#the season 2 finale where they have to pay for all the damage they caused through out the season.

[kacievvbbbb]

Rewatching Gumball is knowing that while there is no actual real overarching plot the episodes are still so amazingly interconnected.

I love how they do foreshadowing, how they build on little moments that we see through out other episodes. It's Banana joe's mom's future paintings being a small joke in "The Shell". Rob being in the deleted place with all the forgotten things in "The Void" after we see that Gumball and Darwin have a hard time remembering him and then completely forget him once Darwin kicks him into the sewers a whole season earlier in "The Pony". He then literally still has parts of the void ingrained in his design when he comes back. It's the fact that Penny and her family being hollow shells with something inside was being played as haunting jokes for episodes before the one based entirely around it. It's the fact that characters like Sarah have always been a little fourth wall breaky and so an episode like "The Fan Fiction" is so completely in line with her character that it's unremarkable in context, hell there's an episode where she sings the ending song to end the show and avoid an awkward conversation her being able to take some control of the show feels like the natural evolution of that.

The background characters in gumball have such distinct personalities that have been pretty consistent and built upon since season 2 which is completely insane and unprecedented for an episodic 2010 children's cartoon. The show might not have had an arc but it has always been continuous.

You do really get the sense that this is a world where everyone is very hyper-aware of the rules in which they operate. The show might reset at the end of the episode but the people don't

[thegoldheartlocketandkey-blog]

911 Spoilers Season 3: You’ve been warned. 😅 Buddie Rewatch

Episode 3 (Part 1)

I originally was going to post Episode 2 and 3 together, but I forgot how much I wrote for Episode 3. In my journal I wrote 10 pages worth of notes. That was with sloppy hand writing and more mushed together words. It explains why this Episode took me a while to transcribe. I am posting Episode 3 into two parts, because for the first time ever, I’ve gone past the character limit. Which is very surprising since I have other long posts on my page and have never come close. That being said, Part 2 will be posted as soon as possible and it will be today.

Episode 3: The Searchers

We see all the damage the tsunami has caused as Buck walks around injured screaming for Christopher. He sees a dead body and right after finds Chris’ glasses. In that moment he contemplates the reality that Chris is possibly gone. Puts the glasses around his neck.

We again see a quick flash back to Buck and Chris right before the disaster.

Couple that is about to be divorced, is stuck on Ferris wheel and Bobby and Eddie approaching, we properly meet Lena. We learn that the 136 has been separated.

Lena instantly knowing Eddie has served based on his demeaner.

Lena and Eddie both jumping off the Ferris wheel at an extremely dangerous height before it collapses.

The 118 has been officially been separated. Lena and Eddie already bumping heads when it is discovered that she was injured. Bobby sends Eddie to go with her to medic in case she tries to sneak off.

Eddie tries to call Christopher but has to leave a voicemail for Buck to tell him that he is going to be late due to the emergency. He hopes Chris and him are having fun.

“He there is a kid under here!” as buck is walking past. For a moment believes it could be Chris. He helps out and to his dismay realizes it is not Chris. He begins to ask the group if any one has seen Christopher and gives a brief description. One man in the group gives him hope and tells him that he may be with the group that was headed towards the bakery. Buck starts running towards that direction.

This scene really showcases that against all odds, Buck has not given up on finding Chris alive. I never really thought the writers would kill off Christopher. It wasn’t something I’d ever want to entertain. I was 99.9% sure Chris would be found alive. I was really concerned he’d be badly injured.  

There is a family talking to Athena, asking for help. She tells them the best thing they could do is go to one of the shelters. They are a bit discourages, but grateful. There is a Spanish speaking woman who is holding a child in a red sweater.  The camera holds on her for a few seconds.

The first time watching this episode, I really did not pay much attention to this family. I was sad for them, but my concern was figuring out where and who would find Chris. Now I realize how stupid I was for overlooking this moment.

Buck is at the bakery, searching for Christopher. Finds a little boy wearing a similar shirt, runs over to him believing it is Christopher. He is of course wrong. We see him for a split-second feel defeated. A teenage boy approaches him and tells him he is bleeding. For the first time in this entire disaster, it becomes obvious that Buck has neglected himself the entire time and begins to collapse. The strangers around him catch him and sit him down. Buck looks around confused.

This scene in particular really shows us that the entire time Buck has been out there he’s been heavily focused on finding Christopher and helping other civilians. He did not for a second think about his safety or the fact that he is an anti-clotting medication.

Eddie and Lena finally make it to the VA hospital. Lena is quick to take a list from a nurse there to see if her captain has been admitted. Eddie tries to get her to focus on getting treatment. As Eddie walks Lena into the hospital, he notices a child. Lena quickly asks if he is being reminded of his son. This is when Eddie realizes that the kids is choking/drowning and sweeps into action.

Doctor asks Eddie to help out on the floor. Eddie turns to Lena and states, “Sorry, It looks like you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.” It’s flirty in tone.

I don’t know if Eddie was actually flirting. Or if Lena was ever suppose to be considered a love interest. Putting my head cannon of gay Eddie aside, I do not think this pairing would have worked out romantically. I would have loved a proper friendship. We do get to explore a possible friendship, but I’ll talk about that in later episodes. Just felt the need to state, Eddie was in fact flirting.

While Eddie is helping a patient, Lena approaches him. Lena is adamant about going back out into the disaster to find her captain. Eddie is trying to discourage her and states people are already out there looking for him.  More flirting proceeds. Honestly, it’s small banter, but the tone feels like flirting.

Eddie notices Athena and becomes concerned when he sees blood. Lena realizing her captain is being wheeled in and has been badly injured. As she goes back towards the hospital with the captain, she looks back at Eddie and they both nod at each other.

Buck’s arm has been wrapped with a random fabric in a sloppy attempt to stop his bleeding. He is still looking around for Christopher, even looking over two paramedics preforming CPR making sure the victim is not Chris.

He looks over at everyone in the tents and approaches a nurse with a list. He asks her if they have a Christopher Diaz, she says no and tells him he might want to check the black tent. The one with all the dead bodies.

At this point the first I watched this episode my 99.9% being sure that they would not kill off Christopher went down to an 80%. Was still pretty sure he would be found safe, but they had me doubting.

Buck is actively trying to fight the realization that Chris may be in one of those tents. The camera zooms into his face and you see him holding back tears.  He heads towards the direction of the of the tents.

[blehimalissa]

This is a really long one bc I don’t see the point in posting them separately so pls bare w me!

More on what I think can happen w Tyler in season 2

1. the Normie’s in Jericho obviously don’t like Nevermore. I don’t even think they know they’re a school of outcasts given the fact that Donovan told Santiago to tell the people it’s a bear attack. Mayor Walker seemed to only emphasize that Nevermore pays for basically everything in town which gives me an inkling that they aren’t too nosey, if they do suspect off behavior from the school they keep their mouths shut so they keep getting money. Also like they basically praise Crackstone who’s mission was to abolish all outcasts ??? Soooo yeah

2. Donovan being sheriff can pull some strings, he’s the heavy in town. That being said I’m sure he can do a lot to protect Tyler.

3. If the normies don’t know it was an outcast doing the killings they most certainly wouldn’t know that it was really the ‘normie sheriffs son’ because to Jericho, the Galpins are normal given I’m sure they don’t know about Francoise.

4. LAUREL!!! We don’t know if she’s dead or not but if she is either way, they can pin all the murders on her anyways,(which is how I think Donovan lawfully can protect him) because she’s done multiple offenses, lied about her death and created a fake alias UM WAIT! LITERALLY KILLED MAYOR WALKER! She’s the one that hit him w the car and then snuck into the hospital and pulled the plug.

But here’s the thing I’m stumped on: we have no idea how getting Tyler in that armored vehicle and being sent to Willowhill went. Do the people of Jericho even know about it?? Like im pretty sure if the sheriffs son was sent to a psychiatric hospital, people would find out…or was Donovan able to do that quietly? If so, once Tyler breaks out of the truck, I’m sure he will eventually end up home and reunited with Donovan who would be able to do damage control from there.

Lastly, with him being protected and Jericho not knowing anything, I don’t see him not being able to continue life normally, still going to school (maybe I’ll get into that in a little) still working at the weathervane, reiterating, if the people of Jericho don’t know he’s a hyde. Specially the hyde that caused all the havoc, he’s safe. But with his hyde officially being unlocked and how Faulkner’s diary describes them as being temperamental beasts and Weems as unpredictable and violent, we’ll see how he handles it now that he is masterless. (Hunter keeps saying he is) That could be because of 1 or 2 things, 1: Laurel IS dead, which therefor breaks the bond, or 2: if she’s still alive she doesn’t need to be in control of him anymore. (The only reason she unlocked him in the first place and ultimately became his master was to use the Hyde’s abilities to ruthlessly slaughter people to use for her own gain. The body parts to resurrect crackstone. She figures she can’t go out killing people herself, she’ll get caught, she needed something that could easily be passed off as a bear attack so people don’t suspect her and ruin her fun so she chose to use a hyde, and pretending to be Marilyn Thornhill and working at Nevermore she had the advantage of studying all outcasts and I’m sure she discovered that Hyde’s were banished and the most violent but ALSO needed someone to easily manipulate, we know she targeted Tyler because of his mom sooo) And finally, as for Tyler going to school, I don’t know about Jericho High but he might be able to go to Nevermore now that it will need a new Principle which could turn a new leaf, allowing Hyde’s back in. But I feel like that’s a long shot. Buuuut we’ll see. I just don’t know where else his character is gunna go and what they can do with him to keep him relevant if hes not seen as innocent in Jericho.

[locallyloathed]

Okay yeah I’m elaborating because otherwise these thoughts will eat me alive. Spoilers for Wolf 359, from the season 2 premiere to the season 3 finale.

The episode titles in this show, albeit to varying degrees, are usually tied to the main message or theme the episode is trying to get across. Take other titles from season 2: “The Kumbaya Approach,” an episode where Eiffel and Minkowski find out both from the big bad and from the final victim of the last doomed voyage that no amount of pacifism and diplomacy is going to be enough to get them home. “Let’s Kill Hilbert,” an episode exploring how far each of the crew members are willing to go for revenge, both on their behalf and on behalf of the original Hephaestus crew. “Minkowski Commanding,” an episode that puts the focus on Minkowski and shines a spotlight on the sense that she’s losing control of the station and her desperation to get it back.

Then, we have “Lame-O Superhero Origin Story.” Said by Eiffel in regards to the virus Hilbert is growing inside of him, but not applicable to Eiffel in any major thematic sense. It could be argued that the title pertains to both Lovelace and Hilbert, as one of many times the show emphasizes how similar the two of them are at heart. On Lovelace’s side, she opens up about the sense of hopelessness she faced watching her crew die at the hands of Goddard Futuristics (and more directly, Hilbert) and how it fuels her determination to get back to earth and make them all pay for it. This is followed up in the next episode, “Do No Harm,” with her expressing her refusal to get attached to the current crew and risk going through all of that again.

That said, nothing said by Lovelace during that scene in episode 25 is new information to anyone. We’ve known since episode 14 that her crew was killed one at a time, and we’ve known since episode 19 that Hilbert was the cause of death for almost all of them. As tragic as it is to hear it from her own mouth, it’s hard to say that it’s the highlight of the episode, as much as it is a prelude for her frantic mental and emotional state in “Do No Harm.”

Hilbert’s outburst, on the other hand, is one of, if not his single most important scene in the entire show, and the buildup equally so. He spent the entire season thus far being the butt of Eiffel’s jokes: that he has no soul, that he’s a monster, that he’s pure evil. He’s been stripped of any and all creature comforts, starved and shut out, and he did it all without complaint. Then Lovelace returned and nearly killed him, and when she turned into a tyrant, he was asked to rejoin the crew, only to for said crew to keep treating him with distrust and scrutiny. All of this because of his refusal to give up on his life’s work, which he himself knows is causing damage to those around him, but as far as he’s concerned, the work he’s doing will go on to save billions. If everyone hates him, if they refuse to hear him out, if they never bother to even try and see his perspective, none of that matters. All that matters is that he gets the virus to work.

And now here he is, trying to help keep the station intact, and Eiffel just won’t. Stop. Pushing. Antagonizing him. Telling him his work doesn’t matter. Saying he didn’t care about his old crew mates. And finally, one more jab at his completely lack of morality. And just like that Hilbert snaps, and everything he’s been holding in comes out in a wave. In his most vulnerable moment, as he expresses his sheer frustration with his situation, it brings up old feelings of resentment from decades ago, watching as the people in charge neglected helping victims like him, because all of the suffering caused by their negligence needed to be swept under the rug in favor of PR. All because of people like Eiffel, who would rather be fed frivolous, feel-good bullshit than have to face the ugly truth.

Just like that, it’s all out in the open. And true to Eiffel’s nature, he refuses to drop it, no matter how hard Hilbert tries to refuse. Between Eiffel being a necessity to complete his work and Eiffel effectively holding him hostage by refusing to give him tools without telling him more of his private information, he’s forced to talk about the worst experience of his life with someone who frankly doesn’t deserve to know about it. Being a toddler, watching a nuclear power plant meltdown, forced to lose everyone and everything he cared about. Slowly. Painfully. By inches. And in the aftermath, being left all alone, left to try and pick himself out of the rubble with no help from anyone. And so, once he beat the odds and got his feet under him, he created Decima. An ugly reality that could one day ensure that no one ever had to suffer the way he did, to feel the way he’s felt his entire life. Eiffel’s pity just makes Hilbert feel even worse, and only after lashing out at Eiffel’s own family history does he finally start to back off. But not before dragging out one last piece of information he had no right to know. Sure, going through that might have secured Eiffel’s cooperation, but effectively at the cost of Hilbert’s pride and dignity.

The interaction honestly wouldn’t be out of place in the episode “Shut Up and Listen,” the episode where everyone finally tells Eiffel he needs to stop and think before he just starts talking, because he doesn’t know what kind of life the people around him have led. The only difference between Hilbert and the rest: the others did the same thing to him, and they did it with malice. They treated him like a verbal punching bag, like he was less than human, and he just let them because lord knows he’s endured worse. In the grand scheme of the show, in the question of what defines humanity, Hilbert’s fluctuating status as a person in the eyes of those around him is a tragic, crucial part of the big picture. And the only one who ever got to know the truth was the one who wrenched it out of him against his will and called him a monster at his funeral.

If Eiffel had heard Hilbert’s life story under any other circumstances - that a child that survived a nuclear meltdown went on to devote his life to a miracle cure-all to save all of humanity - he’d ask you in which issue of DC that hero was introduced. But no, as far as he, the crew, and everyone else is concerned, there’s nothing heroic to be found in Hilbert. Nobody that evil has an origin story worth hearing. Better to just pretend he’s evil for evil’s sake. After all, he’s not as human as the rest of us, right?

Mmm stuck thinking about Wolf 359 Episode 25 and how the title of Lame-O Superhero Origin Story came from Eiffel as a joke, but instead of having anything to do with his backstory, it’s the episode where you finally get to learn why Hilbert is so obsessed with creating a miraculous all-curing retrovirus.

[illusion-reality-steve]

Reaction to “I escaped the Darkness” and “Steves acting suspicious” - Rainbow Quest Eps. 136 and 137

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vrp7_Wq9moE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NEOWkwZkzEk

I apologize for the delay with this reaction series. I really had to take a break to mull over my Thoughts about Shadow Sabre and his discussion about love. But now I’m back.

I’m going to pay more attention to Shadow Sabre, Sabre, and Violet’s characterization since it means a lot to me that I figure out Rainbow Quest’s view on people who love and people who don’t love. I’ll be writing textual evidence in a file and writing my analysis in a separate file, for a future post, while my general fresh reactions will be documenting in the “Reaction” series.

So as a forewarning: I might be taking more breaks as I bingewatch Rainbow Quest as I work on taking notes and over-thinking the tiniest quotes for my analysis project, which means I’ll be slower with catching up on the series. Thank you in advance for your patience!

