#this is a weird brand of homophobia. not new but still always weird

[thatlittledandere]

DIDN'T BAN YURI THOUGH!!!

[victoria-daydreams]

The Winner Takes It All ||Challengers

Part II: Maneaters

AN: I'm back y'all! I'm sorry for the delay in posting, classes are over but my god did work quickly fill the vacuum of the little free time I had. Buckle up everyone, we're experiencing our first time jump! And once again, a big thank you to has followed this story!

Trigger warnings: slight homophobia

Word Count: 6.1k

Taglist: @seriousaliysa @hopeless-y @malscorner @miximora @urfavesim @mmmunson @jackierose902109 @youngestxhearts @blkdivinefeminine @kalikailz @lottiematthewsceo @lonnie2390147 @begoniaespresso @everydayimagineer @pnkstali @softimgyu @amethystwonders11 @hazbinh0e @ysuftmikey @summerssover @hummusxx @callumturnerwife23 @whitewashedghanian @brunettegirl @igotmajordaddyissues

I tried to tag everyone who commented, but tumblr is being weird so I don’t know if you’ll get the notification.

Part III: The First Crack

13 YEARS LATER - NEW ROCHELLE, AUGUST 2019

In the mostly empty lobby bar of The Ritz-Carlton, a woman occupied the furthest seat of the counter, alone. Her eyes were glued to the screen of her iPad Air as vibrant, moving images reflected perfectly in her eyes. "Electric Lady" by Janelle Monae played in the background of the video while several women and a few men were dancing or goofing around against a lilac backdrop. The camera cut to a shot of a smiling woman, striking several posses for it, showing off the makeup flawlessly applied to her face. Suddenly, the woman was lightly shoved out of the frame by two laughing women all sharing resemblance of each other as they began using the camera as a mirror to apply lipstick or lip gloss. The camera zoomed in on the round and square tubes of the products, displaying the white lettering printed across it.

Another model popped up on screen doing a twirl before the camera focused in on the eye makeup painted on his face. Just as the music was slowly beginning to fade out, the camera positioned itself into an overhead shot, showing the set in its entirety. On both sides, models were crowding in front of mirrors inside a beauty bar. The woman from the beginning of the video confidently strode down the middle of the space, the camera slowly panning down to bring it down to eye level.

"Ace Beauty. Keeping your game face effortlessly chic and always classic," she recited smoothly, a charming smile on her face as she signed her name on the lens with lipstick.

Gianna stared at herself in the video, the end of her Apple Pencil pressed against her lips. Her own makeup line, Gianna could hardly believe that's a sentence she could say. It made sense to pursue the business endeavor though, her makeup looks off the court were always being discussed by her fans. Her Instagram comments were constantly flooded with questions: what techniques does she use, how did she achieve a certain look, what products is she wearing, etc. The makeup line scheduled to drop the same day as the start of the US Open Tournament, this of course was by design; what better way to promote your new brand than doing it on the same day when millions of eyes are already on her.

"You actually came,"

The sound of his voice made a grin tug on Gianna's lips.

"Well why wouldn't I, Patrick?" she questioned, placing the stylus down onto the bar. "I said I would I come, and here I am," she said, turning to look at the dark haired man with a laugh.

Gianna slid down from the stool and onto the floor, holding her arms open invitingly for an embrace. Though they were a few feet apart, she couldn't help but notice that Patrick was a little worse for wear. Like he was constantly at war with life itself and lost many battles in the process, but somehow was still here. Gratefully, Patrick accepted the hug, but Gianna was unprepared for how tightly he held onto her. He was like a child holding their favorite stuffed animal, it couldn't have been clearer to Gianna that Patrick was in need of comfort. In need of a friend.

"Okay, okay, Patrick, it's great to see you too buddy," Gianna said, patting his back lightly a couple of times. But you are squeezing the life out of me," she wheezed, and Patrick immediately released her.

He pulled back, running his hands down her arms while letting his eyes roam over her freely.

"You look damn good Gianna," Patrick complimented, shaking his head and laughing.

She shrugged her shoulders, "Hmm, I know," she agreed, twirling around in her ivory Ralph Lauren sleeveless jumpsuit. "You don't look so bad yourself, Patrick," she complimented back.

Those gray eyes, worn and tired, but still the same eyes that lit up whenever he had seen her. Still the same boy underneath it all.

"Come, sit with me," Gianna encouraged, walking back to her corner stool.

Taking a seat next to her, Patrick propped his arm up against the counter and leaned his head against his fist.

"How's your dad?" he wondered curiously, smirking a little.

A breathy chuckle escaped her, "It is very brave, kind really, of you to ask about the well being of my dad," Gianna commented, something which Patrick laughed at. "He's fine all things considered, misses coaching me, but with his heart attack it's best he focuses on his tennis academy. Less stressful," she answered, unlocking her IPad.

"And what does father dearest think about you coming to a challenger tournament to see me?"

Another laugh left Gianna, this one harder than the previous one, "You do not want to know," she warned, dragging her finger across the screen to start her makeup ad from the beginning.

"Come on, what did the old man say? You piqued my curiosity now," he said, wearing a challenging smirk.

