moment what their lives would have been like should they have traveled that road together. Would she be feeling so lonely this holiday season? Or would there have been a happier alternative in her path?

"It's good to see you too, James. I was just nipping over to the market for a few items to make Christmas cookies while I'm home for the holidays. Wait, wait, wait…" Lily paused, not even noticing that they had picked up their paces, walking towards the market as if on autopilot together. "What are you doing here in Bamburgh?"

James peered down at her, shoving his hands into his pockets as he pondered over his answer.

"My parents passed away about eight years ago now. Usually I spend the holidays with the lads, or with Remus' family, or just with Sirius, but with the two of them finally getting their shit together and coupling up, it felt a bit more like intruding. My parents always had a little cabin out this way on the coast, but we never visited much. I remembered coming here as a young boy and thought I'd try to clean it up and just have a solitary Christmas."

"Oh." This was the only thing Lily could think of to say, her mind going blank as she tried to process the fact that James Potter's family had owned a home in her small town, and yet the two had never run into one another until that day on the Hogwarts Express, his little body barrelling into hers at lightning speed. Her mouth quirked up at the memory and she peered up at him now. No, he was no longer that little boy. He was not even that boy of eighteen, the one who had whispered sweet nothings into her ear and promised her the world if they could just find a way to make it work.

She had always assumed that if he had meant what he said, he'd have found a way to make it work. Her own insecurities had interfered in her own efforts, causing her to wait patiently until she had to finally accept that James hadn't truly felt as strongly as she had led herself to believe.

And that was okay. Lily had moved on after a little time licking her wounds. The rejection had only stung for a short while.

"Hey, I have to head back but… you should stop by later if you've got some extra Christmas cookies," James told her, his hand reaching up to gently hold her elbow, guiding her to face him once again. "And just because I'd really like to see you again."

"A-alright," Lily stammered, surprising herself by her own quick agreement. "I'd really like that too."

"Great, hold on. Let me just…" James maneuvered and dug around in his pockets until he found some scrap of paper in his wallet, his mouth moving silently as an address slowly etched itself on the little white scrap. He handed it over with a cheeky grin, his impressive display of wandless magic completed.

"I'll be by later this evening," Lily told him, fingers grazing his own as she took the slip of paper, pocketing it slowly. She hadn't been expecting the warm zing of pleasure that shot up her arm just from their fingers brushing together in the cold.

James backed away, grinning brightly as he rounded the corner once more and she was able to head towards the market once more, her mind now cloudy with thoughts of what ifs.

______________________________

"Hello?" Lily called out as she trudged up the driveway, the keys to her mom's car jingling in one hand, a plastic-wrapped tray of various cookies held in the other. One upside to being muggleborn was definitely the additional travel options, Lily thought to herself. "James, open the door! My hands are full!"

"Hey there!" James' voice rang out from the left side of the house, appearing just a second after she registered where he was. "Sorry, I was doing some work clearing out the weeds in the garden. Hard to do with layers of snow covering the area, but luckily for me, my parents got this place knowing it was set away from the muggles so I can still use my wand." James wiped his hands off on his dark jeans before gesturing for her to follow him inside.

Lily was having trouble wrapping her mind around this grown up version of James. He came across as so responsible and mature, though what else should she have expected? She scolded herself for expecting that he would still be that same eighteen year old she had started to envision a life with.

"These look incredible," James complimented as he gently slid the tray out of her hand and carried it into the kitchen.

"James, it smells incredible in here," she breathed out as the scents of various spices filled her nose. She could see the small pot on the stovetop and the oven light was on, indicating that there was a dish being kept warm inside.

"I just made us a spiced carrot and lentil soup, and a small roast chicken and vegetables. You brought the real goods though," James informed her, a wide grin on his face as he silently waved his wand, conjuring two table settings, the bottle of wine already uncorked that poured itself two healthy glasses of wine. "I'm sorry, I assumed you'd join me for dinner. I hope that's alright."

"It's perfect. It really does smell good. I'm sure it tastes great too," Lily reassured him as she slid her coat off, peeking around before hanging it on a small coat hook by the side door. "It's so cozy in here, not what I would have expected from a Potter family vacation home."

James laughed softly at the joke, offering her the glass of wine before shrugging. "It's not big at all. That's probably why we didn't come here often. Mum loved the extravagance of the larger homes and resorts. Dad was the one who liked the quiet bliss that the coast offered. I think this was one of his ideas. I didn't get it when I was little… but I do now."

Lily let the words settle in, taking a small sip of the wine.

"I was bored the few times we came here as a child. I had so much energy, y'know? I needed a friend to play with and something to keep me entertained at all times. Now that I'm older I crave the quiet sometimes. Everything gets to just be so loud and I can manage but I just need a few minutes to catch my breath sometimes."

James' words kept Lily quiet, letting the thoughts flicker through her mind as she imagined this new James and tried to merge it with the James she knew. "Yeah, I get that," she finally said.

He set about serving the soup and then carving the chicken and plating some of that as well. She watched in fascination as he did things the muggle way, a small smile on her face as he flitted around the kitchen expertly.

"I lost my wand at Sirius' for a week about six years ago. It was a nightmare," he explained as if answering a question she didn't ask. "I couldn't conjure anything, couldn't just make food in an instant, but I think I learned how nice it can be to get your hands dirty and make something on your own. I still use magic to help me out now, though."