Anyways, resume the reactions!

The clock ticking noises in the intro makes me wonder if Time will get a more significant, potentially scary, role in this series.

[Screenshot of the destroyed giant statue in the destroyed original Rainbow hub]

Why do I have the mental image of the Darkness biting that statue as if it were a gingerbread man?

Shadow Sabre is starting to radiate the “Are you winning, son?” energy. Except he’s saying “Are you falling into the darkness, son?” instead.

**

Sabre: I’d rather have friends and then lose them, then to have none at all.

Me: Well, good news, Sabre! You will lose all your friends after what you do in the Rainbow Quest finale! You have to say goodbye to all of them!

Yup, RQ is going with the one vs many theme.

**

Consider this: Rainbow Quest, but every time a character says “want,” the video plays .25x faster

**

Now it sounds like Sabre is agitating a super edgy Internet man by telling Shadow Sabre he is afraid. Shadow getting emotional doesn’t help lmao. The emotional “WE CRAVE NOTHING” is hysterical.

This is satisfying me. Sabre’s Steve-content is at its absolute best when its storytelling criticizes the idea that “edginess = superiority.”

**

Sabre: What we want is for everyone to have their own choices. Not be stripped of their own will, but be given their own will, so that they can avoid this right here!

Heck yes, go Sabre!

But of course, with every discussion of free will, someone will eventually ask the question: “But what about the people who decide to use their free will to cause irreversible damage?” I’m curious to see if RQ will explore this question.

I feel like that question will best be explored in an environment where Darkness doesn’t exist to manipulate Steves. What will Steves, without any manipulation of Darkness, do? Will some of them decide to do damaging things?

So far, the only characters that I know of that don’t get manipulated by Darkness are Sol and Origin Steve. So I’m curious to see what their character arcs will be like and how they explore the idea of free will and a manipulation-less world.

**

Sabre is so freaking badass. Shadow is threatening him. Telling him that he can either embrace the Darkness and give up all emotions, or be stuck reliving painful memories for eternity. And Sabre just went like “bring it on.” And that is epic.

Side note, in a meta sense, it’s odd to see Sabre declare how he’ll always remember the lost loved ones from his adventures. Because in Steve Saga, he spends season 2 forgetting everyone. Four main characters (Rainbow and the Galaxy Fam) also forget their loved ones in the Steve Saga.

We went from Steve “who?” Saga to Rainbow “I will remember” Quest, and I like it. Let the forgotten be remembered!

**

MY BOY LEATHER CHESTPLATE YELLOW. COME HERE, SON.

AND HE’S OPEN-MINDED AND ACTUALLY LISTENING TO SABRE. YESSSS

MY SON, IF YOU CONTINUE BEING SO NICE TO SABRE, YOU WILL BE MY #1 FAVORITE CHARACTER IN THIS SERIES.

Leather Chestplate Yellow: *helps Violet Leader arrest Sabre*

...

:(

**

Shadow in the intro: “Are you sick of being powerless?”

Well, we’ll figure out how Sabre feels about being powerless against the Steves now with his tainted repulation.

**

Sabre: I thought Violet Steves were all about peace because you guys represent love!

Me: Sabre, I’ve seen fandoms tear themselves apart with drama because of their protective love over their favorite IPs. Love. Is. Not. Peaceful.

**

Darn it, now I can’t figure out Shadow Sabre

Is he actually vulnerable and legit got scared when Sabre broke out? Or did he pretend to be scared and give Sabre temporary control just so Sabre can get bullied by the Steves? Reliving the past didn’t work to break Sabre, so Shadow Sabre thought on his feet and through accepting the present would do the trick?

***

The Shadow Sword is a weapon formed from all the destruction Sabre caused? So the Shadow Sword basically has a lot of dead people’s energy inside of it?

...gross.

***

I know plot-wise, they’re avoiding him because they need the Steves to trust him. But if we’re going with the “Darkness is a metaphor of mental illness” interpretation, I get odd vibes about Sabre’s friends wanting to avoid him because he got infected.

Time gets a “good boy” sticker for being understanding. Though I’m wondering why Time didn’t ask Elemental to put Sabre in a pocket dimension though, like with Yellow King and Orange Leader.

And Elemental, you’re strong. If you’re so upset at Sabre, why didn’t you destroy him earlier while Sabre was possessed? I’m guessing Time stopped you, because he knew Sabre would eventually come through.

[supercorpkid]

It’s crossover season – Part 2.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Iron Man x TeamMate!Reader, Captain America x TeamMate!Reader, Bucky x TeamMate!Reader, Falcon x TeamMate!Reader, Vision x TeamMate!Reader, Wanda x TeamMate!Reader.

Word count: 2675.

Previously on the series - part 1

“What do you mean no one can lift Thor’s hammer?” You ask Cap, who puts his arms around you with a little smile. “Is it made by a million tons of condensed dwarf star?”

“Is it what? No, nothing like that. It’s a long story.” He says guiding you back inside. “The important part is that you just showed everyone how worthy you are.” You smile at the compliment. “Do you mind training a little, before the big fight? I just want to make sure you’re in sync with the rest of the team.”

“Yeah. I would love that.” You agree with your head and Cap guides you to a large room with a bunch of new people you don’t know.

“Guys, this is Superkid. She is back-up for the fight that is to come.” Cap says and you smile shyly, looking at everyone staring at you. “Remember that we’re facing a strong and big army, and any help is more than welcomed.” He looks back at you. “Now onto work.”

You agree with your head, and he leaves. You look at a guy with wings coming out of his suit and nod.

“Nice wings.” You smile politely. He agrees with his head.

“Thank you! Nice…” He looks at you for a second and you finally notice what you’ve been wearing all along. Your momma’s old college T-shirt, and sweatpants.

“Oh, sorry!” You change into your super suit using your super speed and go back to the same place you were.

“So, you’re fast.” He says like he has deciphered you. “I’m Sam, aka Falcon.” He points at himself. “Red guy over there is Vision.” You look up to see an actual red guy flying.

“Lovely to make your acquaintance.” He says from up there.

“Yeah. You too.” You look back at Sam, pointing at the only other girl in the room.

“That’s Wanda.”

“Cool. Hi Wanda!” You wave at her and she kind of waves, kind of nods at you, but doesn’t quite do any.

“Bucky.” Sam says at the guy coming closer with a frown on his face.

“Are we going to kindergartens to pick up heroes now?” It’s what Bucky says, when he gets closer to you and you roll your eyes. Not another one questioning your abilities because of your age.

“Nice arm.” You point at his metal arm with a smile. “Is that your superpower? You have a metal arm?”

“Funny.” He frowns while Sam laughs at him.

“Come on, kid. Time to show us what you’ve got.” Sam says and they all walk to the same side, leaving you alone in the other.

“So, it’s all of you against me?” You furrow your brows and they smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you.” Bucky says with a blank face, and you shrug.

Falcon is the first to come at you. Wings up, flying towards you, with a gun in hand. He doesn’t shoot, but he doesn’t catch you either. You fly up, and when he passes down on you, you throw your body back at him, making him fall on the ground. He uses his wings to protect himself from the fall and rolls to the other side of the room.

Next, Bucky comes at you. You know he’s more of a combat guy. That’s not your fighting style, you are aware. You were never really good at that, so you should avoid it. He comes in, metal arm ready to punch you and you hold his hand before it hits your face. You don’t know what this metal is, but it’s very strong, and a lot harder to break than you thought. Still, you make an effort to at least make a dent in it.

“Stop!” He pulls his arm away from your grip. “This is expensive, kid. Don’t break it.”

“Sorry.” You look at the little dent you made in it and smile apologetic. “I’ll go easy on you.”

But your time with Bucky is over, because Vision is coming at you now. He flies towards you at full speed, but he doesn’t have his fist closed. He is not going to punch you. Instead, he hits you with some kind of yellow ray, and you look at your hands glowing yellow, and feel your entire body shivering like you just got a blast of excitement.

“What is this?” You ask him, and he stops. Surprised you’ve taken such a hit, without running from it.

“Solar energy?” He asks, landing in front of you. “You were not supposed to take the hit, I thought you would move away from it.”

“Solar energy?” You smile. “Cool, man. That’s how I get my powers. And you just blast me with the strongest sunlight I’ve ever seen. I bet I’m even stronger now!”

Just to test it, you punch the floor, making a hole all around you. You notice, kind of too late, that this is probably the second time you’ll cause structural damage to a room, when you hear the windows breaking, making glass fly everywhere. Just a second later you hear the walls starting to give in and soon they’re crumbling down.

You look around, before the ceiling falls on top of you, to see the rest of ‘the Avengers’, and pick them up to save them from it. But you’re a second too late, because soon, there’s a red energy force around you, and before you blink, you’re thrown away, along with everyone else from the team to the field next to it.

You roll on the floor, stopping a little further away from everyone else, and you look at the now destroyed room you were all inside.

“I’m sorry.” You look at them feeling a little embarrassed. That was too much. You went too far. “Did I mess up big time?”

“Oh no, don’t worry. Who here never destroyed an entire reinforced training space?” Sam says, sounding a little bit too ironic, and you don’t know if he maybe meant it as a joke, or to try to make you feel better. Either way, you think this isn’t the first time you’ve destroyed your training place. “Besides, Tony’s a billionaire.” He says standing up, and you look up to Wanda, landing in front of you, and offering her hand to help you up.

“Thanks for getting us out of there.” You smile and she agrees with her head.

“Yeah, sure. Just don’t destroy the other side of the compound. That’s where we sleep.” She smiles and you agree with your head.

“I’m not mad.” You hear behind you, and you turn around to look at Mister Stark himself looking at the mess you made. “I just want to know who did it.” He takes off his sunglasses just to stare at you. “Let me guess, smart mouth over here is not only great at talking back, but she is also a destruction weapon?”

“In my defense…” You try, knowing there’s absolutely no defense for what you just did. “Vision hit me with solar energy, and you know that’s where my powers come from.”

He sighs, looking at you one last time, before putting his sunglasses back. If you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed the little smile on the corner of his lips.

“Where should I send the bill to?” He asks walking past you and you know it’s a rhetorical question, but you still roll your eyes and answer.

“L Corp.”

“Not a real place. But nice try.” If you didn’t have super hearing, you wouldn’t have caught that. “Wanda, do you mind showing our little troublemaker where she’s staying tonight? I hope we’re lucky enough that she won’t destroy that.”

“Come on.” Wanda points at the other side of the compound. “Let’s fly there.”

Wanda leads you to the other wing of the compound and shows you an empty bedroom you can stay in. You sit on the bed feeling relentless. There’s too much going on in your head, you would sound crazy if you try to put it into words.

It’s weird being here. It’s your first thought. But it’s also nice. You’re used to being around super-heroes. You were never a stranger to the saving lives and saving the world concept. It’s been like this ever since you were born, and you never knew another life. But whatever this is, it’s not what you’re used to. This is not a house, you understand that by looking around, this is a safe place. Sort of like the Fortress of Solitude. But instead of solitude, you find that there’s so many people around. What you’re feeling right now is anything, but loneliness.

So many superheroes with different abilities, all living together, training, making each other better. People with so many backgrounds. You were so scared they could find out you’re half alien, and then Thor waltzes in looking like he just belongs on this Earth, and you find peace. For the first time the thought of you being half alien is not scary. You’re not scared if they know that. In fact, you want them to know that.

You want them to know you, and you want to know them. You want to hear all about Thor’s hammer and why apparently no one else in this house can lift it, no matter how strong they are.

“It’s called Mjölnir.” Wanda says and you look at your door with wide eyes. You earn a soft chuckle in response. “The fact why no one can’t lift it, it’s because there’s some Asgardian protection and only who’s worthy can lift it.”

“Worthy of what?” You ask and she shrugs, walking to the chair in front of your bed.

“I guess who has a pure heart or good intentions?” Wanda waves it off, and you agree with your head. “Honestly, you have immense power. I guess the fact that you’re a kid also helps with the ‘pure heart’ part.”

“Like you’re that much older.” You roll your eyes, and Wanda smiles again. She must be only four years older than you. It’s not that big of a difference. And yet, here she is. Part of ‘the Avengers’. Fighting, being a back-up for everyone. While you just keep destroying training centers like a big stupid mess.

“Hey, stop that.” Wanda says and you raise your eyes to stare her. “You’re not a big stupid mess.”

“And you can stop reading my thoughts, please.”

“I’m sorry. But you’re wrong anyways. I wasn’t always back-up. In fact, I was once someone they were fighting against.” She breathes deep after that. You furrow your brows.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” She bites her lips while fidgeting with her rings. “No one here is perfect. Everyone has a past where they did something they shouldn’t have.”

“Oh really? Even Mister Playboy?” You ask.

“Especially him. He made his money by selling weapons that were used by the bad guys. He might be a genius, but his money? I don’t really like to think about where that came from.”

“Sam? Bucky?”

“Sam was military, so I bet he’s done a lot. Bucky was literally brainwashed and has killed a long list of people by the command of a huge bad organization.” Wanda adds, and you furrow your brows taking some time to absorb her words. “Just-” She makes her way to sit in bed with you. “I know you feel bad for destroying the training center, and honestly you don’t have to.”

“I’m sorry, I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you all have such intense-” You look at her to see her reaction to the word. She hums in agreement. “Pasts.” You think about Kara. “I’m not very familiar with that.”

“How come?”

“Well, my momma is from a planet called Krypton and it exploded. So, she was sent to Earth, not this one,” you make sure to add. “She always did good. I think she sort of felt like she had to, ‘cause Earth was welcoming her after the loss of her planet, you know?”

“She never made a mistake?” Wanda raises her eyebrow and you think about a few times Kara was affected with red Kryptonite and sure, she made a few mistakes back there, but none was intentional. She was never fully conscious and chose to do so. You shake your head in denial. “Ooof, it must be hard. Is it only the two of you?”

“No. There’s my other mom. She came from a family of villains. My uncle is just always out to kill me and my momma, because we’re aliens.” You say, not aware why you’re telling this girl you just met everything about your life. “But, despite all that, my mom is good. She’s a genius who just makes stuff to make my Earth better.”

“I see now why you’re worthy of Thor’s hammer and the rest of us aren’t.” She chuckles and you give her a forced smile.

“I’m not so good. Not like they want, anyways.” You say and Wanda agrees with her head, like she understands you.

“You know something I learned when I joined the Avengers?” You look at her with puzzling eyes. “You can’t always be good. It’s impossible. The world isn’t black and white, things are not easy like that. You can try to do good as much as you’d like, but sometimes you think you’re on the good side, and you’re not. At all.” She really seems to be talking about her own experiences here. “There’s this grey area and sometimes we find ourselves there.”

“And then what do we do?” You are really interested, because maybe you’re in this grey area.

“We survive and we go on.” She shrugs. “That’s the only thing we can do.”

Go on. That’s her advice. She goes on. That’s not something Kara and Lena would say to you. They would’ve said the only thing you can do, is do your best. Do better. Fight your way out of this grey area. They would never have told you to just survive, and just go on. But here’s the thing, sometimes just surviving is you already doing your best.

You stare at Wanda’s face and hum in agreement. She’s right. And the best part? She wouldn’t force you to do better, but just to go on.

“Wow, you’re really wise for someone your age.” You are legit impressed with her. She smiles at you.

“I have been through a lot of pain and losses.” Her expression immediately saddens at that, and you can only imagine what she’s been through. “It forced me out of my youth.”

“Sorry about that, Wanda.”

“Yeah.” She shrugs, getting up, and she points to the door in front of yours. “I’m in that room, in case you need something. Just rest a little. Tomorrow will probably be the hardest day of your life.”

Wanda leaves your bedroom and you look around, breathing deep. Man, aren’t you far from home?

You think about Kara and Lena, and you hope they’re not worried about you. Because this might sound weird, but it feels good to be here. It feels like this is where you are actually supposed to be right now.