Gianna's eyebrows shot up, her head tilting to the side to wordlessly convey the question of, "You sure about that?" It only made Patrick's smirk deepen.

"Alright, you asked for it, but don't say I didn't warn you," she began, lifting her hands up. "My dad said it was beneath me to even be anywhere in your proximity," Gianna answered bluntly.

"You know, I gotta admire the old man for his never wavering in his hatred of me," Patrick joked. "At least you still came and didn't listen to him like you would've before,"

"Yeah, I did take some words of wisdom from you the day we broke up," she admitted, looking over to him. "You were right, you know? I always allowed my dad's words to sway me much too easily," she remarked. "Though, you are wrong about one thing. My dad doesn't hate you. Initially, he did," she informed, watching Patrick's eyebrows rise. "No, what he hates is watching you squander the potential you had as a tennis star," she corrected, shrugging her shoulders.

"Ouch," Patrick said, pressing his hand over his chest in fake pain.

Gianna thought she saw a brief flash of hurt in his eyes, but in an instant, it was gone and she was forced to think she had imagined it.

"Listen, not saying this tournament won't work out for you, but if doesn't, I have a proposal that my dad is probably going to kill me for," she said, resting her arms on the counter.

"And that is?"

"I'll get you a position at the Maurice Langdon Academy as an instructor," Gianna offered.

Patrick's head jerked up from his hand, "You serious, Gia?" he asked, a glimmer of gratefulness shining in his eyes.

"Serve normally, and I can almost guarantee you that my dad will take you on," she assured, pointing her finger at him.

"This isn't charity, right?" Patrick asked, a flash of skepticism appearing on his face. "My dad, who's a big fan of yours and a donor to your dad's academy, didn't put you up to this?" he questioned.

"Patrick, the only person who put me up to this was me," she answered. "Plus, it's like what you told me over the phone, you have one good season left in you. Who's to say after this challenger you don't go on to achieve your dream," she suggested, shrugging slightly. "This is a job offer, Patrick, one that is waiting for you no matter which way the wind blows," she said simply, smiling at him.

Before Gianna knew it, she became the receiver of a very tight bear hug that seemed to last for an eternity. Patrick shook with laughter, the sound reverberating against her as Gianna found herself smiling at his reaction just before he pulled away from her.

"This is the kindest fucking thing someone has done for me in a longtime," he informed, his voice slightly muffled against her shoulder. He pulled back. "Tennis superstar, Olympian, philanthropist, fashionista, friend," Patrick listed, shaking his head as another laugh escaped him. "Is there nothing Gianna Langdon can't do?" he wondered.

She chuckled, "I'm still working on that last part," Gianna said, shaking her head. "I haven't been the greatest at it in the past," she admitted, her eyes lowering.

Patrick grabbed a hold of her hands, "But you're here now, Gianna," he pointed out, bending his head so he could meet her stare. "I called your number with little hope that you would pick up, but you did," he reminded softly, running the calloused pads of his fingers across the back of her hands. "Hell, I thought the moment I dialed your number it would go straight to voicemail," he confessed, with a small smile before the two shared laughter.

Gianna glanced up, "It means a lot to me that I was the first person you thought to call for support," she confessed.

"Couldn't think of a better woman to be in my corner," Patrick reasoned, letting a lopsided grin grow on his face.

Just like that, old butterflies that Gianna believed had gone dormant awakened inside her stomach, fluttering and flickering about wildly. Giggling, she slowly pulled her hands from Patrick's and ran one of them through her freshly silk pressed, honey brown hair.

"Control it," she thought.

She cleared her throat, "You forgot to add one more feather to my cap," she commented, deliberately changing the subject.

"And what's that?"

"Entrepreneur," she beamed proudly. "Patrick Zweig, you are looking at a future beauty mogul," she proclaimed.

"You know once upon a time, the woman in front of me was worried no one was going to take a chance on her, glad to see those worries were unfounded," he recalled, mirroring her expression.

"I am too," she agreed. "Want a sneak peek of the fruit of my labors?" she offered.

Answering with a grin and nod, Gianna unlocked her IPad and tapped play on the screen. Just as Patrick began to watch her commercial, Gianna let her eyes wander into the hotel foyer until they landed on a pair of strikingly blue ones. Her breath hitched uncomfortably in her throat, while her heart nearly stopped in her chest. For a fleeting moment, time suspended itself and it was as if they existed in a universe all of their own. Nothing was there, nothing except for those bright blue eyes, boring into her own. Gianna could hardly believe, stomach, who the set of eyes staring back at her belonged to, for it was none other than Arthur Donaldson.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as blood thudded audibly in her ears from the erratic rhythm of her heart beating. Gianna swore the thumping of heart would drown out the sound from the video and be heard by Patrick. They stare at each other, nearly a decade of unspoken words flowing between them without either of them ever opening their mouths. In truth, the silence was far louder than anything they could have said. Confused shock painted itself all over Art's features, an expression mirrored on her own.