Lily laughed at her cheeky grin and assisted him with refilling their glasses just before settling into the seat he pointed to. Settled across from him at the table, Lily had a brief flash of what life could have been.

The two passed through their meal, casually chatting and checking in with their current status. James was between "experiences," trying to find the right next move in the wizarding world that would fulfill his desires to do something good. Lily was working with some of London's most skilled healers, researching a new potion that would cure effects of dark magic that had never been explored before.

"See, that is something I've always loved about you, Evans! You could do anything you want in this world, make enormous amounts of money doing private materialistic work, and instead you want to make a true difference. Just brilliant!" James complimented before shoveling in a mouthful of chicken, finishing off his meal.

Lily's cheeks flushed, choosing to ignore the first part of his compliment. "Well, thank you. I think I'm a little selfish though. The notoriety if we can pull it off means I'll be guaranteed a job anywhere I want in the future. But thank you."

James boldly reached across the small table and took her hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He didn't drop it after squeezing, instead just holding it across the table. "You can stay, can't you? For a bit longer?"

Lily nodded quickly, not wanting this night to end. She wasn't entirely sure what they were going to do, but just being in James' presence was a warm balm on her soul. Being around her family could be draining, especially her sister and her sister's husband, and their preteen son. Ever since their father had passed, Lily's mom worked overtime at the holidays to smooth things over between her girls, trying to keep her family together.

James was offering Lily an escape from the constant stress and darkness she felt visiting her childhood home. It was the reprieve she didn't even know she wanted until it had been offered.

"I have nowhere else to be," she explained before realizing how cold that sounded. "Nowhere else I'd rather be."

James grinned at this, using his free hand to wave his wand and clear the dishes from in front of them, the tray of cookies suddenly appearing unwrapped on the small table. She grinned up at him before reaching for a peanut butter ball, his own settling on a gingerbread man.

He used his grip on her hand to ease her out of her seat, guiding her towards the little sitting area that he had near the back of the house. It was a small room, two bookcases settled on either side of the large window that framed the lake. There was a small couch and coffee table, a rug underneath that made the room feel warmer somehow. The fireplace sat on the left of the couch, a small blaze already going, built up by a flick of James' wand to warm the room just a bit more.

Lily was unsure what to do with herself before deciding that she wanted to just enjoy this space with James for a short while, so she let her feet carry her to the couch, curling them beneath her as she sat. Her body was aimed towards the empty space beside her, waiting patiently for James to take the hint and fill the seat. When he did so, her grin grew that much brighter.

"If you had asked me earlier what my plans were for tonight, this is the last thing I would have expected," he admitted, his cheeks tinged pink, though she blamed that warmth on the fire. His eyes met hers and she felt her own cheeks flush, though that warmth could be blamed solely on James' burning gaze.

"Me either," she told him softly, a shaky hand bringing the wine glass to her lips. "But I'm glad that we're both here."

Lily licked her lips and she watched as James' eyes dropped to her mouth as her tongue poked out just slightly. She heard the hitch in his breath and felt a slow burning in the pit of her stomach mixed with anxiety, wondering if this was going to end up being a mistake.

"I... '' Lily stopped herself with a shake of her head, glancing up at James nervously. His hand reached up to push back a lock of hair that had fallen out of her long braid, letting his fingers tentatively trail down her cheek, thumb tracing along her jaw. Her breath was caught in her throat and for a split second she wasn't sure if she would ever breathe again. "I'm leaving on Tuesday. I have to leave immediately after the holiday to return to work. I… I can't stay."

"I know," he breathed out, face inching closer to hers. "I know you have to be back, but we could… this could be just a thing we do. Right?"

The husky tone of his voice was driving Lily mad. She wanted to lean forward and accept whatever was about to happen, but she stopped herself and tried to let rational thoughts process in her mind. She knew the hurt she had felt last time they parted, but she hadn't been prepared for that rejection. This time she could protect herself, and her heart. Lily would know exactly what was happening this time and could stop herself from getting in too deep.

Yes, it would be just fine this time. They both knew this was just for the weekend. Something to get them through the holidays until they returned to their individual lives.

Lily leaned forward the rest of the way, feeling the way that James' fingers clenched against her jaw in response to her lips meeting his. They hadn't kissed in almost ten years and yet it was like riding a bicycle with how easily she fell back into a rhythm. Her head tilted just slightly to avoid nudging his glasses, her mouth opening beneath his for only a second before James pulled away.

She felt her mouth forming a slight pout, but James just smirked as he took the wine glasses and set them onto the coffee table before letting his hands slip down her waist until he was gripping her hips tightly.

"Only for the weekend," Lily spoke firmly, her fingers itching to touch him again. She had memorized his body at eighteen, let it be a memory of hers that lingered in the back of her mind for those nights when she felt so lonely and wanted to conjure up a dream that would keep her warm at night, hand shoved into her pants as she frantically tried to remember what it had felt like to be so cherished.

Over the years, the memory of him had faded and felt icky to use as she grew older. Lily had always tried to imagine what he would look like now, but as her hands slid beneath his shirt, nothing had prepared her for this adult James.

His own hands slid beneath her shirt, his thumbs stroking at the ridges along her spine. "You're too skinny, I'm afraid you'll shatter in my arms."

Lily pulled away to laugh at his comment, her face lighting up as the tension between them broke. There was something about James that made her feel at ease, even when he was being serious.

