#this is like draft 100 cause I didn’t want it to look busy

[dark-witch-zizou]

Idk if I like this but I’m sick of working on it lmaoo

[dollycas]

Special Guest Holly S. Roberts - Author of Breach: A Terrifying Summer Adventure @hollysrobertsauthor - Great Escapes Book Tour #AuthorInterview #Giveaway

Breach: A Terrifying Summer Adventure by Holly S. Roberts I am delighted to welcome Holly S. Roberts to Escape With Dollycas today! Hi Holly, Please tell us a little bit about yourself. I was born dyslexic and read my first complete book at twelve. I turned my love of reading into a career and purchased an independent bookstore in my twenties. I owned the store for twenty years but there was something caused by an experience in my childhood that I needed to do and I was running out of time. At age 45, I went to the police academy and lived my dream a few years later as a homicide and sex crimes detective. I became one of the leading experts in the state on predator behavior. On the advice of a very good therapist, I began writing and I haven’t stopped. I retired from law enforcement in 2014 and turned writing into a fulltime career. What are three things most people don’t know about you? I’ve been hiding my newfound love of Taylor Swift. No embarrassment but its special so I’ve been keeping it to myself. The only other secret I can think of is I haven’t missed a season of Survivor since the first episode. I’m running out of time to apply for the show but I can’t stop thinking about it. Maybe. What books/authors have most inspired you? There are so many but back in my bookstore days I was lucky enough to have a parttime gig for some major publishing houses and drive authors around the Phoenix area. Amazingly they paid me to do this. Three authors I spent time with inspired me to write: Lee Child, Jeffery Deaver, and Iris Johansen. I can’t thank them enough and I learned so much. What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book? Research is one of the best parts of being a writer and I like to challenge myself by learning more than I could possibly ever write in a book. My research can start as far back as a year before I write a word but it always continues through the first draft. Do you ever suffer from Writer’s Block? I really don’t. There are so many stories floating in my head if one isn’t working I can switch to something that does. What advice do you have for someone who would like to become a published writer? Write until you become great at it. I’m still working on that part and I will until I write my last word. Study the best, find your own techniques. Listen to other authors but throw away what doesn’t work for you and grab what does. Write bad stuff, write silly stuff, write good stuff. Just write! When you are not writing what do you like to do? I’ve been involved in martial arts for many years and I love Sinawali sticks and practice religiously. I also love gardening which keeps me busy during the spring, summer, and fall. Then there are my two big goofy dogs who keep me company and give me slobber kisses when I’m down. If you could travel anywhere in the world where would you go and why? We own 100 acres off grid and it’s where I go to recharge. No phone service or internet but incredibly silent in its beauty. Oh and I hunt for rocks there, a small obsession of mine. What is next on the horizon for you? Before Covid, I owned a martial arts gym and taught self-defense to women. Sadly the gym didn’t survive. I’m looking forward to teaching again in someone else’s gym. I’m at a point in my writing career that I’m working on books I’ve wanted to write for years. That will continue and there’s a special book that may take a decade to finish but I won’t know until I put the first word on paper. Thank you Holly for visiting today. __________ Keep reading for more information about Holly's new book Breach. I read the book earlier this week and I can't wait to share my review with you. Be sure to come back Tuesday for it. I will tell you the story has stuck with me and I have pushed my husband to read the book too so we can discuss it.  About Breach Breach: A Terrifying Summer Adventure Psychological Thriller Setting - Off the coast of California Publisher ‏ : ‎Independently Published (March 22, 2024) Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 202 pages ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8320606989 Digital: Wicked Story Telling (June 20, 2024) ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CQYXJ3T1 Craving the vastness of the open sea, Kate and her family set out on a journey of forgiveness and healing aboard Ryan's Gift, their newly remodeled yacht. After a tragic accident, it’s imperative that Kate returns to the ocean, the place she once called home, in an attempt to restore her spirit. In the middle of their idyllic voyage, the nightmare begins. With no power or communication, a monster lurks below the surface and the family must find a way to defeat the darkness before it destroys them. Experience this gripping story of a family's fight for survival and a terrifying reckoning from the deep. Excerpt "Eighteen months had passed since the accident that left Kate with an incomplete spinal cord injury, taking away the use of her legs. The rehabilitation center staff had believed her fortunate for retaining some sensation below the waist, but Kate had never felt unluckier" . "Kate examined the water looking for a dorsal fin. Slight waves from the Sea Doo rocked the yacht. She wheeled herself frantically toward the stern, her pulse hammering as the real threat lurked unseen below"​​. "Kate's voice was a whisper, her hands tense on the wheels of her chair. 'Ryan, hold on,' she breathed as the shark's massive silhouette darted beneath the yacht toward her daughter"​​. "With every ounce of her being, Kate focused on the rolling waves. 'This ends today,' she declared, determination lining her features as she prepared to defend her family from a terrifying nightmare"​​. About Holly S. Roberts Holly S Roberts is the USA TODAY bestselling author of thrillers, mysteries, and romance. Her Detective Eve Bennet crime series is a #1 Amazon bestseller. She’s a retired homicide detective who worked high-profile cases in Arizona. Holly lives high in the mountains with her husband and two spoiled dogs. Author Links Website     Facebook     Instagram   TikTok   YouTube    Goodreads Purchase Links Amazon/Kindle Unlimited Also written by Holly S. Roberts TOUR PARTICIPANTS - Please visit all the stops. June 20 – The Mystery of Writing – SPOTLIGHT June 20 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – SPOTLIGHT June 20 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT June 21 – Baroness Book Trove – SPOTLIGHT June 21 – Novels Alive – REVIEW June 21 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews - SPOTLIGHT June 22 – StoreyBook Reviews – SPOTLIGHT June 22 – Celticlady's Reviews – SPOTLIGHT June 22 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – AUTHOR INTERVIEW June 23 – Ruff Drafts – SPOTLIGHT June 23 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT June 24 – Christy's Cozy Corners – REVIEW June 24 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT June 25 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – REVIEW June 25 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT June 25 – Rosepoint Publishing – REVIEW June 26 – Literary Gold – SPOTLIGHT June 26 – Elizabeth McKenna - Author – SPOTLIGHT June 26 – Boys' Mom Reads! – SPOTLIGHT CLICK HERE TO ENTER A GIVEAWAY FOR A SHARK PLUSHIE! Have you signed up to be a Tour Host? Click Here to Find Details and Sign Up Today! Want to Book a Tour? Click Here Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent This post contains affiliate links. If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you. Thank you for supporting Escape With Dollycas. Read the full article

[thewildwaffle]

Ghost Busters

A prompt from user Kelly on ao3

Edit: I didn't originally mean for this to get spooky, but it did. Maybe reconsider reading this at night if you get easily spooked

***

Desan looked over the calendar. Booked out for another two moors. Wow. She really thought clients would have started going elsewhere once they found out the wait was more than a decacycle or two. They must be getting desperate.

The comm lines rang again. It seemed like they rang more often than they were quiet lately. Desan eyed the calendar again before she picked up the call.

“Hello, AIM Inspections, Desan speaking, how many I help you today?”

“Hi, I was told you offer haunting inspections?” The voice on the other line sounded gruff and a little tired. “We’ve had a flarg of an attempt trying to hire lately and our crew’s numbers are starting to dwindle fast.”

Desan nodded, even though the caller obviously couldn’t see. Here we go with another one. “Yes, we offer supernatural analysis inspections. I must warn you now that we are booked out until mid-Corruse on the Burnti calendar.”

The caller sighed and hummed for a bit. “That’s not as soon as I’d like, but honestly, you’re the third place I’ve called and that’s the soonest I’ve heard. What do you need from me to get started?”

“Well,” Desan pulled up a form on her track tablet, “I’ve just got a few questions, get a bit of information, then I’ll send you a form fill and I’ll get you on the schedule. First off, to whom am I speaking, and may I ask what alerted you to the need for our services?”

“Riord Esh, operations manager for the Bantar outer fleet. And I'd say we were alerted the same way as most people, I’d wager,” the gruff voice drawled out. “Tried hiring some humans, but they claimed our ships were haunted. That's since spread around. No one wants to work on a ship where even humans are scared if you know what I mean."

"I do, yes that's been a pretty common problem we've been hearing."

"Have you been able to fix this? I mean for the ships you have done the inspections for?"

"Oh yes, we've got a 100% ghost-free guarantee. Now, if I can get a bit of info from you, I can go ahead and get you scheduled for mid-Corruse."

The rest of the call went smoothly. Before Desan hung up, she assured Riord Esh that, should another client cancel, they would be moved up in the queue, to which they were grateful.

And with that, another client on the long, long list.

Desan had helped out on some of the inspections, and with all the demand lately, would probably continue doing so. It was a bit of extra pay, so she certainly had no issue with the extra work. It also had the added benefit of being quite interesting.

For the vast majority of "haunted" ships, the supernatural inspections ran almost identically to normal ship inspections. It was funny how often "sudden cold spots" were just a simple draft, or feelings of paranoia or being watched turned out to be caused by a previously undetected gas leak. The initial inspectors would simply write up a report detailing fixes needed and boom. Suddenly the ship no longer has a hard time finding a crew to hire.

But there were exceptions. The kind of exceptions that really threw a rock into their otherwise simple business model.

Before this job, Desan did not consider herself to be superstitious in any way. She still adamantly claimed to not believe in ghosts and haunts and spookums. But even she had to second-guess her stance when some of her inspector coworkers came back from some of their more… problematic jobs.

There were things that just didn’t make sense. Unsettling things. Usually involving some unfortunate or tragic circumstance. They were the things that couldn’t be satisfyingly brushed off as hallucinations of over-worked or mourning brains.

One in the particular job still gave her shivers. She’d been asked to join an inspection tour on one of the largest ships their company has done to date. It was a new, fresh off the assembly line, Booletean Cruiser Class 6. The ship's sheer size meant more hands were needed for the inspection crew to get everything checked out. Even then it still took an entire day cycle just to get through everything. And what a day it was.

The ship, again, was new. It should have had no issues. However, upon checking some of the paperwork for its production, it turned out that only some of the parts were completely new.

There’d been a terrible crash a decacycle or two before. Another Booletean Cruiser Class 6 had crashed. The Bayjee Disaster. There were survivors, but far more lives were lost. It was a tragic accident, a perfect storm of circumstances mixed with just enough miscommunication that caused it all.

While sifting through the wreckage, it was discovered that some of the parts of the ship were still in good condition. After intense inspection and testing, they were eventually used in the construction of another Booletean Cruiser.

The very one Desan and her company had been hired to inspect.

They checked everywhere. There were no gas leaks to explain why crew members would feel paranoid or even panicked, insisting that they were not alone when no one else was there.

There was nothing wrong with the pipes in the boiler room, even though engineers insisted that they would hear unexplained banging and screeching metal near the end of their shifts. Always twenty mentiks before their shifts ended. It never mattered what time of the day cycle they were working, it was always twenty mentiks before the end of their shift.

From the investigation, it was widely claimed that the chain of events that led to the Bayjee crashing had taken about twenty mentiks to come to fruition.

But one of the worst aspects of the “haunted” ship was something Desan and her team hadn’t experienced with other ship inspections.

Several crew members, passengers, and even a few kloxan dignitaries had claimed that they had seen the Bayjee captain aboard their ship. They claimed they’d seen her face quite clearly. She never said anything, she never interacted with anyone, she’d just be there. And then she’d be gone like someone had flipped a switch and turned off some sort of ghostly projector.

There were official reports of these sightings, several in fact, most of which were made by otherwise level-headed individuals that would have nothing to gain by falsifying such reports.

They spent far longer on this inspection than they had on any other project. With other jobs starting to pile up in the meantime, a decision was ultimately made to remove the parts of the ship that were originally part of the Bayjee and replace them with identical parts fresh off the assembly line.

All reports of any “haunting” phenomena immediately stopped.

Desan decided to stick to her office post after that. She still claimed to be a skeptic of the claims of the supernatural, and in most cases, she was. Being so was now part of her line of work. But even she had to admit that in the vastness of space and within all the realms of possibility, there was much that was beyond her understanding.

The comm lines rang again, pulling her out of her musings. With a sigh, she stretched and eyed the very full calendar before answering the call. “Hello, AIM Inspections, Desan speaking, how many I help you today?”

[movedtodykedvonte]

your tags said to send asks or you would post spamton essays but what if i Want the essays

anyway how do you think his attitude and behavior would change once he started to develop a crush on someone? does he hide it well or is it obvious somethings up? And how does this crush behavior differ between addispam, big shot, and current spam?

The essays are more or less random ramblings. I like writing them but the brain power to do so is absurd. As per Spamton’s behavior when developing a crush I feel like no matter what he’s the most incompetent love sick guy but in an endearing way. Overall I 100% think what initially makes him attracted to you is any patience, kindness or support you’d give him. Anyway my ideas under the cut

Addison Spamton

Addisons are a materialistic species at heart and so I feel his courtship starts by business favors. You’d notice a change when more off brand versions of your favorite stuff appear in his shop.

Or when he cuts his already dirt cheap prices even lower for you. He insists it just a perk for always supporting him despite being the perpetually unluckiest addison

He’d be pretty vague and shy about admitting anything. His business ventures rarely work out for him and he does not wanna risk the same when it comes to romantic ones

Still Addispam would go out of his way to hang around you, asking you for advice on flyers, products or lingering in low sale areas just to encounter you. 

If your a fellow ad I bet he’d go out of his way to only shop at your store

He thinks he’s slick and that you don’t notice how he seemingly values your opinion more than anyone's or how he constantly invades your space when practicing pitches or the thinly veiled flirts in the “drafts” of emails he plans to send out

He’s emotionally ooey gooey and like a love sick puppy and if you called him out he’d deny it all and his shop would be closed for a few days to emotionally recover

He either confesses through an email just so he doesn’t lose any courage in person or he sputters something incomprehensible out that you have to piece together as a confession. 

That or you’d have to make a deal to date him cause there’s no way I believe he’d not try and pitch himself to you like some black friday valentine sales

Big Shot Spamton

This guy may be successful now but he still sucks at romance and flirting.

He’s a lot more open about liking you but is still lacks that social confidence that would allow him to be suave.

I bet he asked the phone for advice trying to court you

If you knew him before bigshotification, he’d buy you a lot of everything he knows you like. He insists its just to repay all the years you supported and helped him before but it’s def a weird courtship thing

If he didn’t know you before he’d listen to whatever you remotely mention liking and buy you it in bulk. It’s anonymous in this case but it’s still obvious because he like hounds you if you liked the gift your secret admirer got you

He’s not trying to buy your affection but everyone around him seems to like him better when he splurges on them and he hopes it’ll make you really like him

Really shitty flirting and compliments, they just don’t make sense but he says them like they are the coolest thing. Some make you cringe but most make you giggle. Spamton thinks that means they’re working <:)

Would try to have hang outs with you that are just lavish dates. Drags you around by the hand, just to not lose you but it’s def an excuse to hold your hand

For whatever reason he considers bringing you on business meetings as dates/hanging out. You’re really just emotional support and something to look at

He’d try and confess like you hadn’t realized he’s had the fattest crush on you but make sure you have room to say no without worrying he’d stop pampering you.

The moment you even show any sort of reciprocation he starts showing you off like one of his new cungadero model

Current Spamton

I don’t think he’d truly hide it all at this point but he’s very vague on if it’s exactly a crush on you or just trying to butter you up for a con. Like if you ask he’ll just flirt then try to sell you trash

He insists on giving you minitons as like little helpers as like a business trade for your help/company. However, they just cling to you or swarm around you like let annoying and cuter gnats

He’s less sleazy towards you, he tries to scam you still but he gives you hints so you can back out, you let yourself get conned just for the banter

Talks about how he could treat you if he was a big shot still and all the places/things he’d show you. If you insist you could take him out he just laughs and says he’s not that easy

You are a hundred percent sure you see more stray pipis the closer to your home despite Spamton never agreeing to come to your home. Maybe you catch light reflecting off something pink and yellow before disappearing behind a corner. It’s cute in a stalkerish way

I feel like he has no shame now and outright says he finds you nice or cute or attractive but he never goes farther than a weird compliment or dirty joke.

He also keeps you way past the time you try to leave the trash zone. Weird pitches where he doesn’t even know what he’s selling to you. Just wants you to stay a little longer

He’s really scared of confirming anything cause he’s scared if his intentions are clear you’ll be disgusted and stop hanging out and he’s too attention starved to lose that

Despite all his boldness with hitting on you, you’d have to ask him... multiple times... and bribe him... and possibly drag him into your house. 

He wouldn’t make it easy but he’s grateful he didn’t have to humiliate himself trying to ask you in a sweet none glitched way.

Surprisingly I don’t think he’d be that bad or hopeless but he acts like the minitons don’t try to kiss you every time he summons them. Any version.

[boldlyvoid]

Million Dollar Man | Chapter Five

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, handcuffs, thigh fucking, public sex, exhibitionism, edging, vibrators, dirty talk, dom spencer

word count: 4.6K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and Saturdays

Chapter Five | Masterlist

He’s ripped from a peaceful slumber by his work phone ringing on the night table. Y/N asleep on his chest, he tries to reach for it without waking her, successfully he answers with a groggy whisper, “hello?”

“Morning sleepy head?” Emily laughs, “it’s 10 am, Reid, why are you whispering?”

“I’m with my girlfriend, she’s still asleep,” he realizes he’s never told the team flat out that he was seeing someone, they all guessed but none of them had really asked.

“Oh,” Emily seems just as shocked that he said it. “We have a local case, I need you here for the geo profile and then you can go back to your mandated break.”

“I’ll be in, in 30,” he replies before hanging up.

“Can I come?” She whispers against him, obviously awake from all the commotion.

“Sure,” he shrugs, “if you don’t mind seeing and hearing about whatever horrific thing happened this time.”

“I don’t,” she sits up and stretches, “come on Mulder, we’ve got a case to crack.”

He laughs, “sure thing Scully.”

—

He’s nervous in the elevator on the way up to the BAU, Y/N on the other hand is so excited she’s practically vibrating. She’s dressed for the part, with her little visitor's badge and Spencer’s hand held tightly in her own, she basically drags him towards the bullpen when the doors open.

“Spence!” Luke calls for him, Tara and Matt turn around with big smiles to see him. “Who’s this?”

“Uh,” Spencer swallows sharply, “this is my girlfriend, Y/N this is Luke, Matt and Tara.”

She lets go of his hand to shake theirs, he watches as they all smile and introduce themselves to her, causing the rest of the team to notice the new person in the room and rush over. They have a lot of questions, they’re all very surprised she’s as young as he was when he started at the bureau and that he’s actually bringing her around.

When he finds out what’s going on, he’s really glad he brought her in. There’s been a few bomb threats in D.C, one of which is the building across from Y/N’s apartment. They’re trying to keep hysteria to a minimum, he knows he wouldn’t have been able to tell her if he didn’t bring her, he also knows he would have broken protocol to get her out of there.

She sits at his desk while he works, looking through all his things for a while before Spencer hears a familiar voice in the bullpen. Penelope was called in for backup, making eye contact with Y/N as soon as she walked in and cheering. “Oh! You’re here!”

Spencer leaves the briefing room, abandoning the geo-profile to introduce Penelope to the girl she helped him find, he runs down the stairs and wraps his arms around her.

“Spencer,” she relaxes into his embrace and holds him close, “I’ve missed you so much.”

When Spencer pulls away, the smile on his face is remarkable, “Penelope, this is Y/N,” he says her name and Penelope automatically knows who she is.

He told her right after he bought her whole Wishlist, Penelope has known about her the longest and yet she’s never been able to meet her. She turns to Y/N with a smile, “are you a hugger?”

Y/N stands and wraps her arms around her, “I think I owe you a very big thank you,” she whispers in Penelope’s ear.

“For what?”

“Teaching grandpa over here how to use the internet,” she teases him, “and for your helpful tips, he was the nicest one I met on there.”

“You’re very welcome,” Penelope pulls back with another smile, holding Y/N’s face in her hands, “and thank you.”

Y/N pulls her into another hug and now everyone is watching, Spencer knows he’s going to be bombarded with questions eventually but for now, Y/N is going with Penelope to her office and Spencer has a map to look at while he stresses himself out.

Matt, Tara and Emily head to the scene to join JJ, Rossi and Will, leaving Luke with Spencer in the briefing room.

“Can I ask?”

Spencer nods, “go ahead.”

“How did you meet her? Was she one of your students?”

He doesn’t know how to answer, not because he’s ashamed of it or of her, rather because he doesn’t know if she’ll want people to really know. “Penelope helped me get online to meet people, I made an account on a sugar daddy website thinking it would be easier to pay someone who doesn’t know me to hang out rather than try and make a new friend.”

“That’s smart,” Luke nods along as he listens. “She seems really cool.”

“She’s the best,” he smiles. “She’s really smart and talented, she’s an author actually, her books coming out in January.”

“I’ll have to get a copy,” Luke smiles right back.

“Her publisher and I have actually planned a big birthday party slash final draft party, if you and the team want to come and have drinks and get to know her more, that would be really nice,” Spencer offers, knowing it’s about time they all celebrated something together.

“I’d love to come, and I’ll bring Penelope,” Luke’s just as excited as he is.

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t know already, being with Penelope and everything?”

He shrugs, “we don’t talk about work or really gossip about the team now that she’s not working here, it makes her a little sad that she left but she’s doing a lot better just coming in occasionally.”

“I didn’t think I’d like my months off at first, either, but now I’m also debating leaving,” he knows it's a lie. He’s already written his letter of recognition, he’s just waiting for the go-ahead from Y/N that they’re moving to California.

“16 years is a really long time to be doing this job,” he agrees, “I’m sure if you wanted to leave the bureau would offer you your full retirement package early, given everything you’ve been through for this country.”

Spencer nods, “don’t let this job take your spark, you’re very wonderful, Luke, and I’d hate to see you lose it for the greater good.”

“My greater good is just down the hall,” he smirks, “I make the world a better place for the woman I love, she’s the reason I get up every day and come to work because I can’t wait to get home to her safely.”

Luke has always loved Penelope, it’s been very obvious, and yet she didn’t want really anything to do with him until Derek advised her to be nice. She was so busy thinking about all her other babies leaving the nest after Derek that she didn’t take the time to consider bringing in Luke to the nest for warmth and love as well.

“When are you asking her to marry you?”

Luke turns bashful, a slight blush on his cheeks as he stares at the table, “Christmas, it’s her favourite time of the year.”

“Have you talked to Derek?” Spencer only worries slightly, after what happened with Kevin he doesn’t want to see it happen to Luke.

“Nope, I’ve talked to her brothers though, we’re going to California again this year for Christmas and they all said they’d love to have me in the family,” Luke smiles, “the Garcias are my favourite.”

Spencer isn’t normally a hugger but he walks around the table and wraps Luke up, “I’m asking Y/N in a week.”

“No way?”

He nods, “she’s the greatest good I’m ever going to get.”

“Amen, brother.”

—

Penelope’s job was incredible, she was in awe as she watched her tap away at her keyboard and answer a million and one questions. She reminded her of Ned from Kim Possible and she knew if she said that to anyone she’d give away just how young she is.

She’s gotten a lot of looks, she knows people are talking about it and yet she doesn’t really care. There isn’t any malice behind the stares and the whispers, they all seem genuinely surprised that Spencer has a girlfriend over the fact she’s in her 20’s.

There’s a single dull moment and she turns to Y/N, “can I please have the juicy details, please,” she begs and it makes her feel giddy.

She’s never really had any girlfriends like this, and she certainly didn’t have anyone to tell about Spencer. “He’s the love of my life, I’m completely serious.”

Penelope squealed, “that’s all I’ve ever wanted for him, ugh this is so exciting! Are you guys serious? How long has it been?”