Instantly, Gianna's mind was flooded with memories with the force of a tsunami. The two of them goofing off in her dorm room when they were supposed to be studying for class. Her birthday dinner date, that was not a date. His touching gift to her on her birthday which led to a moment of weakness that set off a terrible domino effect. Gianna remembered everything. The catalyst event which decimated a friend group within a single day, tore best friends apart, and formed a rift which Gianna believed would never mend. She couldn’t forget their history, it defined who they were now.

"Were those your sisters in the commercial?"

Patrick's voice was faint and faraway, everything for Gianna was muffled and distorted, like voices being heard underneath water. The impact of a hand on her knee ripped Gianna out of her trance. Blinking a few times, Patrick's face came back into her focus.

"I-I'm sorry what did you ask?" Gianna questioned, pointedly ignoring Art's eyes being trained on her and burning holes into her face.

"Was that Alicia and Farrah I saw in the commercial?"

"Yeah—Yes, they were," Gianna confirmed distractedly, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"You alright Gia? You've been looking over my shoulder for a solid minute now," Patrick remarked, raising a brow. "Is there someone you know here?" he questioned curiously, beginning to turn around.

Gianna had never moved quicker in her life, her hand darting out to grasp his chin with two fingers and redirecting his attention back to her. The world's awkwardest ex-friend's reunion was not going to happen on her watch.

"No one worth mentioning or addressing," Gianna assured, an easy smile on her lips. Releasing his chin, she lightly hit her palm against the counter. "Let’s have a drink, yeah?" she suggested, getting the bartender's attention.

"To celebrate you or me?"

"You, silly," she answered, before motioning to her drink for a refill and ordering for Patrick. She still knew his drink of choice despite the passage of time. "And a little bit of me as well," she admitted playfully, moving her head side to side. "I'm serious though, Patrick. I know how much this tournament means to you and how much you have riding on it. I am proud of what you accomplished, truly," she praised, her eyes twinkling in delight.

"Receiving high praise from Gianna Langdon," Patrick began, as their drinks were slid across the counter in front of them. "I'll be damn near unstoppable on the court now," he joked, grabbing his glass.

Gianna grabbed her own drink, "To future successes," she wished, raising her glass.

"To future successes," Patrick echoed, the rim of his glass softly clinking against hers. They both take a sip of their drinks and Patrick grinned against his glass as if he just remembered something. Lowering the cup from his lips, he placed it on top of the counter. "I forgot to wish you a happy belated," he mentioned.

"Birthday?" Gianna asked, bringing her glass down from her mouth. "That was way back in early spring, but thanks regardless," she said, with a laugh.

"No, silly," Patrick said, with a grin. "Happy belated Pride! Congrats on coming out as bisexual!" he cheered.

"Oh fuck off!" Gianna said, laughing heartily and hitting his arm.

"What? It was very brave of you to do so," he complimented, laughing himself.

With a playful roll of her eyes, Gianna shook her head.

"Bravery had nothing to do with it," she corrected. "I mean, it's what I am. I discussed coming out to the public with my dad, and he said no better time to do it than in the month where it celebrates folks like me," Gianna recalled, shrugging and lifting her glass to her lips. "I'm already a beloved athlete, it was only going to be a net positive for me," she reasoned, leaning back against the backrest of the barstool.

"Always about the optics with you, Gia," Patrick said, his tone biting.