"I'm not that fragile. You can be rough with me," her voice was breathy as she leaned in once more, a groan falling from James' lips as she spoke.

"You can't say shit like that to me, Evans," James muttered darkly, his fingers pressing roughly against her spine to bring her closer. Lily took it a step further, climbing into his lap so that her thighs were framing his own. Their bodies aligned tightly together, faces only inches apart.

"And why not?" she whispered, lightly kissing his lower lip, allowing a faint smile to spread across her mouth. A sound that Lily could only describe as a growl came from him as he fervently kissed her, hands now sliding down to grip her arse. This was the answer to her question. A passionate, anxious, feverish kiss.

Her own hands slid from his biceps to his shoulder to his hair, gripping it tightly as if it were an anchor, not allowing him to move away. Though, it didn't seem that he had any intention to.

Lily felt like her body was on fire everywhere his hands touched. They were roaming over her frantically, like he was afraid that she would slip away at any given moment. They finally settled back on her bottom, giving it a firm squeeze before guiding her hips to slant over his just so. She could feel the hard press of him against her core, feel the way that her body ached in reaction to that gentle cant of his hips, lifting slightly to meet her own subtle thrusts.

"Lily, please," he begged, letting a hand slip to the hem of her thick sweater, tugging at it gently until she nodded, allowing her arms to lift up so he could tug it over her head. A few wisps of hair fell from her braid at the sudden friction of material, though her body felt cooled off by the slight chill in the air. Lily peeked over and realized the fire had died down again, though she was distracted once more as James' fingers unclasped her bra from behind and the straps slid down her arms with his guidance. His hands quickly replaced the cups, her nipples hardening beneath the rough texture of his palms.

A soft moan slipped from her lips as his fingers began to stroke in even circles, slowly tightening until they were tugging at her nipples in that way she liked.

"James," her voice was a harsh croak as she leaned forward, capturing his mouth in another kiss, letting her hands slip beneath his own shirt. She pulled it up, separating from his mouth only to pull it off. Her tongue probed at his mouth, wanting to taste every inch of him. If he was desperate to feel, she was desperate to taste.

James hands' never stopped their assault on her breasts, palming and tugging at her nipples until she was squeezing her thighs together, only his own were getting in the way. Instead, she began to slowly press herself down against his length, needing to feel something more than what he was doing. One of his hands moved from her breast up to cup the back of her head, his fingers probably messing up her braid, but she didn't quite mind.

Lily felt the groan that he let out, not just against her mouth, but beneath her hands that were pressed to his own chest. That firm chest that had only strengthened over time. A shiver ran down Lily's spine as his mouth pulled back from hers with a tug to her bottom lip using his teeth. Those teeth that scraped down her neck, sucking gently and peppering kisses until he reached her chest. His tongue poked out and circled once, twice, around the flesh until he sucked at her nipple. She gasped, both hands gripping the back of his head, keeping him pressed there as she arched up towards his mouth.

"James, please," she whimpered, her voice hoarse as she straddled one of his thighs, trying to press herself against it through her thin leggings. She knew that she was soaked through, desperate for his touch.

"What do you need?" he asked after pulling away from her chest, letting the hand that had been in her hair travel down her back and around then around to her stomach until it reached the waistband of her leggings. His fingers moved just beneath it, slowly inching towards the one place that was taking up all of her focus.

"Please," Lily breathed out, lifting her hips up to try to make room for his fingers, but he insisted on teasing her, letting them just stroke against the front of her pelvis, not even sliding beneath the thin silk of her underwear. "James, please. I need to feel you inside me."

James choked on a moan, bringing a smile to Lily's lips that quickly turned into a soft "oh" as his fingers slid lower and pressed against her through the fabric, index and middle finger rubbing in small circles. It wasn't enough, but it was more than she had a minute ago and that was progress.

"Oh," she breathed out again, clutching the back of his head once more as she tried to move her hips, though he steadied her with his free hand, keeping her in place. Lily hated how needy she felt, how much her body craved the feeling of his own.

James pulled his hand out suddenly, her face falling once more at the loss of contact. He only kissed her, distracting her long enough until he was suddenly standing, hands holding onto her arse for support as he began to carry her towards his bedroom. Lily began to pepper kisses along his jaw and neck, too distracted to notice which way he was walking them.

She squealed in delight as he tossed her down onto the bed, his own laugh bouncing off of the walls before he grew serious once more, climbing over her on the bed. His body encased hers, providing a shelter from the cold as he let one hand slide down to her hip, pushing her pants lower until she took the hint and assisted him in getting them off. Her own hands then went to the button on his jeans, pulling it open so that she could push the material down his legs, letting her feet finish the job until they were on the floor somewhere by the side of the bed.

Their breaths were heavy as he leaned down and kissed her once more, left hand sliding beneath her panties once more until a single finger was pressing inside of her.

"Fuck, Lily. You're so wet." He sounded incredulous as he began to slowly curl that finger and then pull it out before pushing it back in. His finger moved in slow strokes as she began to pant, lifting her hips in time with the pushing, lowering them with the pulling.

"It's for you," Lily whimpered, clutching onto his shoulders as she tried to get him to give her more. She just needed more of him. "James, please. Stop teasing me!"

"Anything for you, Evans," his cheeky grin made her giggle as he slid his briefs down his body, kicking them off somewhere before kneeling before her, spreading her legs with both of his hands. "Fuck, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Lily keened at the compliment, her lips already flushed from activity, though she was sure they'd be red at his words.