She nods, “not long, uh he got me this necklace a week or two ago and we’ve been moving pretty slow for his sake. In the last 10 months he’s become my bestie and I’ve convinced him to move in and he sleeps in my bed now and I love waking up beside him… he’s a real gentleman.”

“That’s good, he’s never been able to take the scenic route in life… I know you’re only here cause he trusts you and if he trusts you that means you know everything and if you know ever—“

“Yeah,” she cuts her off, “I know about all of it and everyone who’s hurt him and how he’s hurt himself but what’s more important is that it doesn’t phase me, he’s just a person trying to deal with the life he’s been given, we all are.”

Penelope wraps her up in a gentle hug, “he’s always needed someone like you.”

It makes her heartbreak just a tiny bit thinking about how as long he didn’t have anyone. Sure, he was surrounded by his friends at work and loved enough that they all brought him back home but he was never cared for the way she would have done it. There’s a weird maternal instinct that comes over her with Spencer and she knows exactly why, all she knows is she wants to love him and care for him for the rest of his life.

If she lives to be 100, she hopes he lives to be 116, because there isn’t a day she wants to spend on this earth where Spencer Reid isn’t alive and beside her.

She’s not going to cry in Penelope’s arms after just meeting her so she pulls back with a smile, “but what kind of juicy details are we talking? Cause I can’t embarrass him too bad…”

Penelope’s laugh is evil as she rubs her hands together, “a little birdie whose name rhymes with shmerek said he knows how to use that mouth for more than just talking…”

It makes her laugh almost a little too hard and she starts to feel her face heat up, she simply nods, “yeah, we haven’t gone all the way but from what’s happened so far, I can agree.”

Penelope turns in her rolling chair and laughs, “ugh that’s so great, I’m glad you’re having a good time— I mean I always thought Spencer would be good in bed after all the chats we’ve had about kinks and shit, he’s really educated, obviously, but I always knew that it would translate from paper to real-life very easily.”

“Oh totally,” she nods feverishly, “we talked about that before actually, virginity is simply a construct used to control women and make them feel pure or dirty, to feel like they can take something from a woman and yet virgins are so sexual and in tune with their needs and wants that they typically are good or at least know what to do from whatever porn they’ve consumed when it comes down to it. How the more in tune with someone's sexuality that they are the better they are in bed because they apply what they want to their partner and almost get off more on the fact someone is enjoying them than the fact they’re being pleasured.”

Penelope shakes her head with a loving smile, “you listen when he talks, you love every part of him and you’re beautiful… he really hit the jackpot.”

She brushes it off with a laugh, “I got pretty lucky with him too.”

Her phone rings before she can agree, answering with a cheerful tone, Spencer is on the other end, “do you have my beautiful girlfriend with you still?”

“Present,” she answers for herself, “are you still here, dad-Spence?”

She bites her lip and closes her eyes, fuck.

“Yeah, uh, I am, we think we got the actual building with the bomb, they’ve sent the team down there to clear it and check it out.”

“I’ll head back to the bullpen, then,” she stands and heads to the door, not wanting to face Penelope after almost calling him daddy right in front of her.

“Hey,” she calls to Y/N, “don’t be embarrassed. I get it, believe me, I’ve answered some calls in here with the dirtiest remarks to the completely wrong people. But, I’ll see you later?”

She smiles, “yeah, I’d love to see you again.”

In the bullpen, Spencer’s by his desk all alone. His teams cleared out and now it was just the office staff wandering around. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back, “ready to go home?”

“Uh, not yet…” he turns to look at her, “I don’t want to bring you back to D.C unless the case is closed.” He looks nervous and she understands it perfectly.

“Okie Dokie, she smiles, leaning in for a hug to get close to his ear, “can we fuck in a storage closet to pass the time?”

He laughs but he takes her hand and he pretends to take her on a tour, he leads her down the hall and towards the filing room where he knows no one will be. “No one has really used this room in ages, since we went digital, and Penelope had all this stuff put online anyway.”

“So you can bend me over that table and rail me next time we come back?”

“Or?” She hears his playful tone and smirks to herself, letting him manhandle her hands behind her back as he bends her over a table, “I could fuck these big beautiful thighs of yours?”

“So only you can get off? Please,” She scoffs at him, wanting to piss him off to see where it gets her, wiggling her ass back against him as she does so.

He unbuttons her pants and drags them down her legs to leave her in just her thong, taking a handful of her ass and squeezing before laying a hard slap against her, she gasps at the feeling but also at the fact it was so loud.

“They’re going to hear you?!” She whispers with a disappointed tone.

“Isn’t that what you said you wanted? You wanted everyone to know only daddy can take care of you?” He uses her own words against her and she whines. “That’s what I thought.”

“No, but seriously,” she turns her head to look at him, “check my pocket.”

He does exactly that, finding one of her little bullet vibes in the front pocket of her jeans, “you planned this?”

“I knew we’d be having some kind of sex somewhere in this building,” she smirks. “Also my safe word is red but keep going.”

“Alrighty, then,” she can hear the smirk on his face as he thinks it over.

He takes his handcuffs out of his back pocket and cuffs her, “you know, it’s public indecency looking like this in here, technically it’s a federal offence and it’s my duty as a federal officer to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She swallows sharply, pushing back against his groin and gasping when her bare asscheek meets the cold metal of his gun in his holster. Sometimes she forgot he was a real FBI agent, sometimes it didn’t feel real to her because he was just her nerdy boyfriend and he never had any of his "cop props" with him… suddenly they weren’t just accessories to her anymore, he was actually a cop who just bent her over a table and cuffed her and now he’s going to fuck her "big beautiful thighs" as he called them.

“What’s the sentence, agent?” She plays along because damn he’s hot like this.

He presses his chest to her back as he leans in close to her ear, “It’s doctor, and you know that.”

He turns on the vibrator and rests it inside her underwear, right against her clit at the lowest setting, her thighs twitch at the feeling and all she wishes is that she had something to hold on to.

She whines again when she hears his belt buckle dangle and his zipper open, he grips his cock at the base and drags the head between her cheeks before slipping between her things with a sigh, “and it’s taking my time, you’re just going to have to, rather impatiently, deal with it.”

“Yes, doctor,” she closes her eyes and waits for the feeling of his cock between her legs but he doesn’t push in.

He places his feet on either side of hers so that she can't open her legs any further and finally, finally breaches her thighs. He groans at the drag of his cock against her skin as the vibrations from her panties continue to make her legs quake. She lets out a shaky breath and reaches for his shirt as he presses against her once more. Grabbing his tie instead, she pulls on it and he gasps for air.

“Sorry,” she mumbles with a smirk, not sorry at all for slightly choking him as she continues to hold his tie.

He swats her hands away from his tie and grips the cuffs to separate her hands, pushing them further up her back until it’s almost uncomfortable. The most uncomfortable thing about this was the fact he wasn’t inside of her, she felt so empty as she clenched around nothing. The stimulation on her clit was nice, the feeling of him taking her from behind is ungodly and yet he’s not in her. It’s the worst punishment in the whole world.

It was nowhere near enough to get her off and he knew that she wanted so much more that she wasn’t going to get, whining as he kept his thrusts at the same slow pace. It was agonizing, she squeezed her legs together more to tease him but he ended up liking it. There was nothing she could do for more, she was just going to have to let him take her, and that thought was what brought her closer.

“Please?” She begged, sounding just as desperate as she thought she would and not giving a single fuck.

“Please what?” He snaps his hips against her just a bit harder with each thrust.

She gasps again before biting her lip to hold back a moan, “finish in my mouth?” She begs once more, “please?”

He pulls off of her and yanks her off the table, turning her around, she drops to her knees without being told and opens her mouth immediately. He grips her by her hair and guides her towards his cock, slipping it past her lips and right down her throat.

He groans at the feeling, she closes her eyes for a moment to enjoy the feeling of his heavy cock in her mouth. Taking him more forcefully than ever before, he’s too caught up in the moment to realize he might be a little too rough but she also doesn’t mind. Breathing through her nose to stay calm she takes him as far as she can, pressing her nose to his pubes he can feel how hot her breath is as she struggles to breathe.

“Such a good girl,” he pulls her off so she can breathe for a moment, “you want my cum so bad don’t you?”

“Yes please, daddy,” she replies with a rasp in her voice that makes it obvious where he’s been.

She takes him in her mouth once more, sucking earnestly to get him closer and closer to the edge. He’s whining, pulling her hair and doing everything in his power not to thrust against her face, even though she’s okay with it.

She knows when he’s close because his cock always twitches in the same spot, it’s a tell-tale sign that he’s going to cum in a second. She applies more suction, running her tongue along the underside before taking him all the way once more just in time for him to cum right down her throat with each swallow.

He’s not quiet, anyone walking past the door will hear him panting and gasping, muttering good girl under his breath, he’s more fucked out by this blow job than she’s ever made him before. She can’t help but smirk as he pulls away and leaves her there on her knees, covered in spit and drool and unable to wipe her own mouth due to the fact she’s still fucking handcuffed.

She rests against his shoe, pressing the vibrator against her clit a little more, she twitches at how good it feels but it’s still not enough to get her off, and a part of her doesn’t want to.

He pulls her up to her feet and sits her down on the table he was just pretending to fuck her against. He attempts to spread her legs and get between them but she stops him, “leave the vibe where it is and let’s just go home?”

“You want to walk out of this building with a vibrator in your panties, and say goodbye to my co-workers and friends knowing you could cum anytime?”

She smirks, “yes, but I won't cum cause this pathetic toy isn’t as good at you.”

He clicks the button to turn it up a speed and she gasps, pushing against the feeling and moaning into it, “I’d like to see you try that.”

—

He takes her on the rest of the “tour” with that vibrator in her panties, she’s getting more and more flustered the more they look around. Eventually, he shows her the library, getting her alone in the back corner where he can talk to her without the risk of people knowing what’s going on.

“I can’t,” she whines as he presses her against the shelves, “please?”

“Please what?”

“Turn it off, daddy, I can’t take it anymore,” she grips his suit jacket tightly as she looks up at him with the eyes he can’t say no to.

“Mmm,” he hums, reaching into her pants to free her from the stimulation, she relaxes finally. “What do you think you deserve now?”

“Don’t wanna cum till we’re at home,” she whispers, “but you’ll have to make it quick because we have a flight to catch at 8.”

“Fuck,” he whispers like he forgot. “I hope we can get back into the apartment in time.”

“Why?”

“The bomb was in the basement of the building beside yours,” he admits and the whole facade fades, “that’s why I’m not taking you home yet.”

“That’s why you wanted to fuck me,” she whispers with a giggle. “You could have at least told me this was a ‘you almost died’ rush for you.”

“I didn’t want to say it like that,” he admits and a depression washes through his blood, he feels the low settle as he drops, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she takes his face in her hands and makes him look her in the eyes, “I love you, I’m glad we’re both safe. Everything in there is replaceable, you and me aren’t. This is a really good thing, Spencer.”

He nods, doing what she’s told him so many times she wants him to do, telling her his thoughts so that he’s no longer haunted alone, “when I told my friend Derek about you, he said dating a younger woman means I’ll never have to worry about you dying of old age before me. That’s one of his fears being the same age as Savannah, but I’ve lost so many people I never even thought about getting old with you I’ve just wanted to keep this version of you safe and with me forever.”

“Penelope said she always wished you’d find someone like me, and my only thought was If I live to be 100, I hope you live to be 116 because there isn’t a day I want to spend on this earth where Spencer Reid isn’t alive and beside me,” he whispers with a smile, “but now I’m thinking if you live to be 100, I don’t want to go past 84.”

“You can’t say that,” he whispers, tears bubbling in his eyes, “what if I die tomorrow? I need to know you’re going to be fine and not end your wonderful existence because I’m not here anymore. You’re too wonderful to put all your worth on me.”

She doesn’t want to cry, she already looks like she’s been fucked and now she’s a mess, she pulls him into a kiss so he’ll stop talking and they can just be together, it was hard enough for her thinking he was going to die eventually, let alone him hypothesizing dying tomorrow.

She rests her forehead against his, “we always do this.”

“What?”

“It’s like orgasms open the emotions or something,” she snuffles which turns into a laugh, “do you think our kids are going to find it weird that you’re so much older than me?”

Everything takes him for a loop, “uh,” he struggles to find the words, pulling back and looking at her as her face drops, “I um—

“You don’t want kids anymore?” She looks genuinely saddened and he doesn’t know how to answer.

“I do,” he nods, “just—“

“Not with me?” She puts the words in his mouth.

“With you, just not yet,” he holds her by the shoulders, “I need more time with you before we have a kid, I need to love life and be in a good place and somewhere where I can focus all my attention on them, and I can’t yet.”

“I want a baby by 30,” she whispers before pressing her lips together awkwardly, “46 isn’t too old to be a dad, I’ve seen men become fathers at 80.”

He laughs as the anxiety leaves him, “a little California surfer baby wouldn’t be too bad.”

“Well, we fuck like rabbits, we might get there sooner than you planned,” she nudges him, “you’re a wonderful boyfriend, and if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to stay my boyfriend for a little longer? I’m not ready to be a wife or a mom and change my name when I just got it put on a published book.”

“I’ll change mine to yours,” he replies like it's nothing, “or keep yours and we’ll hyphenate the kid's names.”

“It’s plural now?” She teases him once more.

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you,” he assures her, “forever.”

“You’d pluck a star from the sky for me wouldn’t you, Doctor Y/L/N?”

He laughs at how it sounds but he kinda likes it. Her word choice is even funnier to him, however, because he’s actually gone out of his way to pluck a star for her. She has no idea, but her last present is a big one.

She struggled to get her own name on a book for so long, now there’s a star named after her, in the sky for everyone to see for the rest of time.

Permanent tag list:

@ssacalumsg0lden @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @idonotexiste @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxospencerreid @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @meganskane @kya-li @reidsbookclub @muffin-cup @sassymoon @shirleyrose @reidsacademia @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @spooky-goob @anaagraceeberr

Sugar daddy fic

@mggs-sidehoe @bakugouswh0r3 @mggskneescrews @moonlight-2-6 @spencerreidscumwhore @my-thoughts-are-weird @violetclifford @youabitchhhh @bunny-script @baby-i-am-fireproof @moondustmemories @rexorangecouny @minervaonmars @onlyhereforthefanfics @anonymous-reading @go2sleepducky @kingcrain @beepbooptoop @givemeth @emma-is-a-nerd @wrecky-becky @eternalspence @ne--yo-pets @valerieweasley @coldlilheart @andiebeaword @bingereid @a-mended-pact

[deadbiwrites]

a video of supergirl grabbing lena luthor's ass starts circulating and it's very embarrassing for sc but extremely funny to their friends

(I am SO sorry. Where do these hide? Why do I never see them? How long has this been here?!

Anyways, have some cute nonsense!)

The day starts like any other, honestly.

Like, sure, Kara’s never thrilled when she wakes up 20 minutes late and has to use superspeed to get through her morning routine and into the office on time, but it happens regularly enough that she’s just sort of used to it by now. Like, the sky is blue, the grass is green, she manages time poorly. Whatever.

But she does get to work on time, with just enough to spare that she can make a brief detour to Nia’s desk for the coffee her protege has already bought for her, thank her profusely (with perhaps minor promising of firstborn children), and slip into the morning meeting just as Snapper, James, and Lena start handing out assignments for the day.

“Well, well, good of you to join us, Ponytail. Let me guess, a family emergency kept you out all night again?”

‘I mean, that Abraxian wasn’t my family, technically, but someone’s family, so…’ “Something like that. Sorry.”

Lena catches her eye and quirks a brow in question, but Kara just shrugs easily and sips her coffee, pulling a silly face at her friend when Snapper’s attention moves away from her. When her eyes uncross, she can tell Lena is fighting not to laugh, eyes sparking with mirth as she bites her lip. Kara takes another sip of coffee, feeling a bit smug that she can get Lena to smile without even having to say anything to her. That’s real talent, right there.

Especially since Lena has to stand up at the front with James, who has been by turns cold, dejected, and surly toward her since their breakup (a big, real, final one) a few weeks prior. Lena had said that the whole thing was a mistake, that she should’ve never gone for it in the first place because she’d been right the first time- they’d had some chemistry, after all, but it certainly wasn’t compatible long-term. 

Which… Kara can certainly relate. Like, a lot.

Especially about the whole… James being kind of wounded about it part. That part had really sucked- when he’d done it with Kara, who he’d gone on like, a date with, it’d resulted in him deciding to become a vigilante. Rao only knows what he’ll do when it’s someone he dated on and off for over a year...

“Ponytail!”

Kara jumps, realizing too late that her wandering attention hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Yes, sir?”

Snapper rolls his eyes. “Great, now that you’ve stopped orbiting Saturn, you wanna go get that article started?”

Kara’s eyes widen slightly in a panic as she realizes that she has no idea what he’s talking about. “Uh…” Behind his back, Lena catches her eye and nods subtly. Thank Rao. “Yes. I super do.”

Lena snorts, James sighs deeply, and the meeting is adjourned.

**

“So what exactly am I supposed to be doing today?” Kara asks Lena as they stroll out of the conference room together.

“Well unfortunately for you, you have to interview a big-time CEO. You have a meeting scheduled with her in three hours.”

“You?” Kara asks hopefully.

“You’re very sweet,” Lena chuckles. “No, Elena Watts. She’s a real estate developer, and she runs a nonprofit organization for homeless youth. It’s one of the articles we’re doing for next month’s spread. Contrary to popular belief, Cat and I weren’t the only women with high-profile jobs in this city. ”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool! Have you met her?”

“Not personally, no, but I have donated to her charity- it’s a very good cause, especially the outreach they do with queer youth.”

Kara elbows Lena gently. “You’re such a softie.”

“Mmm, maybe. But if you tell anyone, you’re fired.”

Kara clutches a hand to her chest, feigning horror. “Why Miss Luthor, what a blatant abuse of power!”

Lena shrugs. “I’m a Luthor, darling, I have to keep up appearances somehow.”

“Ouch,” Kara laughs. “See you at lunch?”

“Only if lunch includes a milkshake- I have a teleconference with both boards today. Unless you feel like joining me?”

“Wow, well as fun as that sounds, I’m gonna go do literally anything else.” Her comms crackle to life, alerting her of a hostage situation downtown, and Kara sighs. So much for a work day. “Alright, well, I’m, um, gonna go… see what I can find on Elena Watts. Maybe over another cup of coffee at Noonan’s.” She widens her eyes a bit, trying her best to convey that she’s going to be on Super-duty for a little while.

Thankfully, Lena picks up on it and grins. “You just want sticky buns.”

“Lena, I always want sticky buns. They’re like, my second favorite thing to eat.”

“Oh? What’s the first?” Lena asks, voice just a bit lower than usual. 

Kara opens her mouth and closes it, flushing slightly as she averts her gaze and adjusts the laptop bag on her shoulder. Stuff like that has been happening more and more, and she’s not 100% sure what to do about it. Because on the one hand, it makes her stomach do flips and tie up in knots and makes her brain do this… staticky thing where nothing filters in or out, just a pleasant buzz of how funny and smart Lena is and how much Kara likes hanging out with her and being flirted with (because that’s definitely what’s been happening, even if neither of them is really ready to address it) and just generally looking at Lena.... who is currently biting her lip and grinning up at Kara, and that buzz makes her kinda dumb, which is just really unhelpful. But on the other hand, it’s also kinda awesome and Kara really enjoys it, and-

“Kara?”

She spaced out again. Crap.

“Um. What time are you free for lunch?”

Lena sighs, seeming slightly disappointed that Kara isn’t flirting back at the moment (and thank Rao Lena can’t read minds), but she smiles back easily enough as they step off of the elevator. “I should be done by two.”

Feeling emboldened, Kara turns so she’s walking backwards in front of Lena and grins. “It’s a date,” she says with a grin, ducking forward to press a quick “friendly” kiss high on Lena’s cheek. She whirls and jogs out the double doors, leaving Lena smiling exasperatedly after her.

**

It is genuinely baffling to Kara that people still commit crimes in National City. It’s not even an ego thing, really, since Kara tries to keep herself humble (even when she manages to wrap up a hostage situation within twenty seconds of arriving on-scene without injuring any of the criminals or damaging the building too badly). Like, yeah, she gets that there’s a certain element of crazies who just sorta gravitate to places with a local hero, the big-bads who have their own suits and geek-toys and abilities. Them, Kara gets. Kinda sorta. But the regular ones, who are armed with like, pistols? Or knives? Just regular man made stuff without even the benefit of magic or kryptonite or something?

Why? 

She’s sure that if she asked, Lena would have some sort of statistical thing about large cities and poverty and all sorts of other factors that would end up making Kara feel like a jerk for being uncharitable to the criminal element of her city, but at the moment she’s mostly too annoyed by the fact that she has to spend her weekdays chasing them around instead of chasing stories.

Once all the hostages are freed and the cops secure the scene, Kara departs, flying into the alley behind Noonan’s and changing into her regular clothes before she heads inside to do a bit of research before her meeting with Elena Watts in a few hours (just because she’d used it as a cover doesn’t mean it was a bad idea…). She finds her favorite little two-person booth tucked into a quiet corner, plugs in her laptop, and gets to work, asking the waitress to please keep both the coffee and the sticky buns coming.

She gets a surprising amount done by the time she needs to leave for the interview, having a good foundation for what she wants to write and who Elena Watts is.

Ms. Watts turns out to be a pretty nice lady around Eliza’s age, if a bit busy and distracted by the steady flow of people in and out of her office. She answers all Kara’s questions with aplomb, happy to elaborate on most every point and eager to draw attention to the rising issue of homelessness among children and teens in the US.

“When I was young, my dad lost his job at the auto plant. It was supposed to be a temporary layoff, but the factory never reopened. We ended up losing the house, and we lived so far from our extended family that staying with them wasn’t much of an option. We lived in our SUV for six months, sleeping at shelters every now and again, if we could find one that allowed families to stay together. We showered at the local YMCA. Five people and a dog, living and sleeping in an old station wagon- even now, it sounds ridiculous. Eventually, we got back on our feet, but I never forgot that. It was just six months, but it was- and remains- the scariest, most uncertain time in my entire life, and it shaped me in a lot of ways I didn’t expect. And there are kids and families who do that for years. I just want to help them the way I wish that someone had been able to help us.”

At the end of the interview, Kara thanks her profusely for her time and for sharing her story before hurrying off to CatCo to type up a draft for Snapper (“What’s wrong with you, Ponytail, why is everything you bring me sappy and sentimental?”), which she finishes an outline of just in time to send it off before running to Big Belly and L-Corp for lunch with Lena.

She greets the newest in a series of secretaries (Anna? Amy? Ava? Lena’s really missing Jess, these days, but from what she’s told Kara, Jess is kicking butt in her new role as VP of Operations and will probably take over for the COO when he retires in a few years), and the girl waves her in distractedly.

And that’s when Kara’s day goes from normal to not, because inside the office are two masked men holding a stone-faced Lena at gunpoint on her balcony and demanding… something, probably. Kara’s a bit distracted by the loaded gun aimed at Lena’s head.

“Hey!” she yells, attracting both their attention. They whirl on her and Lena’s eyes widen in alarm, and Kara suddenly realizes three things- 1) she’s in her Kara Danvers clothes, not the supersuit, 2) she can’t speed into the suit now that they’re both looking at her, and 3) she has no plan.

Crap.

“Who the hell are you?!” one of them demands.

Kara… doesn’t have a good or snappy answer for that, and instead does the only thing she can think of- she throws the large milkshakes she’s carrying at them as hard as she can.

Which, in retrospect, is too hard, apparently because while yes, it is both funny and gratifying to see two grown men get absolutely leveled by a tasty dairy treat to the face, the one closest to Lena manages to elbow her in such a way that she falls backwards over the rail with an instinctual scream that makes Kara’s heart fly into her throat. She whips off her glasses, and by the time she’s out the window and speeding toward Lena’s flailing form, the suit is materialized. She gets under Lena, catching her carefully and dropping a bit further before slowing down (because she’s been made aware that when she doesn’t, the people she’s saving may as well be hitting the pavement), finally coasting to a stop about 20 feet from the ground.