Gianna lifted her drink to her lips, "I am my father's daughter," she said dryly. "For better or for worse," she added quietly, knocking back the rest of her drink.

~~~x~~~

13 YEARS EARLIER - STANFORD UNIVERSITY, 2006

Move-in day was hot. Scratch that, it was scorching outside underneath the California sun. The blistering heat made the task of transporting Gianna's belongings to her dorm room a miserable one. The thought of forgoing her clothes all together floated about in Gianna's head if it meant some relief from the heat. Though, she knew her mom and dad would be none too pleased at the gesture, especially since the two helpers in their amidst was Art and Patrick.

Being the ever helpful boyfriend, Patrick lent his hand in assisting both Gianna and Tashi move into their dorm rooms. Despite his helping hand, Gianna's dad was still none too impressed by Patrick.

"I don't like it, he's too arrogant for my liking," the salt-and-pepper haired man groused, shaking his head, clearly displeased by Gianna's taste in a boyfriend.

Mrs. Langdon snorted softly from her seat within the trunk of their truck.

For as long as Gianna could remember, her mother had always exuded an air of sophistication and chic that she hoped she could match one day. Of course, when her mother being a former American Ballet Theatre ballerina, it came with the territory. People always told her she had mother's soft face or most commonly said she, “stole her whole face from her momma”. To Gianna, her mother was absolutely stunning, like straight out off the front cover of Ebony magazine. More importantly, her mom was the yin to her dad’s yang, her gentleness balanced his sternest.

"What? He's just a younger version of you Maurice, but," she paused, tapping a finger to the palm side of her hand and smiling at her husband.

"Well, unlike him, I didn't have wandering eyes," he retorted, taking off his horn rimmed glasses, to wipe away the fog from his lenses. "Gia, darling, are you sure that Patrick is dating you for you, or because of your access to Tashi?" Mr. Langdon questioned sincerely, his brow arching.

"Ohh, this is awkward," Gianna thought.

Telling her mom and dad she and Tashi were both dating Patrick, she would simply have to be waterboarded for them to get that information out of her.

"Patrick is dating me for me," Gianna reassured, nodding her head while wiping at the thin line of sweat trickling down her forehead.

"Your dad is worried about Patrick, while my concern is with your friend, Arthur," Mrs. Langdon stated, shifting her body to face Gianna fully.

"Art?" Gianna repeated, disbelief all over her face. "What, come on? Art is probably the nicest, sweetest guy I've ever met," she defended, an incredulous laugh belting from her.

"Honey, those are the ones you have to be the most careful of," Mrs. Langdon warned, placing her hand on Gianna's knee. "Boys like Art, are able to get away with much because people believe the same way as you do," she explained. "I've seen the way he looks at you, how he looks when you and Patrick get affectionate with each other," she noted, staring pointedly at Gianna. "I say this as your mother, as a woman, be careful around Art. I fear he's the type to throw stones and then hide his hands, if it means getting what he wants," she advised.

Gianna rolled her eyes, "Mom, that's ridiculous," she protested.

"Gia!"

"Speak of the devil," she thought.

Standing at the doorway of her dorm building was Art with his trademark backwards Stanford hat and a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"I guess that's our sign to hit the road again," Mrs. Langdon noted, with an exhale. "Your dad and I still have to go to UCLA to visit Farrah and make sure she's all squared away for her sophomore year," she reminded, pushing herself up from the trunk bed and reaching her hands out for Gianna.

"Call me the moment you make it to campus," Gianna ordered, taking her mom's hands to jump down onto the ground.

"Yes, ma'am," Mrs. Langdon answered, nodding her head and chuckling. She ran her hands up and down Gianna's arms, giving her a once over. "Can't believe I'm dropping off my baby girl to college!" she exclaimed, bringing her in for a tight hug. "One step closer to being a big name tennis superstar!" she cheered, as Gianna returned her hug. "I'm so proud of you!" she stated, pulling back from her.

Gianna beamed at her mother's words as the older woman pressed a kiss atop of her head.

"Your mom offered you some words of wisdom, now it's my turn," Mr. Langdon said, gathering Gianna in his arms for another tight embrace and swaying them side to side. Pulling away, he gave her biceps a squeeze as his demeanor became a little more serious. "Don't let her run you," he instructed vaguely.

Gianna frowned, "What?" she questioned, her head tilting.

"Do not let Tashi Duncan run you," he repeated slowly. "You've allowed her to get away with it for too long, but starting today, that shit dies," he said sternly.

"Tashi does not run me, Dad," Gianna disagreed, scoffing quietly. "I think we both witnessed that at Juniors this year," she pointed out.

"You seem to have a great handle on that, tennis wise," Mr. Langdon began, pressing his palms together. "But for life in general, you're lacking severely," he retorted. "Let this be the last day I ever hear you say the words, 'Tashi says', 'Tashi wants', or 'Tashi believes', alright?" he questioned, staring over the rim of his glasses. "I'm trying to make you a superstar, not a sidekick to another superstar. It's time you shed that image once and for all, and to do that, you must start thinking for yourself. Making a name for yourself. Got it?" he asked, both his brows raising.

"Yes, sir," Gianna answered tightly.

Mr. Langdon nodded approvingly, "Atta girl," he replied, before bringing her in for a second hug. "Have fun in college, but not too much fun," he murmured, against her head. "Kick ass and take names, we have a dream to fulfill," he said, with a pat against her back.

"Yours or mine?" Gianna thought bitterly.

Her dad released his hold on her, moving to shut the trunk door close. Gianna watched her parents get into the truck, the doors slamming close in unison.

"Gia, just please consider what I said earlier, for me," Mrs. Langdon said, looking back at her from the passenger seat.

"Yeah, I will, I will," she answered, brushing off her mom's concerns.