Post-credit scene:

“This is it?” Kara says landing in front of a door, putting Lena next to her. Lena picks up the card again and looks at it.

“This is it. 177A Bleecker St.” She agrees with her head.

“There’s nothing inside.” Kara walks in the front door, giving it a push strong enough to open it even though it is locked. They walk in an empty building, covered with dust and silence. “She’s not here. There’s nothing here.”

“Kara.” Lena calls and Kara turns around to look at her. Both have watery eyes, and hearts beating out of their chest. “I want my baby.”

“I want her too.” Kara says, wrapping her arms around Lena’s shoulders, bringing her closer. “I’m gonna find her. I will find you, little one. I’ll find you.”

[kef-meister]

Fuck it, this my blog. Time to re-write the cursed "adaptation" my brain came up with after the Halo television series appeared. Keep in mind that for as far as I know, the Halo TV series was made by dinguses VERY happy about the fact they didn't actually know a whole lot about the source material.

Metroid (Television Series 2022- )

We follow Samus Aran, a grown woman living by herself on Earth in the year 20xx. She has TV-series level PTSD from having gone through a space-war and now lives by herself with an adopted daughter. We learn this because of pictures on the wall.

Then, there's an alien invasion which catches Earth off-guard: they identify themselves as Space Pirates, and they're here to fuck shit up. Samus, just a regular-ass grown woman with a kid, gets into a fight with a dude identifying himself as Ripley. (this is not a typo)

Ripley manages to blind-side Samus and kills her adopted daughter, who was left entirely unnamed outside of the nickname 'baby' entirely for this reason. Also, her house is set on fire. Without her baby, Samus gets catapulted into depression. Meanwhile, the US Military (the US Department of Defense is funding this show, because propaganda) has begun to contact their veterans to participate in tactics against the Space Pirates, in an operation nicknamed 'CHOZO'. Samus signs up immediately. The CHOZO program turns out to be an elite squad of veterans which will test out the US Military's latest powered armor program This is where Samus' squad is introduced. The calls signs for Samus is 'Lady' - two others are Old Bird and Quiet Voice.

Because Samus is the main character, she gets the most-advanced but experimental powered armor suit. It's nicknamed the METROID class armor, a portmanteau of Metro + Android. It's never explained why.

[Intermission for unnecessary shower scenes. One of them in which Samus is, in fact, very depressed. We can tell because she's hugging her knees and having flashbacks. "My baby, my baby".]

PLOT TWIST: The CHOZO program has been using alien DNA left over from the space-war to enhance their soldiers in powered armor. That's why they wanted the veterans: nobody would miss them. The actual overseer is only seen in silhouette, nicknamed Mother Brain. There is an episode in which Samus, in her METROID armor, finally confronts Ripley. Tormenting her with his prior victory, Samus breaks down on the field of battle and guns down anything that moves. This includes Gray Voice and Old Bird. Ripley doesn't die. PLOT TWIST 2: The alien DNA is Space Pirate DNA, which Ripley has been selling to Mother Brain. The program is compromised. Dun dun dunnnnnn.

According to Mother Brain, Samus Aran has lost her baby, her house and gunned down her squad -- so she has nothing to lose. Mother Brain then declares Samus a "CHOZO ultimate warrior" in the Season Finale Cliffhanger.

__________

This hurt me a lot to write and if Netflix wants to pay me for this idea then they know where to find me. Meanwhile, the DoD gets another vessel to spout propaganda and I get to apologize profusely for having caused irreparable psychic damage across continents.

We all lose. Let's not adapt video games.

At one point I wrote a terrible 'pitch' or bullet-points for a Metroid TV series a la the Halo one and I'm debating whether I should share it here sometime. It's stripping the series of its identity because "adaptation" and as such it's omega-level cursed to me.

[pagesofkenna]

bananadumbledore: When @zzzendica and I saw they did a revival we jumped right on that lmao it's still so goofy but it still feels like the classic show. Also who are your top suspects 👀

i was SO excited for the revival, and then they just dropped like the entire season in 2 weeks which kinda bugs me lol, which is why i'm catching up late lmao

ok spoilers up until the last two episodes obviously

they're down to the final four and currently I think it's Kesi tho it could also be Will? I was certain it was either Kesi, Sandy, or Jacob until Sandy left and then I was certain it was Jacob and then they spent the whole episode before he left trying to increase our suspicion on him, so

The people who I thought were trying too hard to LOOK like the Mole are Joi, Greg, Avori, and I think Will? Except looking back, Will not so much, it was just him 'stealing' the cargo in the first episode that made me decide it couldn't be him—but now I'm realizing he's done a great job of evading suspicion since then, and that could have been a play to gain everyones trust?

I've actually been flip flopping a lot on Will but now I actively don't like him and really hope he at least doesn't win oops. He has too much alpha-dog energy, 'im always right and everyone is stupid for not listening to me', and every time he messes up he manages to shift the blame onto someone else. if he's not the Mole then he's at least kind of a pushy egotist

I knew it wasn't Greg and was kinda OK with him going home (he had too much cocky business major energy lmao). Jacob I was sure of because he seemed so genuine and kept screwing up, it had to be an act... and then it wasn't oops

Avori's whole 'im gonna intentionally look like the Mole here' thing seems too obvious and intentional for it to be her, but maybe that's what the editors want me to think? I won't be too shocked if it DOES turn out to be her, you'd think a pro-gamer would be better at puzzlesolving

If Joi turns out to either win or be the Mole I will be happy actually, she kind of went the opposite direction as Will where I didn't really like her at first, but in the last few episodes I realized she's doing that on purpose? and she's still in the game, which says to me she's either the Mole, or way smarter and more calculated about what she's doing than she wants anyone to think. she basically perfectly set herself up to be the least-liked person this whole season, and I'm pretty sure more than one person has gone home voting for her. and if she IS the Mole then she's done a great job of causing a lot of damage ($25k!?? really?!!) while throwing shade elsewhere

then Kesi... I think it's her mostly because I haven't had much reason to pay attention to her for most of the season. the only things I actually remember her doing are big 'oops I didnt notice' screwups in the last few episodes (not noticing the boat during that plane flyover when the editors were focusing on Avori not noticing the boat, not reading out the names in the gold lockboxes, all of the 'those pigeons arent flying in a circle, im confidant this is the pigeon we're looking for' stuff). i think she's done a good job staying out of everyones radars and now that its down to the wire she's really playing into the 'im stressed and tired and just missing things' thing. if it's not her... i'mma feel bad for this stressed out girl lol

[forlove2020]

Day 2 - No Vacancy

It is the last day of November and no one wants to buy any more pumpkins. 

Halloween has gone by, and Thanksgiving has blown past too. The people of Lebanon, Kansas have had their fill of the bright orange gourds - for more than two months they've displayed them on their front porches, carved them into jack-o-lanterns, and added them into every kind of dessert and frothy little drink imaginable.

And that is why, on November 30th, Dean decides his family is going on a field trip to the Lebanon Corn Maze and Pumpkin Patch.

Things have been good lately. No, scratch that. Life has been freakin' awesome. It has been just under two weeks since he rescued Cas from the Empty and a week since Jack came home. Dean is over the moon; radiating happiness in a way he never has before. They're all together, alive, and no Big Bad hovers menacingly on the horizon. Dean's not one to believe in a 'best case scenario,' but hell if this doesn't feel just like it.

The farm is about a twenty-five minute drive from the Bunker, and Dean, Cas, and Jack pull up in the Impala at the same time as Sam and Eileen arrive in Sam's CR-V. 

(Dean had teased him mercilessly about his new ride until Sam looked him dead in the eye, placing his hand protectively on Eileen's protruding belly, and insisted "Honda gets really good safety ratings, Dean." Dean, wisely, had shut up after that.)

Claire and Kaia are already there waiting, leaning up against Claire’s car, hand in hand. Jack leaps out of Baby as soon as Dean puts her in park, barreling toward the girls so he can nag Claire about his latest obsession: TikTok. Even from a distance it’s clear she’s rolling her eyes at him, but smiling despite herself

Dean and Cas get out of the car at a more leisurely pace and survey their surroundings.

What had been a busy festival complete with a lush corn maze, vibrant pumpkin patch, and stalls selling kettle corn and caramel apples two months ago is now a dismal scene. The corn maze has dried out and shriveled up, and the stalls are unmanned. Technically, there are still pumpkins aplenty in the field, but they're the ones that have been forsaken. The remaining pumpkins are leftovers that were considered either too skinny, too fat, or just too misshapen and lumpy to have been picked as the cream-of-the-crop.

Dean looks over at Cas. He’s squinting at the scenery in the dim autumn sunlight, and the nippy breeze has swept through his dark hair, making it seem more tousled than usual. Not for the first time, Dean thinks that he is gorgeous.

But now, he can actually tell Cas what he is feeling in these moments. There are no more half-truths or lies between them, nothing secret. After years of pining for one another without any hope of reciprocation and hiding the pains of longing, they’ve finally broken down the walls that kept them apart. They love one another fiercely, and while their relationship is new, it is not tenuous. 

So, Dean turns to him with a crooked grin.  “Hey, handsome.”

Cas blinks, and then a little smile curls the corners of his mouth. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean moves closer until their shoulders are brushing and he can feel the warmth of Cas’ body through both of their jackets. “You think Jack’s gonna be disappointed?” he asks quietly, watching their kid practically tackle Sam with a hug as Eileen signs something Dean can’t quite make out from the other end of the parking lot. “I mean, this isn’t exactly the ‘autumn glory’ we were promised on those fliers earlier this month.”

Cas doesn’t even hesitate. “No. I think Jack just appreciates having a normal...uh, sort of a normal life again. He’s excited to be here picking pumpkins, especially with Claire and Kaia, and Sam and Eileen joining us. This was a nice surprise you planned for him, Dean.”

It’s a simple compliment, and not even particularly saccharine, but Dean flushes from head to toe anyway. He’s working on believing the good things Cas says about him; he’s really trying, but it’s always been difficult for him to take a compliment about anything other than his good looks or hunting prowess. Instead, he meets Cas’ eye, and nods silently. And then, remembering he is allowed, takes Cas’ hand in his own, twining their fingers together.

They walk hand-in-hand to join Claire, Kaia, Jack, Sam and Eileen at the front gate. It’s hanging wide open, and no one is standing there to charge them an entrance fee. However, the sign does make a point to state that the maze is open until December 1st. Eileen shrugs, and so the seven of them wander down the path towards the pumpkin patch and the entrance to the maze. 

“Kaia! I’ll race you to the end!” Jack shouts, and laughing, Kaia chases him into the maze, dragging a grumbling Claire along behind her. 

“Let’s see if we can find anybody still working,” Sam suggests.

Eileen points at a worn down farmhouse tucked mostly behind a newly-painted red barn. “Someone must be home,” she signs pointedly, gesturing to plumes of smoke exuding from a grey chimney stack.

Dean ends up knocking on the door. He leaves Sam, Eileen, and Cas at a nearby picnic table, debating in Sign Language about the best flavor of cotton candy and whether or not the color of the dye changes the taste. 

 A minute or two later, an older man swings open the squeaky screen door to the house. He’s scowling, wearing muddy overalls, and chewing on a thick cigar. “Yeah?” he asks shortly. “Whaddya want?”

Dean raises his eyebrows at the farmer’s bluntness, but manages to respond politely. “My family and I saw fliers for this place a few weeks ago. We were hoping to buy some pumpkins and candy apples. What are you charging”

The farmer’s scowl grows deeper, and he looks past Dean to Sam, Eileen, and Cas relaxing on the bench, then narrows his eyes at the corn maze, where shrieks of laughter can be heard as the younger adults chase one another through the thinning stalks.

Getting impatient, with the man’s surly silence, Dean prods, “And…? It’s a yes or no question. Are you still selling pumpkins?”

The old man pulls the cigar out from between his teeth. “My wife and daughter run this hokey shit,” he grunts. “They went into town today ‘cause folks already came through here earlier in the month. They like customers. We haven't had anybody else stop by since before Thanksgiving.”

As his temper flares, Dean turns his grit teeth into a sharp smile. “Well, then it’s your lucky day! Here we are,” he says mockingly, sweeping his arms wide. The farmer mumbles something insulting and covers it with a hacking cough. Dean pretends not to hear him, “Fine. I take it from your sunny attitude that there will be no popcorn or apples today?” 

The man scoffs, “Enjoy the maze, boy-o. Free of charge.” He turns to lumber back inside, but Dean grabs the screen door before he can try to disappear.

“Hey!” the hunter barks. The farmer pauses, his body tensing for a fight. “Are you gonna sell me the goddamn pumpkins or not?” 

Cas has wandered to his side, either noticing the commotion, or simply because he wanted to be closer to Dean. Now, he interrupts casually, “You still have quite a few squash left in the fields and there’s going to be heavy frost two days from now, overnight. It’d be a shame if all of these pumpkins rotted, and you wasted the rest of your harvest.”

He has, quite deftly, snared the salty old farmer’s attention. Money is the man’s language; he might not enjoy having customers on his property so late in the season, but he certainly likes having the funds to maintain his land.

****************************************

“A hundred.”

“A hundred?” Sam sounds insulted. “You’re gonna pitch all of these in a couple days. There’s no way we’re paying a hundred. Try twenty-five dollars.”

The farmer rolls his eyes dramatically. He is in his element; the thrill of making a good deal and bartering his wares on the last day is an unexpected but welcome surprise that has put him in high spirits. “You’re cute, kid. I know my produce is worth more than that. I’ll go down to eighty-five, and you can take whatever you can carry in one trip.”

“Thirty-five,” Sam shoots back.

“Eighty.”

“Forty-one.” Once, Sam was going to be a lawyer. He’s got the upper hand in this situation and he’s going to crush his opposition. One more price reduction and they’ll have dozens of pumpkins to take home, way below the original asking price.

“Sevent…”

“Sixty-five, and we fill up all of our cars,” Dean interrupts, and Sam looks at him, utterly betrayed as the gleeful farmer shakes on the deal.

As Cas, Jack, Claire, and Kaia help carry the pumpkins to Sam and Claire’s cars respectively, Dean just claps Sam on the shoulder and tells his brother, “It’s still a cheaper family outing than going to Disney.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam says mournfully, and sulks over to help Eileen, who is supervising the influx of pumpkins that are being loaded into their vehicle.

Dean chuckles, and scoops up a few pumpkins. He’s got some recipes he wants to try out, plus he’s excited to teach Jack to carve ‘Jack’-o-lanterns. The kid seemed to want to learn how to do everything the human way now, and Dean is more than happy to teach him.

One by one, Dean places eight pumpkins in the backseat of Baby. One is tall and oblong with lots of stringy stems, matched with the only short and well rounded pumpkin he sees in the field. Between those two he sets a teeny tiny baby-sized pumpkin. Then, there’s a pumpkin that is half-green half-orange. It seems like it must have grown too fast because it is still quite young despite its size. Next, he adds two medium pumpkins that are also young, but growing strong. And last but not least, he picks up two more pumpkins. They are both a bit damaged - one is bruised and discolored, the other looks like it might have grown sideways. But Dean picks them because they lean against one another in the field, steady despite their flaws, despite what they’ve been through. 

He sets them all up in a long line along the backseat, and when Cas sees what he chose, his eyes go soft and warm as he looks at Dean.

“Let’s go home,” he breathes out, and takes Dean’s hand again.

Everyone gets in their cars - Dean in the driver's seat and Cas taking shotgun, as before. Jack tries to get in the Impala, then looks in the back window, and starts laughing. 

“Dean! There’s nowhere for me to sit.”

Cas chuckles quietly beside him, as Dean grins. “Aw, tough break, kid. Guess you’re walking home.”

“Hey, no fair- Dean! C’mon! Cas! Tell Dean he has to -”

Dean starts to roll up the window, laughing loudly as Jack knocks on the window pane.

“Sorry! No vacancy!” he hollers. Jack is nearly doubled over, hilarity spilling from him in peals of laughter.