Lena’s face is screwed up in a forced sort of focus, her hands clutching tightly at Kara’s shoulders and cape as she holds her breath.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks quietly.

Lena swallows thickly and nods, eyes still firmly closed. “I’m alright. Thank you- I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure how to get out of that one.”

“What was that? What did they want?”

Lena cracks an eye open. “Oh. you know, just my quarterly assassination attempt. I think my mother was starting to miss me, so she wanted to reach out.”

Kara snorts. “That really shouldn’t be funny.”

“Maybe not, but here we are.” Lena shifts a bit in Kara’s arms, cheeks a bit flushed from the adrenaline rush, and clears her throat. “Not to be rude, Supergirl, but do you think that perhaps we could continue this conversation… on the ground?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, sorry. I forgot we were, uh, flying.”

Lena chuckles as they ascend slowly back up to her office. “You forgot you were flying?”

Kara shrugs with an easy smile. “I guess you have that effect on me.”

Lena huffs a laugh against Kara’s neck, eyes squeezed shut again. They alight on the balcony, finding the two men still unconscious, covered in Kara and Lena’s lunch. Lena sighs as Kara sets her down, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What a mess.”

“Yeah, sorry, I sorta… panicked.”  

“I was so looking forward to a milkshake too…” Lena laments playfully.

“Well, then I have good news and bad news,” Kara says. She reaches out and gently wipes a bit of her own chocolate shake from Lena’s cheek with the pad of her thumb, tucking it into her mouth on instinct to get a taste of it. “The good news is, you do, in fact, have some shake on you!”

“Whats the bad news?” 

“Also that you have some shake on you.” Kara laughs, gathering the two men in her arms and hefting them a bit so they’re easier to carry. “I’ll get you another one. Be right back.”

She drops the men at the police station with a brief explanation before flying back into the office. Lena hands over her discarded glasses with a wry grin.

“I figured you’d need these before the police arrive.” She’s putting on a brave front, but she’s clearly still more than a bit rattled, if her too-bright eyes and thundering heartbeat are anything to go by. Kara steps closer and opens her arms in invitation, and Lena doesn’t hesitate to step into them. “Thank you,” Lena says fervently, tucking her face into Kara’s shoulder and wrapping her arms tight around Kara’s waist. 

“Always,” Kara promises, daring to press a reassuring kiss to Lena’s temple (and getting a bit of Lena’s strawberry shake for her troubles) before wrapping her up even tighter in her arms. “Are you actually okay?”

“I mean, my fear of heights has been reaffirmed,” Lena jokes, “but aside from that, I’m not hurt.”

“Good. I don’t like, love people pointing guns at you. Just so you know.”

“I’m not a fan either, for the record,” Lena drawls, burrowing even closer. “Even though I know you’ll save me, it still puts a damper on my day.”

Kara huffs a laugh. “Same.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, until Lena’s calmed down enough to stop shaking and calls her assistant (Audra, apparently) in, telling her what’d happened and that the police would be arriving shortly to take her and Kara’s statements, and please advise the security team to let them up discreetly. After the cops arrive, it’s a blur of questions, and Kara has to concentrate on telling the story of how she’d panicked and thrown the milkshakes at the men, and one of them had knocked Lena over the balcony (all true), and Kara had yelled for Supergirl, who had knocked the men out on her way to Lena (also technically mostly true. Technically. Mostly.). The police are sure to tell Kara that next time, she shouldn’t throw things at people with guns, and also to tell them both how lucky they are that Supergirl had shown up when she did.

“She’s always there when I need her,” Lena agrees, throwing a sly wink over the officer’s shoulder at Kara.

Kara just shakes her head and smiles. Even almost dying isn’t enough to make Lena not flirt with her. The woman is truly a marvel.

Kara’s comms crackle again, accompanied by Alex’s custom ringtone on her cell, and after assuring the police that she has no issue with giving another statement if they need her to later, hurries over to the DEO (making a quick stop in the back alley to change into her suit).

**

When Kara arrives, she’s told that J’onn and Alex are waiting for her in the Directors’ offices. She makes her way there, waving to the agents and scientists she knows. But it’s very weird, because every time one of them sees her, they start giggling before quickly hurrying off in the opposite direction. Like, literally everyone is whispering and pointing and giggling, and it’s giving Kara such visceral flashbacks to high school that it’s all she can do to not check her cape for a taped on sign that says ‘Kick me’ or ‘Freak’.

(Kids are mean.)

By the time Kara gets to her destination, she’s fully paranoid, sure that someone’s playing a prank on her, somehow, and that everyone but her is in on the joke. She opens the door with more force than intended and catches it just before the handle puts a hole in the wall, throwing Alex and J’onn a sheepish smile. She closes the door extra gently and leans against it heavily. J’onn and Alex just stare at her, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Busy day, Supergirl?” Alex asks, and after half a lifetime of spending time with her, Kara recognizes that she, too, is trying not to laugh. 

Kara’s had enough. “Okay, do I have something on my face? Or on the suit? Is someone messing with me?”

J’onn’s brow furrows. “No.”

“Then what’s the deal? Why is the entire DEO like… laughing at me? Did someone accidentally vent the lab fumes out into the main hub again?”

“No.”

“Did someone see me crash into that billboard last week?”

J’onn’s frown deepens. “What?”

“No,” Alex answers.

“Then why is everyone laughing at me?!”

“I mean, if I had to guess, I’d say it’s because of that,” Alex muses, nodding toward the big TV on the wall beside Kara.

She steps back to watch the news coverage of her dealing with the hostage situation this morning and frowns. “What, those guys? That was routine, what’s so funny about tha-”

“No, no, not that. That,” Alex clarifies, cranking up the volume.

“...reports are saying that the CEO of L-Corp, Lena Luthor, experienced an attempt on her life early this afternoon. Sources claim that she fell from a considerable height-”

“Hey, she was pushed,” Kara corrects.

“Shh!”

“...caught by Supergirl, who may have gotten a little… familiar with her.”

And there’s a video (clearly recorded on a cell phone but not the worst quality Kara’s ever seen) of Kara catching Lena and slowing to a stop above the sidewalk, of them talking quietly, of Kara’s hand definitely on Lena’s-

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Alex drawls, clicking the TV off with relish, a large, evil-big-sister grin spreading across her face. “Congratulations, Supergirl- the world just watched you grope Lena Luthor’s ass.”

“But I’m not- I wasn’t groping, I was catching! My hands weren’t… If it was groping, I’d be all up on her, and I wasn’t!”

“Camera begs to differ. It’s already trending on Twitter in National CIty.”

Kara puts her head in her hands and groans. “Why?! I was trying to save her!”

“You were definitely trying to save part of her,” Alex agrees. “Granted, it’s a very nice part...”

Kara’s head pops up, and she shoots Alex a look that’s between a pout and a glare. “You’re not helping.”

Alex feigns confusion. “Am I supposed to be helping?”

“Alright, enough,” J’onn cuts in before Kara can retort. “We just wanted you to be aware. I don’t think that this is going to be taken for anything more than it is- a humorous moment in the middle of a successful rescue. You shouldn’t worry about the press.”

And truth be told, Kara isn't worried about the press- she’s worried about the fact that she’s going to have to face Lena after this. Lena, who she knows for a fact has google alerts set for herself, Kara Danvers, and Supergirl, a gesture which is normally actually sweet and kind but is right now definitely gonna bite her in the-

“Okay! So, is that all?”

Alex blinks, looks over at J’onn, and shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Try not to make a habit of groping your crush when you’re in the suit.”

“I wasn’t groping her-”

Alex grins. “So you admit you have a crush? Interesting…”

“Alex!”

**

J’onn’s prediction is mostly right- no one seems to be taking the shots of her grabbi- saving Lena as anything other than a funny blip of a moment in their coverage of it.

He was wrong about the sheer scale. The clip had gone totally viral in a matter of hours, and seemingly every major network in the country has run the clip at least once as a bit of filler-fluff, and almost every major network anchor (including the ones at CatCo, the traitors) has made at least a passing joke about Supergirl being ‘Super-Handsy'.

Which means that Kara is very late getting back to Lena’s office with replacement food. But like, she’s been busy, okay? It’s not like she’s avoiding Lena, or something, because she’s embarrassed- which she isn’t, because she didn’t do anything bad or wrong and-

Anyways, it’s well past sunset by the time Kara gets to Lena’s office door again. She hesitates outside it for just a moment before shouldering the door open and knocking tentatively.

Lena’s attention jerks from whatever she’d been absorbed in to Kara, and a relieved smile blooms across her face. “Hey there.”

Kara finds herself equally relieved to not experience a repeat performance of earlier scary situations. “Hi,” Kara says, unable to resist smiling back. She raises the bags and cup carrier. “I bring grease and milkshakes. Again.”

“Oh thank god, I’m starving,” Lena says, rolling her chair away from her desk and rising into a deep and probably much-needed stretch. Kara very determinedly does not stare at the slight sliver of soft tummy that appears between her blouse and skirt at the motion. “I’ve been staring at this screen for several hours. And Sam called to yell at me- she says hello, by the way- she and Ruby are in town next weekend.”

“Good!” Kara crosses the room to the couch as Lena does, easily spreading out the veritable buffet of fast food she’d brought over the coffee table. “I mean, not good that she yelled at you, or that you’re still at work, Miss Luthor,” she says pointedly, receiving only an unapologetic shrug in response. “But good that, um-”

“I get it,” Lena chuckles, resting a hand lightly on Kara’s knee and boy, if that doesn’t make Kara’s brain go fuzzy and dumb again… “Thank you, for checking in.”

“Of course I was gonna check on you, Lena,” Kara huffs. “Plus, I know you probably didn’t get lunch, so…”

Lena hums around a mouthful of burger, chewing until she can politely speak again. “Well it’s delicious. Did you make it yourself?” she teases with a sly grin.

“Oh, yeah, totally. Slaved away over a hot stove for this- I just wrapped it in Big Belly wrappers so you wouldn’t feel bad about it.”

“Very clever.” Lena pops the lid off of her milkshake and drags a fry through it (an advanced culinary delicacy Kara had horrified her with initially but had eventually become a bit of a guilty pleasure). “Although I have to say, traditionally you’d have to buy me dinner before you grabbed my ass.”

Kara chokes on a pickle. “Oh no,” she groans, dropping the burger onto the wrapper on the table and dropping her very red face into her hands as Lena laughs beside her. She peers out from between her fingers. “I am so sorry, I was just worried about you hitting the pavement and like, catching you in the least jarring way and I wasn’t paying attention to where my hands were and I didn’t even notice until I got back to the DEO and-”

“Well I have so say, I feel a bit offended that you didn’t even realize you were copping a feel...” When the only response is another groan and a deep flush spreading from Kara’s neck to the tips of her ears, Lena relents. “Kara, Kara, it’s fine!” she laughs, pulling Kara’s hands away from her face and giving them a grounding squeeze. “Nia’s been sending me memes about it all day, which has improved my mood significantly. On the grand scale of fallout from assassination attempts, this one was at least funny.”

“I know that’s supposed to be comforting, but all it makes me wanna do is wrap you in bubble wrap forever,” Kara informs her.

“Pass on that. But seriously, don’t worry about it- I know it wasn’t on purpose- unfortunately for me, you’re too noble to do something like that,” Lena laments playfully.

And whether it’s the knowledge that Lena is not, in fact, upset, the overall weirdness that has been this day, or this delicious burger fueling it, Kara feels a bit emboldened. “Hey Lena…”

“Yes?”

“What if I wanted to grab your butt? Just, y’know, as a hypothetical. For future reference.”

Lena quirks a brow at her, fighting a smile as she contemplates this. “Hmm. Strictly hypothetically?”

Kara scoots a bit closer on the couch. “Sure.”

 “Well, you’ve already bought me dinner…”

“And lunch, technically. Even if I gave it to the bad guys.”

“True. Plus you saved my life, so that gets you some points, probably.”

Kara pauses in her sly scooching. “Oh, hey, wait, no, that’s not-” 

“Kidding, Kara. I know you’d never use that to your advantage. I, however, have determined that strong moral fibre and nobility do, in fact, earn you more points, which is my choice on the matter and you get absolutely no say in it.”

“Oh. Um, alright, I think.”

Lena stares off into the middle distance, tapping her forefinger thoughtfully against her chin. Finally she shrugs. “Yes, I think you’re fulfilled the prerequisites for a bit of grab-ass today.”

Kara snorts, Lena laughs, and soon enough Kara takes her up on the offer.

**

“Hey Kara, remember that time you grabbed Lena’s ass and it made international news?” Nia asks around a mouthful of mushu pork.

“You mean last week? Yes, I remember,” Kara drawls. Beside her/halfway sitting on her lap, Lena snorts.

“That was the best.”

Alex glares. “Um, excuse you, no. No it was not. I had to sift through so much thirsting over my sister on like, every social media platform. It was the worst day of my life.”

Brainy’s brow furrows. “Surely that cannot be correct, Alex. Statistically speaking-”

Alex holds up a hand, cutting him off. “Trauma can’t be measured, Brainy.”

Kelly chuckles and presses a consoling kiss to Alex’s cheek, and it makes the tough agent melt into a doe-eyed puddle of mush that Kara snorts. And she says they’re gross... Kara sneaks a glance at Lena from the corner of her eye, and she catches Lena looking at her. She leans close and jostles her gently as she drops her head onto Lena’ shoulder. “We’re never gonna live that down, are we?”

“Probably not.”

“We have the worst friends.” When this elicits nothing but a chuckle, Kara tips her head back to see Lena still looking at her, a soft smile playing at her mouth and shining in her eyes. And like, this whole thing they’re doing is new, with the kissing and the actual dates and the... everything else. But the thing where Kara catches Lena looking at her and she doesn’t look away? That freakin’ knocks her out, every single time. “Hey,” she manages.

Lena grins down at her. “Hi.”

So yeah. Maybe the initial circumstances weren’t ideal, and she doesn’t love the mockery that’s been heaped upon her by all of her friends and loved ones (including Winn, who’d sent a missive from the future that literally just said ‘LOL’). But the fact is, Kara muses as she surges up just enough to kiss the corner of Lena’s mouth, that she doesn’t regret a thing.

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Omg I love all your drabbles they are so amazing and brilliant I can’t believe you do that for free! What a blessing you are!! I was wondering whether there would be a part four to the vacation au and if not could you do maybe more jealous Cassian but in your lawyer au I’m obsessed but honestly anything you write has me happy!

This is so sweet I am so glad you’re loving the drabbles! I did a second part to the vacation AU a couple days ago so I’m going to go with Jealous Cassian in the lawyer AU. I already *kind* of did this but I’ve been doing jealousy light lately and this time we are cranking it up to 100. This one is kinda long and pretty angsty and I think I definitely need to smoosh all these lawyer drabbles into a mini story that follows Nessian from meeting while studying for the bar exam and then through snippets of their careers so maybe that’s what I’ll do next.

Actually facing Nesta in court was an extreme rarity. All of her non pro Bono work was strictly solicitor. Drafting contracts and negotiating deals in different chic board rooms with little glass bottles of Perrier and complimentary latte carts trolling the halls.

Nesta thought that she didn’t want to litigate. She thought that people didn’t like her and because of that she was a bad advocate. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Watching Nesta fight for something that she believed in, truly believed in, was the closest thing to a religious experience Cassian had ever known.

“And I would urge you to consider in your decision, your honour, the fact that even if it should apply in this case, the very law my learned friend is attempting to uphold is currently under review by the Supreme Court and may soon be overturned on the basis of being unconstitutional as well as unconscionable.” Nesta took a pregnant pause.

“If that happens. If this law is overturned, as you well know, it will not be retroactively helpful to my client. My client who was born here. My client who grew up in Queens. My client who can draw you a map of which bodegas has the best coffee vs the best sandwiches and their proximity to the nearest train, and if that doesn’t qualify her as an American, and a New Yorker, then I don’t know what does.” The judge smiled a little at that. It was a calculated risk, the emotional appeal. But Judge Miluski was already on Nesta’s side and she was a born and bread New Yorker and she had the rare distinction of being a member of the judiciary with a sense of humour. “If this law is overturned, which we both know is highly likely, then my client will be sent to another country, a country she has never even been to, not because she did anything wrong, but because this trial happened a few weeks too-”

Nesta trailed off, eyes caught at the quietly opening gallery door. A man stepped in. Tall and thin and… greasy. Hair slicked back with so much product Cassian didn’t think he’d feel it if he hit him on the head with a hammer. Which he desperately wanted to do. That brutish, violent, raised in foster homes in Harlem side of him that even a legal education and a closet full of Armani suits could never quite polish out of him lit on fire at the sight of this creep. This asshole who was wearing fucking asics with his $4000 suit. And no tie. Top three buttons of a pinstripe white shirt unbuttoned. What a fucking rube.

Except that this guy. THIS fucking guy, made Nesta lose her train of thought. This guy who walked into court late and had yet to drag his eyes up from Nesta’s ass, had distracted her. Caused her to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and smile a little. This shy, light, cutesy little smile that absolutely did not belong on Nesta Archeron’s face.

When Nesta smiled it was a sly, knowing, victorious thing that curled across her lips and set Cassian’s heart hammering in his chest.

This… this was insanity.

The man smirked, deep and arrogant, as he stood at the back of the courtroom, hands slid into his pockets. Not even respectful enough of the proceedings to sit down.

Nesta gathered herself quickly. The whole mess over in under 20 seconds, but Cassian noticed it. Even as Nesta went on and cited the law and the competing jurisprudence and the ethics and the constitution, he couldn’t focus. All he could think about was that little smile.

Cassian said his final piece, the judge ruled, as they both knew she would, in Nesta’s favor, and it was all over.

Nesta didn’t even gloat like she usually would have. She just stuck her hand out, the absolute picture of professionalism, and shook his.

“Good working with you, Counseler.” She said, as if he hadn’t pulled her around the side of a building and pushed her body up against a brick wall the other day, moulding her into him as they fought over this case. Discussed their future. Their passions.

She’d rejected his invitation to dinner, but she always did. It was a part of the game. A game that Cassian was determined to win.

“Who’s the tech bro?” The sneakers with the suit and the unbuttoned shirt and the general shitty attitude all pointed to that being the only reasonable profession.

“Babe,” the slimy man in question pushed past the swinging waist high half door that separated the gallery and the space where counsel’s desks sat. “Let’s go.” He wrapped and arm too tightly around Nesta’s waist and pulled on her a little.

Cassian curled his fists into his palms so hard his nails bit imprints into the skin of his palms. Babe? Telling her when to leave? The pulling? No.

“I’m Cassian.” He held out his hand. “ADA. What firm do you work for? Haven’t seen you around.”

“Tomas.” The man scoffed, “And I’m not a lawyer. Not interested in all that gibberish you’re type is always spewing. Sounds like pure nonsense to me. I’m a tech investor.”

Yeah. That sounded about right. No actual skills. Not an engineer or developer or even a business manager. Just an idiot with a trust fund throwing money at whatever looked cool.

“Well, Tomas. Do you know why they call that big exam full of all that gibberish you hate the bar exam?” The weasel just raised his eyebrows. “It’s because once you pass it, then you are an attorney. And allowed to cross past this BAR.” Cassian pushed Tomas back out the little half door again. “Which separates the civilians in the gallery from the lawyers making their cases. So maybe learn how to show a little respect.” Cassian scoffed, flicking his eyes to Nesta, “In a few different areas of your life.”

“What the fuck, bro?” Tomas rolled his eyes. “This is why I fucking hate going to your lawyer parties and shit. Jackasses like this.”

“Tomas, please.” Nesta placed a hand on his chest, Cassian tensed, and that seemed to calm Tomas down. Not Nesta’s touch, but another man’s jealousy.

“Why don’t you bring the car around. I have to work out a court date for another matter with Cassian but I’ll be right out.”

“Yeah, ok.” Tomas glared, keeping eye contact with Cassian as he kissed Nesta’s cheek, hand travelling too far down her back. “Hurry though.”

“Of course.” Nesta smiled that same tiny little smile that made her look like a doll on a shelf and Cassian wanted to scream.

“What the fuck are you doing with a piece of shit like that?” Cassian minced no words as he turned to face Nesta.

“Excuse me?”

“Pretty straight forward question, Nes.”

“You… you don’t know him. He’s not like that once you get to know him.”

“Sure he’s not,” Cassian scoffed.

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that your boyfriend, who I’ve never heard of or seen before today despite knowing you for years, had a chance to see you in court. Had a chance to watch you all fired up and passionate and brilliant and instead he walked in late, stared at your ass instead of listening to what you were saying, and then shoved his way up here and pulled at you to leave like you were some kind of toy he didn’t mind tearing the arm off of.”

Nesta blinked. Huffed out a breath. “We’ve been on again off again for a while. That’s why you haven’t seen him before. And he just doesn’t like lawyer stuff that’s why he’s like that in here ok? Not that it’s any of your business.”

“So you’re dating someone who not only doesn’t recognize how brilliant you are but won’t even let you talk about your job?” That was wrong. That was so wrong. That was… why Nesta was so intense with him. Why she debated and fought and talked for hours. Because she couldnt do it at home.

“Why do you even care, Cassian? Let’s just set a date and-”

“Fuck you, Nesta.” Her jaw fell open. “Fuck you for even asking me that. You know why I care. You can’t play dumb with me like I assume you do with him.”

“You don’t know anything about my relationship!” Nesta defended a little too vehemently.

“I know you can’t yell at him about his take on immigration laws,” Cassian stepped closer to her. “I know you can’t get a little tipsy off your favorite Malbec and go on a rambling tirade about the corrupt judiciary and your twenty three- or twenty five depending on the night- reasons why voting for judges completely undermines the integrity of the legal system.”

The was almost no space between them as Cassian looked down, gently set his hand under Nesta’s chin and raised her gaze to meet his. Burning with anger and passion and barely concealed desire. “I know that he didn’t understand why you were crying when RBG died. Because he doesn’t care about how appointing Supreme Court judges works or what that meant for the future of the court. And because I know that you weren’t with him that night. You were with me. Just like election night in 2016. And the Kavanaugh trials. And when the travel ban came into effect. You found me. Because I get it, and I care about your thoughts on all of those things. I’m devastated by them too. You were with me, Nes. And don’t you dare pretend that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does,” Nesta let her cheek sink into his palm. “It means everything Cassian, but…”

“But we fight,” he smiled. “We bicker and yell and cross ideologies and disagree on all the little things. But not the big things, Nes. Never on the big things. We disagree on how to change the world, not what we want to change in it. Isn’t that what matters?”

Nesta swallowed. “I can’t risk losing you.” She said quietly. “I need you. For all of those reasons, I need you to be in my life and if we… I hurt the people I love, Cassian. So if I let myself love you, I would only hurt you. And I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

“So you date him.” Realization was an arrow sailing into Cassian’s chest. “Because you won’t hurt him. Because you could never actually love him.”

Nesta swallowed. “See? See how awful I am?”

Cassian moved his hand to her back, pulled her into his chest. “Go,” he whispered. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ll be here. And I’ll be waiting for you to realize that I’m not going anywhere. That I can take it. Whatever you want to throw at me, I can take it, Nes.”

[nicole-lynne]

Pool Party Disaster

Notes: Well y'all, because I'm the worst, this has been sitting in my drafts for the better part of a year. It was supposed to be for @kayteewritessteve's writing challenge...and then I lost every single motivation I had to do anything I enjoyed. So it's 100% late and who knows how it really turned out. But I finished it so here ya go!

Description: Steve and you are in a secret relationship, but it may not be so secret anymore after some semi-public sex.

Based off the prompt: "I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one would notice."