With one final wave, her parents pulled off from the parking lot and Gianna felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest. She was finally free. For the first time in her life, Gianna would be able to navigate life where tennis and her dad were not wholly the center of her universe. She now had the chance to do something she always dreamed of doing, just being a normal 18 year-old. Exploring old hobbies and new, hanging out with friends, going to parties, it was all there for the taking now that her dad could no longer constantly breathe down her neck. Smiling to herself, Gianna turned around and jogged to the entrance of her dorm building where Art patiently waited for her.

"Everything good?" Art wondered, as she climbed the last step up.

"Never been better!" Gianna answered, a delighted smile on her face.

Walking past him, she nimbly snatched Art's hat from his head and ran into the building.

"Hey!" he cried playfully.

Gianna sprinted up the staircase to her floor, giggling every step of the way as Art was hot on her trail and laughing along with her. Just as she approached the doorway to her room, she suddenly felt herself being lifted off her feet and spun around, briefly feeling weightless.

"Your girlfriend is a thief!" Art informed breathlessly, with a laugh as he put Gianna back down on her feet.

Another series of giggles left Gianna as they entered her room, "Do not listen to such slanderous lies! I'm innocent!" she proclaimed, placing Art's hat on her head.

Making a beeline to her bed, she plopped down on it next to Patrick who was casually stretched out across the mattress. In an instant, his arm naturally wrapped itself around Gianna's waist while he shifted himself into a sitting position.

"Look at this face Art," Patrick began, using his free hand to take her chin in between his fingers and playfully squeeze her cheeks. "Does this look like the face of a thief?” he questioned. Gianna shook her head in his grasp, her eyes warm with mirth. "Exactly Gianna, that's what I think as well," he agreed, before swooping down to attack the side of her face with kisses.

"Patrick!" Gianna shrieked in laughter, writhing in arms.

Tashi started making fake gagging sounds and Gianna eyes flickered over to hers.

"Don’t be like that Tash," she said, a fake pout on her lips. "There's plenty of love to go around," she reminded, outstretching her hand towards her girlfriend.

"You sure about that?" Tashi asked, her face contorting in a look of faux outrage. "Because it seems like Patrick is hogging you all to himself,"

Gianna only snickered in response, her eyes rolling before meeting Art's stare. It made her smile falter when she did. There was the faintest twitch of a muscle in his jaw, a scowl threatening to cloud his features. His eyes hardened at the edges to the point they resembled ice. And she was the only one noticing the drastic shift in Art's cheery demeanor, it sent shivers down her spine. Vaguely, Gianna felt Patrick's lips peppering kisses up and down her neck while talking to Tashi in between each one. Without taking her eyes off Art, she reached behind her and lightly tapped the side of Patrick's face.

Gianna cleared her suddenly dry throat, "Alright, alright, easy there lover boy," she joked, tearing her eyes from Art's face for a quick glance to his throat where his Adam's apple bobbed in agitation.

Patrick chuckled against her skin and pulled away from her, resting his back against the wall while bringing her down with him.

"So uh, what do you guys wanna do now?" Art wondered, his usual bright attitude returning without missing beat. "The day is still young," he added, lowering himself down to have a seat onto the plush rug covering the floor.

"Hmmm," Gianna hummed in contemplation, adjusting Art's hat to fit snug on the top of her head.

It was an action that left Art's gaze lingering on her. Gianna wished he would quit staring at her like he was a man dying of thirst, ready to drink her up and gulp down like a glass of water when placed in front of him. And it was not because she found it creepy, it was the fact that it was stirring up physical and emotional responses she should not be having when her boyfriend and girlfriend are literally in the room with her.

"I think—" Gianna began.

"We should go hit around on the courts," Tashi suggested, swiveling back and forth in the desk chair. "Can't think of a better group to do it with," she reasoned, her lips curling upwards.

"What? Oh come on, no!" Gianna complained, raising up from Patrick's chest. "We're all gonna have plenty of opportunities to hit a tennis ball around the court," she said in exasperation. "We're in college guys—well most of us are in college," she corrected, earning her a squeeze to her side from Patrick. "Let's be normal college kids and have some fun for once and enjoy our freedom," she suggested.

"What did you have in mind Gia?” Patrick asked, his fingers softly trailing up and down her waist.

"There's a mini golf course not too far from campus. I saw it on the way here with my parents," she answered, looking around at everyone.

"That does sound fun to do," Art grinned, nodding his head in agreement.

"Gia, you know complacency breeds mediocrity," Tashi warned.

"God, does she sound like dad!" she thought.

Gianna spoke before she could stop herself, "Yes, and, being hyper focused on one, single thing makes a person super fucking boring too," Gianna shot back.

The swiveling of the chair came to an abrupt halt. Gianna could almost physically feel all the air sucked out of the room. Nobody moved and Gianna found herself engaged in a staring match with Tashi in a battle of wills.

"Are you calling me boring?" Tashi challenged, her eyes narrowing.

Art breathed out a nervous chuckle, "Tashi, I don't—" he started.

"No, no, let Gianna answer," Tashi interrupted, holding her hand up in his direction without looking.

"Yes," Gianna thought.

"I didn't say you," Gianna pointed out. "It was a generalized statement," she continued.

"Is that so?" Tashi asked, doubt coloring her tone.

"Yeah, it is," Gianna answered, arching her brow in challenge.

"Come on Tash," Patrick called, sitting up from his spot against the wall. "It's not a bad idea, all of us are going to have our hands full for the next couple of months," he said, his eyes dancing between the two girls.

"We can make it a going away party for Patrick before he's off to the pros," Art chirped in.

"Yes, exactly Art!" Patrick agreed. "And what better way to be sent off than having my two, beautiful girlfriends by my side,”

Gianna stole a quick glance at Art after hearing Patrick's words and she swore she saw his forehead vein pulse with unusual intensity.

"Okay, fine," Tashi huffed, and Gianna's eyes flitted from Art back to her.

Gianna softly pushed Patrick's arm from her waist and stood up to sit on Tashi's lap.

"It'll be fun, Tash!" Gianna promised, looping her arms around Tashi's neck. "You'll see," she encouraged, pecking her forehead.

"Yeah, yeah," Tashi groused.