Claire honks her horn loudly, and throws open the back door to her car. Jack straightens, and scrambles to join her and Kaia, shooting Dean and Cas a bright wave goodbye.

Sam and Eileen also wave as they leave the parking lot, wheels sending gravel spinning in their wake. Claire and Kaia follow, and Jack rolls down the window as they pass, and calls across to Cas and Dean, “This was the best family trip ever!”

They too are soon gone, headed for the Bunker to drop off dozens of pumpkins which will decorate every room until they end up decaying or until Dean cooks them. 

Dean and Cas wait until the others have left, and then Dean leans over and kisses Cas, long and sweet. When he pulls back, Cas traces his cheek, and says thoughtfully, “We could take the backroads home today….”

Dean is so gone on him. He kisses Cas once, twice more, and then puts the Impala in drive, and they’re on the road, taking the long way home.

**********************************

I enjoyed adding a little Day 1 ‘Harvest’ flare to Day 2!

My goal is to make most of my Suptober fics one-shots that are in some way related to my multichapter fix-it that is still a work in progress (Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen, etc, post 15x20).

Thank you for reading!

-V

[airi-p4]

Ice Dreams - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | ...

Lukanette Figure Skating AU? Lukanette Figure Skating AU.

I’ve been planning this for more than one year already ( @mamanabeille​ knows ) but Freya’s recent art for me fueled me to finish the first 2 chapters (out of more than 60...)

Header art is traditional art drawn by me about one year ago - Full pic HERE.

Summary

Despite being very talented and loving to skate, Marinette is determined to quit Figure Skating after the lack of decent results and the great amount of stress and pressure on her shoulders.

On the other hand, Juleka and Luka are average skaters in pairs category who, after years of hard work, have finally started showing some good results. But suddenly, Juleka is forced to retire, leaving Luka at the verge of retirement because of his need for a partner.

Can Juleka convince Luka and Marinette to give figure skating a second chance? Can they form a bond strong enough to reach the top and accomplish their dreams? Could something more than partnership spark between them?

AO3

________________________________

CHAPTER 1: Marinette

Figure skating can appeal to people for many reasons: the competitive part, the artistry, the music arrangements, the performances…

For Marinette figure skating was everything- her whole life.

When she was happy, she would love to skate. When she was sad, skating never failed to cheer her up. She was athletic, flexible and talented, gifted by both technique and artistry, as well as tenacity to work hard and never give up. Skating was an irreplaceable part of her life.

WAS.

In past tense.

Because even when it’s pleasant to watch the beautiful programs the skaters have to offer, there’s something that never changes during competitions: the scores are what really matter. Fail one element and you're screwed. Keep the program perfect but with minimum difficulty, you're off the podium. Do perfect in practice but fail in front of the judges: it's over.

This was Marinette's case.

Recently, consistency always failed her in competitions, and it had been a letdown to see how the past seasons had been going blank for her, without any outstanding accomplishment, despite her being on top almost all of her childhood. Her effort, and full potential didn’t show off on her competition results.

Marinette's parents and her coach, Miss Bustier, associated her disappointing results to her mentor’s and grandmother’s passing. But Marinette was well aware that the main reason behind her failures wasn't only how much she missed her granny; the real cause had a girl’s name: Lila Rossi.

It had already been 2 years since Lila joined her training classes under Miss Bustier's teachings. And everything had gone downhill after that.

It's not that she hadn't already been enduring bullying from Chloe Bourgeois, but Lila's bullying was at a whole different level.

The pressure, the expectations, the stress, the bullying, the injuries and damaged property, the struggle her parents went through to pay for her classes and competitions, how she had to sew her own dresses because she didn’t have the money to buy them, how she almost had no friends left... Everything piled up for years and made her finally crumble. Her skating consistency was affected and led only to constant failure.

In the end, she was exhausted, and no matter how much she loved ice skating, she reached her limit. She surpassed her limit.

Lila Rossi had won.

For two weeks now, since her last failure at a National Competition, Marinette had been skipping her skating classes. Coach Bustier was always exceptionally kind to her, and had been considerate (in her own way) this time as well, suggesting she take a few days to rest and get back again when she felt confident again.

But Marinette didn't intend to return under her coaching. Instead, she had set her mind to resign from her classes and, probably, even quit figure skating too.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

The most talented skater of the decade was seriously considering quitting skating for good. And it made her sad, but she couldn’t see any other way out of the spiral of failures she was caught in. No one was there to get her out of the dark hole she was buried in.

She certainly didn’t expect a second chance in figure skating.

_________________________________

During the days she didn't go to her classes, Marinette always spent her time at the Miraculous Ice Skate Rink, where her 'grandfather', Master Wang Fu worked as a manager, taking care of the installation and the opening and shutting down hours, along with the material to rent and the tickets for open to public times. Being her mother’s uncle, she had been babysat by him and his wife since she was a little kid. It was, in fact, Marianne Lenoir, was the one who taught Marinette the skating basics and the one who made her start practicing and love figure skating since she was 3 years old.

Marinette loved her grandparents a lot, and the passing of Miss Lenoir still pained her everyday. After her tragic loss, they became even closer, especially when Master Fu gave Marinette his late wife's earrings as a memento - he knew she would have given them to her at some point, since she loved the dark-haired girl a lot. And with no children on their own, Marinette was the closest they had to a daughter or granddaughter. Marinette had promised to treasure the earrings. They had a ladybug’s design engraved on them, only visible when light illuminated themfrom a certain angle. They were very mysterious and unique, and Marinette had loved them since her eyes had fallen on them. After becoming their owner, not even once she took them off. She felt the luck on her side as long as she wore them.

Except, that wasn’t the case anymore.

Marinette had her own theory of how Lila might have corrupted them when she touched them once, since all her luck was now gone from her side from that moment onwards.

On the ice, Marinette skated a little. But when she attempted to jump, a memory of her last competition crossed her mind and she fell down. Instead of standing up like always, she stayed seated on the floor, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Marinette! Are you ok? Did you get hurt?" asked Fu, worried. Rushing (as much as his old legs allowed him to) to aid her.

"Master-! I- I-... I can't skate anymore!" She broke down to cry even harder.

"That's not true, Marinette. You're just feeling discouraged now because of your recent results in competition. It's normal to feel like that. It will be ok"

"No Master…  It's not just competitions… It's everything… Lila, Chloe, my coach, my parents, my friends…and I miss Granny Marianne so much... I'll never be able to follow her steps now… I should just be realistic and give up..."

"Don't say that, dear. You have luck on your side. Like a ladybug. Lady Chance. You are talented enough to overcome this. I’m sure Marianne would be proud of you, even if you don't follow her steps. And you know? There's no need to compete if you don't feel like doing it. Many people just skate for fun or minor competitions. I’m sure the future has good things prepared for you. You just need to keep moving and you’ll find the right path to follow. And whatever you choose to do, we'll be proud of you. The doors to this ice rink are open for you to come whenever you want to"

That's right. She could skate without competitions. She could focus on something else and have skating as a hobby. Maybe she could make a living out of a figure skating outfit designer…

It was settled. She was quitting. And she was telling her parents tonight.

"Thank you, Master. I know what I want to do now" she answered, giving him a heartfelt hug. Fu smiled at her and patted her back a little, happy to see her smile was back on her face and how his granddaughter's tears had finally stopped.

___________________________

Marinette was very nervous when she arrived home. She tried to sneak to her room without being noticed, but her mother had been waiting for her, with a deeply worried expression on her face. Marinette gulped. 'She has probably found out I've been skipping my classes' she thought, but her mother's mind was focused on something else- more serious. Something the girl didn’t expect or could have imagined.

“Marinette. Calm down and listen to me. Are you still friends with Juleka?”

Marinette blinked: that was not the question she expected. She sighed before answering, confused about her mother’s unusual distress.

“Yes, mom. It’s been a long while since we’ve last seen or talked to each other, but she is my friend”. She paused for a second. “Why do you ask? You’re scaring me...”

Sabine Cheng took a deep breath before answering “Marinette… Juleka is at the hospital”.

Marinette’s mother’s grip on her shoulders wasn’t strong enough to keep the girl from jumping in shock, neither stopped her from panicking a second later.

“What!? What happened to her!? Is she ok!?”

“Calm down, Marinette. She’s ok. She just fainted. She…” Sabine paused, hesitating, before continuing with the explanation. “She’s been diagnosed with an eating disorder”

Marinette felt a rush of mixed feelings forming inside of her: but between sadness and worrisome, anger was the first emotion to come out of her body.

“No…! No way! I’m sure it’s all Chloé’s fault! She used to make mean comments about her body since we were little. Her ideas must have grown bigger in Juleka’s mind! Just because she was taller and larger than many of us…! And now Juleka is…! Juleka is…!”

The spiral of emotions she was feeling ended up falling in the form of tears, again, in a crying whimper. Sabine, worried for her daughter, cupped her cheek and let her cry until she calmed down a little. It was not easy for her to wait patiently to ask her what she had really wanted to know after she had heard about Juleka’s condition, but she knew the girl needed to let it out, even if it hurt her to see her daughter crying like that. It almost felt like there was something more behind the salty water spilling from her eyes, but she remained silent until her sobbing sounds ended, being engulfed by the silence of the living room. When the wait finally was over, Sabine Cheng spoke again, looking straight to her eyes.

“Marinette, I need to ask you something. And please, be honest with me" Marinette gulped and nervously nodded. "Are you eating properly? You’re not throwing it out, aren’t you? I know you’ve always been thin, but I can’t help it but worry about you… You know how common eating disorders are in figure skating… And with what happened to Juleka and how discouraged you look recently…”

Marinette tensed at her mother’s question, more offended than shocked. “Of course not, maman! I’m properly eating what you put on my plate! I would never waste what it takes you so much work. I’m grateful I always have freshly baked bread on my plate”

Marinette’s mother relaxed at her daughter's answer, hugging her.

“Good. That’s good. I’m so glad. So relieved. Thank you, Marinette”. She spoke again after breaking the hug. “I think you should pay Juleka a visit. Here’s the room number and the hospital address. You should be there for her”

“Thank you for telling me, maman. I’ll visit her tomorrow morning”, the girl said, grabbing the paper with Juleka’s hospital contact from her mother’s hand.

“Good girl. I’m proud of you”

“Thank you, maman…” the twin-tailed girl managed to answer, feeling both happy and nauseous for the trust in her mother’s eyes. The thought of seeing disappointment on her parents' face terrified her.

‘No… I definitely can’t tell my parents yet…’ she thought.

_______________________

When Marinette arrived at Juleka's hospital room, she wasn't alone. The door was partially opened and she saw a blue-haired boy standing beside her. As soon as she knocked on the door, the boy noticed her and approached, with an interrogative and sad expression on his face. He was handsome despite his sad expression, Marinette thought, distracted for a second.

"I- I'm- Juleka...?" She managed to say, and the boy just nodded.

“Juleka, you have a visitor. I’ll let you two talk privately" he said, turning his head to the girl in the bed. "Thank you for coming,” he solemnly told Marinette before leaving the room.

“Thank you” she said when getting inside, without looking at him.

It had been a while since Marinette had talked to Juleka. It had been more difficult to keep in touch after she switched to pairs skating some years ago, even if they still exchanged messages and hung out together sometimes.

“Juleka, how are you? I heard you fainted and…” Her feet moved slowly towards her friend as she greeted her, but she gasped when she saw her figure: she couldn't be healthy looking the way she did.

“Marinette. Thanks for coming” Juleka weakly smiled.

“Juleka, look at you! You look so skinny! You have to eat! You shouldn’t listen to what people or magazines say, it’s dangerous! You need to be healthy.”

“I am healthy" she assured her, but Marinette's worried eyes made her admit her problem. "But… you’re right. There’s no need for me to keep throwing out my food. I’m retiring from figure skating”

"What?" Marinette gasped, and Juleka reaffirmed her words with a nod. “Oh no, Juleka! I know you loved it… I’m so sorry for you…” The baker's daughter sympathized.

“It’s Ok, Marinette. Thank you… I’m actually more worried about my brother. We were a team and now his dream is crushed because of me… He can’t compete without a partner and… I’ve wasted everything…”

“Oh, Juleka…”, she warmly hugged her friend.

Not wanting to talk more about her eating disorder, Juleka asked Marinette a question.

“What about you, Marinette? How are things going? Are you getting closer to your dream? You were always first place no matter what! I bet you’ve been improving and setting even higher scores by now. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could even land a triple axel!”

“I can land it, actually! It’s just… for some reason I can’t seem to land any of my jumps lately during competitions… I keep failing over and over… and then there’s Chloé and Lila… You know… I’m thinking of quitting…” she said in a sigh.

“Oh no, Marinette! You can’t quit! You are the most skilled and talented skater I’ve ever seen. Your scores as a child were in another league! You are bound to make history in figure skating, I know you do. You can’t quit!”

“It’s not a matter of skill anymore, Juleka… It’s a matter of results and wasted effort. I just… I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep my parents overworking to pay for my skating classes with me failing every single jump in competition. I can’t look at their disappointed looks every time I fail their expectations. And Lila’s bullying only keeps escalating while my coach never believes anything I say… I’m not motivated anymore. I don’t have the strength to keep trying...”

Marinette looked devastated as she spoke. Quitting figure skating couldn't make her happy. Juleka knew she would be feeling even worse than herself. She didn't like to see her friend like that.

“Are you sure, Marinette? Because I think it’s a waste. You could win an Olympic gold medal if you aimed for it. It’s just… so frustrating…”

“Juleka…”

After a long silence, Juleka set her determination and faced a surprised Marinette with a serious look on her eyes.

“No. Marinette, I can’t let you quit like that! Look at me. I’ve been forced to quit because of my condition. I wanted to keep skating! I didn’t want to stop! And yet… you say you want to quit. My brother says he wants to quit. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!? You have no consideration for me or for yourselves!" She yelled and then paused to take a deep breath. "Marinette, look at my face and tell me again you want to quit! Can you do it?”

“I-... I want to… " Marinette paused, unable to lie. "I want to keep skating!" She finally admitted. "But I can’t anymore, Juleka! I’ve tried to endure it, I’ve tried so hard! And yet… Nothing! It’s just useless. What’s the point when I’m starting to feel that skating is not fun anymore?”

“Oh no, Marinette, you can’t say that! You can’t give up your dream so easily. Who was that skater you admired? Your grandmother? Miss Lenoir? You dreamed of being like her someday! Graceful, elegant yet strong; sliding on the ice like if you were an angel coming from heaven, announcing salvation to all the graceful public crying tears of joy at your beautiful movements. I know you can do it, Marinette. You just need something or someone to…" Juleka paused for a moment. "Wait, I… I have an idea. Why don’t you try pairs skating for a while?”

Marinette was taken aback at her friend's suggestion.

“What? What are you talking about? I told you I want to… to quit…”

“No. Listen to me. You just need to try it out. You try, and I won’t oppose you quitting if you decide to do so after you’ve tried it out.”

“What’s the deal…?”, Marinette said, unconvinced.

“I want you to take my place. I want you and my brother to help each other recover your motivation, your goals, your dreams. We just got a decent score for international competitions and I… I messed up. He did his best and improved a lot. He could score high, to the top maybe, with the right partner… and I think you’re a better fit partner than I could ever be” she said in a weak sigh.

“But- I don’t even know your brother. And I’ve never done pair skating before! And most importantly- there’s no way I could fill in your place! Nobody can! I'm sure you’re important for your brother, and he doesn’t even know me! He won’t want me to pair with him anyway” Marinette protested.

“That’s my part. I’ll convince him to give you a chance. So I need you to give pairs skating a chance, too. You both still have a second chance in figure skating. And I bet you can reach the top in a few years'', Juleka smiled. Her eyes showed conviction in her words, but Marinette had doubts.

“Are you sure he-?” she started, but Juleka cut her, knowing how the question ended.