Warnings: NSFW +18. Minors DNI.

You watched lazily as a bead of water rolled down Steve’s shoulder blade, past the dip of his back, and disappeared into his swim shorts. In a large group of people, you knew you should look away, but it felt impossible to drag your eyes away from the place where the shorts hugged his muscular thighs.

“You know you’re drooling, right?”

Snapping your eyes in the other direction, you shifted to find Bucky hovering behind your chair with an annoying smirk on his face. Folding your arms roughly, you ignored the heat in your cheeks. “I was not.”

“Yes, you were.” Bucky said as he moved to sit in the pool chair next to you. “But it’s okay, I don’t think anyone else saw.”

“There was nothing for anyone else to see anyways.” You said snarkily.

“You two aren’t discrete at all, you know? Steve practically popped a boner when you walked out in your suit. Somehow all these other idiots just haven’t put two and two together yet.”

Truthfully, you weren’t surprised that Bucky had figured it out. He was Steve’s best friend and a trained assassin. It’d been more surprising to you that it had taken him this long. You and Steve had started this, whatever this was, over a month ago and no one had mentioned it yet.

There was a part of you that wanted to deny it just for the satisfaction of seeing Bucky question himself, but the other part felt relieved that someone finally knew. And as you glanced over at Steve, laughing with Thor about something, you knew, no one denies Steve Roger. He’s the kind of guy that girls trip over themselves to get a few moments of attention.

“Look, Buck-”

“It’s fine, it’ll be our little secret.” He squeezed your arm lightly, clearly seeing all of the thoughts on your face. “Why not let you two have your fun while you can. You know Tony will blow a gasket once he finds out.”

The idea of your brother finding out about your budding romance with the supersoldier wasn’t exactly something you wanted to think about today. Clearing your throat, you gave Bucky a smirk with a bit of gratefulness behind it.

“Although, I’m still amazed you’ve been able to keep it a secret from the little play-boy genius.”

“It’s not like we’re making out right in front of him, Buck.” You said, irritated.

“No, you were just practically undressing him with your eyes like a love-sick teenager.” Bucky guffawed loudly, and you shoved him backwards futilely. He stayed planted to the chair, snorting at your weak attempt. “Okay, fine, I’ll drop it. I’m just saying, you better get a plan together before Tony stumbles upon it on his own. After the Accords and...well, you know he’s not Steve, or my, biggest fan.”

“I know...you know I don’t blame either of you for that though.”

“We know you don’t, doll. It’s still hard to live with.” Bucky said with a grimace.

“Buck, it wasn’t you. And I’m glad Steve protected you from Tony. You’re his best friend and he needs you in his life.” Reaching forward, you squeezed his hand until he looked up at you. “Besides, who else would annoy me if you weren’t around.”

“You know you love me.” He scoffed, giving you a big grin. “So what are you guys gonna do?”

“Eventually, we’ll work on a plan, but for right now, thanks for keeping it quiet. You’re a great friend, even if you are a sadistic ass sometimes.” You smiled and patted his leg before standing up and moving towards the patio door that entered into the huge kitchen.

To your back, Bucky shouted, “Baby, you don’t even know the half of it,” making you shake your head and giggle. Sliding the door closed, the rest of the noise from the backyard hushed to a dull roar.

You made your way toward the island, in search of something to snack on. Finally you located some tostitos - score! Pulling out a handful of chips, you turned to watch the party through the glass panes that took up the whole fourth wall.

You were pretty sure that Tony had invited the entire company for his barbeque and no one dared to decline. He wasn’t exactly scary or anything, but he definitely liked things a specific way and he always made a mental note if someone wronged him - in his eyes. That was the reason it was so hard to admit this thing with Steve. It wasn’t a secret that Tony didn’t like Steve and he wouldn’t be too happy to know that his little sister might be falling - hard - for the supersoldier.

The sound of the door opening and closing brought you back to reality and you looked up to find Steve watching you intensely from the other side of the kitchen. The light framed him, reflecting on the few drops of water on his chest, and his hair was spiked from where he’d run his fingers through it.

“Hey there, soldier.” You said, smiling sweetly at him.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He replied, walking around the island to you. “You look like you’re having fun.”

“Yeah, it’s alright. Not as much fun since we have to keep our distance.”

“Seemed like Bucky was keeping you company.” He said curtly, his gaze focused on the solo cup on the counter.

You raised an eyebrow, “um, yeah I guess so.” Steve hmphed grumpily. “He was teasing me about being so obvious while I checked you out. He said we’re not discrete enough to be having such a naughty fling.”

Surprised, Steve lifted his eyes to meet yours. “Oh. I thought... Well, I thought he might be-”

“Hitting on me?”

“Something like that.”

Reaching forward, you slipped your hand into his. “He wouldn’t be dumb enough to do that, Steve, when I’m so obviously into you. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you all afternoon.”

Steve let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. “I’m sorry, doll. I guess it’s just seeing you like this has my head all cloudy. It’s hard not to imagine every guy being attracted to you looking like that.”

“Are you serious? I’ve been watching these vultures circle you all day hoping to get a shred of your attention. It’s ridiculous.” You laughed haughtily and hopped up to sit on the counter top. “I think one girl jumped into the pool in front of you like six times trying to catch your eye.”

“Really? I haven’t even noticed.” Steve said, amusement in his voice, as he moved to stand between your legs. “I was too busy focusing on how incredible you look and how much I wanted to have you wrapped around me.”

You let out a shuddered breath as he dipped his head down to press a kiss against your exposed shoulder while his hand moved under your top and pinched your hard nipple. Every time he talked like that, so different from his public image, it made you black out. There was only the tiniest voice telling you that anyone could walk in at any moment.

“You’ve got to stop talking like that or I won’t be able to control myself.” You panted, glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one had spotted you through the tinted glass.

Steve’s lips trailed up your neck until his teeth nipped at your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. “What if I don’t want you to control yourself?”

Lord have mercy, this man was going to kill you.

“I’ve been so desperate to have you all day, sweetheart. I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one would notice.”

“What if someone’s watching?”

“No one’s watching us. They’re all too scared of Tony to look for us.” His fingers on his free hand traced back and forth along the tops of your thighs, leaving goose bumps where he touched.

“Aren’t you?” You forced yourself to ask.

Steve leaned back to look at you, “Scared of Tony? Nah. I’ve fought him for the people I love before, and I’ll do it again if I have to.”

You couldn’t help the smile that grew from his words and shifted closer to his body, letting the heat of his skin radiate through you.

Breaking the silence, Steve’s gruff voice said, “Now do you want to explain why you snuck out of my bed before I could have my way with you this morning.”

You hadn’t meant to leave him hanging this morning, but you’d been late for your meeting already, and if the hard-on pressed against your ass was any indication for how the rest of your morning would go, you couldn’t risk being any later.

“I-I was late for a meeting that I couldn’t miss.” You managed to stutter as his mouth trailed down and sucked on the pulse point in your neck, knowing that always drove you crazy. “I’ll make it up to you tonight, I promise.”

“I don’t want to wait until tonight,” He nudged your thighs apart more and ran his index finger along the edge of thin material covering you, rolling your nipple with the other hand. “I want you now.”

Before you could protest, he pressed his thumb against your clit through the bottoms and captured your mouth in a kiss, swallowing your moan happily. Your lips parted and his tongue slipped against yours. In just a few moments, he had you worked up and you were grateful that the swimsuit was absorbent. Then, with no hesitation, he broke your kiss and dropped to his knees, his pupils blown with lust.

“Steve,” you hissed, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’ve been dying to taste you, sweetheart.” He said as he pulled the fabric to the side hastily and ran his tongue through your slit. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan and, instantly, you ran your fingers through his hair. “God you’re amazing.”

“Don’t stop.” You breathed out.

Quickly, he sucked your clit and flicked his tongue back and forth over it, causing your eyes to roll back with intense pleasure. His finger teased at your entrance and, with one look up to your blissed-out face, he pushed in one finger to the knuckle.

As slow as he could, he dragged his finger out of you, hooking it just right against your g-spot, then pushed it back in. Each time, playing with your clit in the same rhythm. You were dripping wet but Steve wasn’t letting any of it go to waste. The warm feeling was growing in the pit of your stomach and you knew this orgasm wouldn’t take long at all.

You were beginning to regret not waking him up this morning.

His other hand cupped your ass and pulled you closer to his face just in time for him to hit your g-spot and your clit at the same time, pushing you just over that edge. Fire raced through your veins as you rode out your high, his moans sent vibrations through your body that made you buck against him harder. His hands gripped you tightly to keep you sat on the counter until you started to come down, his mouth still working against you in gentle motions before letting your suit snap back into place.

Slowly, he pressed a soft kiss to each of your thighs and stood up, letting you pull him in for a kiss and you moaned as the taste of yourself hit your tongue. You let your hands roam down his chest to stop at the top of his shorts. Only hesitating for a second, you pulled them down enough to reveal how hard Steve was.

“Can I fuck you, baby?” His breathing was ragged, his lips brushed against yours, as you pumped him in your hand.

All your inhibitions went out the window and all you could do was whimper in response. With one swift motion, he jerked your suit to the side and pushed into you, both of you groaning in pleasure. He didn’t pause to give you time, instead, he began thrusting into you mercilessly.

Your head tipped back, letting him drop his lips to your exposed neck. He slammed into you over and over, rocking your body on the counter, and you dug your nails into his shoulder, desperate for something to ground you.

“Feels so good, sweetheart.” Steve murmured. “Were made for my cock.”

His dirty words made you moan, and you tightened your legs around his waist in response. Slipping his hands under your ass, he lifted you up so he was hitting a deeper angle. With the change, you slipped your hand between your bodies and started circling your clit, bringing your orgasm closer.

“Don’t stop, Captain.” You huffed.

The second you used his title, his eyes darkened with lust and his speed picked up as he stroked into you roughly. Each time, he hit the perfect spot and your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hand had stopped moving, distracted by what Steve was doing. Pushing your hand to the side, Steve moved into the spot and rubbed in sync with his movements.

“You gonna be a good little girl and cum for me?” He growled.

A few more thrusts and your orgasm washed over you and you clenched around his dick in pleasure. Immediately, he attached his lips to yours in a passionate kiss and you slipped your hand into his hair to tug him closer. He pulled out of you two more times before he faltered and his own orgasm hit him. You could feel him pulsing in you and there was no stopping your own body squeezing him for everything he had.

Both of you were panting, trying to catch your breath, occasionally making eye contact and laughing about what had just happened. Gently, he pulled out of you and tucked himself back into his shorts before reaching for a few napkins on the counter and cleaned you up as best as he could.

“Thanks, soldier.” You giggled, adjusting your suit bottoms.

Steve opened his mouth to respond when FRIDAY interrupted. “Mr. Stark requests your presence in the study.” All the bliss drained from your body instantly. You whipped your head around to look at Steve but his face was already hard as stone. Sliding off the counter, you dragged yourself toward the study with Steve trailing behind you, silent as a shadow. You lingered at the door for a moment before pushing the door open and walking in.

Behind the desk, Tony sat back in his plush chair with his hands steepled together. His lips were tight together in a harsh line and he was glaring daggers into Steve behind you.

“On the counter? Really? I eat there.” Was all he said.

“H-how did you know?” You squeaked.

“I always ask FRIDAY to inform me of any... inappropriate behavior when I throw a party.” Tony raised a brow incredulously, “People are animals and can’t keep their hands off each other in public, clearly.”

“Hey,” Steve snapped, “keep it respectful.”

“Why don’t you take your own advice, Cap.” Tony jumped up. “That’s my little sister you had your filthy hands all over.”

You blanched at the thought of Tony seeing what you’d just done.

“I’m sorry that you had to find out this way, but that doesn’t give you the right to judge either of us.” Steve took a step toward Tony. “I’m well aware of some of your indiscretions in your past.”

“Indiscretions are way different from absolute betrayal.”

“I think you’re being a little dramatic now, Tony.” Steve ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “I think I deserve to be dramatic after my sister was being railed on my kitchen counter.”

“That’s enough,” Steve stood in front of Tony and balled a fist into his shirt roughly, “you’re not going to talk about her like that again.”

Neither of them paying attention to you, you backed up and dropped onto the couch. Tears swelled in your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. This was the worst case scenario of your brother finding out - no, this hadn’t even come up in your list of worst case scenarios. You were absolutely mortified that a moment like that had been captured on camera.

Not able to stop it, a sob slipped from you and you buried your face in your hands. Steve’s eyes moved from Tony’s face down to you, instantly releasing Tony’s shirt and moving to your side.

“Sweetheart, don’t cry.” He wrapped his arm over your shoulder and tucked you into his chest, making you cry harder, your body shaking violently.

“Ahh kid, I...” Tony trailed off, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Steve glared at Tony harshly, then leaned down to kiss your head. “Baby, I need you to try and take some deep breaths. Can you do that for me?”

Lifting your chin with his fingers, he waited patiently until you made eye contact with him. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, but Steve didn’t judge, only waited until you nodded slightly. He took a deep breath and you followed his motions, inhaling deeply, holding at the top, and releasing it slowly.

Steve held your focus as he breathed with you until you stopped shaking and the tears were dried on your cheeks. He gently cradled your face, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs, before kissing the tip of your nose.

You knew, without a doubt, that you loved Steve more than anyone you’d ever been with. The fact that he’d helped you through this breakdown had just made it more clear that he was the one you wanted to be with. Your eyes fluttered shut and you worked up the courage to look at your brother. Turning to him, you grimaced at the blank look on his face.

“I’m sorry about how you found out, Ton. But I’m not sorry for loving Steve. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m not going to let your own emotional problems get in the way of my happiness.” You croaked, your throat raw from crying.

Tony’s face fell and he had the decency to look ashamed. “Kid, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry for what I said. I guess I was just in shock at...”

“I know this isn’t easy for you, but believe me, this wasn’t how I wanted you to find out either.” Steve squeezed your hand in support and you gave him a small smile.

“You really care about her, Rogers?”

“No, Tony.” Steve said and your head snapped up to see him grinning at you, “I love her. I’m in love with her.”

Not having a care in the world, you launched yourself at him to give him a huge kiss. Steve chuckled but kissed you back with the same enthusiasm. Tony groaned and grumbled until you leaned back, a blush on your cheeks.

“Look, I guess this all fine and dandy, but let’s try to keep the displays of affection in front of me to a minimum. I already have to bleach my eyeballs and I don’t need any more reasons.” Tony headed toward the door, avoiding looking in your direction again. “And Cap, if you hurt one hair on my baby sister’s head, I will blast your ass all the way to Wakanda.”

You and Steve bust out laughing and you let him haul you to your feet. He held your face affectionately and you leaned into his touch.

“Since we’ve got Tony’s blessing now, you want to sneak home for round two?” He teased.

“No way, Captain. Now that we’re free, I’m planning on spending the whole day with you in the pool.” You took his hand in yours and pulled him to the door. “Besides, I’ve got to show all those girls who you belong to.”

“Belong to?” Steve darted forward and flipped you over his shoulder, smacking your butt playfully. “I think you’re all mine, baby.”

[writing-with-l]

Our Forgotten Devils: Chapter One

Hi darlings! So, in honour of reaching 100 followers earlier this week, I’ve decided to post the first draft of the opening chapter of Our Forgotten Devils! (Still very much a work in progress, but it’s a start!) 💛

Taglist: @corkythewriteblr @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @ashen-crest @thelaughingstag @imthefutureauthor @fiercely-raging-writer

(Text continues under the cut) 

I: The Knocking Unceasing

  It’s a little after midnight when I wake up. My awareness of myself and my surroundings returns slowly and, when it does, the first things I notice are the sore neck and the twisted spine, a consequence of falling asleep on my cheap sofa while watching some god-awful spy thriller earlier in the night. I rub my eyes with a clumsy fist and an involuntary groan of discomfort, dragging myself into a position that vaguely resembles sitting upright. 

 Reluctantly, I open my eyes fully, and I regret it a mere second later. In the corner across from me, the TV is still turned on, sending a harsh glaring light emanating through my living room which stings my tired eyes. The program has changed now, though: gone is the cliche crap from earlier. Instead, a newsreader wearing a crisp navy business suit and a fixed grim expression stares blankly straight into the camera, reading aloud from the prompts in front of her.

 “... a body, discovered this morning, which is the third murder in the city since last week. A police department spokesperson has confirmed this evening that, like the previous murders, the victim was found slit open from neck to navel. Local residents have been urged to avoid travelling alone late at-”

 I manage to dig the remote out from where it had been lost between the sofa cushions and punch the OFF button firmly.  No one in their right mind wants to listen to that shit when they’re alone in their apartment in the middle of the night, and I’m no exception. Too many real-life horror stories at midnight and my imagination will start to give eyes and limbs to the shadows that creep around the dim corners of my apartment. Already the darkness pressing in on me from all sides has begun to make me a little uneasy, and I see no good reason to make that worse. Something nags in the back of my mind - that odd feeling you get when you think you should remember something but you don’t - but I dismiss it. I’ll only overthink it, like I usually do, and by that point any hope of sleep will be nothing more than an unachievable fantasy. 

 There’s silence now. I push myself up off the sofa, fully intending to head for the comfort of my bed, when something stops me in my tracks. The silence is suddenly shattered by a sharp knock on my front door. It startles me enough that I jump backwards almost on instinct, and the back of my shin collides with the pointed corner of the glass coffee table, causing me to swear under my breath. 

 The knocking continues - harsh, forceful, almost desperate knocking - and I make my way to the door, stumbling over my own abandoned shoes. I have no idea who the hell could possibly be looking for me in the middle of the night, but there’s something about the urgency of that insistent knocking that makes me rush to answer it. It takes me a few minutes of fumbling to get the bolt and chain undone and, as I do, my mind races. I’m not sure who I expect to see on the other side of the door, and my brain is working overtime trying to figure it out in the next ten seconds - family? a friend? the police, even? - but none of the answers I can come up with ease the tug of anxiety in my stomach. In my experience, if something is serious enough to warrant an interruption in the middle of the night, chances are it’s not going to be good news. 

 In a decisive attempt at silencing my anxiety, I yank open the door.

 A figure stands in my doorway. It takes me a minute, as my eyes sweep over their profile, but when the realisation finally hits me, it does so with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. 

 “Alex…” It comes out like a gasp, faint and surprised.

 I don’t know what it was that I expected to see when I opened that door, but it sure as hell wasn’t Alexander Michaelis. I haven’t heard a thing from him in just over five years; ever since he left town in a hurry one cold September morning, since all my texts and calls were met first with single sentences, then with one-word answers, and then finally with radio silence. Standing in front of me now, he looks the same as he did back then - a little older, of course, but otherwise identical - and the sight causes my heart to miss a beat. 

 Alex shifts nervously, his eyes downcast, studiously examining the threadbare hallway carpet. “I- I didn’t know where else to go.” His voice sounds shaky, almost frightened, and it makes my anxiety return with force. “Can I- can I come in?”

 “Yeah,” I say automatically. For a moment, that’s all I can say, my mind somewhat overwhelmed with shock and confusion. “Yeah, of course. What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

 Alex doesn’t answer me right away. He hesitates in the hallway for a moment, gaze flickering between the floor and my face like he can’t believe I’m really standing in front of him. I imagine my face must look something similar. He takes a step across the threshold and into my apartment, but he doesn’t get much further than that before he all but collapses into me. My arms move to hold him almost of their own accord: it’s like a reflex, something I couldn’t control even if I wanted to. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that, but it doesn’t matter, I’ve got more important things to think about right now. Like the fact that Alex isn’t wearing any kind of jacket, and I realise that he’s cold as ice and shaking like a leaf.

 “Christ, you’re freezing!” I mutter, even though I don’t suppose that information will be a surprise to him. 

 I lead him into my apartment and across to the kitchen, and he follows easily but unsteadily, as if he’s uncertain on his feet. I sit him down at the kitchen table, in the chair closest to the radiator which I reach down and turn up to full. Alex stares blankly in front of him, running his forefinger repetitively across one of the grooves in the wooden table. Shrugging my own jacket off, I drape it around his shoulders like some pathetic excuse for an emergency blanket. He pulls it tighter around himself and mumbles a quiet “thanks”, while I busy myself with switching the kettle on. 

Once it’s boiled, I fill two chipped mugs with steaming tea and sit down opposite him, pushing one of the mugs across the table towards him. Tea was always my nana’s solution to everything. Too cold? Tea. Can’t sleep? Tea. Flynn’s having a panic attack again? Tea. I suppose she rubbed off on me more than I thought. Alex takes the tea with one hand and offers me a small smile, though his eyes are still staring downwards and the repetitive movement of his other hand doesn’t stop. My own hands are shaking, almost imperceptibly though, and I don’t quite know why. 

 As Alex drinks his tea, I take the moment to look at him properly under the harsh flickering kitchen light, and I realise that I was wrong before: he doesn’t look the same. His light blond hair, once sleek and styled, looks like it hasn’t been washed in days, dishevelled in a way that seems to suggest countless hours of nervous hands combing through the platinum strands. His blue eyes, bright and sparkling in my memory, are now dull and tired, bloodshot and rimmed with red. He looks like he’s been through hell and, in spite of the years that have passed, it still makes something clench in my chest. 

 “Alex, what’s going on?” I ask again.

He drains the last of his tea and carefully sets the mug back down on the table, before lifting his head to meet my gaze. It’s the first time tonight he’s actually properly looked me in the eye. When he finally speaks, his voice is hollow.

 “Ana’s missing.”

[bookswitchcraftandcats]

Rainy Days (Part 4 of 4)

Link to AO3 -----  Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Summary: Emma and Julian are in charge of the London Institute for a week and find a box that once belonged to Cordelia Carstairs and contains poems written to her by James Herondale. The story switches between Emma and Julian and oneshots about things that happened in Jordelia's life to inspire the poems.

Sorry if the formatting for the poems is messed up, I tried.

Thank you all so much for reading this story, I really enjoyed writing it <3

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

“Daisies must have been her favorite flower or something” Emma says as they look around the room. Looking now that was a very obvious statement. Even some of the blankets neatly folded on the end of the bed had daisies embroidered on them. The wall paper was lined with a daisy print and on the box itself was intricately carved flowers. There are also some very old flowers that were carefully pressed and put in the box next to the poems. They were afraid to touch them for fear that they would fall apart. 

“Yeah, maybe I will do a painting of her when we go home,” Julian says thoughtfully, “I should include some daisies if I do.” 

“I’m sure it will be great,” Emma says thinking of his other paintings. He has done so many great pieces that if he was a mundane she was sure his work would be in an art gallery. The institute itself had turned into a sort of gallery these days, some people visited just to see the murals Julian painted on the walls.

They both were laying back on the bed and Jules had his arm around Emma. This was a nice day off after the busy day they had yesterday, they had run into some demons by the river and were outnumbered. Luckily, Emma is the best shadowhunter of their generation. Her wielding Cortana was definitely a scene he wanted to paint when he got home. The grace of her movements when she was fighting was like a dance, he could never quite capture the movement with a set of acrylics. 

He checked his watch, they had plenty of time before Jem and Tessa would get here. 

“We should read another poem,” he suggested. “They are kind of interesting to see what they said to each other 100 years ago.”

“Ok, I will,” she says, reaching into the box again for another poem. There was one titled Rainy Days.

“That seems fitting for today,” Julian says, glancing out the window. Emma reads the poem aloud.

Rainy Days

Outside the sky is dark and gray, The rain falls in puddles on the ground, We are in the library by the fireplace, Listening as it down pours all afternoon.

The heat of the flames warms the room, You by my side warms my heart. Even on the darkest of dreary days, You light up everything by being there.

Now you are asleep next to me, While I write about our day. I'm starting to think that I quite like, These warm and rainy days.