~~~x~~~

With pursed lips, Gianna drew her arms backwards then forwards to make sure that the little, white ball was aligned with her club before gently swinging at it. The precise hit sent the ball rolling down the green in a perfectly straight line, right into the hole.

"Nice shot Gia!" Art cheered, sticking his hand out for a hi-five.

"I try," she smirked, slapping her hand against his. "Your turn, partner," she said, motioning him to take his position.

It was Gianna's idea to split the group into teams, that way both Gianna and Tashi could both somewhat get what they wanted, a fun but fierce competition. Art set his ball onto the green, getting into his stance and took aim.

"So, are we gonna talk about it?" he asked, the club solidly hitting the ball in the center.

Gianna frowned, "Talk about what?" she asked back, watching his ball stop just short of the hole.

Art turned around, an incredulous look crossing his face at her question.

"What happened in your hotel room," Art supplied as if it was the most obvious answer, before moving closer to his ball.

"Oh, that..." Gianna trailed off, following behind him. "What about it? What is there to talk about?" she questioned dismissively, twirling her club in her hand.

Just as the questions left her lips, Art tapped his ball into the hole with ease.

"That what happened between us is constantly replaying in my head 24/7," he explained, turning around again. "And it's torturous," he went on, his eyes desperate.

Gianna only blinked in response, genuinely perplexed on what Art wanted her to do or say about that.

"Well get it to stop," Gianna suggested lamely, lazily tossing one arm up. "I don't know what you want me to tell you," she added, with a shake of her head.

"Get it to stop?" he repeated, in disbelief while taking a step closer to her. "Gia, you gave me a handjob!" he exclaimed lowly, so only she could hear. "You can't do that to a guy and expect him to just forget it!" he insisted.

"What I did could hardly qualify as a handjob, Art," Gianna argued, her voice matching his. "It was one pump at max," she pointed out.

Gianna knew this was childish, to be arguing the technicalities of what is a handjob, but she needed to quash what she thought Art was poking at. They didn't need to talk about that ever again, it was… it was a good time, it basically meant nothing. All she had to do was bury her budding feelings deep down, and make an active effort to never acknowledge them again.

"Why did even tell me this, knowing I'm dating your best friend?" Gianna questioned, anger rising in her voice.

"Because despite that, I think you like me too," he countered, his frustration growing more palpable by the second.

"Look Art, we had some fun in my hotel room. You, me, and Patrick, we all did," she deflected, shaking her head again. "Fun," she emphasized.

"Fun? That's all that was?"

God, did she feel like a bitch, watching Art's face crumple made her almost reconsider everything, but she was in too deep now to back out now.

"In that instance, yes," Gianna answered bluntly, watching how that verbal blow knocked the wind out of him. "I'm sorry, did you think it was more?" she asked coldly.

With each word she uttered, it visibly pained Art and the lines in his forehead grew deeper and deeper. He looked like a kicked puppy, and god did she hate when he looked like that. Silence fell between them, the most uncomfortable silence of Gianna's life.

"Fuck! This was supposed to be a fun night!" she groaned, before turning away from Art and walking away from the hole they were at.

"You never denied it," Art remarked, his words were spoken softly, barely a whisper, but to Gianna they were deafening. So much so, that she abruptly froze mid step, her shoulders visibly stiffening. "That you had feelings for me," he finished quietly.

Gianna was like a deer in headlights. She had hoped the harshness of her words would cause Art to fail to notice what she didn't say. He was far more attentive than she realized. Swallowing uncomfortably, Gianna all but sprinted to where Tashi was, not daring to look back.

"Hey Tash," Gianna greeted, forcing a smile on her face as she approached her. "How's your game going? Where did Patrick go?" she questioned, praying she wasn't noticeably acting strange.

Tashi didn't bother looking up at her, "Oh, you know," she began, her voice monotone. "It goes," she answered, barely making an effort to hit the golf ball into the hole. It pitifully only moved a few feet from them. "Patrick, on the other hand went to buy food for us," she answered flatly.

Gianna felt her grip tighten around her club, "You know could at least make an attempt to actually try and have fun," she commented.

Tashi's head whipped up, a frown already etched on her face.

"I didn't want to come here in the first place, and you know that," Tashi stated, carelessly letting the golf club fall from her hand. "Fun, fun, fun. That's all you seem to care about now!" she snapped, folding her arms against her chest.

Gianna rolled her eyes, "Excuse me for daring to indulge in my newfound freedom from being under my dad's thumb for the first time in years," she responded sarcastically.

"I'm sure he'll be just thrilled to learn the placeholder for his own lost dreams immediately took her eyes off the prize the second he left her alone," Tashi said, a derisive chuckle leaving her.

"Fuck you! That's a low fucking blow even for you Tashi!" Gianna hissed, stabbing her finger in the air toward her best friend. "I pray you never find yourself in the same position which I've been put through," she wished.

Once upon a time, much like Gianna, her father was a talented tennis prodigy who was on the cusp of a promising career in the pros. However, just as his career started, it was snatched away within a blink of the eye with death of his father, forcing him to return home to take over the family horse ranch. And Gianna has had to suffer for circumstances beyond hers or her father's control ever since.

"You don't know what it's like, to have your own dad be your coach as well," Gianna went on, her fist balling up. "And being forced to reckon that you begin to see him as less of a father and only as a coach," she added, faintly feeling her nails digging into her palm.