“I’m sure. Just give it a try. For me. For our friendship. I want you to skate on my behalf. Please... I’m begging you, Marinette. Just one week. One more chance. I’m sure you won’t regret it. No, I promise you won’t”

“Ok, Juleka… I’ll do it. Just one try. No more. I’m quitting if I can’t keep it up. Or if your brother doesn’t like me…”

“He’ll like you. He just needs to meet you.” she smiled in reassurance and Marinette hugged her.

Marinette, noticing the time, broke the hug and spoke again. "I have to go now, but I’ll come again next week. Get well soon, please”

“Thank you, Marinette. For coming and for accepting my selfish request. I’ll send you a message later.”

“Of course, you are still my dear friend, Juleka. Get well soon, ok?”

“I’ll try… Thank you for coming”, she answered, waving her goodbye. ‘Now I need to convince Luka…' she thought, eyeing her friend crossing through the door.

[cannoli-reader]

How is Nynaeve tied? How is Nynaeve ANY kind of a Mary-Sue? They have systematically stripped her of all abilities and accomplishments and made her look like a combative, petulant idiot in every scene!

In the books, her political authority in Emond's Field was firmly established, and while her leadership (as a 24 year old, serving as co-leader of the village, still very much learning on the job) was controversial among the townspeople, her skills at weather prediction and medical treatment were not. Furthermore, her presence dominated interactions (Rand did not notice his own girlfriend accompanying her, when his absorption and fascination with Egwene are a running joke among his friends), and her will was respected and feared.

On the show, she recites some drivel for a coming of age ceremony and pushes the recipient off a cliff as some sort of trial. Daise Congar, rather than a woman in charge of her family, and a staunch defender of Nynaeve's authority and the political power and rights of women in the village, is introduced as a sloppy drunk, and Nynaeve joins her at the table to quaff tankards, before she gets to speak her third line of the series. She does not lead the prayers for the dead, as might be expected from her book role, and since they showed her involved with that ceremony, there is no reason they could not have filmed it to highlight her leadership, but the show did not. They also had the innkeeper's wife give the speech to commence the festivities, while Nynaeve stood there watching.

Rather than hastily act to repair the damage Moiraine inadvertently causes Nynaeve's reputation by condescending to her out of ignorance, on the show, the Aes Sedai questions Nynaeve scrubbing rocks in a 'sacred pool' that is given reverence by absolutely no one but Nynaeve herself, and specifically questions this activity in relation to her alleged leadership. This is the only evidence on the show that Wisdom is an actual leadership position, rather than a peripheral religious one.

Nynaeve does not successfully treat a single injured person in the first season. Her first patient dies, she shows rather less efficacy in defending Egwene than the Aybaras in their fight, or Mat helping his sisters and she is hauled away by a Trolloc grabbing her braid when trying to help a second person. Later, her efforts to treat Moiraine are not definitive, merely biding time until an Aes Sedai properly Heals her. In the book, savvy readers will note that Nynaeve shows her understanding of sanitation, hygiene and triage, and demonstrates medical ethics in telling people what she is giving them, and assuring Lan that regardless of her personal feelings, she would never harm Moiraine as a patient. On the show, she refuses to do the former and withholds treatment of a patient until she gets what she wants.

In the books, Lan accepts her tracking, gives her a sincere compliment, she demonstrates the ability again by finding him & Moiraine and sneaking up on them and Lan later asks her help rescuing Perrin, citing her woodcraft skills. She then expands intelligently on her assignment to procure additional transportation, when she realizes they have more than one victim to rescue. On the show, her tracking is treated first as something requiring a trick, rather than simple skill on her part, then as a joke at the expense of Lan, whom she supposedly tracked and is finally revealed to merely have been through a trick after all, and Nynaeve did not actually track Lan.

In season 2, she makes pointless gestures of defiance in the Tower, including combat lessons with the Warders that have absolutely no payoff other than to have a couple of men lecture her on her attitude and mindset in her training. The lecture does not ever pay off either. Her Accepted test is simply a ridiculous exercise in narrative sadism, offering her no conflicting choices, simply running her through nightmare scenarios where there is no temptation to stay, and strong motivations to go through the arch, instead of the other way around. She is used as the camera PoV to give "depth" and "humanity" to Liandrin. This is done to such an extent that Liandrin is made into her mentor figure, the mover behind her promotion, rather than her own strength and the reason she escapes the Seanchan.

In the books, she asked several intelligent and pointed questions of Liandrin before having to give in out of loyalty to her friends, which shows that contrary to later accusations, she was rightly suspicious of the Black sister, she simply had no real choice about going along, given that loyalty. On the show, she is merely knocked out and carried unconscious to Tomon Head. Rather than escape the a'dam through quick thinking and quicker action, she does so by a combination of plot contrivances (the soldiers take her off the horse, but put her off to the side, and leave her there, rather than bring her to the sul'dam, or even in arm's reach of any Seanchan) and Liandrin cutting their bonds to spite Suroth and inexplicably defying her master who ordered her pet Accepted turned over to the Seanchan.

In the book, on Tomon Head, Nynaeve guides a sheltered princess in blending in with the commoners and infiltrating the base of the Seanchan expeditionary force, figures out how to remove an a'dam at great risk to herself, negotiates a deal for transportation in their escape, captures a sul'dam and penetrates the damane quarters to free Egwene and administer justice to a pair of captive sul'dam.

In the show, she and Elayne blunder into Falme, where they are snatched off the street by a man(!) who turns out to be the warder to Ryma, an Aes Sedai hiding out in the city. This Warder and Aes Sedai shelter the girls and procure an a'dam and Ryma leads the effort to study the collar in order to figure out how to open it. When she and her warder die pointlessly and stupidly, Nynaeve is merely a helpless and passive witness. Her capture of a sul'dam comes to nothing as their captive is killed by a random crossbow bolt. When Elayne also is shot, Nynaeve shows no sign of a trained and experienced medical professional, spending a lot of time fluttering her hands and ruining her raccoon makeup, before adopting the dubious treatment of pushing the entire bolt (fletching and all!) through Elayne's leg. She then acts as a human crutch to allow Elayne to grimly climb the tallest building in town in order to Heal Rand's Wound of Evil. Elayne did the Healing. Not Nynaeve. Nynaeve has not Healed a single person on the entire show, following her spontaneous and not-consciously-directed mass Healing when Logain broke out. Elayne Healed the Wound of Evil and Egwene has Healed Nynaeve from death by overchanneling in a link which isn't possible. Show!Nynaeve is officially the third most accomplished Healer of the Wondergirls.

She made no difference to the story in season 2, aside from helping Elayne after she got shot. There is absolutely no way you can call Nynaeve a Mary Sue on the show, unless you twist the definition to include her inexplicable promotion that happened because the books did it, and TV writers love nothing better than alternate reality scenarios to spare themselves the effort of writing a full season of plots. Also, we are told, not shown, that Nynaeve gets extra attention and help from the sisters.

[belit0]

Commission for @GlitterBomba!

Part 2 of this!! I don't feel it's as angsty as it should be, but for some reason, my creativity wanted it that way? It's been a long time since I've last written, and this was definitely a challenge... First part was produced way too long ago, so it was also challenging to connect with what I felt when I wrote it! But here it is, and I hope you like it, GlitterBomba. Thanks for trusting me!

My Ko-fi page~ Buy me a coffee if anyone wants part 3 ❤（っ＾▿＾）

It took you days to awaken from your deep sleep, days which became weeks, and weeks transformed into months. There was no hope for your life among the healers, but the tenacity and insistence of those elders who saved you forced them to continue providing methods and energy, herbs, talismans to keep you breathing.

Impossible to explain how that mortal blow did not steal your last breath, not when the perpetrator was the greatest tyrant in the current world, the monster everyone learned to fear and flee from. In the small place where you are kept hidden, rumor has it the treacherous one repented as soon as his hand affected your body, causing you not to succumb immediately.

It wasn’t until after he vanished, shrouded in lightning and hatred, when one of Ashura’s subordinates came upon the scene of your sad fate. A pool of blood acting as a bed over a pale body, devoid of any warmth and life. Everyone was quick to write you off for dead after such an event, and only when one of the village elders took your pulse did he find your incredible attempt to resist despite all odds.

Keeping you along with the new leader and his people would not be a good idea. Not when you barely escaped with your life from the beast. In case he came back and besieged his younger brother, it would be better if he didn’t find you there. That man proved to have an unquenchable thirst for revenge.

Tempting fate once is more than enough.

That led a group of elderly men, those who defended your slight pulse when everyone thought you were dead, to ask Ashura’s permission before disappearing and taking you to a safe place, making use of some of the village healers to ensure your health. 8 men of different ages vanish with you, swearing on their lives to do everything possible for you to open your eyes again.

Winters turned into warm seasons, and autumn leaves were waning. Two whole years quickly go by before your consciousness returns. The world is different. You understand through your guardians that life passed with you as a ghostly presence, a bedridden legend they fought all this time to preserve.

No one mentions what happened to you, though. No one names him.

To everyone’s surprise, you don’t really ask about the village; you don’t ask about your birthplace and your home. You don’t ask... about him.

Your healers discover you memory was damaged after exhaustive examinations beyond your comprehension. Theories why this happened are various in your little home; some argue the loss of blood hurt your brain, others believe the trauma of that betrayal forced you to block it all out, and there are those who think maybe you ignored the past on purpose.

Still, there is an unspoken rule forbidding the mention of what happened, of the village, of those two brothers. After experiencing hell, what would be the benefit of forcibly bringing you back to that horrible past? In this remote place, you have the chance to start from scratch, and your rescuers believe it is the least you deserve.

Little by little, you gradually learn everything all over again. Your own name, your age, information about those around you. You ask with animosity about everything you don’t understand, and the only thing there is reluctance to answer is when you want to know about who you were before... this.

Healers get the problem off their shoulders, rushing you to ask such questions to the older people. They shoo you out of their humble hut with nervousness and red faces, panic in their eyes.

Seniors sigh as they stare into nothingness, sadness and nostalgia, painting their countenances with something you cannot grasp. Some even drop a couple of tears to the rhythm of a depressing whisper, “oh poor child...”

The scene makes you feel so guilty you end up consoling them, assuring it’ s not a big deal and you don’t need to be told. That your life in this small place with them is all you need to be happy, past or no past.

Regardless, it is the scar monstrously painting your stomach which makes you uneasy. While tracing the edges of that sensitive skin with your fingertips, you feel its reason for existence is on the tip of your tongue. As if reminders of what happened to you are lingering there, buried in your head, but creeping closer to your memory every time you look at your navel.

What happened? What terrible thing could have left such an enormous mark on your skin, but not in your head?

It’s frustrating.

Eventually, curiosity to explore beyond your own narrow world peaks. It’s quite natural, considering four older men and four medicine buffs rarely make for an interesting group of company. Older men drink tea most of the day, when they’re not napping in the sun, of course. The rest read rigorously and debate among themselves about their newly gained knowledge.

Getting permission is a complicated task. They are terribly afraid of your departure, scared of your fate, frightened of what dangers you might encounter.

But how to keep you there forever, when you have seen the vivid movement the closest town has?

Perhaps it was your rescuers’ mistake for allowing you to go exploring within the boundaries they considered safe, yet you inevitably discovered such a place, so close and yet so far away, so full of people and... life. Persons of all ages walking from one side to the other, food you never saw before displayed in various stalls, children playing with each other, unaware of the surrounding universe. Everything looks completely natural, as if folks are used to this kind of lifestyle since long ago, and you wonder if you ever lived in a similar environment.

Just what hides in your past?

After insistence and great pleas against the overprotection imparted on you, they understand it is simply hopeless to make you give up your idea unless they expose all those shocking events, unless they explain from what kind of danger it is necessary for you to hide, from whom it is imperative you escape.

No one knew anymore about that demon after his disappearance the same day, and it is uncertain where he is. Whether he is hiding or far from your current home, it is unknown to anyone, and it would invoke bad luck if your guardians expected you to meet him face to face once you get away from them.

Preparation of weeks and many directions, you finally depart from your unnoticed hideout in the world, leaving behind anxious seniors and worried healers.

It was agreed you could explore for a couple of months, but your eventual return is a binding closure on the deal you reluctantly struck. Each new destination brings with it new discoveries, tastes, experiences. You always find charitable souls willing to help when you are short of food, water or shelter, people who offer to give directions when you get disoriented, people who share stories with you on lonely, nostalgic nights.

With each step you take in the outside world, less you understand what your guardians are afraid of. Everyone is well meaning, and no one seeks to take advantage of your innocence. It is incomprehensible why this was denied to you for so long, and every time you think of your precious little home, an emptiness grows in your heart.

Weeks slowly pass, and having experienced so much in such a short time, you find the need to recount it to those you consider your family. As initially agreed, it may be time to return, to prove the world is not as terrible as they feared.

A few miles from homeland, just as you feel you are walking the grounds of your family again, you stop at a stream to get a drink of water, determined not to slow down until you reach your destination. It is too much of a thrill to witness those 8 insane people bickering and arguing. You absentmindedly smile as you rinse your face.

In your distraction, you cannot hear footsteps approaching at your back. It’s not like you would have detected them if you were paying attention either, for the person stalking you is deliberately careful, calculating.

Turning, your face affects directly into a solid mass of muscle, sending you tumbling down the riverbank again. Any woman would have assumed the worst when connecting glances with a man who invades her personal space unannounced, but from your mouth comes a concerned “Are you okay?”

The man, who is watching you as if a ghost were sitting next to you in the water and you were unaware of it, bleeds. Profusely, indeed. Both of his hands are deeply cut, distinct wounds on his palms dripping thickly to the ground.

There is no answer to your question, and the man’s countenance is difficult to decipher. His eyes glow a red which fades too quickly to analyze, his complexion is completely pale and unhealthy, his hair points in all directions, forming a long brown tangle which you deduce has not been combed for some time. For moments, it is as if there are words trying to pierce his lips, but the stupor of the individual continues.

“Your hands... we really should take care of them, shouldn’t we? Aiya, let this humble one help you heal.”

There is no reaction as you stand up and take him by the arm, guiding him to a large rock away from the water and helping him to sit up. His gaze is still completely fixed on your face, searching for something you’ re oblivious to. His mouth opens and closes rapidly, agitated breaths accompanied by sounds resembling syllables.

“Look at this mess alone... sir, you should be cautious walking along the bed of these waters. They are treacherous, hm?”

Ripping off one of your sleeves, previously dampened when you fell into the water, you use the cloth to clean his wounds. There’s not much you can do here, out in the open and in these conditions, but judging by the man’s appearance, he was probably recently attacked. When you mention your little home a few miles away, the man doesn’t refuse or accept.  

Still, when you head back to the road, you find the fellow following you from behind, head down and staring at the ground. In his hands he tightly clenches the cloth of your sleeve, and blood stains the fabric completely at this point. You talk about the healers in your place, and how they can help him get better, but no matter how much you try, the man never responds. You ponder whether, perhaps, the situation he experienced before he ran into you may have been intense, and you attribute his perturbation to that.

After walking without pause all afternoon, your silent companion always keeping your own pace, your destination appears in front of you. From afar, you can see the elders sitting on the engawa of their cottage, sharing tea and quietly waiting for dusk. All is silent, and your announcement of arrival is the only thing disturbing the atmosphere.

Your arms wave vigorously to catch the attention of those you regard as family, a splendorous smile planted on your face, walking at an increased speed to catch up with them. An extended curtsey bow is given before them, and only after raising your head you dare to give them all a group hug, false formality forgotten as much as your guest.

The man slowly approaches this scene and analyzes the faces of those present as the embrace takes place. Had you not been turning your back on him, you may have noticed the change in his countenance, coldness creeping over his features from one moment to the next. None of the elders noticed his noiseless presence, not even having sensed it to begin with, and it is not until one of them finishes smiling and opens his eyes to come face to face with their worst fear.

Suddenly the hug is interrupted when this old man lets out a shriek, trying to back away and losing his balance. You follow his line of sight while turning, and find that innocent-looking stranger again, disoriented. There are screams all around you. Seniors are horrified and collapse on the floor next to each other, completely surrendered to the gaze of the demon fixed on them.