"I'm - I take a contraceptive. You don't need to… We're covered," she finally admitted, tugging him back down by wrapping her spread legs around his waist so that their bodies were aligned once more. Lily let her hips lift until the tip of his cock was gently pressing inside of her, slipping out as she lowers her hips again. James seems frozen for a moment and this scares her, but he must see the look on her face because he lowers his mouth to hers and just kisses her until that anxiety is quelled.

When it's obvious that she's putty in his hands once again, nerves calmed down by the soothing action of his lips and tongue, his hips press forward until he's filling her. It's agonizingly slow until their hips are tight together and he breaks their kiss to let out a loud groan against her mouth.

"You're… Fuck, I… You…" James is speechless and this makes Lily giggle fiercely until he's pulling out halfway and then pressing back in, as if he can't bear to even be separated from her for that much. "I've never wanted anyone the way I want you, Evans."

"Oh, gods, James," Lily moans as she pressed her hands into his shoulder blades, wanting his body to press into hers completely. She wants to feel every inch of him against her, wants to memorize the way he feels as he's inside her fully. This ache that she's had since seeing him again feels like it's starting to be sated.

As if something has broken inside his body, James begins to thrust in and out, his hips moving at their own pace. Lily feels like her body is connected to his by a string, because everytime he goes to move, her hips are there to meet his at each thrust.

"Nobody but you, Evans. Nobody has ever felt this good. Fuck, nobody. Fuck," James rambled, each thrust feeling like it's not enough and too much all at once for her. Lily wants to come, wants to feel her world fall apart, so she slips a hand between their bodies and reaches down to where their hips meet. Before she can accomplish this, his hand is there, pushing hers away.

"No, this is mine to give," he whispered, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth as he let his fingers find where they met, rubbing small circles against her clit as she felt a tidal wave of pleasure wash over her body in waves, that pit in her stomach tightening as she tried to just reach that point of pleasure.

James seemed to understand what her body needed because he continued to thrust in a way that was getting her to that point until her toes curled and her heels were digging into his hips harshly.

"James, oh, oh," her voice was like a siren's call because within an instant he was meeting her in a wave of pleasure, his back arched as he groaned and spilled inside of her.

"Lily," was the only thing he whispered before giving her another kiss, pulling out of her body in one smooth motion, using wandless magic to summon a warm towel and a wet washcloth. Just as he took care of her during the act, James made sure to take gentle care of her in the clean up, just enough, before allowing her to use the bathroom to finish up.

Lily took one look in the mirror, her braid now half pulled out of its form and eyeliner smudged beneath her lids. She giggled to herself as she used the toilet and then wet another washcloth to wipe under her eyes. Lily dug around until she found a comb and was able to brush out her hair into soft waves, letting them fall down her back.

She felt self conscious reentering the room, though the wide grin on James' face as he gestured for her to join him in the bed washed that feeling away, replacing it with a warmth that his grin always seemed to bring.

"That sure was something, Evans," James teased, leaning over once she had joined him again to press a soft kiss to her mouth. "You sure are something."

Lily could only let out a breathy giggle as she laid on her back for a moment, trying to wrap her mind around what the fuck had just happened. Sure, she knew what was going to happen, but somehow they had ended up naked and in bed together much faster than she realized. There hadn't been any time for thinking, and that was honestly the best feeling.

"Hey, you okay?" James' voice broke through her ocean of thoughts. She felt the corners of her mouth tilt up and she nodded quickly, a glow overtaking her as his hands slid down to her hips, bringing her closer to his body until she could tuck her face into the crook of his neck. Lily cocooned herself into his body, letting him lift a sheet over her.

"I'm okay," she finally responded, the index finger on her left hand circling around his nipple, though she wasn't fully paying attention to her actions. "I'm good."

"You looked like you regretted it, for a minute there," James sounded nervous as he admitted to this and she peeked up at him from her hiding spot, watching the nerves in his eyes disappear as she offered up a genuine smile, letting her mouth press gently to his jaw.

"No regrets, it was good. You were good." Lily's voice sounded assured and it was a surprise to her how comfortable she felt laying here with James.

"Not even one?"

"Nope, not a single one. It was good, James."

James seemed content at that, the hum he released vibrating against her cheek which had returned to his solid chest. The pair laid contentedly for some time before James broke them out of their reverie. His hands had been sliding up and down her back, fingers tracing along the ridges of her spine until she was almost ready to fall asleep.

"I regret that we never made it work. That we didn't try harder. I should've tried harder for you," James told Lily, letting his hands continue in their soothing patterns on her skin. His voice sounded pained and Lily wasn't too sure how she wanted to answer.

I wish the same? It's fine, don't worry about it? I should've tried harder but my crippling anxiety and insecurities got the best of me until I gave up on the idea of us?

No - definitely not that last one.

Instead, Lily settled for an uncommitted hum instead, just letting him interpret what he wanted from that.

"I'm serious, Lily. You're the one person I've never been able to get past. Everyone dims compared to you. I meant what I said back in those days, and I should've tried harder to show you that."

As if dipping her head into a pensieve, Lily was taken back to the last time they had been curled up in bed like this:

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life, Lily." James' words captured her heart as he slid his fingers down her body, tracing the curves of her thighs before pulling them around his waist so he could have her body wrapped around his own.