It was another rainy spring day in London, the snow had just melted and it was still very cold out. You could hear the wind blowing all around outside, it was quite the stormy day. None of the merry thieves or their family members would be venturing out today, they too were curled up by a fire, just like Cordelia and James. 

James now looked at the sleeping Cordelia on his lap, she looked so at peace. Her soft red hair was undone and free from it’s unusual style, he combed his fingers gently through it. He thought about the day they had had. Today was very good weather for writing. With a notebook in his hand he began to come up with ideas. 

------

“Good morning,” Cordelia says, sitting next to James at the kitchen table. She poured a cup of tea and looked out the window, it was raining very hard and forming puddles in the street. 

“Good morning” James responds, reaching for some breakfast, “Looks like any plans for today are cancelled”

“I think it is far too cold to go adventuring in London,” Cordelia says with a shiver, it was almost spring but they still had many cold days ahead of them. 

They finished their breakfast talking about rain and what crazy things their friends have been up to lately. Christopher had been working on a new invention, Mathew caused some trouble at the Hell Ruelle, nothing much different than usual. They then decided to head upstairs to the study where they could sit by the warm fire and play a game of chess. 

“Shâm-Mât” Cordelia says, winning her 12th consecutive game in a row. James just laughs as they reset the board for another game. There isn’t much to do and he is still holding on to hope that he can win at least one round.

“You're too good at this,” James says with a smirk. She has always been brilliant at battle strategy, she could outsmart any opponent she faced. He looked at her with a smile as she planned her next move, her face was full of concentration. He could feel her plotting his demise. 

They played chess until it was time for lunch, the sky was still gray with rain clouds. They then decided to venture to the library to look for a book to read on this cold and rainy day. James walked over to put more wood on the fire while Cordelia went to look for a book. They settled on the couch by the fire, Cordelia leaning her head against James’s shoulder while he read from an old volume of The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens. There were a lot of Dickens novels in the library mostly from James’s parents' fascination with the author. Will and Tessa were both staying in Wales for a week and were not at the institute, it was just James and Cordelia. 

She began to fall asleep and he smiled as he see the book on the night stand. He grabbed his notebook and began to write. 

---------

So now James was still sitting on the couch trying to write a poem about the letter but he realized the poem wasn’t what he should be writing about, he spent the whole day with Cordelia and she was more fierce and interesting than any storm. 

______________________________

“That was very fitting for today,” Emma says, putting the poems back in the box. She looks at the time quickly, Jem and Tessa would be there soon. 

“It must rain here a lot,” Julian says, “I miss the beach” They laugh, they would be back in LA soon enough to deal with the chaos that ensues there. 

They had just renovated the institute more and had been busy painting more murals on the walls. They also updated their computer and Jules got a laptop which made some things easier and more organized. 

They hear footsteps coming down the hall and Tessa looks into the room. 

“I see you found James and Cordelia’s room,” she says with a smile. 

“I haven’t been here in years,” Jem says looking around the room. Tessa was looking at the box in Emma’s hands. 

“I see you found Cordelia’s jewelry box,” Tessa smiles as though she is remembering her, “She is an ancestor of yours, she was a Carstairs before she married my son.” 

“James, right? Did he write poetry?” Emma asks. Tessa looked a bit confused.

“Yes, he did. But I thought I had all his notebooks saved at my house, did you find one?” 

“We didn’t find a whole notebook but we did find a few poems he wrote to Cordelia.” Jules says. Emma opens the box and pulls out the pieces of paper. 

“I always wondered where the ripped out pages went, I always assumed they were just rough drafts that got tossed away.” She paused for a moment, “did you two happen to find a book called The Beautiful Cordelia. I have been looking for it for a while now and I know Cordelia had it.”

Emma pointed over to the shelf they had originally found the box on. Tessa pulled out the leather bound book that had The Beautiful Cordelia across the top in fancy calligraphy and a small “by Lucie Herondale” on the bottom. 

“Thank you,” Tessa said, holding the book. Jem was looking at something across the room. 

“Hey, did some of our stuff get moved up here too,” he asked, picking up a stele. 

“I think so, did you find something?” Tessa asks. 

“This was Will’s stele,” He says, handing it to her and looking slightly incredulous. “How much of our stuff is still here?” Tessa laughs.

“Leave some for the other generations, we don’t want to fill our house with 100 years worth of clutter.” 

They all turn to leave and go get something to eat. They would never forget the poems they found, the remnants of someone else's rainy day, of another time period far away yet so near to them. While the day was dreary, dark, and wet, never let the weather depict whether there is a storm cloud raining on your day off.

_____________________________

Cordelia looks at the poems one more time with a smile before placing them in her new jewelry box. It had been an anniversary gift from James. It is wooden with her name and intricate little daisies carved onto it. The box truly is beautiful. It had been raining so she took the opportunity to organize a bit but now the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds. 

James walked over and kissed her on the cheek while she latched the box shut. 

“ We were invited to a picnic in the park, just the usual group. Do you want to go?” He asks, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

“That sounds lovely,” she says, standing up from the bed and carrying the box over to the shelf. She puts it between The Beautiful Cordelia and a book of persian mythology her mother had given her. She slipped on her shoes and took James’s hand. They walked off happy as can be, standing in the sun for a change instead of being stuck inside on those rainy days.

Tag list: @fortheloveofthecarstairs  @thehotfaeriethreesome  @shadowrunner2000  @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @surrounded-by-exquisite-clutter @gabtapia  @niathesanctuary-bolastair-kanej

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list :)

[hetalia-has-a-secretary]

Imagine a scenario, where the country representative develops romantic feelings towards their soldier, who 100% loves them back, but thinks about it as "I-its just a patriotic love, r-right??" And what's worse, it's a wartime, and the soldier is so loyal, that they're willing to die for their country with no regrets like a hero, without realizing how much it might hurt representative's heart. Even though the victory is extremely needed, (c/n) can't leave their soldier to sacrifice themselves, but they can't be together all the time either (cuz soldier is a mortal human, and country.. is a country). Note that they probably won't confess to each other until the war ends. (Or until some dramatic event, if you choose an angsty route)

So.. what do you think about it? I'd ask you to make axis&allies hcs on this, but I think it's a way too much xD You may choose any of countries you like to explore this~

This sat in drafts too long. I apologize for getting caught up in the Headcannons so much that I'd didn't do the exact thing you asked for... (I have a habit of doing this and I'm extremely sorry) but if the countries heard news that their soldier was injured they'd all 100% fight to get to them. I also changed the scenerios up a little For each country because it just fit better for the Headcannons. I.E I had a scenerio in my head, and it leaked all over the ask :3

Trigger warnings: Blood, mentions of violence, and amputations, minor mentions of alcohol. (If I missed anything let me know!)

Allies and Axis x Treasured!Soldier: Battle Scares.

Allies:

America:

The amount of panic set in was unbearable.

It was bad enough he had to painfully separate himself from England, but to hear news that he might lose his best soldier?

No, they were more than that, but he was so busy with the war he forgotten all but how he truly felt.

Even more so, he had to distance himself because a country and a human love was (at this time) unheard of.

He tried but seeing them laying on a dirty table, whiskey in hand to numb the pain, that was the final straw.

Running over and fighting past the nurses and doctors he stood at their side, caressing their face.

"Sir? Why are you here. I can still hear the gunfire. They're closing in on us..."

The soldier's illusions did nothing to stop Alfred from spilling his emotions to a mostly drunk, and badly injured human.

The worst pain came from the lack of response, and being pulled away from their table side.

Back at the main base of operations he was too distracted to be drinking over a victory.

To him, it was still worth the freedom, but not worth the loss.

Then it burned him at how many others felt this pain.

His head spun from the alcohol, but not being fully drunk, he was hyper aware of the whole place that had gone silent.

Looking around for the cause of the broken happy atmosphere he spotted his beloved soldier, crutches under each arm, and missing a leg.

Yet they still gave him the biggest smile.

"Was I not invited to the celebration?"

England:

"Too soon" he thought, no he begged to whatever cruel god would allow this to happen. How his soldier became cannon fodder was beyond him, but he's going to best the life out whatever general allowed them to go the first wave of attack.

Not only were they badly injured, but they were still somewhere in enemy territory. The other soldiers couldn't find his top combatant, but England is.

He was gone for hours, even if he found them dead, bleeding out, or worse they would be found.

Meanwhile the rest of his army grew sick with either guilt, or shame for not trying harder.

Back out on the field, underneath fallen trees and broken up rocks laid his gem.

His gem. He tried to avoid it. Tried to sweat it off as admiration, but it was to no avail.

Heart sinking, he screamed and hollered as he dug out the fallen soldier from the rubble and debris.

Soft groans made his heart flip as his treasured soldier shifted.

"shh, shh, shh, shhh- do not move love."

He tried to quiet them, but what they said next surprised him.

"Love, huh? I can't tell you how long I've wanted to hear you call me that..."

Blush across both faces, they made it back to base.

Since then his feelings towards them had grown, and he had them the new general of his army, that way they were able to stay as close as possible.

France:

This was the worst case scenario.

Everyone was celebrating in the mess hall, the final victory was won, but something was off.

When he realized his top soldier was MIA from the party his face paled. Panic setting in, he rushed around and questioned everyone.

How where they not accounted for? His heart ached and body was shaking viciously as he went to check their room.

Nothing. His soldier was nowhere to be found.

Tonight was the night he was planning on flooding a private room with his feelings towards them. But now...

Then it dawned on him to check the infirmary. He almost regretted it.

Sat up right, bandage on their side they sat. Alone.

He rushed over asking a thousand questions. Why, how, what.

He was surprised and utterly ticked off when they told him they had hidden their wounds, and had fixed themselves up.

He still had someone check them over, just in case. Despite their proper knowledge of these kind of wounds.

He wanted to say it. How heavy they made his to give feel, and how fast his heart would beat.

But he refused to cause any more strain to them. For now, they drank and ate in private. Plans of a new tomorrow giving them both reassuring hope.

China:

He froze, the enemies retreating.

All around him his men cheered but his heart lumped up in his throat as he darted over to a figure a few feet away.

The battle was exhausting, and a good handful of his calvary had fallen. Including his soldier, and close friend.

They had given a shrill shriek moments before the battle was won, and China couldn't see where they were through the fighting. Not until the enemy cleared way did he see them on their knees. A blade embedded in their back.

Once he rushed over the others followers through and it was a team effort to get them somewhere safe to examine them.

He was now under the assumption that his fighter was not going to make it to sun rise.

But he did not leave their side. He was not going to let them die alone, and though they faded out of consciousness, he took his time filling their ears with his confession.

Chokes and tears filling his eyes he laid his head and slept.

Then morning came. He stirred but refused to look up at the body that rested before him.

That is until he heard a faint snore.

His face flushed and he sprung up, almost missing the fact their hand had made it's way into his. A silent acceptance of his feelings.

Russia:

The blood spilled from the enemies as he easily cut open into everyone of them. His anger raging inside him.

Part of him recognized his blood lust, the rest of him not understanding why.

The only thing that gave away to his true feelings was the tears that tricked down as soon as he saw his soldier staining the snow with their own blood.

Moments and blinding rage passed quickly as he stayed worldless, carrying his favored human to the closest infirmary.

He sat by their side as the nurses and doctors worked at them. Refusing to move, and dare they fail him, punishment would be considered.

Dark violet eyes hummed with regret, hatred, and sadness.

If anyone had stared long enough they would see the broken breaths he had, the only sign of his inner emotions.

He did not want to lose something- someone so precious to him. To be left alone and so quickly after building trust between them was more than he could bare.

The gasps and coughing of his soldier stirred him, and he rose from his chair.

They coughed up blood, and cussed. Eventually they gave Russia the news that they had been unconscious, but not too badly hurt, but complete recovery would take time.

He nodded and thanked them for their work and left. The only sighs of his true affection was the rich delicious food and paper flowers that would show their way to the soldier's room.

Yet the war wasn't done yet, so Russia had plenty of time to figure out his own feelings, and hoped that his soldier would help him with that.

Axis:

Germany:

Hands dug into the fabric on his knees. He was side by side with his soldier, yet somehow some stray debris had found its way into their arm, almost severing it.

He was also injured, but not as badly. His knee was scrapped up but that pain was nothing as he was forced to watch his top soldier squirm and writhe in pain as their arm was... Taken.

He wasn't allowed past the curtains, his own wounds needing to be addressed.

The only comfort he could offer was his words of pride, and praises for their courage. He knew it wasn't enough to help them as the screaming stopped, and he felt a creeping fear grow stronger. Concern over their life taking over.

Moments went by, and he was finally allowed up, so he waltz right past the curtains and stood beside their linen bed.

Grabbing a washcloth and water, he softly cleaned up what was left of the blood, both on the bedding, and on the outskirts of their less brutal wounds.

He would take care of them when the others couldn't. He would be the reason they would recover, he had to be.

The day they fully came too, they requested to see him specifically.

It was Germany who was in shock of their confession.

"I needed to get it off my chest, guess that meant the arm had to go too..."

They laughed and he almost choked on his tears as they asked for a hug. He obliged.

From there on out Germany kept his own promise to make sure their life was worth living for. With or without mutual feelings.

Japan:

He's never touched anyone before. But this was a dire situation. His general, and most valued fighter, had been struck down by the cares, and was bleeding badly.

Japan had managed to fight off the enemies ambush, and was ripping sleeves and excess fabrics to stop the blood flow. The sounds of his close friend echoing through the trees shook his core.

He struggled carrying him to a medic, and his concern never waivered.

He almost walked away, unable to handle their screams as their wounds were treated.

He decided to tough through it anyway.

In that time he reflected over the situation, and he didn't realize the tears that had fallen. He wiped them away as best as he could. But the memory of their skin against his hand had set forth an unfamiliar urge.

It wasn't anything romantic, but the desire to protect them had increased, and it took him weeks after they started healing to come to his senses and admit his feelings.

The air was silent, and if felt stale. What was being asked felt almost forbidden.

Almost.

Italy:

White flags, after all, were just white flags. And some enemies did not take treaties lightly.

With Italy being under control of another country, his own army had suffered greatly. His heart weighing heavier with each loss, or vanished person.

But the one that hurt the most was a soldier he had praised time, and time again for risking their lives when he,.or the others couldn't.

A few scratches here and there were almost normal, but one day they had returned badly wounded.

Italy felt a surge of panic and fear as he ordered anyone to help treat their wounds.

His guilt for not staying closer grew with each passing second. He grew depressed as days went by. His soldier not arousing from their slumber.

Then one day they were gone. Confusion and hurt swelled within him.

He was close to just accepting the fact he just lost someone he had come to love, and almost openly.

He grew more fond of all the rejected passes and flirtatious remarks he gave his soldier. It was a little cat and mouse game for them both. But you can only play with fire for so long.

Then the door to their safe space swung open. His dear soldier at the door way, an enemy map in hand, blood on their shirt, and a smug grin in their face.

They had successfully infiltrated enemy lines, and came back with an advantage.

Italy wasted no time holding them, regardless of the others, and whispered his love to their ears. His solider promising to submit to his past affections and remarks as soon as they have more time to breathe and rest.

Yeah- y'all thought I wasn't going to get this sappy. Y'all thought wrong~ (just kidding I got super sucked up in this prompt I don't think I answered it correctly but ya know what. The sappiness stays!). Ignore literally any and all inaccuracies Because I know nothing about history or how armies work. These scenerios are purely created to fit the prompt and my style of writing so... There.

[martialstories]

Tape to tape - chap. 1

Coops - High School AU

All credits for the world & the characters for @lumosinlove. (I’d also like to thank the list of 100 most popular baby names in Canada in 2019 and Most Common Last Names In Canada for helping me figure out names for side characters.)

I did some more research and found out that hich school in Montreal actually lasts only 3 years instead of 4. For the sake of my sanity, we are just going to ignore it since I have no idea how to work with that time frame.

With this chapter we jump backwards in time to see what the beginning of high school was like for Sirius.

PSA. The texts in cursive are inner dialogue. ;)

Enjoy!

(ps. Hazel, absolutely loved the new chapter but hated the cliffhanger. Please post the next one.)

_______________________________________________________________________

Sirius admitted that he was nervous. It was the first day of high school. He didn’t really stress about school since hockey was the only thing that mattered in his family. But he didn’t like things changing. And this was a big change.

You’d think that school wasn’t important for a hockey player. Partly you’d be right. But school was the only thing that made Sirius feel normal. There he wasn’t the hockey prodigy with a name widely recognised already at the age of 15. He wasn’t the family disappointment who had gotten beaten behind closed doors for years. There he was just a regular teen who isn’t the best of the class but passes every exam.

“Have a nice day Sirius!” Linda wished from the driver’s seat. “Try to relax a little. You’re gonna be fine!”

Sirius glanced at her with his face emotionless. “I’ll try. Bye.” He said before getting out of the car.

This was the part he hated. He hated the mask he had to put on every single day. He hated that he wasn’t sure if his little brother would remember who he really was or if he’d only remember this stonefaced teen who could only try to smile when sneaking into each other’s rooms. He wasn’t even sure if he remembered how to smile properly.

He hated this and wanted to get out of here but he knew he was still too young. If he wanted to pursue a career in the NHL he’d have to stay in school for a couple more years and get drafted after he graduated.

”Black! I didn’t know you’d come to our school! Listen up ladies and gents, this man will be the biggest name in the league one day.” Sirius turned towards the side of the main stairs. There he could see sitting around 10 boys and girls all wearing the same school uniform. A dark eyed boy with cornrows was smiling brightly towards him.

”Nice to see you Felix. And don’t jinx it.” Sirius said walking over. Felix raised his hand to ruffle Sirius’s hair but he was fast enough to duck.

”Alright, alright. It’s nice to see you too Little one.” Felix grinned at him cheekily.

Sirius groaned a little. ”Oh don’t start that again. This year there will actually be people my age in the team.”

”Oh I know. But you can’t blame me. You were actually tiny when you started last year. That name was earned.” Felix started explaining to his confused friends. ”Black here was way too good for his own age group so they decided to transfer him to play with us older ones last year. The thing was that this boy hadn’t really hit his puberty like the rest of us so he was about a head or two shorter than the rest of us.” That caused Felix’s friends to laugh. Sirius was shaking his head.

”Where’s your other half Felix? I thought you couldn’t do anything without him.” Felix’s twin brother, Levi, suddenly appeared at their side. The rest of the gang jumped a little but Sirius just ducked instinctively to avoid the hand trying to ruffle his hair.

Levi didn’t even try to act surprised. ”Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Hello, Little one. I still think it’s slightly creepy that no one can surprise you. What do you think Felix?” ”Definitely creepy.” ”As I said.”

Sirius just chuckled lightly and tried to move on as fast as he could. There definitely were reasons to his constant awareness of the things happening around him but he’d never say those reasons out loud. ”Alright boys. I have to head to class. You don’t mind telling me where the French classes are?”

”Yep, you just walk in, take the first stairs you see up to the third floor, turn right and you are in the language corridor. Then just look at the classroom numbers.” Levi guided him.

”Thanks Levi. I’ll see you at practice!” Sirius shouted over his shoulder while walking towards the doors.

Sirius had asked Linda to drop him off a little earlier than usual so he’d have time to find his first class. Bumping into the Wright brothers had cut that extra time down to a couple of minutes. As he walked along the corridor Sirius kept his eyes open in case he’d see any of his relatives that would need to be avoided. He knew that he’d have to face them at some point but the first day wasn’t the right time to do that. The longer he could avoid them the better.

Once Sirius finally reached his French class he could see it was almost full already. The teacher greeted him with a nod and told him to go sit at the back of the class where there were two free seats next to each other.

’Hopefully I am the last one. That way I wouldn’t have to sit next to anyone.’ Sirius thought as he lowered his bag to sit next to the desk. Sirius sat down and glanced around the room to see if he recognized anyone. There were a couple persons he knew from his old school but he didn’t know them enough for them to try to start a conversation with him.

Before he could let out a sigh of relief one last person walked through the door. Sirius watched as he walked towards the teacher who directed him to go sit at the back next to Sirius. As the boy started to walk across the class Sirius got a better look at him. Slightly taller than himself, kinda lanky but his stance was strong. Curly light brown hair, couple of freckles on his cheecks and hazel eyes. A small scar on his nose and he was one of the few people who could make the school uniform look actually good.

’Cute.’ Sirius thought. ’Wait, what? Since when have I thought boys were cute?’ ’Since him. And the cute ice cream vendor that we met during the summer with Reg. But mostly since this one. This one is also hot.’ ’What? No. Shut up.’

The boy had already sat down next to him as he was having that fun little piece of inner dialogue. (’More like the beginning of an existential cris-’ ’Shut up!’) The boy looked at him and offered him a small smile. Sirius just nodded and turned towards the front.

The teacher introduced herself and went over what to expect from this class. After 15 minutes she told the class to get to know the person sitting next to you as you’d be doing a lot of exersices with them.

Sirius eyes widened a little. ’Shit.’ ’YES! Now we get to know their name!’ ‘I still don’t get what you are talking about.’ Sirius turned towards the boy sitting next to him.

”I guess we are going to be a pair.” The boy said. (’Ah, his voice is like the prettiest dream.’ ’What does that even mean?’)

”Yeah, I guess so.” Sirius answered. (Stop being a jerk, idiot! Go on, introduce yourself.’ ’Shut it.’)

”I’m Remus.” (’Mon dieu! His name is Remus! Merde, I’m going to faint!’ ’Please, I beg you. Do that!’)

”I’m Sirius.”

”Nice to meet you.”

”Nice to meet you as well.”

After that they sat in silence for a few moments until Remus opened his mouth. ”Is French you first language?”

Sirius turned towards him. ”It is.”

”Oh, well in that case I think I should warn you.” Remus chuckled quietly and raised his hand to rub his neck. ”I’m really not that good in French. I just moved here like a week or two ago so I haven’t had the chance to learn. I actually am a year older than you but they put me with the younger class in French since I need to catch up on this subject.”

Sirius raised his eyebrow. ”I see. Where did you move from?”

”From Wisconsin. This city is quite the change from the small town I used to live in.” Remus told him.

”I can believe that. Did you learn any French before moving here?” Sirius asked, starting to get genuinely interested.

”Yes, I decided to take it as an elective subject two years ago but you can’t really learn a language in two years.”

”Well, it’s good that you don’t have to start from nothing.”

”D’accord! That’s enough. Now let’s go through the first chapter.” The teacher interrupted the chatter. Everyone started to focus on the teacher but Sirius was too busy gazing out the window and trying to figure out what he was feeling.

After French Sirius had a math class before lunch. There he found Felix and Levi again and sat with them. He knew it might have looked weird, a first year sitting in a group of third years, but he had no intentions to find new acquaintances. He had met the brothers last year and they were the few people he actually was friends with in the team. While Sirius played center, Felix and Levi were a pair of defencemen. They were also loyal and kind and Sirius liked them. After lunch he had two more classes before it was time for hockey practice.

The rink wasn’t far but Levi offered him a ride since they had to carry their equipment with them. Sirius accepted the offer so after school he climbed into Levi’s car. Once they arrived they got their gear on and headed to the ice.

”Okay, boys! Settle down and gather around! I know it must have been an exciting day but you can spare the talk for home. Today we are going to do warm-ups and then some drills. After those we should play some easy games to figure out the best positions for you.” Coach called from the bench.

Sirius didn’t really like this part of the season. They had started training a few weeks ago already but it was still confusing with the new players. The team dynamic always changed with older players leaving and younger ones coming in. It always took a little while for everyone to find their places.

”Let’s start with sprints, so skate around the rink and every time you reach a blue line sprint to the other one. Questions? Ok. Go!” Coach said and glanced at his watch. The team started to skate around the rink. Some players wanted to focus on the drill like Sirius but others were chatting casually.

Levi and Felix skated up to him. ”Look at the boy coach is talking with. Do you think he is gonna join our team?”

Sirius looked over to the bench but the boy there had already started to walk away from the rink. ”I don’t know. Didn’t see him.”