“Don’t behave like that! It would appear it wasn’t you guys who taught me manners... I’m so sorry, sir, they’re not used to dealing with travelers, let alone wounded ones... if you’d be so kind as to follow me?”

Throwing a withering glance at the group of elders, you direct your guest to the house the healers occupy. True, your little family is not used to encountering men in the state this very one is in, but you never expected such an exaggeration. A bit of unkempt hair and blood, pale skin, and they’re all screaming on the floor?

The reaction of the healers is not much different, and after reprimanding them for behaving so shamefully, you get them to treat the man’s hands. Leaving them alone so as not to disturb the setting, you make your way to the third and final cottage, your own. Since the other houses occupy four people each, it would be problematic to ask them to accommodate your own guest, and you take your time assembling an extra bed, improvising with blankets.

Nighttime is delightfully quiet, and as the door opens without warning, you greet the individual with a smile. Elders have taken the trouble to bring food for both you and him, announcing neither they nor the healers were in the mood to share dinner together.

The man’s hands are bandaged, his palms completely covered, and his thumbs trapped in the wrappings. He looks uncomfortable, and it shows in his inability to do anything on his own. His chopsticks are impossible to hold as he kneels on the floor and tries to eat, and after many urgings from you, he nods silently and almost imperceptibly, allowing you to help him.

“You see... you’re here, eating my food, under my roof, safe and comfortable... and I still don’t know your name...”

Teasing is imminent in your voice, hoping to relax him, if only a little. As he takes another bite and chews, his eyes are fixed on the table, like trying to hide from your presence.

After analyzing the end of your day alongside this presence, you assessed this man must be terribly shy, perhaps someone properly introverted. Still, observing his features, you get a strange familiarity, a feeling making you let your guard down and relax in front of him. A secret knocking at the door of your mind, demanding to burst in front of you but being invisible at the same time.

“... Uchiha...”

Without expecting an answer anymore, after several minutes, his voice surprises you. It sounds like that of someone who rarely uses it, raspy and rusty, as if it had been forgotten long ago, and not even the man himself remembers its ringing.

“Um?”

“Lord Uchiha...”

His name, you realize. Formal, a title.

Lord Uchiha continues in the same position, just like his words had been an illusion. It is impossible to keep giving him food, his attitude surly and refusing, and you wonder if he plans to spend the entire night in the same position if you allow him to.

Demandingly, you get him up and offer him your bed for the night.

He tries to take the spot you set up on the floor, and displays physical strength far beyond what you thought he had. There are firm muscles hiding under his stained white tunic, and they flex slightly every time he tries to change the course you both walk. He is probably holding back, you realize, for the way his forearm tenses. The stubbornness of this individual… as if he were someone unaccustomed to taking orders, leading rather than listening. Either way, he ends up tucked inside your room, buried under sheets and quilts so he doesn’t get cold.

You find your own resting place after closing the door and leaving your guest. There is not much room inside your small home, and yet, the greatest comforts are offered to those who really need them.

That night, a fearsome nightmare assaults your dreams. A pitch-black claw pierces your stomach from both sides, long nails tearing through skin and tissue like cloth. Blood pools at your feet, solidifying and making escape impossible. You feel your lips move in a choked scream, and a single word escapes your throat along with another red waterfall.

“... Indra...”

[kitkatopinions]

The only way I can see RWBY recovering in quality is if the island arc in volume 9 ends with seemingly days passing in the island world and a time skip in Remnant. The world of Remnant and their friends have moved on from the loss of RWBYJ in Atlas and have been dealing with Salem for 3 years or so. Gives the world time to heal from the damage RWBY+ caused in Atlas and with the broadcast and realize how much they fucked up following Ruby Rose blindly. Solves the age gap debates of Rosegarden if that's the ship they want to go with for Ruby and Oscar. Let's Sun move on from Blake organically and allows Blake to come to terms with any romantic feelings she had for him and how that chance is long gone. An opportunity for Salem to take control in a way that might not have been possible were it not for RWBY+'s actions in Atlas. Shows that the protagonists can fuck up and suffer consequences.

Ahhh, see, I specifically don't want a time skip because I think it likely will be a way to remove the affects of a bunch of the stuff that I want pay off for. You say that having the world have time to heal from RWBY + actions would be a good way to show the consequences, but I disagree with that. I think that'd actually be the quickest way to make Ruby's actions not matter and not seem important. Having her forced to see the full effects of her actions as the suffering is unfolding in front of her would be a way to get her to actually see for herself that maybe she's made some massive mistakes.

Can I paint a picture for you?

Ruby, Yang, Blake, Weiss, and Jaune get back from the island quickly, only a day having gone by for the people in Remnant. The refugees have just arrived in Vacuo, they lost tons of people trying to get through the desert, everyone is staggering with exhaustion as they move through the Vacuo streets, parents carrying their sobbing children, there are people throwing rocks at Winter and people trying to beg her to save them because they saw her fly through the gates and guessed that she was magic, there's sirens over a comm system in the city, trying to alert everyone to remain calm that's been going on for the hours it's taken to try and get everyone in and calm-ish in the first place. On top of that, the gates are flooded with guards working around the clock to keep Grimm out of the city, some of the exhausted Atlas hunters have gone there as well, Ren and Fiona and Team SSSN are desperately defending the last few hundred stragglers as they arrive. Ruby, Yang, Weiss, Blake, and Jaune are shocked, dismayed, they manage to get to the Academy where Nora is there with Oscar and Theodore, Theodore trying to get in contact with the Vacuo council in clear distress. Oscar tells them that everything has gone wrong, that everyone is panicking, that Vacuo was already struggling with keeping the Grimm away from the city when Ruby's message came, and with the addition of the refugees, the Grimm are coming in by the hundreds - by the thousands - almost more than the Vacuo authorities can fight back. Ruby is so confused, she'd been trying to reunite the world! But she just brought panic instead, and she now has to contend with that while seeing the immediate aftermath. She knows Qrow is missing, she tries calling him on her scroll, hoping she just missed him among the refugees. She and Yang are going crazy with worry, they think he might've been stuck in Atlas, he might be hurt, he might be dead, he might get captured by Salem, and they both have to face that. Being assigned by Theodore to help get refugees to the homes they've been temporarily assigned to squeeze into, Ruby is confronted by grieving families who lost everything, parents who tell her their daughter was one of the Atlas soldiers who died fighting on the front lines at Atlas, a couple with four kids spit at her and refuse her help because to them, her broadcast felt like a death sentence for Atlas while she called for hope for the rest of the world like they didn't matter. As she's traveling, Ruby runs into Neon and Flynt. They're angry and bitter too, coldly telling her that Ivori and Kobalt died in the fight against Salem. Ruby leaves that encounter wiping away tears. She wants to break down, but then gets assigned her next family to move and has to push it down and get back to work trying to do her job. Meanwhile Weiss has to deal with a brother who still clearly needs someone to help and take care of him when their relationship is somewhat rocky. Nora and Ren have to have distance and sort through what they want in their relationship and we see that and the immediate affects of their breakup. Salem has two Relics and Ruby has to explain that to Ozpin and maybe admit some mistakes and apologize while it's still relevant enough to matter to him. Emerald sees the affects of a lot of what she's done and has to contend with the fact that Mercury will be in Vacuo and she has to choose whether to try and help him or fight him instead. Mercury and Tyrian have to react in real time to the fact that the Atlas plans went completely sideways and now there's tons of people from Atlas here ruining whatever plans they have for Vacuo. Team RWBY work with Team SSSN while his and Blake's relationship is still clearly going to matter to him and he wants to continue where they left things and she has to explain her shift in feelings. Oscar is still contending with the fact that he and Oz are going to merge someday, asking questions about that. Salem must regroup now with so few people, and Cinder is going to have to try and keep up her lies in real time. Neo (if she survived the

island) is going to actually have to either get scrapped as a character or grow beyond her motivation of just wanting revenge. Winter is dealing with powers that are still new (remember, Maidens being 'new' is supposed to mean something) and having her whole world crash around her, while also maybe finally interacting with the family members outside of Weiss who have just had their entire way of life gone and now must adjust to sudden poverty. Qrow, Robyn, and the Ace Ops might have a storyline where they deal with what just happened themselves, maybe launching rescue for some of the people who didn't make it through the portals (like Pietro and Maria.)

These are all really important things that we should be expecting pay off for that should get focus and development. Ren and Nora's relationship problems, Oscar dealing with merging with Oz, how Cinder is going to regroup now, what will happen with Mercury, what the Schnees will do now they've suddenly lost everything, how Emerald is going to go on from her 'side switching,' how Qrow and Robyn reacted and where they'll go from here, whether or not Vacuo can even take in refugees, what the people think of RWBY and what consequences they've had to go through, and especially RWBY seeing the aftermath of the things instead of being allowed to just move on to the next thing and write it off as a victory like they did with Haven... All of that is something that we're likely to miss if we have a big time skip.

What I really don't want is for everyone to get back to the world after three to five years have passed only to see that it's doing pretty okay right now. Vacuo thriving with the Grimm population under control, and everything a little crowded, but most of the Atlas population settled in their new homes at this point, many of the important relationships of the side cast have been solved off screen and Maria, Pietro, and Qrow are already in Vacuo and have already adjusted to their various losses (both real for Pietro and believed for Qrow,) while (like you suggested,) Sun has just moved on from his dead former love interest he never got closure with that he promised to see again, because it has been years, and BlackSun fans like me see him in some relationship with someone he's never had any growth at all with (or maybe Neptune, which is... the preferable option over someone Sun's never actually talked to before.) Now Ruby doesn't see that her choices have caused major problems, instead she sees a city doing fine and if anyone is angry at her for causing them problems three to five years ago, they're mean. She's been supposedly dead for years and that person is just fine now! How can they yell at her? Now she doesn't see people suffering and Grimm flooding, she sees that her plan worked out in the long run, everyone just needed to hold on and have faith. She doesn't see a giant economic crash and families uprooted and soldiers dead and Pietro's reaction to the death of his daughter and people panicking over Salem... Ruby sees people talking about Salem as common knowledge, amassing troops to go after her now that the 'hard times' have started to pass, and she's validated. She knew it would turn out, she knew if she just believed, things would start working out!

I don't think the writers could save this show with a time skip, I think they'd just use it as a way to jump past the immediate affects of Ruby and her group's actions and avoid organic growth and problem solving while 'not being unrealistic' about it. If they brought RWBYJ back to Remnant within days, weeks, or even months, people expect real repercussions for the things that happened in the previous couple of seasons. They won't be able to just pretend none of it happened - or they might, but then most people will (hopefully) realize that's stupid.

So their choices are 1. just waving everything away and pretending there aren't any consequences to actions, 2. bring RWBYJ back in days, weeks, or months and address and deal with problems in a way that feels natural, 3. have a time skip so they can bypass the affects and consequences and avoid giving pay off for much of the things that fans have been expecting and waiting around for.

[secretpajamas]

a different kind of rush;

an Ezra x reader fic

pairing: ezra (prospect) x female reader

rating: explicit

genre: romance/smut/and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

words: 2.7k

part 1 of 2

please scroll to the end to “content” if you would like to know specific smut-related content before reading!

---

Ever since the rush ended, mining work was somewhat scarce. Most aurelac miners—the ones who didn’t strike it rich, had already squandered away their profits, or ones that worked under flat-rate contract and not profit-share—had been swept up by the large-scale mining companies at the Ephrate.

You, unfortunately, had a falling-out with the head of your crew shortly before the end of the rush, and you were left out in the cold with little more than the clothes on your back and the helmet on your head. 

Now you operated alone, picking up what seasonal jobs you could. The ones that payed more tended to be more dangerous—you had a good sense as to which jobs would require you to stash extra knives on your person and demand your own private tent. That demand would often eat into your wages, but it was worth the peace of mind.

You were coming up on the last of your income from last season, which is how you found yourself scouting shuttle stations for work. Most of the bulletins at the larger stations were already picked clean. Now, at one of the smallest stations in the Reach, you hoped against hope you’d find a decent job posting.

Mostly scrap haul jobs—one odd request for a live-in massage therapist, and you knew what that was code for—but when you were about to give up and move on, one last blip on the readout screen caught your eye.

seeking experienced miner for short-term contract work (one season). small-scale operation, compensation negotiable. food and board included. helmet must be supplied by employee, O2 freely available. radio callsign alpha-echo-six, will be monitoring channel 07:00 – 23:00 universal time.

It was contract work, not profit-share, but what the hell. It was the best you had come across in your search so far and you doubted you’d find anything better. Checking the screen, you noted it was nearly 23:00—but you pulled out your radio, entered the posted callsign, and gave it a shot.

“This is radio callsign alpha-sierra-two, inquiring about job posting on shuttle station R-Twelve,” you said into your device. “Is the position still open?”

You waited for a minute in dead silence before you heard the line crackle to life. “Hello, alpha-sierra-two,” a thick drawl replied. “Long as you can hold a pickaxe steady, the job’s as good as yours.”

---

When you met him, the first thing you noticed was the shock of blonde hair. Nobody out in the Reaches had much use for cosmetic hair products, so it must have been a natural occurrence of some sort. It struck you as profoundly odd—but also incredibly attractive. You took a deep breath and swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat.

The second thing you noticed—well. It was a little hard to miss.

“Name’s Ezra,” he said with a sly smile, extending his left—and only—hand.

You weren’t sure which hand you were supposed to shake his with. You decided on your left, to match his. It took some fumbling, but you managed a firm shake in the end. You introduced yourself and then let your hands drop.

“Sorry if that was weird,” you said, “I’m not used to shaking hands with my left.”

Ezra chuckled darkly. “Me neither, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Normally, you’d hate hearing that come from a man you’d just met. It would’ve felt like a belittlement. But not with this man—it just seemed to roll off his tongue without a second thought.

Then, you realized the implication of his statement. If he wasn’t used to shaking with his left, the loss of his right arm must not have been too long ago. In this line of work, any number of horrors could have caused it. You decided it was best not to dwell on the subject.

“Allow me to escort you to your quarters,” Ezra said, gesturing for you to follow.

He brought you to the only man-made structure within sight. He must have built it himself. He zipped the entryway door shut and clumsily removed his helmet with one hand. You swiftly removed yours, glad to get the sweaty thing off of you for the first time in hours.

The tent was sturdy and spacious enough to feel a little less like a hovel and a little more like a home. It was certainly nicer than most accommodations you’d been given on mining contract work before. There were two beds—well, just cushioned mats on the floor, but definitely an upgrade from a cot—separated by makeshift room divider in the form of a bedsheet tied between two of the tent supports.

“I can fashion a proper partition if you’d prefer,” he said, “the kid was prone to nightmares is all. Didn’t like feelin’ shut off. Took that tent wall down the next day, put the sheet up instead.”

“Kid?” You prompted.

“She’s livin’ in the Ephrate this season,” he said. “Got a scholarship to that fancy Academy an’ everything. Awful proud of her.” You could hear the fondness in his voice.

“That’s nice,” you said,  “she must have a good father.”

Ezra chuckled, the sound tinged with something bitter. “Unfortunately, I do not hold such a grand title,” he said. “Her parents are deceased. I am but her guardian.”

Oh.

“Well, get yourself settled and join me outside when you’re ready,” he said as he went to retrieve his helmet. “It’s not as complicated as aurelac, but it’s still a bitch to mine.”

---

After just a few days of harvesting starstone, you were inclined to agree with Ezra’s statement. It was an absolute bitch. If you so much as tapped it at the wrong angle it would completely lose its integrity. Then, as soon at was harvested, it had to be soaked in a complicated solution of enzymes so it would retain its color—if you waited too long to get it in the enzyme bath, it would turn pale and lose its shimmer. How the hell anyone managed to transport it without massive damages, you had no idea.

You voiced this to him. He simply shrugged. “Not my problem,” he said. “The buyer is arrangin’ her own transport. We just have to hand it off.”