"Stop it," Lily admonished, cheeks burning from the compliment.

"I mean it. I've loved you for years, probably since the day I met you. Maybe even before we met. I was made to love you. I can't imagine a world without you in it. I can't imagine my life without you in it, Lily Evans."

"James, you're just saying that because I let you have sex with me."

"No, that's not true! I mean it," James pouted as he spoke, only smiling once Lily kissed the pout away. "When we leave here, wherever we go, I want to make this work. I want to marry you one day, have you take my last name, become a family. I want to be a dad and have kids with you. I want a life with you, Lily Evans. You're it for me."

Despite his words, James had never sought her out after that final encounter. They had never even spoken after that day, separated by time and space and people who wanted to keep them apart. An impending war, one that was completed just a month after graduation. One that James had been ready to throw himself into, and one Lily had been scared to join but knew it was the only way to move forward.

The day she had met with Dumbledore and he told her that the fight was over, that they had won, he provided her with a top notch recommendation to one of the world's most well-renowned potioneers. That month had been a rush of emotions as she prepared to battle (and lose her life) only to come to terms with the fact that she no longer needed to. She had an entire future ahead of her and yet there she was, trying to figure out how she was supposed to spend a life she never thought she'd be entitled to have.

"Where'd you go just now?" James asked, stroking through her hair until he let his hands fall down to her lower back, slowly inching until he was gripping her bottom, pulling her tightly to him.

"I was just thinking about how long it's been since we last saw each other. How much you've changed." Lily's words were a lie and for a minute she thought he'd call her out on it, but he chose not to, instead letting his mouth move down to her neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly, fingers combing through his hair.

"Pulling you out of your own thoughts until you can think of nothing but me and you. Here. In this bed." James sounded firm as his mouth slowly kissed down to her chest. She moaned softly as he nipped the soft flesh on her breast before lapping at the mark, as if he was going to heal the pain she felt. His lips wrapped around her nipple, but Lily was still trying to get herself to think straight.

"I can hear your brain starting to smoke," James whispered before blowing over her breast, the peak hardening under his cool breath.

"Shut up," Lily muttered uselessly, having no brain power to think of something more insulting.

James just grinned and continued his assault on her body, moving lower and lower until her fingers were tangled in his hair and his mouth was working wonders.

Later, his cheek was pressed to her stomach, hand pressed to her hip so that she wouldn't go anywhere. Her fingers combed through James' hair slowly, trying to muster up the strength to ask him to move so she can get dressed and go home.

"Stay for the night," he whispered, as if reading her mind. "I miss holding you. Even if it's only for the weekend."

"Okay," the word was out of her mouth before she even realized that she wanted to agree. Lily knew that she was just complicating things, but the thought of leaving this warm bed and, more importantly, leaving James just hurt to think of. It was a problem that future Lily could deal with. This Lily wanted to bask in the afterglow of climaxes and cuddling with this James.

Somehow through the night, James and Lily shifted until their legs tangled together and he was spooning her against his chest. She woke up to the light shining through the windows, unclear of what time it was. Lily thought back to last night, the amount of kissing and touching that they had done. The thought made Lily's toes curl and she pulled his arms tighter around her body as she nuzzled into the pillow.

Her movements must have woken James because she felt chapped lips pressing little sucking kisses to the back of her neck and shoulder, fingers slowly gliding down her body until James was gripping onto her hips, pulling her back so that their bodies stayed connected where it counted. Lily let out a breathy sigh as he slipped his other hand in between her thighs, stroking at a lazy pace as he woke them both up. They stayed in that sleepy state, hips undulating against one another, fingers stroking inside of her until she had soaked his hand thoroughly.

James finally rolled Lily onto her back, climbing over her with a satisfied smile on his face despite the fact that nothing had truly happened yet this morning.

"Hi," he whispered, lips hovering just above hers.

"Hi," she murmured back, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

"I missed this," he admitted as he pressed the tip of his cock against her, slightly thrusting his hips as he teased her, letting the tension build. "I missed you."

"You missed the sex, you mean," Lily teased, fingers slowly climbing up his body as she spread her legs just that fraction of an inch, indicating she wanted him to move things along. He did as she silently requested, sliding inside of her at an agonizingly slow pace, wanting her to feel him as they connected.

"Well, duh, but I missed this. I missed waking up to you and spending time in this half dozed state where I can just appreciate you and it's just us two in the world." James' voice held a tone of sincerity that caused a chill to run up Lily's spine, her fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as she tried not to let the emotion completely take over.

"I-" she broke off, just pressing her lips quickly to his.

"I want a do-over. I want to do this with you every morning. There's nobody else for me, Lily," he breathed against her mouth, picking up his pace just a bit as he moved his mouth to her ear. His hips continued to move slowly in and out of her at a stuttering pace as James whispered all of his filthy thoughts into her ear:

"You're so beautiful like this."

"I love the noise you make when I push inside of you just here.. Yes, that's it."

"Fuck, moan my name. That's my girl."

"I want you to feel me. I want you to know it's only me who can make you feel like this."

"I want to love you like this forever, Lily."

Despite James' chattiness, Lily can do nothing more than make keening noises for him. She is a mess of whimpers and purrs, moans and soft cries. James has whittled her down to this voiceless void, craving only the pleasure that he can bring her.