”Well he had skates on and looked to be around our age.” Levi reasoned.

Just as Sirius was going to answer Coach called them over. ”Good work! Next we are going to move onto the next drill but before that I want to welcome a new player to the team. This is Remus Lupin. He just moved here from Wisconsin, so be nice.”

Sirius froze a little. He watched as Remus came from the tunnel wearing a team jersey. He nodded at Coach and said hi to the team before kicking himself onto the ice. ’Oh this is wonderful.’ ’Stop. Focus!’ Sirius shook himself out of his frozen state as Remus skated over to stand next to him. They exchanged nods with each other and turned towards coach to hear him explain the next drill they were going to do.

For the first half of practice Coach made them do drills. While waiting for his turn Sirius could try and figure Remus out. He could see that Remus definitely knew what he was doing. His movement with the puck looked natural and easy.

At the beginning of the second half Coach gathered them around himself. Then he instructed the ones that played last year to find their old lines. Sirius stayed where he was as two guys skated towards him. Grayson Lee and Fenrir Greyback. Grayson was a smart guy and player and Sirius was glad to have him on his left wing. Greyback on the other hand was completely another story. In Sirius opinion he could have easily been a part of the Black family, with how racist and homophobic he was. Sirius really hoped he wouldn’t have to play another year with him but it seemed like he’d have to. None of the new players seemed good enough to compete with Greyback yet.

After they had gathered there was still about 10 guys left. ”Alright, now let’s see what we have left. Roy, you play left wing right? Go over there. Is here any defencemen? Ok, you can be a pair. Any centers? You can go…” Coach started distributing them into lines. At the end there was one new line created and the rest had been spread around the team. ”Let’s try with this. I’ll change your lines if needed. Black and Ricard, you first.”

Sirius won the first puck and immediately realized how much he had missed playing. During the summer they had had hockey camps and a few practices but it had been mostly other forms of training. He had missed how he could just play and forget about himself for a while.

Coach shouted directions and shift changes from the bench. These matches really didn’t have any winners. It was just to see who played well with who. When Sirius wasn’t playing he was following other players. Really he was just waiting for Remus to get on ice since he was the only one who he hadn’t seen play.

Finally coach shouted for Sirius’s line to get on. At the same time the opposing line was changed with the line Remus was in. ’Well, no we’ll see how he plays.’

The puck was dropped and Sirius won it. He passed it to Felix in defence who passed it back to him. Sirius started to circle opponents when suddenly someone came next to him and stole the puck from him. He turned quickly to see the other player already skating over the centerline. ’Is that Remus?!’

”Black! What are you doing?” Greyback shouted at him from across the ice.

Sirius just ignored him as he raced to get to Remus before he got the goal. Sirius could see Remus looking around him in search for his teammates to pass the puck to and realizing that they were still in their defensive zone.

’He’ll have to try to score by himself.’ Sirius thought. Remus seemed to have come to the same realization as he skirted around the goal. Remus managed to avoid Greyback trying to slam him against the boards and flipped the puck over Plante’s right shoulder. Coach blew his whistle in a mark for a goal and Remus’s teammates, who finally got to him, slammed into him. The bench was standing and thrumming the boards approvingly.

Coach shouted over the noise. ”Alright Lupin! We gotta change this up a bit, it’s clearly not working as it should. It sure is a pity there’s no tape on you as it would make my job a lot easier. Let’s put you with the older ones.” Coach decided to try Remus in Ricard’s line. Sirius’s line jumped over the boards for a break as another one settled to face Ricard’s.

Remus could clearly play better with Ricard’s line but the dynamic still wasn’t the best match. Ricard’s shift consisted of big guys who used their sizes in advantage. Remus on the other hand wasn’t as big but was one of the fastest players Sirius had ever seen. ’I wonder if we’d play well together.’

Ricard’s team scored a goal and it was Sirius’s turn. After they had played for a few minutes Coach whistled. ”Greyback! Switch with Lupin.”

Everyone stopped. It was rather rare that the top line would be altered. Especially with a newcomer.

”But Coach! Lupin hasn-” Greyback tried before Coach cut him off. ”Stop complaining. I want to try this out.” Coach nodded at Remus who was looking between him and Greyback. He jumped onto the ice as Greyback shot him a dirty look.

Remus took his place on the right side of Sirius and the puck dropped.

At the end of practice Sirius had already gotten used to the new dynamic of his line. He actually wondered how he had coped without it. Without Greyback Sirius’s line could simply use their speed and skill in advantage. Greyback was moved to Ricard’s line, where he in Sirius’s opinion fit well. He, after all, was on the bigger side and usually liked to use his size over his skill.

Remus on the other hand had been a complete surprise to Sirius. He didn’t often encounter players who could match his level but Remus was one of them. When Sirius may have been the best in handling the puck and one of the fastest, Remus was definitely the fastest and didn’t leave far behind in puck handling either. He also played well with Lee and Sirius was sure they would be a fatal trio this season.

[everlastingfable]

a jumbled mess of my thoughts about voltron

This’ll probably be the messiest post you’ll ever read. I’m done trying to finish this and edit it into something coherent, so I’m just combining the 3 drafts I have written out into one massive post. I doubt anyone will read this whole thing, but each draft is a sort of rewrite of the last, so there’s a lot of overlap. But there’s also a lot of new thoughts too as I kept thinking about this. There’s also a lot of unfinished thoughts.

There’s mostly negativity in this btw. This fandom had/has an amazing ability in making you think that this show was utter garbage. on par with riv//erdale or s//pn, but it really wasn’t. Like many shows they had weak points, it was never perfect, but it’s much better than we’re told to remember it as.

Intro from Draft 3 because I liked the way I started it:

This is all of my thoughts about Voltron, the show itself and the fandom. I have tried to write this post out for over a year or two now, so it was originally intended to be my final thoughts about the show. Obviously, it’s evolved since then into whatever this is. There may be some things that I’ll be wrong about, because I’m not about to dig through hundreds of discourse posts and old interview videos to prove a point that I doubt anyone’s gonna care about. This will 100% be based on my thoughts, opinions, and experiences.

That said, I don’t even know how to begin to describe how much I love this show. I’m probably one of the few people who have no regrets about enjoying this show as much as I do. I’d wholeheartedly recommend watching it, because it’s genuinely a good show. Voltron did the unimaginable for me. I don’t usually enjoy sci-fi stories. I especially don’t enjoy mecha stories. Yet somehow, Voltron combined the two and made a show that I loved so much I can’t stop thinking about it even though it ended over 2 years ago.

Draft 1: thoughts about a year after it ended without rewatching any seasons since it ended

It’s been about a year since voltron ended. I never wrote my thoughts about s8/the show then so here it is now. Because I decided to wait a year I honestly don’t remember a lot of specifics. But I still have a lot to say about it. This is very long and is basically everything I have to say about this show. I love voltron. It’s been an important part of my life during college. 90% of all papers I wrote were about voltron. But as much as I love it, I won’t deny that it fell apart at the end. 

Note: I tried to categorize these thoughts so I don’t get off topic and can talk about everything fully. But because they overlap so much there’s definitely some minor repeats when I connect two parts but decided to hold off talking about it all the way until the right section.

PRODUCTION

This is something I’ve expressed concern over while it was airing, but in a span of 2 and a half years, they premiered 78 episodes. That’s a lot, especially when you consider that production for s3 started after s1 premiered. There’s a lot of really good voltron review videos out there that aren’t just “oh I’m so cool I hate voltron” but there was one that talked about how the production was a mess and the writers couldn’t make up their mind for the endgame ship. And while that doesn’t sound like an important issue, it really does show when it comes to how characters are written together and (I think) the fandom war. 

Summarizing what that video said because I don’t remember who made it, the writers/producers never made up their mind on which ship was supposed to be endgame (klance, sheith, allurance, kallura). And this really does show in the show itself. I don’t like klance. I especially hate it because of my experience with the fandom, but I won’t deny that they were sometimes written romantically. The same goes for sheith. And that’s the problem. 

I don’t think the world building parts of the show was fully developed either. Shiro was supposed to be a teen like everyone else but then he was an adult. His and keith’s relationship was honestly vague for a good while. I don’t think anyone really knew how each characters’ relationships with each other was supposed to progress. Was allurance always supposed to be endgame? Because they didn’t really interact that much until like season 6, and then it was kinda sudden from what I remember. There was very little, if at all, parts where we were shown oh allura might like lance romantically. Keith’s relationship with the main cast didn’t exist for like 3 seasons. It was messy. 

Speaking of which, keith disappeared for a good portion of the show. I assume it’s because steven yeun was busy. Which is fine but then I think about how quickly voltron came and went, I wonder why they couldn’t slow down a bit so they could still have steven voice keith during those episodes. Maybe it’s because of how much I love keith, but he honestly felt like a central character to me. 

If I think about teen titans, for example, this show also had 5 main characters. Sometimes certain characters would get a spotlight for a season, but all-in-all they were fairly equally represented. It didn’t feel like robin was the main character. But that’s how I feel about voltron. Keith, and shiro to an extent are the main characters. A good portion of the plot relies on them. Shiro got kidnapped, keith leads them to the blue lion. Shiro is the leader with keith has his right-hand man and they mostly interact with each other. So when shiro “dies” and keith takes over, it starts to feel like keith is now the main character. Now he’s the leader and the arc is about him growing into becoming the black paladin and stopping lotor, who is his main enemy. But then he disappears. 

Again this is most likely because of my bias towards keith, but the episodes after that felt lackluster. Lance didn’t really get his character growth to become a good second-in-command. Because that development was supposed to be based around keith. :P. A big part of lance’s growth is to learn to stop needing to feel that he’s better than keith. And him accepting keith as the black paladin was a huge part of it. But with shiro as the leader again lance loses that development. Keith’s not in the picture anymore, and the person in-charge was already in a leadership position and has nothing to learn by being there. 

Before I go way too deep into my thoughts about the plot/characterization, I do want to mention the animation. The fighting scenes are amazing and one of the most beautiful 2d animation I’ve seen. That is, when it is actually animated and not just the camera panning on a still image. Here’s where my biggest concern over the time comes in. 2 years is absolutely not enough time to animate that many episodes. I was genuinely worried for the animation company because it could not have been a good experience. And yes, we got more episodes sooner, the quality definitely dropped and it’s a real shame. Who knows when we’ll get another american cartoon in this style. I love this animation style but it takes time and a lot of skills to do, so not that many companies do it. I honestly wished they took their time with the show not just to get more time to animate, but also to flesh out some of the plot.

PLOT

As hunk said in one episode, they don’t linger on dramatic events that just happened. This show is very fast paced, and that’s not a bad thing. But they never took the time they needed to really feel the weight of everything that happens. Keith’s galra heritage reveal was basically swept under the rug. So was the shiro clone, lotor’s death, zarkon’s death, naxzela, and so many more. In general, that was a big problem with how the episodes went. If it wasn’t for the sheer number of fanfics covering those topics, they were really swept under the rug. It honestly kinda felt like the writers didn’t know what to do with the aftermath of their reveals. But some of these were pretty essential to the plot of the story. 

Keith’s part galra! So he doesn’t look it but there had to be obstacles with voltron forming the coalition. He’s part of the race that caused this war. I honestly think we should’ve seen that reveal become part of the plot, or what was the point of it? They could’ve just as easily wrote keith to be a regular human just like everyone else. Taking the time to add that part of his character needs to have some significance in the story. And yeah, they had krolia appear but she wasn’t really a significant character except to kinda magically fix keith’s problems. In general it felt like they forgot parts that they were foreshadowing with keith. Why could he turn purple sometimes? Did that quintessence he was hit with fix him or help him hide the galra parts? Why does he look so human? What is up with him having that quintessence sensitivity? I’m all for shows ending with some questions unanswered because sometimes it’s impossible to answer it all and let it feel natural, but this just felt like they forgot or decided it’s too much of a hassle and just ignored it.

Okay going into more specifics now, s8 was kinda meh. It especially felt bad because it came out the same day as spiderverse which had a very similar villain motivation, but objectively done better. I think honerva’s motivation came out of nowhere. We see in the flashback episode that she was so intent on getting knowledge that it literally destroyed daibazaal. So, it was established that her motivation is knowledge. Even though she lost her memory and regained it, as haggar she was still very focused on quintessence. We know she was gathering a lot of it, and maybe they said it and I forgot, but we never knew why. Family wasn’t really shown as a motivation for her. Even with lotor it didn’t seem like she wanted to be a family again, but instead was using him for her own unknown motivations. Anyways, the season felt awkward. And the new dynamic they had really needed more time. The last season should’ve expanded to be at least 2 more. It would’ve fit a lot better imo. S1-2 would have zarkon as the main villain, s3-6 would have lotor, and s7-8 would have haggar, who was also the puppeteer throughout the entire show. But she didn’t appear for s7 and her motivations didn’t really make sense in s8 so it evidently felt rushed. There were also so many major characters in s8 we needed more time to see them interact. 

So the ending with allura becoming constellations. Gonna be honest that whole last part had me confused. Especially with the fact that I barely remember what happened, why are the old paladins like trapped in the lions? I could excuse the other 4 but zarkon? Especially a zarkon that’s not corrupted? It was weird and didn’t make a whole lot of sense, and that’s all I’ll say about that. I don’t even want to try to suggest an alternative because I think that whole last half of the season is so messy it can’t be fixed. But it was so obviously pandering to the fandom it hurt. Lance getting those marks was so obviously referencing when people wanted lance to be altean in response to keith’s galra heritage. The shiro/curtis kiss was very “look see he is gay and not just because we said so” while nice, was very weak (why wasn’t keith in the shot?).

Despite my complaints, I remember liking s8. I really liked the addition of the atlas, even though it didn’t feel like we were watching voltron anymore sometimes. S7 had to be one of my favorite episodes since s2. Not to say that s7 is better or worse, but I really like it because it felt like a genre shift. I usually don’t like space sci-fi or mecha stories. Voltron somehow managed to combine the two and make me love it. S7 did not feel like either of those. First, a good half of it took place on earth. And I believe two episodes didn’t even have the main cast, and when team voltron finally made it to earth, voltron wasn’t even there until the final battle. I genuinely loved it. I think it was a very well done invasion/apocalyptic story that doesn’t get told in animation that often. But if I think about s7 with the rest of the show, it was awful. It broke up the tone the show usually had and it was a very different way of storytelling that voltron didn’t have before. It wasn’t a space sci-fi mecha story, it was an apocalyptic action story. Voltron was so unimportant they sat on a moon for episodes. It stopped becoming voltron and started becoming a spin-off. 

I do have to add that I absolutely loved the color themes in s7. We already had purple for the galra, but in s7 it was very obvious that alteans are themed blue and earth is themed with orange. I loved it so much and it was great. I do like that they gave shiro something to do. Honestly not killing him off in s2 made him an awkward character afterwards. But I didn’t like that they brought back sendak. There was no explanation for it and it wasn’t good imo. He didn’t really do anything besides conquer earth then die. Haggar was also absent the entire season which definitely didn’t help her storyline in s8 because we didn’t know what she was doing the entire time except abandoning everyone who was loyal to her. 

I’m usually not a fan of time skips, it has the tendency to gloss over character development or create glossed over recap. Honestly I wish voltron spent more time over the blade of marmora massacre or just the bom in general. They received no rest. Literally everyone part of that group died except for kolivan. Speaking of that episode, there was no explanation for how keith was able to know where macidus was about to appear and that honestly bugs me. There’s so much about keith we don’t know. He has so many abilities we were just never told. 

Again a lot of problems within team voltron is that there was never any follow up on things that happened, like keith leaving the team. He becomes the black paladin and no one bats an eye. Lance did make one comment about keith leaving but then it wasn’t ever mentioned again. I get that the writers/producers wanted the dynamic the original had, but they didn’t take the time to work up to it. Keith wasn’t a natural leader, but he suddenly is because he spent 2 years on a space whale with his mom and a space wolf. Like I mentioned earlier, voltron feels like keith is the main character but then they dropped him for a few episodes, realized that he’s important and added him back in while saying “oh he went through a time skip so he grew into the role he needs to be in now”. It feels like a cheap pay off.

I’d like to specifically talk about my thoughts on each season and work back but honestly I don’t think I can remember s3-6 separately. So they’re being chunked together. 

Lotor had the potential to be a really great villain. But he had to be foiled with keith. They have a lot of similarities that I think could’ve really played off well together. Lotor isn’t really allowed to have a leadership position. Yeah he was technically in charge while zarkon was recovering, but haggar didn’t really allow him full control. But, he was a great leader. He knew how to read his enemies and form an alliance. Meanwhile, keith had a leadership position thrusted to him, and frankly he wasn’t a good leader. He tends to keep to himself so he never really has to make decisions with a team. It could’ve been great, but shiro had to still be in the story. I’m honestly conflicted about this because on the one hand, I think it really ruined character developments for the main cast, but then I loved the clone shiro plot line. I think keeping shiro prevented keith from growing. He was able to remain dependent on shiro instead of actually bonding with the rest of the paladins. And of course he had to just go awol. Also, lance didn’t really get to have as prominent of a role as I think he could’ve had with keith. 

These seasons are also when the lions stopped being sentient robots that specifically choose their paladins to just really cool spaceships. We don’t get that level of bonding that was so prominent in s1 and 2. That’s also something I’m conflicted with. I think the lion swap was a great way for character developments, but it also removed a lot of it. It kinda made the bonding feel useless. The swap also changed the dynamic of the group. Instead of shiro and allura being co-leaders, and everyone else feeling like they’re on equal footing, it felt like Keith was the leader with lance being a needed right-hand man. Hunk and pidge were off doing their thing and allura was a leader but also not. Maybe if they had spent more time working with this dynamic it would’ve felt better. But they didn’t and it didn’t. Voltron also implied that allura was the only one that could control the castle ship, but then she goes to become a paladin and who’s driving the ship?

I do wish we could’ve gotten more about the altean colony and the reveal about lotor’s plans, but that got overshadowed and forgotten by the clone shiro reveal. Maybe I just missed it, but I wasn’t sure what the galra empire and lotor were collecting quintessence for. Was it just to make mechs to rival voltron? Lotor’s death was also very unclear. 

The coalition was a much needed thing, but I think very badly executed. They were gathering people from malls. These people are regular civilians who probably don’t know how to fight or fly a ship. I thought it was really weird that they were just getting regular people (aliens?) to sign up like they’re applying to be part of the army. But we never see them maybe join the rebel force matt is part of to learn how exactly to help. I think about avatar and how they also had a rag tag group of people to fight against the fire nation, but these weren’t just regular people living in a village. They were either warriors or very skilled benders. The voltron coalition was just regular people. That genuinely annoyed me because the voltron show just felt like those army propaganda ads, but exciting. Not to mention it was a very hard to watch episode. 

It was definitely making fun of how the fandom complains about how characters are getting reduced to a certain characteristic. But it wasn’t done in an entertaining way like the ember island players episode from atla because some of those were legit complaints (like hunk being the fat/food guy) and that stuff wasn’t resolved. Like the ember island players made fun of sokka constantly talking about meat or katara crying all the time, but the show made it very clear beforehand that these characters are much more than that. Is hunk really more than the food guy? As far as the show mentions, the only things he’s done was make the machine to help find the blue lion, and help save the balmera. All of which was in season 1. After that hunk honestly took the backseat in voltron.

I mentioned earlier, but the time skip on the space whale felt like we were cheated out of keith’s character development. I mean we got development, but we didn’t get to see it. The vlog short showed that keith believes a lot of his problems stems from not having a mom (and a dad) in his life. But instead of seeing keith learning to trust and open up to people despite having so many people in his life leaving him, we get a cute montage of him with his mom. As if it makes sense that two years with his mom would fix everything. (side note, I know a lot of people were saying how obvious it was that krolia was keith’s mom, I genuinely did not know until she said so at the end of that episode).

I’m not gonna talk about my thoughts on s1 and 2 because I’m pretty sure I live blogged those and honestly I don’t think I remember it. 

CHARACTERS

Now I’m finally talking about the characters and I’m starting off with keith as if I haven’t talked about him enough already. I love keith. He’s undeniably one of my (if not the) favorite characters ever. And he’s obviously a fandom favorite if we’re considering the two biggest ships in the fandom. Or maybe he really is just the secret main character of voltron. We know so much about him, for someone who loves keith, it’s great. We basically know his entire backstory, and yet we know no one else’s (except maybe lotor but even that’s iffy).

I never rewatched a single voltron episode since it ended, and I can’t watch any of the connected shows (meaning shows that have the same ppl that worked on it or the same fans, think dragon prince and she-ra) because the fandom was the absolute worst one I’ve ever been in and parts legit trigger me. I am fascinated with fandoms. I love it. I chose my major because it was the closest I could get to just learning about them 24/7. But the voltron fandom was so incredibly toxic and over two ships? Honestly the fandom itself was a major reason why I couldn’t get super invested in the later seasons. I get afraid when it seems like a certain ship might happen. I actually hoped that certain characters just didn’t interact. (I’m not gonna get much deeper in this because I don’t want to touch this topic with a ten-foot pole, at least not now) Aside from that, I think that the plot and characterizations for voltron got really messy post s2. The lion switch was never handled well imo, and post switch the lions lost that sentient personality that was established in the first two seasons. It also didn’t make sense aside from the writers wanted everyone in the original lions. Or at least, we never got the proper character developments into those roles. Keith left right after becoming the black paladin. 

I think another major problem with the show is how some decisions felt like pandering. I remember hearing that they didn’t kill off shiro because he was a fan favorite, so he had to stay for marketing and to make more money. But then keeping shiro alive would’ve derailed the original plot idea. I wish I could see how the story would’ve played out with shiro staying dead.

Draft 2: rewatched the show then started writing this

So I wrote a draft of this like a year ago, realized I don’t remember the show much, so I rewatched the whole show and started rewriting my thoughts.

Pre-rewatch thoughts: It was a good show that was poorly executed

Mid-rewatch thoughts: it’s a really good show that just has some weak points (the second half of lotor’s arc, team voltron’s importance in season 4-6 it feels like a lot of filler episodes until keith shows up again)

End-rewatch thoughts: it's actually a really good show. It has some weak points and some really strong points. Season 8 was confusing though. I went through most of it going yeah okay I guess that can happen.

Final verdict: it's a genuinely good show

What went wrong

It ended on its weakest season, which was also the most abstract and different season. While the main antagonist changed throughout the seasons, it still continued to be the galra empire. Even when lotor joined, the team was still fighting fractions of the galra empire. Meanwhile, season 8 didn’t have any conflict with the galra. The antagonists were honerva and the alteans, who are very different types of villains compared to the galra. There was also little build up to that change. Sure, we got to experience that briefly in season 3 when they went to the alternate reality, but I don’t think that was built up well. Also, the protagonists and the audience are just not prepared. We don’t know how the alteans work like the extent of their abilities, but we were given dozens of episodes to learn about the galra. As a result season 8 just wound up with me feeling confused and thinking “uhh sure I guess they can do that, that makes sense maybe?”

It could not pick who its protagonist is. Yeah the five humans plus allura (and coran?) are the main characters but most shows with multiple major characters still focus one one character as the protagonist. Like atla has aang, adventure time has finn, umbrella academy has five. Voltron just never picks someone and the group constantly changes too, so you end up having to not focus on any character for the sake of time. Of course not all shows do that. Teen Titans had each season focus on a particular member of the team, and tbh I was wondering if that was what they were planning for the show, especially when season 2 was so Keith focused but guess not.

It feels like they did not have the time to fully flesh out the story. Voltron came and went so incredibly fast. They had 8 seasons (technically 6 if you group up the halved seasons). But also the show only lasted 2 years. It honestly horrifies me to think of the time crunch everyone on the team was going through, especially the animators. You can see the drop in quality as there were very few scenes that involved actual animation for the middle bulk of the show. So then, how much time did they have to develop the story, in addition to execs telling them what they can and can’t do. There’s so many arcs that seemed to start then get forgotten, and I don’t blame the writers for that at all. Although I wish we could’ve learned more about Lance and the Altean sword and Keith with his apparent quintessence sensitivity, they probably just didn’t have the time to plot those out.