"Poor fucking me, I'm Gianna Langdon who's had a silver spoon in my mouth since I could walk," Tashi mocked. "My life is so difficult because I have to play a sport I'm wonderful at and my dad has went above and beyond to make sure I excel at my craft, like having a fucking personal tennis court built in my backyard!"

"And you think that's a blessing?" Gianna asked, the pitch in her voice rising. "It was a curse! My own personal gilded cage, a constant reminder that I've never really had any say at all to explore life outside of tennis," she exclaimed, dropping her own club now.

"You like baking,"

"Ooh one whole hobby," Gianna deadpanned, raising her hands and shaking them. "You know what you're supposed to do at college besides learn?" She questioned. "Party and find yourself,” she listed, ticking them off with her fingers.

"You're at Stanford to play tennis on a full ride scholarship," Tashi reminded firmly.

"Well it's a good fucking thing I can multitask," Gianna retorted. "Come on Tashi, think about it. Outside tennis, what else do you and I do in our spare time? Talk about boys?" she said exasperatedly.

"Yes, and its worked for us this entire time. Why change now?" Tashi replied, a soft frown creasing her forehead.

"Because we were friends then, but now we're girlfriends—"

Tashi scoffed, "Girlfriends? You haven't even publicly came out and stated that we're dating," she pointed out.

Gianna could only bite her tongue, because Tashi was right, she hadn't. Although, she had her reasons, they were wholly self-serving, but there was logic behind them.

"I know you haven't told your mom," Tashi began. "And I know damn well you haven't said anything to your dad," she stressed. "So, what is it? Are you afraid of ruining your ‘golden child’ title if your parents find out you're queer?" she taunted.

"You think my parents care if I'm gay?" Gianna asked incredulously. "They've known Farrah is a lesbian for nearly two years now," she informed.

"She plays women's soccer, I'm positive your parents weren't surprised about that revelation," Tashi said dismissively. "The closet was made of fucking glass," she quipped.

If Gianna wasn't so frustrated and infuriated with Tashi, she would've laugh at Tashi's remark.

"Alright, fuck it, you want to know why I don't to want go public? Why I refuse to?"

"I'm waiting with bated breath," Tashi answered sarcastically.

"It's because I have a goddamn name and image to uphold," Gianna said frankly. "We both do," she added, her tone softening.

"Oh my god!" Tashi complained. "It's always about image with you, with your dad!" she snapped.

"I'm being pragmatic here and you know it, you're just being too stubborn to realize I'm right," Gianna claimed, crossing her arms.

"Billie Jean King, a tennis legend is an open lesbian,"

"Yeah, and did you skip over the part where she was forcibly outed, shunned, and lost all her endorsements soon after?" she shot back. "Do you want that fate for the both us when either of us have barely even made a start in our careers?" Gianna questioned, no trace of anger in her voice only sincerity.

Tashi never got the chance to respond as an arm snaked its way around Gianna's waist.

"Now, what are you doing around in these parts?" Patrick asked humorously. "Is Art doing that bad you had to switch sides?" he guessed.

Gianna looked over at him, "I came to see how you two losers were doing," she lied, grinning at him.

Her eyes found Tashi's once more, their argument from moments before still raging silently between in stares, and all the while Patrick is none the wiser. He didn't notice the obvious growing tension between his two girlfriends, between two best friends.

Part IV: Cocky Af

[mymreaderlibrary]

I need more old man yoai. Its just, it's good soup, ya know. I want them to get a house and adopt a teenage kid. Just family stuff ya know. Its good soup, ya know.

SORRY THE SOUP TOOK SO LONG, but I did my best to try and fulfill this ask. There were some changes to your idea but I hope it still works 😭

Old man yaoi pt 3 here we go

[long distance, weird fucky timeline, use of y/n, mention of the soap-cident except he’s fine because I said so, minor homophobia, some angst, an original character, and my adamance to be slow as fuck with romance].

[length: 2227 words]

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Getting to finally kiss each other didn't open the floodgates per say but it did give them enough respite that their "tenseness" subsided. The rest of the 141 were relieved that the pair had somehow righted their differences, even if they still didn't know what those differences were, and Soap congratulated them on "making up".

It was awkward for a bit and while it was nice knowing the feelings were recuperated neither knew what was too much or too little so they rarely made any advances. When they did finally feel confident enough, usually in complete privacy and far late into the night, it would be a lot of soft touches. Thumbs running over knuckles, shoulders bumping lightly together, maybe even a hug if they were feeling bold (though it was more like just leaning on each other as they never raised their arms higher than the hip). They kissed a good few times again but it was like a rare treat. 

Despite everything neither had actually been with another man before, y/n got close at a gay bar a while ago but a light shined directly into his eyes and he got a migraine that forced him to leave. The unfortunate side effect of previous head injuries. Meanwhile Price had casual relationships with women in the past but not men, however it's not like they lasted for too long anyways as his devotion to his work spared little room for it. So sue them if they didn't know what to do, this was all brand new and definitely badly timed.