Finally, a single cry please comes from her lips and he is right there with her, sliding a hand down between them to rub her clit in small, erratic circles until she is riding the wave of her climax, mouthing at his neck as she holds back until she feels that he is also coming, and his name falls from her mouth in a helpless cry, one of her hands tangling up in his hair as she feels tears fill her eyes.

The thought of never getting this again just may be what breaks her.

______________________________

It's only later that evening when they're curled up on the loveseat together, despite the large couch settled just to their right with almost double the space, that Lily realizes how late it's getting. He had plied her full of food and distracted her with a leisurely walk around the lakeside, before Lily was fully able to recognize just how late it had gotten.

The clock has just chimed out eight little bells, and Lily wonders how much longer she should stay.

"Stay with me for the night. There's no need for you to rush out of here," James told her, his fingers stroking down along her spine. Despite the years that separated them, he still seemed to have the ability to read her thoughts when it counted, when she wasn't consciously trying to hide them.

"I really should be going home soon," she responded, sitting up so that she could actually look into his eyes, trying to figure out how she was going to pull herself away from his embrace. James had his calves hooked around hers, and his arms were wrapped around her lower back so that she was able to lay against him almost entirely.

"Why?"

The question surprised Lily more than she anticipated, mostly because she had expected an argument in response from him. She hadn't expected to have to rationalize her own thoughts, mostly because she didn't agree with what she was saying out loud.

"I have things to get done before my parent's Christmas dinner party. I know it's not until Tuesday but I have some work I planned to attend to even though I'm supposed to be enjoying the holiday. Up until now there wasn't much about it that was enjoyable, so I figured I'd at least be productive. And this is anything but productive."

"Those all sound like things that can wait. You just said it yourself, you don't have to do it but it was something to do. Just stay here. Relax. Enjoy your holiday." With each sentence, James placed a kiss along her neck, moving lower until he was at the juncture where her neck became her shoulder. "I want another night with you. I want you in my bed, with me."

"James…" Lily breathed out, though her hands were steadily climbing until they were settled into his hair.

"I don't want to wake up alone on Christmas Eve. Stay with me for one more night, Lily." The pleading tone to his voice would have been what did her in, had she not already been trying to convince herself to stay minutes ago. Between her own convincing, and his begging, she knew that she was giving in to his request.

"I don't want to wake up alone, either." Lily admitted, not specifying that it was more than just Christmas Eve that felt lonely to her. Lily was tired of feeling alone, and if James was offering a brief respite from that feeling, who was she to deny that?

______________________________

If Lily had to put a word to her concerns, she would use the word doubt. There was so much doubt running through her head. At every little touch James left as they ate dinner or nibbled on cookies or sipped at coca. At every compliment he threw her way while they walked around the lake shore or cooked dinner or laid in bed.

The only time she felt confident in what he said was when he was buried deep inside of her in the middle of the night, the stars twinkling in the night sky as they erased the outside world and focused on one another. This was the only time he mentioned a future with her, wanting to spend a life together. She wished he had the courage to mention these things in the light of day, when their bodies weren't pressed together beneath covers and hands desperate to feel soft skin beneath their touch.

They stayed up late into the night, relearning each others' bodies. Lily was committing James' new body to memory, her hands hungry for more of him. She wanted to remember every freckle and mole, every curve and sharp plane. These memories would need to get her through the next decade.

______________________________

Late the next morning, they both awoke slowly and lazily, their bodies still curled together from the heat of the previous night. Lily had woken just moments before James and took the time to appreciate his sleepy state before his eyes blinked open and a smile formed on his face when he registered what she was doing.

"G'morning," he whispered softly, pressing his thumb to her cheek and stroking it gently until it was tracing her full lower lip.

Lily pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb before sucking it into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it gently. That teasing effort brought a groan to his lips before he was pulling it back, pressing a heated kiss to her mouth.

"You little minx," he growled, tickling her sides playfully.

How could he be so pleasant when she was leaving in just a short time?

"James," she whispered, and the tone of her voice had his body going numb, freezing up above her as his smile fell and she watched him shake his head.

"No," he replied, pressing his hips against hers, as if trying to remind her of what she could have if she agreed to stay.

"I have to go."

"Please," James pleaded, but she knew by the look on his face that he understood her mind was made up. This was a last ditch attempt at changing her mind. At trying to change the course of their separate lives.

"I have to."

The two of them stared at one another, noses brushing as their breaths mingled together in the morning sun pouring in through the window.

"I know," James finally admitted, letting his lips just barely brush over hers before standing up and helping her out of the fortress they had built with his blankets.

The two dressed silently, searching for garments and items that had been haphazardly tossed about over the weekend. Lily only smiled once when she found her underwear tucked beneath a pillow on the couch, shoved there by James at one point when he was trying to convince her to join him in the shower.

______________________________

Soon enough, her items were packed into her purse and there was no more delaying the inevitable.

They stared at one another from across the room, taking slow steps towards each other until they were both just by his front door, standing an awkward length apart. All weekend their bodies had been desperate to connect, and now it was as if they were two sides of the same battery, repelled by a single touch.

"So…" Lily finally let out, looking past James to the lakeside cabin that had been her saving grace for this solitary weekend.

James said nothing in response, just studying her face. Her eyes darted down to her feet, trying to figure out what else she could say. How could they change this?

She looked up again, hoping to see a hint of warmth in his gaze, but all she could see was a steely gaze that looked back at her. She saw no hint of the James that she had just spent an entire weekend with. Once more, her heart was cracking as she saw this potential future she had dreamed of falling to pieces right in front of her eyes.