It had too much outside influence. Such as, the writers wanting to kill off shiro, but then being forced to keep him on the show because the execs said to. And honestly, the fandom. For example, the whole last episode with Lance getting the Altean marks (an obvious omage to ppl wanting Altean Lance).

What went right

There’s a reason why the show became so popular (aside from being a reboot of a popular 80′s show) and it’s because of the characters. I’m not about the whole “we become attached to characters because the writers did them wrong but we fans can see the potential and that’s why fan works are better” bs that I see going around this site all the time. The first season particularly wrote these characters so well. They’re relatable but also intriguing enough for you to care about what’s going to happen to them. 

Some thoughts regarding popular fandom discussions:

It’s a plot-driven show with character-focused fans

I like to think of there being two ways to tell a story: by being character-focused or plot-driven. Plot driven shows are ones like atla, young justice, legend of korra, etc. There’s a conflict that gets introduced and the story revolves around that conflict. Character-focused shows are ones like adventure time or we bare bears, they’re less concerned about a plot line and focus more on the characters interacting with their world. Of course all stories incorporate both parts, just some focus more on one than the other. So, here’s where I think a lot of the issues about voltron and the fandom comes from. Voltron is a very obviously plot-driven show but the fandom is very character-focused. I won’t deny I loved the episodes about keith. Season 4 and 5 were hard for me to watch because I missed my boy. But that’s where the arguments come from. People get upset that their fav isn’t in the spotlight

It didn’t queerbait

I understand watching a show for representation, I really do, but voltron is not that show and that's okay. Not every show has to be revolutionary in its representation of marginalized people. I won't pretend to know the harmful tropes for marginalized people. My consumption of media is not usually diverse. But I will stand by my stance that a large part of voltron's later seasons is about the casualties of war. So of course a lot of people died. I also firmly believe that the producers had a much easier time adding diversity to their own created characters than the main voltron characters, because of rights and all that complicated nonsense. So as a result the ones who were more expendable and could die were also the same characters that they could add diversity too.

I’m gonna add the definition of queerbait here so we’re all on the same page:  Queerbait is a marketing technique for fiction and entertainment in which creators hint at, but then do not actually depict, same-sex romance or other LGBTQ representation.

But here’s the thing. We were told at comic-con or one of those cons that Shiro is gay, and he had a boyfriend. They actually gave us that. Yeah it wasn’t as explicit as She-ra got, but that’s another point for later. There was no lying about it. Shiro is canonically gay, and his boyfriend was Adam. If anything, this whole thing came out of wanting Keith in a relationship with Shiro or Lance. Yes. I will admit, there are plenty of scenes between Keith and Lance, and Keith and Shiro that can be read as romantic. Someone correct me if I’m wrong but did any of the cast members tease the possibility of Kl//ance or Sh//eith (VAs don’t count, sorry but they don’t really have a say in the story)? Because unless they did, and they did repeatedly, the fandom queerbaited themselves. So many people in the fandom were so certain that Keith would be in a relationship with one of them, there was basically an all out war. Even if there was a chance, did you really think the creators (who were pretty active in early fandom days) would continue that development? It was so so toxic they were forced to shut off any possibilities of that.

In regards to minority characters

Again, I'll admit vld is not the place to go for real, proper representation. Their characters tend to be characters that happen to be a part of a minority rather than a minority character. wtf does that mean? Well, you can swap (earth) races for just about any character and it wouldn't make too much of a difference in how they act. There's some lines that wouldn't work like Lance's "I'm just a boy from Cuba" but other than that there would be no significant change. Of course this goes down to preference. Would you want a minority character whose struggles reflect those in real life and as a result be defined by that aspect of themselves, or do you want a character that just happens to be a part of a minority group but whose life is not really affected by that? 

Draft 3: months after the rewatch, mostly an attempt to reorganize the previous two drafts

I’m gonna start with the negatives just to get the ranting off my chest. Season 8 was bad. Yeah. No argument there. Although I wouldn’t say it was bad in the same way Game of Thrones and Supernatural was bad. Rather, it was an interesting and complex premise that didn’t have the build up it needed and honestly needed a few more passthroughs to iron out some parts. At worse, I felt it was confusing to the point where I just accepted whatever new worldbuilding thing they threw at me. The issue with Season 8 vs Seasons 1-7 is that Season 8 had a completely different villain, and a brand new cast dynamic. We got 7 seasons (65 episodes) developing the Galra as the villain. We got to learn who they are, their motives, how they operate, etc. Not only that, but they were pretty basic and easy to understand villains. They’re conquerors. They don’t have any sort of magic, they really just use brute force to attack and enslave the planets. In striking contrast, the Alteans in Season 8 weren’t conquerors. They didn’t care about controlling the universe. They also had magic abilities that our main characters don’t understand and didn’t explore. Season 8 had villains who could create illusions, mind control, and manipulate quintessence. The Alteans are leagues beyond the Galra in terms of complexities as an antagonist, but they didn’t get nearly enough time to be fully developed.

Also, Season 8 essentially doubled the cast size. So despite the fact that we have yet to see much of Keith-as-the-black-paladin Voltron group dynamic, now that screentime is being balanced with the MFE pilots and other Garrison characters. Essentially, there were too many characters, and too little time to flesh out the ideas of this season. A side note, Haggar’s (Honerva?) motivations were lame. I think it would’ve been much more interesting if her plans were just to continue the research she did 10,000 years ago with the rift. That would’ve also brought back the rift monsters which we never got an answer for. What even are they? Instead, her goal to have a family again is really weak. Even in the flashbacks she never showed any care for the more familial aspects of her life. It didn’t make sense for that to be her drive. It also didn’t help that Season 8 came out on like the same day as Spiderverse and the antagonists for both had the same goal, but Spiderverse did an immensely better job.

Another thing that didn’t make sense to me was Keith giving the speech to the rest of the Galra. He is not the right character to give that speech. Sure he’s Galra, but he didn’t even know for most of his life. For him to say “we” like he’s also a citizen of the Galra empire feels so weird. He never grew up with the Empire’s influence, and we never saw him experiencing Galra culture with the Blade. He learned about the Galra as an outsider, and despite the fact that he’s part Galra (he doesn’t even remotely look Galra), I don’t think that gives him the authority to say a speech like that. The speech is similar to Zuko’s at the end of ATLA, and that makes me feel like it would’ve been a lot better had Lotor said it. I think even Kolivan would’ve been a better fit than Keith. 

The more I’m writing about Season 8, the more I’m remembering just how messy and confusing it was. Additionally, the last bit of Season 8 was so obviously pandering to the fandom it gives me second-hand embarrassment. Lance getting those marks was so obviously referencing when people wanted Lance to be Altean in response to Keith's galra heritage. The Shiro getting married was just to make it more obvious that he’s gay, but had no build up. (There were definitely more but I didn’t write myself a list and I’m not rewatching that season)

Second, “Voltron queerbaited”. [this was posted before here]

Speaking of which, Voltron premiered summer of 2016 and ended in winter of 2018. That’s about 2 and a half years where they aired 78 episodes. That’s stupid fast, especially for an animated series. I’m constantly worried about what the people working on that show had to endure. For sure, Season 3 with Shiro coming back wasn’t written until at least Season 1. I recalled the execs demanding that Shiro not be dead since he was a popular character. It’s honestly concerning how little time they had to work on the show, and it unfortunately showed. In the later seasons, a lot of the shots were just still frames that moved across the scene. And the plot line with Lotor could’ve used some work. Although, I think Shiro being forced in there was also a reason for it being so shaky.

I honestly hate Seasons 4 & 5. I cannot tell you what happened because my brain keeps erasing it. Obviously, the lack of Keith had a huge impact on my opinion of those seasons, but it also felt like a whole lot of filler episodes, and not the fun ones with character development. With Keith mostly out of the picture, and Lance becoming the right hand of Voltron, that should’ve been a great time to develop Lance to become a second-in-command. To have him go through an arc where he overcomes his insecurities. It would’ve also been an amazing time to develop his and Shiro’s relationship. But we didn’t get any of that. 

I genuinely believe Keith was supposed to stay the black paladin and Shiro wasn’t supposed to come back. Keith would be an amazing foil to Lotor. They’re both half-Galra. They’ve both been given a new leadership role that they don’t want. The middle arc always felt so weak to me, and as I mentioned earlier, the Allura/Lotor interactions were awkward. It feels shoehorned in because someone has to interact with Lotor and I guess the writers decided Allura was the best option?

Season 3-6 felt like the epitome of what happens when showrunners are forced to do whatever the execs say and have no time to properly develop their story. I’ll forever be bitter at all the character and relationship development we lost because of that. We never got to see Keith really learn to open up to the team and start to trust others. But Keith still had to get to that point, which is why I assume they had the time jump for him. It’s so disappointing because we lost what could’ve been a great character development. It also made Keith being the Black Paladin again feel cheap. We didn’t get to see the struggle he had to be the leader Shiro saw he could be. He was just suddenly leading them and they worked like a proper team.

Voltron also had a lot of plot holes. Now, I don’t expect shows to answer every question, because it’s impossible to tie everything up and leave no questions unanswered in a natural way. But, there’s a lot of things that felt like the beginning of a plot line or honestly needed some answers. Like, Lance shifting his bayard to a sword. What was the point of that if it was never mentioned again? It felt like that was an important start to an arc for him that just got forgotten. Also, what was up with Keith’s quintessence sensitivity? How was he able to sense where that druid was. How did he know he could summon his bayard to him. I think the part that bugged me the most was that Keith was the only one who did that. Also, Keith’s eyes becoming slitted during his fight with Kuron was never addressed, and I really wish it was. It felt like such a throwaway moment that could’ve been interesting to explore more. Although I’m not too upset with that one as I think we were given enough to piece together a reason for it. 

[anything4our-moony]

By the Water Fountain

Pairing: Draco x Harry

Word count: 4.6k

Rating: T, mild language

Warnings: mention of excess drinking

Prompt/Summary: from @lxncelot‘s 100 dialogue prompts:

8- “Keep talking, I want to fall asleep to your voice.”

43- “Why didn’t you tell me?”

68- “But I’ve never told you that before.”

This is my first time posting a oneshot on this blog; I hope you all enjoy! <3

•••

Harry honestly didn’t drink very often. 

He would occasionally have a beer with friends at dinner or a glass of firewhisky on special occasions. He was typically the designated sober friend when Seamus and Ron wanted to get drunk and sing karaoke in muggle bars, ensuring that they made it safely to their homes at the end of the night. He didn’t mind; he loved seeing his friends happy. 

But after the day Harry had, he welcomed the blurred around the edges effect that crept into his vision as he downed his 4th drink at a local pub, and it was all because of Draco Bloody Malfoy. 

Harry and Draco’s paths began to cross quite frequently, Harry working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Draco being the healer to patch up his wounds when his Gryffindor heart outweighed his rational brain and got him into dangerous situations. The fifth time Harry ended up at St. Mungo’s, Draco simply shook his head and muttered, “We have got to stop meeting like this, Potter.” 

After getting over the initial awkwardness of ‘used to be enemies but are now grown adults with bigger issues’, they started to form an almost friendship. They both frequented a small, family owned Middle Eastern restaurant on their lunch breaks that was nearby the hospital, and after running into each other one two many times, decided to start sitting and eating together. “Because there’s no need to give the staff double the work, Potter.” Draco had scoffed when Harry had raised an eyebrow at his suggested arrangement. But he never complained. 

Harry sat on the stiff, wooden barstool, stirring his drink mindlessly and staring at the glistening ice cubes, possibly hoping they had advice for him, when he heard a familiar voice behind him. 

“This seat taken?” Ron Weasley sat down next to Harry and gestured to the bartender. “Can I get a pint of whatever you have on draft?” He turned to look Harry up and down. “You look like hell.” 

Harry raised his glass a bit and mutter “Cheers, mate.” 

Ron snorted. “Who is he and what’s he done to make the great Harry Potter run away to a bar to get plastered alone?” 

When Harry first “came out” to his friends, Ron was the first to accept it. He had a conversation with all of their male friends and told them if they ever said anything cross to Harry about it, he’d hex their bollocks off. He was so grateful for Ron’s unwavering loyalty. 

“How do you know it’s a bloke that’s got me gutted?” Harry replied, still staring down at his drink. 

“Please.” Ron scoffed. “You’ve been staring at that drink like it might lay you on a couch and start giving you relationship advice.” He took a swig of his drink and added “Plus I’ve known you since you were eleven, mate. You’re not as mysterious and hard to read as you think.”

That made Harry laugh and then groan. He put his head in his hands. “Ron. I think that I might fancy someone.” 

Ron looked startled, but replied, “Harry that’s great! Anyone I know?” 

Harry moaned into his hands and hesitated but finally answered. “I think...I think I fancy Draco Malfoy.” 

Harry hadn’t come to this realization quickly. Obviously he knew he was into blokes, but he never really considered anyone he was already acquainted with as an option. His small dating pool consisted of first dates with internet matches and set ups with friends of friends whose only similarity to Harry was their mutual queerness. 

But Draco was...well, Draco. He would insult and tease you to your wits end, but was fiercely protective of the people he loved being their backs. He was outwardly cocky and arrogant, but when Draco sat next to Harry’s bed at St. Mungo’s chatting with him hours after his shift ended, he would confide in Harry all the ways he was immensely unsure of himself. He confessed how frightened he was that someday he wouldn’t be allowed to continue his work because the wrong person wouldn’t want an “Ex Death Eater” saving their life. He admitted that he had been utterly terrified during the war; that he wandered out early on, but had no idea how to get out without risking his and his parents’ lives. He even thanked Harry for the time he saved him in the room of requirement. 

“I never showed you even an ounce of kindness, yet you risked your life just to save me. I didn’t know anyone could be that selfless.” 

Even after all that, Harry still hadn’t put a name to what he was feeling for Draco. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was until that morning; the morning that caused him to end up in the pub in the first place. 

Harry met Draco for lunch at their usual spot. They were talking about the recent Quidditch match that they had both read about in the Daily Prophet. 

“I don’t know why the Harpies don’t just go ahead and make Ginevra the starting seeker. She’s not doing any good on the bench, and she can fly circles around that Malcolm chap.” He sipped his coffee and continued, “I bet she could even give you a run for your money.” 

Harry laughed and took a bite of his falafel. “She could definitely kick my arse at this stage in my life. I haven’t been on a broomstick since the last time I tried to give Rose Weasley a flying lesson, and I think even she was better than me by the end of the day.” Draco flashed an easy smile at him.

They paid for their food and began to walk towards the hospital. There had been a misfired jinx at Harry’s work, resulting in all of the plumbing pouring out fruit pastilles instead of water. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal to him, but he was glad to have the rest of the day off regardless. 

They walked in comfortable silence for a bit. The restaurant hadn’t been busy, so Draco had a few minutes to spare before he needed to return to his shift. They decided to take a seat on the edge of an old fountain in the middle of the square. 

Draco looked at the water and laughed light heartedly. “Muggles are so odd. Why would anyone throw money into the water just to watch it sink? Do they know that it’s useless down there?” 

Harry couldn’t help but smile. “It’s a superstitious tradition. You throw the money in and make a wish, and it’s supposed to come true. I’m not really sure why, though. Maybe because you made some odd kind of offering to the god of water fountains.” Draco pursed his lips and considered this. 

“Here.” Harry said and reached into his pocket and pulled out two sickles. He handed one to Draco and closed his eyes. “I wish that the pipes get filled with candy at work more often so I can spend more time with my dear friend Draco.” He threw the coin over his shoulder, and it 

splashed into the water. Draco smiled. He stared at the coin in his hand for a long moment, and just as Harry was about to open his mouth and say something, he closed his eyes and closed his hand around the coin. 

“I wish that the world will someday see me for the good things I do in the present and will do in the future rather than the bad things I did in my past.” He tossed the coin over his shoulder and opened his eyes. 

Harry stared into the grey eyes he had lately been becoming more and more familiar with. There was a hint of sadness there, but also a look of steadfast finality. He knew that Draco would continue to try and pay for his mistakes time and time again, whether through healing those who needed him or reinventing himself into the kindhearted, compassionate individual he was today. A gust of wind suddenly blew his platinum blonde hair into his face, and without thinking, Harry reached up and gently pushed it out of the way, revealing his grey eyes once again. Draco stiffened, and Harry dropped his hand and looked away. After a too long pause, Draco cleared his throat. 

“I’ll- I better go inside, then.” He stood and brushed off the back of his trousers. Harry, carefully avoiding his eyes, nodded and stood as well. They both murmured awkward goodbyes and went their separate ways. 

•••

Harry rested his elbows on the sticky bar top and groaned again. He fancied Draco Malfoy, and now he wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover. 

Ron spluttered a bit, then finally said, “Well, it could be worse. At least he’s pretty attractive.” 

Harry shifted his gaze towards his friend, frowning. “Yes I’m quite aware of that, thanks.” He sighed. “I think I just need to have a few more drinks about it.” 

Ron smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder. Suddenly, his phone chimed, causing Ron to jump. He was still having trouble getting used to muggle technology. 

He frowned. “Uh oh. ‘Mione says baby Hugo’s got a stomach bug. I better get home and relieve her for a bit.” He stood up and said pointedly to Harry, “It’s not the end of the world, mate. If you think it’ll work, ask him out. If you don’t-“ he shrugged “I guess you’re on the right track.” He gestured towards Harry’s empty glass. “Listen, don’t try and apparate in your condition. Get a cab or something, and call me if you need anything.” Harry grunted a response, not knowing if he could say anything coherent in his state. Ron patted his shoulder again, then turned and headed out the door. 

Harry sighed, then asked the bartender for another drink. 

After a while, the crowd in the pub began to dwindle down, and Harry realized he should probably make the trek home. He stood up and saw stars and knew Ron was right; he definitely could not apparate like this, unless he wanted half of him to end up in the Pacific Ocean. But there was one problem- Harry didn’t have any muggle money for a cab, and he was too drunk to remember what to do in this situation. He remembered Ron’s offer and picked up his phone and went to his recent calls. He was about to choose Ron’s contact when he saw another name. 

‘Malfoy’ with a green snake emoji. 

Harry giggled and grinned, and thought ‘what the hell?’ He stepped outside and clicked the call button. 

It rang one and a half times, and a gravelly voice grumbled, “Potter? What the hell are you doing, do you know what time it is?” 

Harry snorted and replied, “Yes Draco, I do know how to read.” He giggled. “Just because I’m not in Ravenclaw doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” 

There was a short pause, and Draco remarked, “Are you drunk?” 

“Hmm”, Harry mused happily, and said, “Extremely.”

Draco let out an exasperated sigh, and there was a shuffle of movement on the other line. “Where are you?” He demanded. 

Harry looked and his vision swam. “Um. London?” He heard Draco inhale and start to say something, but quickly continued. “I’m just kidding, hah. There’s a street sign, but I don’t know what it says. Maybe I can’t read...” he trailed off. Then he spotted a familiar sculpture in front of a small park, and he perked up. “Oh! I see my statue!” He narrowed his eyes at the golden replica of him that had been placed there not too long ago. “It’s really embarrassing that they put that here. And I don’t think I’m actually that tall.” 

Draco sighed again, and said, “Potter. I’ll be there in approximately 4 seconds. Please try not to die.” The line went dead, and Harry heard the *crack* of someone apparating next to him. 

Put together, ready for the day Draco was already a sight to see; his pure blood upbringing instilled a need to constantly look flawless, no wrinkles or hairs out of place. He had immaculate posture, and one could tell by merely looking at him that he was someone important. But rumpled, hair perfectly messy, fresh out of bed blinking sleep from his eyes Draco? Well. 

He was so beautiful Harry could cry. 

“Hi.” Harry grinned drunkenly at him. Draco pursed his lips, looking equally amused and annoyed at the same time. 

He murmured a simple, “Hello.” 

Harry stared at his face, so gorgeously illuminated in the moonlight, sharp edges softened by the glow. Even in his drunken state, he wondered how he missed this; how he hadn’t recognized the burning need to stroke his ivory skin, run his fingers over his sharp nose, his lips... 

Harry shook his head and sighed. “I’m drunk.” 

Draco’s mouth turned up slightly at the corner, and he simply replied, “Quite.” He turned to look around. “We can side along apparate as long as you don’t try to do it yourself. Otherwise we’ll both end up splinched between here and Merlin knows where.” Draco put one arm around Harry’s waist and the other firmly on his bicep so they were chest to chest, while Harry tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. 

Draco looked at him softly, expression unreadable, and asked, “Are you ready?” Harry swallowed and nodded, trying to ignore how close their faces were. Harry closed his eyes and hoped he didn’t vomit as the familiar feeling pulled at his stomach and the air swirled around him.

Just as quickly as it had started, everything suddenly stilled. “Harry.” Draco whispered. Harry opened his eyes to see Draco staring at him intently, with the same soft and confusing look as earlier. “Come on, I’ll help you up the stairs.” 

Harry vaguely noticed that he didn’t quite recognize where they were, but he was focusing most of his attention on breathing steadily. He was extremely aware that Draco kept a firm hand on Harry’s waist as they walked up the stairs to a quaint little townhouse. Draco unlocked the door with the key and quietly let Harry inside. 

At this point, Harry could feel his eyes starting to close on their own and his legs start to grow weak from exhaustion. Luckily, Draco led Harry to a bedroom with a beautiful wooden four poster bed. He sat down on the edge and rubbed his temples while Draco rummaged through a dresser. He pulled out a shirt and a pair of sleep pants and handed them to Harry. 

“I’ll run and get you a glass of water.” He patted the top of Harry’s head before exiting the room and closing the door behind him. Harry quickly changed out of his stiff work clothes into the more comfortable ones Draco had leant him. He ran a hand through his unruly curls and moved to lay down. Draco came back with a glass of water and a small vial. 

“Take this in the morning. It’ll help a bit.” Draco smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed and shook his head. “I never thought I’d have to be the one to rescue Harry Potter from a drunken escapade.” 

Harry snorted sleepily. “I’m usually not one to drown my sorrows, but there’s a first time for everything.” 

Draco pressed his mouth into a hard line and retorted, “Who’s the lucky girl that got to break The Chosen One’s heart?” 

Harry just stared at him confused for a moment, before blurting out, “I’m gay.” Draco raised an eyebrow, and he continued, “Like, really really gay.” 

Draco once again got that unreadable expression on his face, but his shoulders relaxed a little bit. “Well, I hope whoever had you ‘drowning your sorrows’, as you so eloquently put it, is worth it.” He started to stand up, but Harry clumsily grabbed for his hand. 

“Wait no.” He frowned. “Keep talking, I want to fall asleep to the sound of your voice.” Draco’s face reddened (and Harry was way too drunk to consider what that meant), but nodded and sat back down. 

“What would you like me to talk about, then?” Harry closed his eyes and relaxed. “Tell me more about your wish. At the fountain.”

He heard Draco’s breathing, not slow and even, but not panting either. Harry was vaguely aware that he was still clutching Draco’s hand. “I know that there’s no excuse for my actions. I’m well aware that I hurt more people than I can even begin to understand,” he hesitated, “but I hope someday I’ll be remembered as someone who eventually started to help rather than hurt.” 

Harry wanted to keep listening, wanted Draco to talk to him until his voice gave out, but exhaustion was slowly taking over. He softly squeezed Draco’s hand and murmured, “I’ll always know that. I’ll remember.” 

As Harry drifted off to sleep, Draco whispered, “Thank you, Harry.” 