“What is this stuff good for, anyway?” You asked.

“It’s pretty,” he said, “and if there’s one thing I’ve become privy to in all my years of prospectin’, it’s that all sorts of folk will pay a pretty penny for pretty things. ’Specially if those things are rare.”

“There’s no accounting for taste, I guess,” you mumbled, looking at the bright green and orange whorls of glittery stone around the two of you. Ezra snickered at your comment, and the sound of the raspy, almost boyish laughter made your stomach do somersaults.

“I can assume you have no such affinity for pretty things, then,” he said with a grin.

“Well,” you started, looking into those pretty brown eyes of his, “now and I again I might.”

Ezra just arched an eyebrow before returning to sifting through rock.

---

You and Ezra fell into an easy rhythm. He would wake up early to prepare the enzyme solutions for the day’s mining. You both mined as long as it stayed light out, going back into the tent as needed for a ration bar or a toilet break or just to rest your weary head for a minute. After dark, it was your responsibility to prep the filters and O2 tanks. As days turned into weeks, you found yourself finally adjusting to the man’s odd manner of speech, and even found yourself laughing at his dry wit.

And if you were honest with yourself, you were harboring quite the crush.

But this was job, damnit, and even if it wasn’t profit-share, Ezra payed far more than any other boss you’d had for contract work. You weren’t going to compromise that. A sexual relationship with someone who was technically your superior was never a good idea—you didn’t want to get yourself kicked off this planet without a full season’s pay.

This dwarf planet’s climate wasn’t as harsh and unforgiving as the Green. The air wasn’t breathable, which is why oxygen tanks and helmets were necessary, but there was nothing like the deadly moon’s dust you remember from the rush days. The one complaint you had: the weather was always hot, some days painfully so, and today was one of those days. You had both decided to cut the workday short and stumbled back to the tent, sweaty and exhausted.

You wrenched your helmet off of your head and immediately planted yourself in front of one of the air circulators. You heard Ezra’s helmet fall to the floor with a clank and several frustrated grunts as he began to unzip his suit. You knew by now not to offer help—even though it took him a long time to dress and undress, it seemed to be a point of pride to him that he do it himself.

You shucked off your own suit, leaving yourself standing in a sleeveless top and shorts. Cooler now, but still utterly worn-out, you all but flung yourself on your cot. You rucked up your shirt so you left as much of your skin exposed to the air as possible without stripping down to your underwear.  “Too fucking hot,” you grumbled.

“Preachin’ to the choir, birdie,” Ezra replied, finally kicking his suit off and out of the way. “Pardon my selfishness, but I’m inclined to take the first shower.”

You groaned, but you had taken the first shower yesterday, so you didn’t protest. Ezra took long showers—you guessed it was because of his arm situation—so you’d have to wait to get all the sweat and grime off. But hey—at least you had a shower. In some of your past gigs you had to wipe yourself down from head to toe with a wet rag.

The shower was attached to the main tent on the east-facing wall: your side of the sheet. Ezra walked by you to access it—he was shirtless, clad only in the pair of black compression pants he wore under his suit. You couldn’t help but sneak a look at him from where you lay—you had come to appreciate the broad expanse of his back and shoulders, his skin kissed all over with fading white scars, the little paunch of his stomach, and the dusting of dark hair that began below his bellybutton and traveled down beneath his waistband. He sighed and stretched before unzipping the partition and shuffling tiredly to the shower.

Seeing him half-naked had lit a spark in your belly. You swallowed thickly, your mind trailing into territory you usually reserved for late at night when Ezra was asleep. Yes, you were attracted to him—but it was more than just a baser instinct. Whenever you got yourself off in the past—or gotten someone else off—it had been quick and quiet and easily forgotten, something to take the edge off, to scratch an itch. You never really fantasized about romance or, Kevva forbid, love, but the longer you spent with Ezra, the more you caught yourself wondering what he would be like as a lover—if he’d hold you gently against his chest after, if he’d press a soft kiss to your forehead, if he’d tell you that you were beautiful.

You scoffed at yourself. Fantasies like that were for naive girls, not for a grown woman, especially not a world-weary miner who knew that men in the Reaches weren’t like that.

But maybe Ezra was different. He was already far different than any man you had ever met.

And maybe you could allow yourself the fantasy.

As you listened to the hum of the shower running, confident in your assertion that Ezra wouldn’t be out for some time—you snaked one hand down under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, rubbing at yourself in the way you usually did—in the way that would make you orgasm quickly. If you drew things out, that just gave your brain time to strike up ridiculous fantasies of Ezra making love to you.

Making love. There you go again. Why can’t you just call it fucking? But what you were thinking of wasn’t fucking—would he gaze into your eyes as he filled you? Would he whisper to you how good you felt, call you sweetheart like he did the first day you met—and nearly every day since?

Damn it, you said you wouldn’t think about it, but here you were. You rubbed yourself faster, just hoping to get this over with and move the fuck on—

“Shower’s all yours,” you heard Ezra’s voice ring out, and you froze. You didn’t breathe, didn’t move a muscle. How had you not heard the water turn off? How long were you daydreaming?

There was no way Ezra didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t even have the plausible deniability of having a blanket over you. You were so fucked.

You moved your head a tiny fraction to look at Ezra. He had a threadbare towel around his waist, precariously held by a twist-and-tuck at his hip. He was staring at you, wide-eyed and stock-still, as droplets dripped down his forehead from his still-wet hair. You weren’t sure he was even breathing.

Neither of you moved.

Then, Ezra licked his lips, flicking his eyes from your face down to where your hand was still stuck in your shorts, then back to your eyes again. Slowly, deliberately. He quirked an eyebrow at you.

You hitched your hips up a little under his gaze, almost involuntarily. He watched the movement with intensity.

Fuck. Was this really happening?

Ezra brought his hand up to his mouth, rubbing at his lower lip with his thumb. He looked to where your hand was trapped between your legs, and gestured with a nod.

With your heartbeat hammering against your chest, you began to move your hand again, eyes locked on Ezra. His breath hitched as he watched you touch yourself, his eyes intent on your body, pupils blown wide and dark.

You rubbed at your clit, your legs tensing as you brought your hips up to press into your hand. Unable to help it, a moan escaped your throat, and Ezra answered back with a low hum of his own.

Hearing him respond to you made your body light up like lightning. You closed your eyes and sucked in frantic bursts of air. The oppressive heat around you was unbearable, the pressure building in your core even more so. Your pulse roared against your eardrums as you frantically worked at your clit, almost sore now, needing to come now more than ever, needing that release—

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Ezra said, and the sound of his voice had you coming hard, thighs shaking. You chased your high as long as you could, clit nearly rubbed raw, until you winced at the overstimulation, dropping your hips back to the bed and letting out a heaving sigh. Almost in a daze, you opened your eyes, chancing a glance at Ezra. He was staring down at you as if he’d seen Kevva’s gates open up before him. He was also visibly tenting his towel, holding onto where it was tied at his hip in a vise-like grip.

“I’m,” you started, catching your breath, “I could use a shower now.”

“As very well could I,” Ezra replied as he shifted his weight back and forth, voice strained, “an’ a cold one at that. But I’d be remiss to waste the water.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. About the shower or the impromptu peepshow, you weren’t sure.

“Quite alright. But don’t be alarmed if you emerge to find me in a similar position when you’re done in there,” he remarked, gesturing to the shower with a jerk of his head.

You planted your face in your pillow, mortified beyond belief, hot shame washing over you. Ezra simply chuckled.

“No reason to be embarrassed, sweetheart,” he said. “Close quarters make for... sticky situations such as these.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled as you stood up, walking past Ezra to make your way to the shower.

What the fuck just happened?

---

a/n: this was supposed to be a quick smutty oneshot (oops) but it was getting long so I’ve split it into two parts! Part two should be out by the end of this week.

content: masturbation, voyeurism (but is it voyeurism if both parties are aware of the voyeur-ing?)

READ PART 2 HERE

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 2

Word Count: 4,247

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Smut, Please read the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning and Pens

Notes:  Ok so here we go with Part 2. I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m trying to add some of the suggestions that I’ve gotten in. Please feel free to send me an idea if you have it and I will try and work it in. Also I would love your feedback on this, as well as tell me what players you want to see. With that Happy Reading!!!

As you made your way down the long hallway to Conference Room three, you realized that you didn’t pack enough flats for these next several weeks. If things were going to happen this fast you definitely needed to ditch the heels for a pair of running shoes instead. You couldn’t imagine what had gone wrong in this short amount of time. By your calculations, the Capitals should be in there now having dinner. The Pens were Conference Room one, two was being cleaned from when the Flyers were in there and then the Lightning would go in, and the Bruins should’ve been long out of three before the Caps even went in. Even though you had everything timed out to the minute with ample time in between, you knew things were bound to go wrong, but you didn’t expect to see your conference room in complete shambles.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked Alexis as you took in the room. Food was thrown everywhere. It was on the walls, on the floor, and on the plexiglass where your servers stood; it was even on the players, even though there were only a few of them in the room itself at the moment.

“Well, you see those guys there,” Alexis pointed to a table where David Pastrnak, Brad Marchand, and Charlie Coyle all sat. “They were still eating and I had the room cleaned just like you said, but let them go because the plane was late. I totally thought they’d be done before these guys showed up.” You looked over to where Tom Wilson, TJ Oshie, and Jakub Vrana sat, some green vegetable hanging off the shirt of Oshie. “They said it wouldn’t be a problem and I only left for a second, when I came back they were already throwing food at each other.”

“Where’s the rest of the team?”

“I sent them over to Conference Room one since it’d already been cleared out.”

“Alright, go make sure everything is fine with everyone else and I’ll handle this.” Alexis scurried out of the room, as you surveyed the damage. “Alright which one of you guys started this?” They all acted like you hadn’t said a word. It was seriously like dealing with a bunch of kindergarteners. You walked over to the Bruins table first. “It’s a little ironic is it not, that they call you Pasta?” you said picking noodles off of David Pastrnak, his shoulders shook as he tried to contain his laughter. Maybe you’d have luck with the Caps players. “What about you? You guys have anything to say?” When no one said anything, you had no choice but to say. “Look you know I can go to the league with this and you guys can be sent home.” While it was true that you could do this, you doubted a little good fight was going to get anyone sent back. “But I don’t want to do this, we’re only a few hours into this...guys, can’t we try and make this work?” They seemed to mull this over yet still no one said a word. “Fine, you and you,” you said pointing the Wilson and Pastrnak. “Come with me. The rest of you have five minutes to get to your rooms.”

“Why us?” Pasta asked.

“It’s obvious, you two started it.” They both seemed taken back by the statement, so you explained further. “You both have more food on you than anyone else.”

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Oshie muttered and you were barely able to contain the laughter that bubbled inside you.

“Now, I suggest you get going as your down to four minutes.”

“But I haven’t even got to eat yet,” Vrana whined.

“Call room service.” You then told a few of the staff to clean up the mess and close off the conference room until the morning, then turned to the two culprits that were picking food off themselves to the side. “Come with me.” They turned and followed you up to your suite, which had basically become your makeshift office. Once you were inside, you turned to both of them. “Now, tell me what this is about?”

“No way you have a pool table,” Wilson stated. God, men could be so simple-minded at times. They got so easily distracted.

“Yes, Tom, it’s a pool table. Now can we focus on the matter at hand?”

“I’ll play you? Whoever wins has to follow through with the bet.” Pasta immediately said, as if you weren’t even in the room.

You stuck your thumb and index finger in your mouth, squealing out a high-pitched whistle for the boys’ attention. They both turned in your direction then. “Now that I have your attention. You’re not here to play pool. You’re here to tell me what the hell happened in my conference room and how it will never happen again.”

“You know you’re even hotter when you’re angry.” All you could do was roll your eyes and cross your arms, at Wilson’s comment. He must have noticed your impatience, for he finally added. “Look it’s a stupid bet we had last season, that he didn’t follow through on when he lost, that’s what started the food fight.”

“I didn’t lose.” Pasta insisted. “I won, and you know it.”

“You did not.”

“Woah, stop!” You hollered as the two started to bicker back and forth. “Are you saying this can all be settled with a game of pool?”

“Yeah!” They both answered simultaneously.

“Perfect, then have at it.” You motioned to the pool table and Pasta headed in the direction only to be stopped by Tom’s arm.

“So, what’s in it for us?” He asked.

“I’m sorry what? I’m giving you the opportunity to solve your damn problem.” You fairly spat the words at him.

“Yeah, but you’re also getting something out of this. I’m just thinking that we could all get a little something out of this.” He looked over at Pasta, who seemed to catch on to his meaning.

“What exactly do you want? It’s not like I have a ton to offer, and don’t forget I can still turn you both into the league.”

“Nothing major, just a little kiss.” Why you were surprised when Tom suggested that, you weren’t entirely sure. Let’s face it, you knew they were stuck in this bubble without female companionship. Hell, you were in the same situation, well maybe not the same since you were surrounded by a bunch of hot NHLers. You just didn’t expect this so early in their quarantine here.

“Fine, but after this stupid bet is settled.” They nodded their agreement, then headed over to the pool table. You barely paid attention to the game, texting Alexis to make sure everything was running smoothly downstairs; which it was. It seemed that Pasta was stripes and Wilson was solids, and it definitely seemed like Pasta had the upper hand. When you finally gave your full attention over to the game, you couldn’t help but notice when Tom leaned over the table how nice his ass was. Both men were well-toned and muscular in all the right places and you knew it wouldn’t be a hardship kissing either of them or anything else for that matter. When David stretched out to make a shot, you noticed his tattoos and your fingers itched to trace them. To say you were getting hot and bothered by these two men was an understatement.

The game started to get intense as fewer and fewer balls were on the table. Pasta missed his shot, turning it over to Tom; who literally started to run the table. It was as if he couldn’t miss. Finally, he was down to just the eight ball. If he made the shot, he would win and the game would be over. He took a deep breath, the action making you take notice of how his shirt strained against the muscles of his chest. Lining the cue up, he took the shot, and the black ball sunk into the pocket just like he had called. A bark of laughter left Tom’s lips. “I told you I was the winner before. Pay up Pasta.”

You had to admit, you were curious how much money was on the line that would cause all this trouble. David, for his part, just shook his head and pulled out his phone. It must be a huge sum if he had to transfer it from his bank account. “What do you want me to tweet?”

“I’m sorry did you just say tweet, as in Twitter?”

“Yeah,” Tom said looking at you as if you were the one that was out of your mind and not him. This whole damn mess was over a stupid Twitter message. You literally wanted to scream, but instead, you just listened as Tom told David what to say. “All it has to say is, ‘In my opinion, Tom Wilson is the best goal scorer in the league.’”

“Done,” Pasta announced shoving the phone in Wilson’s face. You had to lean over Tom’s shoulder so that you could see it as well, for you still couldn’t believe your entire conference room was in shambles over something so juvenile.

“Well, now that, that’s settled boys, I assume I won’t have any more problems from the two of you in my hotel.”

“Oh, you still have your part of this bargain,” Tom said, gliding the back of his finger down your arm. You suppressed the shiver the sensation gave you.

“Alright, who’s first then.” You were never one to back down from a bet and this was no exception.

“By all means,” Tom motioned for Pasta to go first.

David took a step toward you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist as he pulled you close to him. Your hand pressed against the rock-hard muscles of his chest before making its way to the back of his neck. He brushed a lock of hair from your face, then placed his hand gently on your cheek to caress it before his lips came down on yours. The kiss was gentle, yet firm at the same time and you opened tentatively so that he could slide his tongue into your mouth. His hand which rested at your back pulled you in closer and you went willingly. You had a feeling if Tom wasn’t watching this would turn into something more than just a kiss. But Tom was watching and waiting, and you weren’t willing to give David anything more with an audience. So you gently broke away, allowing him to chase your lips with a few last kisses.

“You may have won the little pool match Wilson, but I doubt you’ll win anything more with this one here.” Why did everything have to be a competition?