It had been real enough just to get her through.

Lily was internally begging for James to take her hand. Squeeze it tight once more. Just once. Let her know that this wasn't just a one-sided thing. He felt it too, he had to feel it too. If he just reached out and grabbed her hand, she'd cancel her plans. She'd stay. She'd claim him as hers.

But he didn't. His hands stayed shoved into his pockets, the same as that first time she saw him again, walking in the same direction towards the market.

Had she fooled herself once again? Thinking that it was something more than it was. Lily pleaded with herself to just make the leap, damn the insecurities, take his hand and jump over the ledge. All she had to do was cross that line. Instead, her own hands hung loosely in front of her, fingers idly tangled together with her purse hanging at her hip.

She could almost envision it, the creaking of the cabin floor as she stepped forward and begged him to come with her, to join her in London where they could create this world together that had the both of them in it. The way his arms would slowly wrap around her waist and keep her pressed against him while they whispered about how stupid they had almost been to let each other go for a second time.

She could almost see it.

"I guess… I guess I should go. I have that dinner party at my parents' tomorrow and I promised to help mom prepare for guests."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense." James whispered, looking like he was conflicted for a moment before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. Despite the warmth of his lips, her body ran cold as it was the only place their bodies met. His hands, usually desperate to touch her, stayed tucked deep into his pockets.

Lily was frozen in place for a second before realizing she would have to be the one to leave. Once again, Lily mustered up every ounce of strength she had and walked through his door, away from James and his warm bed, the cocoon they had built together that felt like a safe haven. She wiped her tears away slowly, only once that heavy door had closed behind her.

Maybe one day they'd find a way to get the timing right.

Maybe one day she'd find that Gryffindor courage she was supposedly blessed with.

Not today.

[krreader]

BTS reacting to your daughter wanting to become an idol.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: language genre: angst ; fluff word count: 2k+

a/n: sooo, I wasn’t sure if you wanted the main argument to be the dieting, but I feel like there are a lot more reasons why they’d be worried, so I hope you don’t mind me only putting diets as one of the many reasons. nevertheless, I hope you like it ♥

kim seokjin

“We were seven men and we had our own struggles. What do you think happens when it's seven women who are constantly getting compared to each other?” Jin stood in front of your daughter with his arms crossed in front of his chest, “Do you know what's going to happen? They're going to say things like: 'Oh, you've gained more weight than her, you need to be put on a diet now'.”

“I'll deal with that if it comes down to it, dad, but I'm old enough to know what I'll be putting myself through and I'm making this decision with or without your approval,” she got up and copied his pose and once again, you could see that she truly was his daughter.

You got up with a sigh, standing between the two before the argument could escalate any further.

“We're worried and you know we have every reason to be. So how about we make a deal. You do your thing, you agree and join the company, but your father is allowed to monitor everything.”

“What, like I'm a baby?! I'm 16!”

“No, like a manager,” you turned around to look at your husband, “You've been itching to work in the industry again as well, just differently this time, this would be the perfect opportunity. Sira could become the idol she wants to be without having to worry about much, because you'll take care of her like the father that you are and the manager that you could be.”

It certainly was an odd proposal, there weren't many idols that were managed by their parents, but it has happened every now and then.

And it was something that both Jin and your daughter were ultimately okay with, because they both got their ways, even if not exactly how they thought they would.

min yoongi

“Aren't you... going to say anything?” your daughter pushed her food around, her eyes on her father who wasn't looking at her at all.

You were feeding your baby to your right, your eyes switching from her to him, afraid of what this might turn into.

“So you want to become their slut.”

“Yoongi!” you immediately complained.

“No, (Y/N),” Yoongi looked up, first at you, then at your daughter, “You have no idea how fucked up this industry really is. Why do you think I left when I did? Why do you think I did everything I could to protect you from this life? Do you want to starve yourself for the rest of your life? Do you want to portray a version of yourself that you're not until the day you die?”

“I didn't do anything yet, dad! They just made an offer, I didn't say anything yet!” she was upset, clearly, “I'm sorry, I should have just said no.”

But when she started sobbing, Yoongi's hard shell broke down immediately and his shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh.

“Listen, I know you love music, but becoming an idol is not the way to go. If you're serious about music, I can help you get in touch with the right people, people that won't use you like the agencies would in a position of as an idol.”

She nodded, even though she was still crying.

Later that night, you ended up joining her in her bed, holding her close while explaining to her why Yoongi had been so upset. Why he was so scared for her and that he didn't do this to punish her, but simply to protect her.

And thankfully, she understood.

jung hoseok

“How much sleep do you get nowadays?” Hoseok asked.

“I don't know.. seven to nine hours?”

“Forget that. You'll get four if you're really lucky, two on a normal day and none if you have comebacks. How much do you weigh right now?”

“Why are you asking me this?” your daughter clearly became uncomfortable.

“Because they will be asking you. They will want to know whether to put you on a diet or not because you are 'too fat' for this industry.”

You let out a frustrated sigh and cupped your daughter's face, “He's not sugarcoating it like I would have, but he's right. This industry isn't as beautiful as you think it is and your father has seen it up close, so he’s not just saying these things to scare you off,” you kissed her forehead, “I know that you're currently in a stage of your life where you don't know what step is the next to take and I know that it's scary not to know, but please do not make any rash decisions and sign any contracts. Think about this... carefully.”