••• 

Harry woke up the next morning feeling as though he had been repeatedly run over by the knight bus. He groaned and sat up. With a start, he realized he was not in his bedroom. He looked around the light grey room as the events of the night before came flooding back to him. “Oh Merlin.” He moaned and put his head in his hands. 

“No, sorry, just me.” Draco smiled as he walked through the door. He set a mug of steaming tea next to Harry and said, “Three sugars and a pinch of cinnamon.” Harry looked up at him, squinting a bit as his eyes adjusted to the light. 

“You know how I like my tea.” He stated blatantly. “But I’ve never told you that before.” Draco looked away, embarrassed. 

“I’ve eaten lunch with you almost every day for the past four months, Potter. It’s an insult to my intelligence that you think I’m that unobservant.” There was no malice in his voice, only light hearted teasing. He looked at the bedside table and handed Harry his glasses and the vial he placed there the night before. “This won’t cure a hangover, but it’ll make it a hell of a lot more bearable.” 

Harry mumbled a thanks and slid his glasses onto his face. He downed the potion in one gulp and grimaced. Draco laughed at whatever face Harry was making. He grumbled, “Remind me never to go near alcohol again.” 

“Duly noted.” Draco said with another grin. “Come one them, I’ll make breakfast.” 

Harry walked into the living room and noticed the blanket and pillow laid on the couch. “You slept on the sofa?” Harry asked. 

Draco shrugged. “My bed was a bit occupied for the night.” 

“I would have shared.” Harry replied without thinking. Draco looked away and busied himself in the kitchen.

What on Earth was wrong with him, Harry wondered idly. Draco apparently had the uncanny ability to make Harry say whatever was on his mind, both drunk and hungover it seemed. Draco started to hum to himself while he buttered bread, and Harry walked over and sat himself on the counter and allowed himself to really stare. 

Draco was in the same rumpled shirt and sleep pants he had been wearing when he rescued Harry from the streets of London the night before. His hair was a bit flattened in the back from his pillow, and he had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Harry let himself daydream about 

getting to witness this every morning; waking up to Draco, looking like a slightly disheveled Adonis, making Harry breakfast. His heart yearned for the domesticity of it all. 

He didn’t realize he’d been caught staring until he looked up and his eyes met Draco’s. His cheeks warmed and he but his lip, embarrassed, but didn’t look away. He tapped his fingers on the counter anxiously. Draco stared at him for a moment longer then looked away, continuing his cooking. “Are cheese toasties alright? I always like a bit of comfort food when I’m hungover.” Draco smiled at him, a small but still dazzling smile. 

“You don’t have to do that for me, I’m fine with anything, really.” He looked down at his fingers still tapping the counter. 

Suddenly Draco’s hand covered his, halting his anxious tapping. “A bit restless, are we?” he teased softly. Harry looked up, about to respond, and realized Draco’s face was mere inches away from his own. He wasn’t sure if it was the leftover alcohol in his system or if it was his stupid, reckless Gryffindor heart, but something in him made him suddenly close the distance between them to kiss him. 

As soon as he did it, he regretted it and pulled away. He leaped down from the counter and stumbled away towards the living room. 

“I’m- er, sorry, I’ll just...” he stuttered. “I’m going to go.” 

Draco reached an arm out to him. “Harry, wait-“ 

“Thank you for, um, all this. I-“, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “See you later.” 

He quickly disapparated, leaving Draco standing in the kitchen looking confused, his arm still extended towards Harry. 

••• 

Harry hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch since he had arrived in his flat 3 hours earlier. He laid on his back with his arm flung over his eyes, his head still pounding from the hangover and his mortifying actions in Draco’s kitchen. His heart sank every time he thought about it. The

truth was, even before Harry’s discovery of his more than friendly feelings towards Draco, he’d cherished their relationship. Ron and Hermione were great friends, but they were everything to each other and often were lost in their own bubble, which was something Harry couldn’t and didn’t want to compete with. His relationship with Draco was something Harry had all to himself. It was effortless and easy, and he found himself looking forward to any time they spent together. He knew he’d ruined everything, and he was already grieving the loss of their friendship. 

There was a soft knock on his door. He groaned. A local football team had been going door to door selling magazines to raise money for some kind of tournament for the past week. He got up and slowly walked to the door. As he opened it he said, “Look guys, I already bought a subscription last week, I’m really not interested in-“. He looked up. 

Draco stood in the doorway with a tentative smile plastered on his face. He held up a brown paper sack and said, “You left without your breakfast.” Harry blinked at him, not processing what was going on. “Er-“, Draco rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, “can I come in?” 

Harry blinked and nodded, stepping out of the way. Draco walked to the sofa and sat down. He looked back at Harry, who was still standing by the doorway looking flabbergasted, and gestured towards the empty seat next to him. Harry swallowed and slowly walked to the couch, sitting as far away from Draco as the tiny love seat allowed. 

They were both silent for a moment. Harry started to tap his fingers anxiously on the cushions, but he remembered what had happened the last time he had done that near Draco and decided to put his hands in his lap instead. 

Draco finally broke the silence by saying, “Do you remember Blaise Zabini?” 

Harry pursed his lips at the odd question but answered, “Of course. He works over at Gringotts now, right?” 

Draco nodded and continued, “He and I had a sort of fling in our fifth year. Very casual, very secret, but still very real.” 

Harry stared at him blankly until realization dawned on him. “So...you’re saying that you’re-“. 

“‘Like, really really gay’ as you so eloquently put it last night.” Draco smirked at him, and Harry gave him a tentative smile in return. Draco nonchalantly slid his knee closer to Harry’s and looked at him until he finally met his eyes. 

“And”, he began, ”I think that I’d like to give you a proper kiss, if that’s alright with you.” 

Harry swallowed loudly but managed to say, “I’d like that very much.” Draco smiled and slowly raised his hand to stroke Harry’s cheek. He moved towards him painfully slow, and Harry closed

his eyes and exhaled, parting his lips in a slight ‘o’ shape. Draco closed the last few inches between them and pressed their lips together. 

Draco’s lips were soft and warm as they moved slowly against his own. Harry slid a bit closer and placed one hand on Draco’s knee and the other at the nape of his neck, twisting his fingers in his hair and deepening their kiss. Draco slowly slid his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip and let out a soft moan. Harry, in a moment of blind confidence moved his hands to Draco’s thighs and pulled him onto his lap, never breaking their kiss. He felt Draco skim his teeth along Harry’s lip as Harry slid his hands underneath Draco’s shirt, resting on his hips and gently tracing circles on his bare skin. Draco moved his hands into Harry’s hair and tugged gently, making him gasp and accidentally breaking their lips’ embrace. Draco pressed their foreheads together, eyes still closed and trying to catch their breath. Harry opened his eyes and silently traced his fingers across Draco’s facial features like he had longed to do last night. Draco leaned into Harry’s palm, still straddling him with his hands tangled in Harry’s ebony hair. 

Harry was the one to eventually break their silence. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Draco quirked up an eyebrow. “You mean why didn’t I tell you that I’m gay, or why didn’t I tell you that I’ve wanted to snog the hell out of you since I was fifteen? Either way, it’s not something that just easily comes up in conversation, Potter.” He rolled his eyes but stroked his thumb against Harry’s face. 

“Well you could’ve told me either way. I-“, Harry stopped. “Wait. Did you say fifteen?” 

Draco but his lip. “I was a prat, I know. But I didn’t know how else to cope with falling for my sworn enemy. Very un-Slytherin of me.” Draco shifted so he was now sitting next to Harry with his legs stretched out across his lap. He held Harry’s hand in both of his and gently stroked his long fingers. “How long have-“, Draco stumbled, “Er-, when did you, um, realize?” 

Harry laughed quietly. “Well I’ve known I was gay since I was 17. But I only discovered my feelings for you-“, Harry put his hand under Draco’s chin and pulled his face up to look at him, “less than 24 hours ago.” Draco’s face was so comical he couldn’t help but laugh. “I knew I felt something for you; a tug in my stomach perhaps. But I only put a name to it yesterday. You know, drowning my sorrows and that whole bit.” Harry paused, watching Draco’s face, then continued, “And I think you are, by the way.” 

Draco looked at him questioningly. “Are what?” 

Harry smiled a crooked smile at him and replied, “You said you hoped whoever I was drinking about was worth it.” He pushed Draco’s hair out of his eyes like he had only yesterday at the fountain. “And I definitely think you are.”

Draco sighed. “Bloody Gryffindor’s. Ridiculous romantics, the lot of you.” But he beamed at him and pulled Harry in to kiss him again before saying, “Harry Potter, you have the most brilliant soul I have ever had the privilege of encountering.” 

Harry grinned and pushed him down on his back into the sofa and moved to hover over him. “Now who’s the romantic?” Harry stared into those granite grey eyes and smiled before kissing him once again.

•••

If you made it this far, thank you so so much for reading my fic! Please feel free to reply or message me with what you thought, any comments of suggestions for my writing, etc.! <3

[nrth-wind-a]

Hidden, designer au skraelroc but Bellroc is the one to iniate

Kiss Meme // No Longer Accepting // Well... This was supposed to be between 100-500 words but it... is not. I hope you still enjoy nonetheless! // Thank you for this very compelling ask! It was extremely fun to write! --

Coffee. It was only coffee. He could do… coffee. Sitting together, pointedly across from each other, with a cup to place between them was a degree of separation that Skrael could handle.

Sweetening the deal was that it was entirely professional. There was no reason to cross into the territory that they had an unshakeable habit of crossing into, the way they clashed words as fencers did blades.

It was supposed to be easy. A simple discussion of particular business matters, and then they’d be on their separate paths again.

Bellroc slid into the chair across from Skrael, looking, unfortunately, incredible.

He frowned, “I’m fairly certain that I requested you be subtle.”

Bellroc’s grin was positively vicious, “Then you should have taken your own advice.”

Skrael rolled his eyes. “You are in bright red.”

“And a vision, I’m sure.” They smirked. “But we have business to attend to, Skrael. Focus.”

It was only coffee… it was only coffee…

Skrael took a deep breath, bit down on what he’d wanted to say, and did indeed focus up. He reached into his backpack for a manilla folder that felt more like he’d been carrying certain doom on his back, than what its contents really were.

With a gentle push, the thing sat between them, and it felt stark; a fresh morning pot of coffee, the blazing tail of roman candle firework.

“That’s them, then?” Bellroc hummed, staring at the folder.

It was odd how inconspicuous it looked; how utterly unremarkable it was in impression.

“The drafts, at least.” He said, taking a careful sip of coffee, to hide the twitch at his lips that threatened an anticipatory smile.

Merlin be damned, he felt that these designs were good. They were unfinished, but… well. There was a reason he was passing them on to Bellroc, now, wasn’t there?

It happened as Bellroc accepted the folder and began to put it into their own bag.

Skrael caught someone staring.

Now, someone staring wasn’t necessarily an issue in and of itself—even if their faces weren’t recognized, the two of them looked good, and he knew it; he knew people on the street knew it. They weren’t exactly wading through interested strangers, but they certainly could turn a few heads on occasion.

No, it was the notable lack of embarrassment when they were caught. The glint in their eyes that felt like a bird of prey’s. The pen being juggled between two fingers. These were all enough to raise suspicion.

The truly damning piece, however, was the portable recorder attached to their hip.

Skrael’s next movements were carefully calculated.

He slid his eyes casually out the window, acting as if his accidental eye contact with the journalist had hardly fazed him; the last thing they needed was the reporter realizing they’d been smoked out.

Because Skrael was also fairly certain—by the look on the person’s face—that they were still trying to parse out if they really were sitting in the same café as two nationally-recognized designers, or if the pair of them were lookalikes. Which meant that he needed—

“Do not turn around.” He said softly, over his coffee cup. “If you do, we’ll be caught by the press. No offense, but you rather have a… recognizable look.” He said, tapping his finger to his temple to indicate their sunglasses.

They scowled, “As if you don’t, Mrs. Elizabeth Bennet?”

He blinked. …They had an unfairly good point.

After a moment’s deliberation, he sighed, tucked his hands under the table, and slipped off his gloves, immediately feeling underdressed.

Bellroc’s face was woven in surprise. Their eyes lingered a little too long on Skrael’s fingers—long, bony, almost ethereal—before they snapped themselves from their stupor and reached to do the same with their glasses.

Skrael held up a hand—still hating how exposed something so simple as not wearing gloves could make him feel— to stop them. “No. You need those to see, and we need two pairs of eyes on lookout.”

They were taken aback a second time, which gave them no small amount of irritation, that Skrael could do that to them so easily. They mumbled, “How did you know that?”

Skrael’s answer was disarmingly honest, given that he was too distracted to consider lying, “You’ve always hated contacts.” He said casually, eyes trained on the journalist, who was staring at their phone, likely looking for anything that could prove their hunch about the designers to be true.

“We have to hurry.” Skrael continued. “We’re close to being recognized.”

Bellroc looked as if they were considering something, but evidently chose not to share, as they stood sharply, causing Skrael to do the same.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the reporter noticed their active departure, and, while they were trying to be subtle, they did begin to pack up as well.

Skrael grimaced, tucking his hair underneath his coat to obscure its length, “The jig might be up…”

Bellroc paused, then, and the fire in their eyes made Skrael do the same.

“Do you trust me?” They asked suddenly.

Skrael blinked. He glanced to the reporter—still packing up—and then back to Bellroc. “Wh- In what context?”

They huffed, “Skrael, we don’t have time to get into the technicalities; do you trust me?”

Skrael paused for only one moment longer. “…I trust that you have an idea that will get us out of this without ending up on the front-page news.”

It wasn’t the answer they’d expected—a resounding ‘no’ would have been the most predictable—but it was –

“Good enough.” They said, voice low, nearing a growl, as they took his hand—oh…—and dragged him outside.

The reporter was not far behind, and Bellroc knew they had to sell this.

There was one thing that the pair of them were most known for, in junction with the other, according to the public. Their absolute and utter distaste for the other was not obscured, and in fact, encouraged, even; it made staying away from the other easier.

So, if they were to prove that they were supposedly not themselves…

Thank god the alley’s empty, they thought, as they tugged Skrael into it, and, with little warning, pressed him up against the wall of the coffee shop they’d just exited from.

Skrael hated to admit that he caught onto their line of thinking nearly as soon as his back met brick. It was rare when it happened, but even now, that he could—in the important moments—practically read their mind, gave him a painful twinge that came from memory of the past.

Lucky for him, his mind was evacuated as soon as Bellroc’s face was the only thing he could see. They gave him one last chance to say no.

They breathed a quiet, “May I?” and Skrael’s eyes nearly slipped closed from that alone. The tone in their voice, the way they were crowding his space, and the way he didn’t even have it in him to mind—

He didn’t take it.

“Yes…”

Bellrocs’ lips were soft, and the pressure was simultaneously too much and not nearly enough. They’d opted, perhaps thinking themself merciful, for a gentle, sweet thing. Skrael appreciated the gesture, but they needed to properly deter anyone from trying to disturb them. He reached up with both hands, sliding them up the sides of Bellroc’s face to slip their glasses off. He could feel their hesitation, rather than see it, by the way the kiss stuttered.

They started to pull back, but Skrael wrapped his arms around their neck, glasses still in one hand, and he mumbled against their lips, “Not enough. Too easy to interrupt.”

They did manage to lean back enough to shoot him a skeptical look, but he grinned, reached down, placed their glasses in the inside pocket of their coat—one hand still pointedly holding the back of their neck—and said, “Don’t you trust me?”

He was challenging them.

…Hm. Fine.

They didn’t give him time to prepare, then, as they gripped his hips and leaned back in, and oh the cropped shirt had turned out to be a very bad idea, Skrael thought, as he could feel their thumbs almost absentmindedly rubbing the exposing skin there.

He suppressed a shiver and moved to press closer to them, trapping their bottom lip between his own. As much as he was trying not to enjoy this—it was purely professional, he insisted—he couldn’t help but wonder why they’d never done this before. If it was this…

Footsteps approached the alley, paused for half a second.

He turned his head so that the reporter would only be greeted by the back of his—a move to ensure that Bellroc’s lack of sunglasses was visible and that no distinct facial features could be made out—and reached to cling to Bellroc’s coat with both of his hands.

The footfalls sounded almost like running.

Good, Skrael thought. Maybe they’d think twice about following strangers—even famous ones—again.

But, now that the reporter was gone, the fact that Bellroc hadn’t yet pulled away was now—… it felt different.

He regretted it even as he did it, but he sighed against their mouth and ended the kiss.

Their breaths wove together. “I think…” Skrael grinned, “I think they’re gone.”

Bellroc’s eyes held a look that Skrael had never seen before. “Yes…”

A horribly awkward silence settled in the minimal distance between them, calling their attention to just that. Skrael noticed, then, and quickly let go of Bellroc, stepping back— only to be greeted with brick. Right.

Bellroc looked flushed as they, too, stepped away, royally embarrassed. “Ah… Thank you—” they flinched at their words, “For humoring me, I mean. No one would ever…” they trailed off.

“Suspect that we’d be caught kissing in an alleyway?”

Bellroc looked almost sheepish. “…yes.”

Skrael tilted his head, looking them over.

…And, ah, he couldn’t resist. He hiked his backpack onto one shoulder, and began to exit the alley, tossing his words out as he left, “That’s alright. It was fun.”

By the time they unfroze, Skrael was long gone, leaving behind only a tingle on their lips, and a manilla folder in their bag, which promised that they’d be seeing him again.

[litteidiot]

Hello! I've been reading ur fics recently, and I love them- they're amazing and touching! I was wondering if I could request a scenario for all 4 boys, in 2nd pov about the MC having a sudden panic attack? I understand if you don't wanna write it!

Hii! Thank you for reading my fics and I’m really happy that you like them. I hope with that one I can satisfy you as well!

I split this into two parts so stay tuned! Sorry if the second part will take time.

Reacting to MC having a panic attack pt. 1

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Type: Scenarios

Attention! The characters are not mine credit to the Mr. Love Team!

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Victor

It was another day like the other. But you were nervous. Recently you got two great opportunities for the next episode of Miracle Finder. You were 100% sure these episode will make the company go viral.

And just like always Victor asked for the draft and report about the episodes. And it was due today. You were busy this week preparing the set and everything essentical for the show you totally forgot to to do yor job assigned by him. So one day before due you pulled an all nighter, writing the reports to satisfy his request. By the time the clock hit 6 am you were done. Both documents were at least three pages long, and you were sure no information was left out.

But then why you were so nervous? Maybe because the companies you will soon work with are bigger then yours? As you approached the LFG building this tingling nervousness didn’t stop. It was like a parrot on your shoulder, chanting the same word until it drives you crazy.

You step into the elevator and pushing the button where Victor’s office was. Your palms were sweating. It’s not like this is your first time handing him your work. But still. Your heart rate quickened, and with that you took small breathes to consol yourself.Knocking on the CEO’s office door, you waited for his approval to enter.

“Come in.” His usual stern voice was heard and after a second of hesitation you walk in. Like usual Victor was dressed in his black business attire, behind his computer, his fingers flying on the keyboard as he typed away whatever he was workinh on.

“I brought you the reports you were asking for.” You said in a voice surprising not even you, but Victor. He stopped his work, an eyebrow arched. “Are you doing well?” He asked. You cleared your throat. “Yes, I’m okay.” Victor’s concers vanished, and his serious business manner returned. “Good, now hand me the reports.” He demanded. This time it hit you. All day you were nervous about the reports you will going to hand to Victor. Are they good enough to his expectations? You almost forgot to do the report the other day. As you looked at the papers, you got even more nervous. Your handwriting was messy, a lot of correcting scattered across the pages, you realized whatever you wanted to write only ended up as a small side note.

No way in the world you will hand this to him. You stood there still, panicking out of your mind. Your heart at this point went crazy in your chest, your hands are dranched in sweat, your chest hurt as the lack of oxygen entered your lungs.

“I’m not asking again.” Victor’s voice pierced through your thoughts, not helping the situation. “MC, hand me the report.” He raised his voice, clearly annoyed because your lack of action. But your mind froze. Are the reports good enough? What if he thinks it’s one of those many sloppy reports you gave him and this time he had enough and not only he whitdraws the funding but also calls off the next show.

At this point you were wheezing. Suddenly you gripped your chest, and dropped to the floor. You felt lightheaded as you slipped in and out of consciousness, small beds of sweat appearing on your forehead.

“MC!” In a flash Victor appeared next to you literally having no idea what happened to you. Not going to lie even he went pale for a quick second. “MC! Look at me? Can you hear me, look at me!” He shook you lightly forcing you to look in his eyes. Not enough, your panick switched into a breakdown, tears streamed down your face like two little rivers. You got a strong and firm grip on his arms, as you both hyperventillated and cried at the same time.

Victor was scared out of his mind. He looked at you breaking into pieces in front of him, literally having no idea what is happening with you. He wrapped you into his arms as he strokes circles on your back murmuring things to calm you down. After your little episode you pulled away from him looking all ashamed because of the mess you caused him.

“I-I’m sorry.” You mustered out between two breaths. “I was so busy this week I nearly forgot the reports and I wasn’t confident my work will make it to your expectations. I got stressed, I’m sorry.” You rabled your reasons at him.

After this day, he made sure you were doing okay with the work he gave you and paid close attention if you are overworking yourself.

Kiro

You just launched a new episode of Miracle Finder but you weren’t on set to supervise the shooting. You were busy making contracts for future project you didn’t even bother to look over the script, you just signed the approval to air ot and that’s it. And boy you wish you did.

On the airing night you watched the episode and you almost ripped out your hair seeing how sloppy and unprofessional the episode was. And the feedbacks on social media and your company’s official website didn’t help either. It was all negative comments, judging the episode, you the company. This occupied your mind the whole week.

“What’s in my Miss Chips mind other than me?” Kiro’s playful voice interrupted you as he waved his hand in front of your face. You were at his house, Kiro asked you over to hang out a little while.

“Am I a good boss, Kiro?” This question, what circled in your mind finally set free. This question took a full 180, Kiro switched into a serious manner. “What do you mean? Of course you are! You are amazing as always!” He encouraged you, his radiating sunlight shone over you. But this couldn’t brighten up you mood. Not this time.

“I don’t feel like I’m good enough.” You said. “This week’s episode was a disaster! I wasn’t there to supervise and after that I wasn’t paying attention to it I just approved the airing. Now all the comments and feedbacks are attacking the company and me because of how bad this one turned out.” You rambled you hands getting shaky.

“Kiro and it’s all my fault. I was too busy to look through the files, now everything backfired on me. I can’t pay attention to multiple things at the same time. What kind of producer am I?” Your worry grew, so does your panic.

“I will bring down this company. Dad worked for decades on this TV show and my carelessness will ruin his hardwork.” You said, your body was now trembling. The air felt stuffy, The place suddenly was too small for you two.

“MC look at me.” Kiro lifted your head too look at him. “Answer these questions for me.”

“Kiro, it’s not the time to play 20 questi-” He cut you off.

“Just aswer these questions to me. What’s the day today.”

“Um, it’s Friday.”

“What’s the date today?”

“It’s the 24th.”

“Good. How many days we have in a week.”

“Seven days.”

“And in a month?”

“Thirty or thrity one days.”

“And what about a year? How many days are in a year?”

“Threehundred and sixty-five.”

“Good job. Are you okay now?” He looked at you with his tender blue eyes. You soon realized your breathing stabilized. You were no longer nervous. Seeing your confused face, Kiro flashed you a smile. “You were having a panic attack. So before it could get worse I distracted your mind from it.”

He pulled you in his arms, giving you his bearhug you love so much. Inhealing his scent, your mind fully relaxed. “Are you okay now?” He asked in a low voice, and you nodded, closing your eyes in comfort.

“You are an amazing producer MC. You are one of the most hardworking person I ever met, you are doing an amazing job, do not let those comments get to you.”

For more research study go to Science section

Stay tuned for pt. 2!!