You turned toward Tom, fully expecting him to take you in his arms and kiss you senseless. Instead, he grabbed you around the waist only to whisper low in your ear. “Another time princess, maybe when we don’t have eyes on us.” He released you then but then turned back. “I will be back for that kiss you owe me.”  With that the two left your suite, leaving you a bit dazed and breathless, and longing for that kiss as well.

Shaking yourself, you brought yourself back to the present and what needed to be done at the hotel, instead of daydreaming of what kissing Tom Wilson would be like. A quick call to Alexis told you that all the players had eaten but there were still a few milling about in each of their designated workout areas. You slipped out of your business attire and opted for a comfy pair of leggings with an oversized shirt to make one more round through the hotel before calling it a night.

You ran into Carly in the lobby. “So how’d everything go on your end? Any outlandish requests for something to be brought in?”

“Not so far. I think the Pens want some extra gym equipment, but I’ve got it covered.”

“I knew I put the right woman in charge.”

“Speaking of being in charge? What the hell happened with Conference Room 3?” You rolled your eyes.

“Food fight.”

“Oh, I heard that. I also heard you took two of them to your room?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you suggestively before elbowing you in the ribs.

“Had to get everything straightened out.”

“And…”

“And maybe, I might have kissed one of them.” She gave you a mocked look of shock.

“Nothing else?”

“Not at the moment, though I do owe the other one something, and let me tell you I won’t mind paying off that debt at all.” Just the thought of Tom holding you had you hot and bothered. “And on that note, I’m going to finish up down here before calling it a night. I think Tim has the night shift tonight if anyone needs anything.”

“Yeah, he does. He’s back in the office, making sure things are ready for breakfast. I just told him I was done for the night. I’m heading off to bed, don’t have too much fun down here.”

“Me, what about you, Car? There’s not some hot NHLer waiting in your room?” She headed for the elevators but turned back to answer you.

“Not tonight, but tomorrow could be a whole other story.” With that, she was gone as the elevator doors slid open and shut again.

You headed off to make sure the conference rooms were fine. When you noted that everything was in place, you went to check on the workout rooms. They were supposed to be cleaned periodically throughout the day, but with being open twenty-four seven; you wanted to make sure housekeeping wasn’t slacking. A quick walk past the Capitals and Pens rooms showed that no one was in there and they were spotless. As you went into the Flyers' workout facility, you could see someone inside. You tried to cough discreetly as to not scare them, but they didn’t hear you. The room had a few mirrors around it, but he happened to not be looking in any of them as he was doing squats with some free weights. He had his shirt off and a tight pair of shorts on, that let you see every muscle as he crouched down working on his quads and other various leg muscles. A few droplets of sweat had formed on his body and you itched to dry them off for him. Your mouth went dry the longer you stared at him as you were trying to make out the tattoo on his arm. It was at that moment that he caught you staring, a knowing smiling crossing his face. “Sorry…” you stuttered out after being caught red-handed.

“I’m not.” He dropped the weight down on the bench beside where he was working out before grabbing a towel and wiping off the sweat on his body. “Did you come to use the equipment or did something else bring you here?”

“Something else,” you realized the mistake as soon as the words left your mouth. “I mean…I was…” In a few short steps, he was standing in front of you and suddenly you couldn’t quite remember why you were there.

“Something else works for me.” He leaned his hand against the wall behind your head; his body so close you could feel the heat coming off of it.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself, as you didn’t need this man to get under your skin as much as he was. “I was just making sure everything was fine in this room. I didn’t mean to disrupt your workout. I’ll let you get back to it.”

You made a move to back out the door when he grabbed your hand. There was an electricity in his touch and had you both looking down to where his hand touched your body. “Don’t go…I mean, I was done…” It was nice to see he was just as flustered as you were for a moment. It put you both on an even playing ground after you’d been caught staring at him. “I’m Travis by the way, most people call me TK.”

“I know.” You replied, before adding. “Konecny from the Flyers.”

“Well, now you have me at a disadvantage.”

“I’m (Y/N). I manage the hotel.” You said almost extending your hand to shake his and then realizing that wasn’t acceptable at the moment.

“Oh, so you’re the one in my little handbook to call if I have any problems.”

“That’s me. Here to help you in any way I can.” You let the innuendo hang in the air a bit and you saw its meaning wasn’t lost on him.

“So if I told you there was a problem in my room, would you send maintenance to come look at it or would you do a thorough inspection yourself?” Oh, he was smooth, you had to admit that.

“Well, it wouldn’t make sense to call maintenance when I’m right here, now would it?”

A raise of his eyebrows was your answer back before he went over and grabbed his shirt and belongings. “Then I think we should definitely go check out that problem.” His hand went to the small of your back as he led you out of the room and to the elevators. “I’m in room…”

“Five-twenty,” you supplied.

“Should I feel special that you know that?”

“Do you want the honest answer?” He shook his head yes. “No, it’s my job to know who’s in what room. In case you haven’t noticed this whole thing is kind of a big deal. I have all my I’s dotted and my T’s crossed.”

“So you know every guys' room number here?”

“It sounds a little pathetic when you put it that way.” Maybe pathetic wasn’t the right word, but desperate was one you didn’t want to use.

“No, I’m actually impressed.” He tilted his head looking over at you as you pressed the number five in the elevator. “So if I asked you what room Brad Marchand was in you’d say?”

“That I can’t tell you that, but it’s in the teens and about three floors up from you.” He chuckled softly and you realized you liked the sound of his laugh.

The two of you walked in silence the rest of the way to his room. Thankfully, there weren’t any players milling about in the hallway. “This me.” He said when you were in front of his door. He fumbled with the key, then opened it.

“What seems to be the problem? TV not working? View not to your liking?” You teased and he caught on quickly.

“Actually, it’s the mattress. I swore I heard it squeak earlier.” He tossed his t-shirt and keys on the dresser.

You moved to the bed, pressing on the mattress. “Hmm, seems fine now.”

He grabbed at your waist then, pressing you close to his body. “But see, I’m a very active sleeper. You can’t get the full effect unless you’re on the bed.” He tossed you back onto the mattress and a giggle escaped your lips. Travis crawled on the mattress then, stalking his way up your body. “Didn’t seem to do it then either. I think we’re going to have to give it a thorough workout.”

“But of course, I mean I want you to be completely satisfied with our hotel service.” A half-smile appeared on his face for a split second before his lips were crashing down on yours. His lips were soft yet sure, and you opened immediately for him; his tongue sweeping inside to tangle with yours. He was a good kisser, that was your first thought, and you wouldn’t mind just doing this all night. But then he was pressing his hips into your body and realized you wanted more. Your hands glided up his back, feeling his slightly damp skin from his workout.

He finally broke the kiss, both of you needing air. His hands gathered your shirt, but then he stopped himself. “Can I?” You moaned out a yes, wanting as little clothing between your bodies as possible and he hauled you up so he could take the oversized shirt off. “This is pretty.” He commented, while lightly tracing the lace of your bra. “I think I’d like it better off though.” Travis hands worked around to your back unclasping your bra and toss it to the side. “Fuck, these are perfect,” he breathed out as he drank in the sight of your breasts. His mouth was on them then, taking a peaked nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. A moan left your mouth and you could feel yourself growing wet as he continued to lavish your breasts.

Snaking your hands around his neck, you drew him back down onto the mattress with you. He rolled you both onto your sides, his mouth coming back to yours so he could kiss you again. Neither of you was in a rush, as your hands ghosted along his chest and his played with your nipples. Time sort of stood still, as the two of you just laid there kissing slow and sensually. After a while, Travis pushed you back against the mattress, your legs on either side of his waist. He flexed his hips into your clothed core and you felt a rush of wetness between your spread legs. He continued to roll his hips into you, as his mouth alternated between your breasts. You lay there panting and moaning with each flex. “TK…” you finally breathed out. “Stop teasing.”

“Oh baby, you haven’t seen me tease yet.” As if to prove his words, he sat back on his legs and started to remove your leggings. He only rolled them halfway past your hips, then brought the waistband up before snapping it back down on your core. Heated flooded you there and the moan that left your mouth was almost obscene. “You like that?” and he repeated it one more time before stripping of you of both your panties and legging. “Fuck yeah you do. You’re soaking.” He didn’t have to even touch you to see how wet you were. He wasted no time, inserting two of his fingers in you as his mouth sucked on your clit. You about came off the bed. He continued to work his fingers in and out of your body as his tongue made kitten licks on your nub. You could feel your body tingle as the orgasm started to build. It hovered there, just beyond your reach and you threaded your hands in TK’s hair urging him on; only to have him stop.

“Travis…” you whined out.

His eyebrows shot up. “That’s teasing babe.”  You groaned in frustration as his fingers left your pussy. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it better in a sec.” He pushed his shorts down his hips, then kicked them off. His mouth coming up to cover yours and you could taste yourself on his lips. With one smooth glide forward, his cock pushed into you; your hips rising up to meet him. “Fuck you feel good.” He moaned out, then started to pump in and out of your body. It was a slow pace at first as he was building up a rhythm for the both of you to follow. “Yeah babe, that’s it.” He praised as you met each of his thrusts. The combination of his teasing beforehand and steady pace, had you back on the edge in no time. Travis leaned in close to your body, your faces merely inches away. “Come on baby…I know you’re close….” He sped up then, his cock hitting that sweet spot perfectly. “That’s it.” You went to scream as a wave of pleasure washed over your body, but he captured your mouth swallowing the sound down as he came with you. He pumped inside you a few times, just reveling in the feel of your pussy clenching around him, before breaking the kiss so you both could breathe. When he was finally spent, he collapsed onto his side, rolling you with him. “That was…”

“Mmm, I agree.” You whispered back. “Though I don’t think your mattress has any problems.”

He laughed and you felt the vibrations in your body, as he held you close to him. “Who could tell with all your moaning.” He teased back then flicked your nose.

“Me? I wasn’t the only one.”

He shrugged a shoulder as if he didn’t want to admit he was just as loud as you. “Hope the walls are thick here.”

“They’re decent, just don’t give me away if Hart asks you any questions in the morning.”

He laughed out a, “never.” You pecked him on the lips, then started to get out of bed. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got things to do.”

“Things or other people?” You couldn’t quite tell if he was teasing or jealous.

“Things… but you have my number if the mattress suddenly starts squeaking again.” You gave him a wink as you shimmied on your leggings and threw on your shirt.

He grabbed your hand and brought you down so your face was inches from him. “I have a feeling it may act up again.” His lips were on yours kissing you hard and fast.

“I’ll be waiting for your call.” With that you headed out the door, quietly shutting it before walking down to the elevator. Well, day one was definitely interesting. You couldn’t wait to see what day number two would bring.

[bunny-wk-fanfic]

Some News & Explanations

So, it's been a while, near a year I think, since I last posted anything really 'major' here or anywhere else. I did share a few pieces over on FF.net, but I wanted to explain the reason I was basically MIA for the past year.

2020 started off on a bad note for me and my family, which had nothing to do with the pandemic. Nearing the end of 2019, we noticed that my grandfather was not doing so well, and after learning that he had suffered a stroke and told no one, not even our family doctor, things quickly went south. Multiple tests were done, and each time he got worse and worse, until finally after New Years, he was finally diagnosed with ALS. Now those of you who don't know, it's a crippling disease. If you're young, you have a chance at a long life with treatment and medicine. If you're over 50, it's aggressive, quick, and painful. We literally watched my grandfather whither away for three months before he finally passed away in March.

March 2020 was shitty all around. My grandfather passed, his funeral was held a week later, although it had been delayed as Corona had just been declared as a pandemic so heavy lockdowns had been put into effect here in Germany. And to add insult to injury, some ass used a 'legal loophole' to swindle money out of me by claiming I was parked on private property. I did pay it, forgetting I did have insurance/coverage to help me for such situations, but when you're in mourning, thought process is pretty much nonexistent.

April 2020 was the first time I was affected by the pandemic as the company I was working with at the time had to close for two weeks since a few workers had tested positive as well as a lack of workers since some did come from France but were unable to cross the boarder due to the harsh lockdowns.

May 2020 things were looking a little on the bright side as I could officially move into my now apartment. Not only due to the fact that my sister finally found her own apartment close to where she was going to school and work, but because city hall was once again open and I could register to be a citizen of the city. Only to discover the apartment not only had water damage, but mold as well. Which was made worse since the landlord mentioned he did not have house insurance. Which is a big No-No here in Germany. Regardless if you live in the space or not, if you own it, you are required to have it insured in your name. Let's just say it made fixing it up and getting paid due to damages was made difficult because of his lack of insurance.

June 2020 I was once again living with my parents since the apartment needed to be cleaned and dehumidified. So, I was under stress since I was living out of their office and out of a duffle bag.

July 2020 I could finally move into the apartment and register with the city. Along with getting house insurance, since, as a tenant, I would need that, and it would help should any other issues crop up.

August 2020 I had to go through the process of quitting with the temp firm in order to be signed on officially with the company I was working with/for. It was a process as I was constantly asked for various forms of my resignation letters as well as various forms of sending it in.

September 2020 my car broke down. I could drive maybe for 15 minutes before the engine overheated. Which was enough time to get from work, to my parents, and from their place to our mechanic. He shared with me that the cooling system for the engine was basically leaking. It could be fixed for anywhere between 1000 - 2000 €, but with how old the car was, it wasn't worth it since he spotted other issues that would later cause problems that would either need to be fixed or replaced altogether. For an imported car from the US, it would be a timely and costly in the long run, so I needed to buy a new car.

October 2020 finally got a new (used) car which I'm happy with, still am to this day. Only to be laid off at the end of the month. The reason being was the low numbers of our product from the year; not just due to the pandemic, but also from a fire happening at a sister factory that slowed in us getting the supplies needed for us in production. All of which they had known since September, when they hired me on.

November 2020 went back to the temp company and immediately got a new job. Along with that, the restrictions that had been slightly lifted during the summer were once again in effect, along with a curfew.

December 2020 was actually calm, and I used this time to finally relax with my family.

January - March 2021 basically this is Germany's tax season, and I discovered that my temp company failed to give me my tax papers, so running around there. I was mostly quiet during this time, so I had planned on returning to both here and fanfic in general as I was comfortable with the company I was working with. Until they announced that they would be closing the location I was working at and moving their operation to a city that is literally in the middle of nowhere and would take me some 2 hours to travel to get there.

April 2020 was spent negotiating a new place to work with my temp company.

May - June 2020 a new job, a bit further away than I would have liked, but the work was alright and my coworkers were sociable. Until I was let go. And this was with the company lying to my temp firm, that I was caught playing on my phone during working hours. Which is impossible when you're working on a machine that needs to be watched, otherwise it was likely to jam. I learned the truth when I went in the next day to return my time-stamp chip that it was due to the reason that the next week there wouldn't be enough work to keep me. My temp firm said they might cross the company off their list of potential partners when I shared that bit of information, along with a few other details.

July - August 2020 so new job, closer to home, better pay, and with a few old coworkers from the company that wanted to close shop and move away. (I later learned they want to return back down to the area I live in, so, who knows what's going on with the higher ups). My family and I are also in the process of changing insurance brokers, as our old one was swindling us out of money, which we wouldn't have known if he had bothered to take the time to reply to our calls or messages or simply let us know that he wouldn't be in his office at certain times for whatever reason. Seriously, a simple 'I'm currently unavailable today, please contact me tomorrow' or 'I'll be out of office between XX to XX. Please wait until I return to ask any questions or address any issues' would have been better than waiting weeks to a month for a reply of any kind.

I'm sure I've explained this at least at some points during the past year, but then things just kept happening. Which then postponed and delayed my return more and more. I humbly apologize because of this and I ask for everyone's forgiveness. I do hope to return sooner rather than later, and if things continue to look as positive as they have these past two months, it looks like I'll finally be able to do so.

TM;DR 2020 sucked for more than just because of the pandemic, and hopefully I'll return sooner rather than later.