She did... because you didn't raise her to be naive and stupid.

kim namjoon

“Do you know why we disbanded, sweetheart?” Namjoon's voice was gentle, his eyes on his other daughter picking flowers in the garden.

“You... never really went into details about that,” but she was instantly curious and straightened her back, crossing her legs on the bench that she was sitting on.

“At that time, we reached the peak of our careers. There truly was nowhere else to go, but people still expected us to go higher and reach for more stars. But we were exhausted. We were.. depressed,” Namjoon's eyes flickered to you, since you had been the one to pull him out of that dark place once, “What me and your uncles have accomplished will forever be something I will cherish, but it is not a life I would wish for you. The never ending diets, the never ending stress and expectations... it's... horrible.”

“But there's perks too, right? I mean, you had amazing fans.”

“We did. And then we also had the ones that stalked us. The ones that sent us creepy letters. The ones that threatened to hurt our loved ones,” finally, he turned his head to look at her, “You and your sister should not grow up in a world like this. I want you to be able to eat what you want to eat without someone telling you that it has too many calories. I want you to be able to sleep in on the weekends after a long week of hard work. I want you to be able to go on vacations with your friends without having to worry for your safety. Do you understand what I mean?”

She didn't respond right away, but ultimately she smiled a little and nodded, “I understand, daddy.”

And boy, did you both let out a relieved sigh.

park jimin

“No,” Park Jimin was not the kind of father to say no without giving a reason, especially because he hardly could say no to his first and only daughter, the apple of his eye. But when she asked him about her possibly getting into BigHit, he instantly shut her down.

“But..-” her eyes widened, her lower lip already beginning to tremble and you, being stuck in the middle, turned your head to Jimin with a small smile, “Can you check up on Seungmin? Tell him it's almost dinner time.”

Jimin knew that you handling this conversation would be better anyways, so he did end up walking outside to check up on his son, while you turned around to your daughter and grabbed her hands, “Your father had a great life. He had a wonderful career that he doesn't regret having, but the wonderful things that you see online and hear from fans and friends and family... it wasn't always like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“When your father made his debut, he ended up struggling... a lot. Not because he wasn't good at singing, or dancing.. but because he felt like his face was too chubby. He felt like his abs weren't good enough. He felt like his legs didn't look strong enough,” when she looked confused, you kept on talking, “He went on one diet after the other and went days without eating anything, just because he felt like he had to. Now, imagine him having been a woman. And I really hate saying this in a modern time as this, but the world isn't as lenient with us as it is with men, and your father knows it, sweetheart. If one fan were to ever mention that you're one gram too heavy, the company would take it to heart and put you on a diet. And not just a diet for a week, a diet for a month, maybe a year. Your father has experienced this first hand and he just doesn't want you to live a life such as this too,” especially because she had inherited his beautiful cheeks from him and so he was worried that she’d go through the same things just because of that wonderful detail.

She hadn't known about this, because if she had, she never would have brought it up.

And after that day, after thinking about what you had said once again and after actually looking up what you had said and confirming it all, she never brought it up ever again.

And Jimin was more than glad about that.

kim taehyung

You both should have assumed that this would happen at some point.

Not only because of who Taehyung is and used to be, but because of who your daughter was. Confident, breathtakingly beautiful and talented. Of course, she'd want to pursue a career in a field such as this one.

“Listen,” Taehyung brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “You know your mother and I support you, no matter what you want to do, but this life that you're envisioning right now is not the life that you'll have.”

“He's right, sweetheart,” you sighed, “You are already struggling with keeping your life private, if you join BigHit, it'll get even worse. Then there's crazy fans, more so for you because of who your father used to be. And the diets.. the never ending diets..”

“I know you're worried and I can't blame you for it,” she grabbed her fathers hand and pulled it to her cheek, leaning against it, “But whatever happens, I know you two will have my back. That's why I want to do this, because I know that no matter what, I can always come back here and get my slice of normality and love.”

It... kind of made you really proud to hear that, even if it didn’t decrease your worries.

jeon jeongguk

BigHit had been trying to get Jeongguk to sign up your daughter ever since she was old enough to walk and talk, but he had always denied them.

Now, however, she was old enough to make her own decisions, and her saying yes, didn't come as a surprise to either of you.

“Don't you think there's a reason I kept telling them off?” Jeongguk was angry. Angry at BigHit, angry at his daughter and most importantly, angry at himself that he didn't put a stop to this once and for all, “Do you want to starve yourself for the rest of your life to be the perfect doll that they want you to be?”

But instead of yelling back, she actually listened to every little bad thing that he had to say.

Only when he let out a frustrated sigh and dropped down on the couch next to her, did she speak: “I know this isn't what either of you wanted for me and I'm sorry I'm worrying you like this, especially you dad, but this is my life and my decision.”

You decided to join in, your hand on your daughter's lower back, “It's not that we wouldn't support you, but this life is hard. We're just scared for you.”

“I know, mom,” but she was stubborn and so with one last glance at her father, she said: “I'm sorry, daddy, but it’s what I’m going to do,” and got up to go into her room.

All that Jeongguk could do now was keep BigHit in check. Every little thing they wanted to do to your daughter had to go through him.

She didn't know about this and he made sure that she never would... but it was the only way that Jeongguk would allow this to happen.