They kept up in a pattern; mission, meetings, and then downtime. Complete a good weeks worth of work, discuss their next steps (and start on them), then pull out a drink and chat. Consider it just their luck that the night things finally felt like they were heating up, privacy was near guaranteed, and tomorrow posed no urgent challenge that Soap decided knocking wasn't necessary and stood there bewildered by the doorway till he caught their attention. Johnny was incredibly apologetic and promised not to tell anyone but the two older men decided it would be better to just come clean before something like that happened again. Laswell of course wasn't surprised, but Gaz and Ghost had a momentary pause that they quickly reassured wasn't from judging just surprise. Overall it went over smoothly and it had the added bonus of giving Price and y/n more alone time. 

(Note: however, the second it was clear to Soap he could freely chat about Price and y/n's relationship it became open season for the worst jokes imaginable. When Soap wasn't instantly flayed, the other guys would join in with a particular "dad joke collector" Ghost staking his claim in the torment). 

-

By the time y/n's work was over Price was hesitant to let him go, knowing they would not have this closeness again unless one of them gave up their current lifestyle. It was honestly a bit tempting, Price had spent about his whole life in the military and it wasn't like anyone could really judge a well seasoned man for retiring. But instead y/n gave him his phone number and the two split ways no matter how badly they yearned otherwise.

And that's how they stayed for the next couple of years, Price always calling from a burner and y/n being left to wait for him by the landline. Bi-monthly they would chat, y/n giving life updates and Price venting about how the 141 were going to give him a damn heart attack. Y/n got service dog, a great dane named Lucy who he couldn't help but boast about to the point the others wanted updates on her too. Price could sometimes hear her sniffing at the phone and was dying to see her in person. It relieved him to know y/n had someone (or something) there with him as the other man had admitted to feeling lonely at home. Still a big part of Price wished that someone could've been him. 

Over time Price reconsidered his stance on retirement with a series of back to back events being his solidifying his choice. It started off with a call from y/n, his family had come into town to visit after years of radio silence and at first it seemed to be going well. That was until his parents asked about his relationship. They sewed a lot of seeds of doubt, not privy to their son dating a male but also not believing it was serious enough to be real considering they never saw Price. His parents were happy to grind their heel into any anxieties their son had which ended up in a full blow up during his mother's birthday. Y/n ended up storming out after his mom made a show of mocking his relationship in front of extended family. He was humiliated that his parents could still get a rise out of him even in his old age. Price had gotten a call from y/n afterwards who sounded completely exhausted. Price desperately wanted to be there to comfort his lover but ultimately the only thing he could do was verbally console him. 

Within the same week Price began noticing a small shake to his hands. Nothing serious but still not something you'd want to see, especially as a sniper. He couldn't tell if it was age, an injury, or stress but it left him with an odd feeing in his stomach. Like his body was trying to tell him something. 

And a little while after that it seemed Soap decided to deliver on that heart attack joke. Out cold in a hospital bed with a list of injuries too long to name, the scotsman had everyone in a panic. Ghost in particular didn't take it well and, while he was good at being outwardly calm, anyone who knew the man proper could tell he was terrified. He just had this vague vacant look in his eye, it wasn't hard to determine he was probably disassociating. Gaz on the other hand tried to keep some semblance of positivity even if he was running on empty. Not the kind of peppy “everything is gonna be okay!” positivity but a rather light kind. The type where you try not to let your own doubt eat you upside by never verbally stating reality. He didn't want this to be the end so he wasn't about to act like it, but he was undoubtedly scared shitless.

Price had called y/n after the incident and it became his turn to be consoled. He wasn't a crier but he imagined if he was there would've been at least a few. He had dealt with shit like this before, but the secret was it never got easier you just got better at being quiet about it. He knew y/n understood that.

-

However by some grace of god Soap woke up. The man was shockingly resilient and not about to let himself get felled by just anything. The asshole was even joking within the first few minutes of consciousness much to Price's chagrin but Ghost and Gaz couldn't have been happier. Those two stayed with Soap for a while and Price was certain he heard scot getting bitched out from across the hall. Make no mistake, even while mad at him for being reckless they were glad to be ranting to his face rather than a casket. 

Y/n got another call after that, the bi-monthly quota quickly exceeded, to deliver the good news. The call was admittedly shorter than their usual but it left them both feeling far more hopeful than the last. When Price closed his burner he couldn't help but think about being there with y/n in person, getting to say these things to his face, even getting to hold him. He hadn't been kissed in years now and he yearned for a moment of peace like that especially after all that stress. A silent decision was made, a bit impulsively, but it was a long time coming. 

After Soap was back up and running the man started taking missions again, this time with an extra watchful eye from the team. But to everyone's surprise one person wouldn't be joining them. In an uncommonly personal meeting, Price announced his retirement to the rest of the 141. Soap had opposed in a panic thinking this was due to his accident, and while it might've inspired part of it, Price assured him this was something he had been thinking about for a while. He felt it was time and well... he had someone he knew was waiting for him. 

The meeting, while bittersweet, left off on a note of pride. Not everyone can say they retired by will and especially not a man of Price's caliber. The team were happy for him but also demanded he try to stay in touch even if only slightly. With a hug from everyone (a shoulder pat from Gaz, a crushing squeeze from Soap, a light hold from Ghost, and a rather sentimental one from Laswell) he said his goodbyes and gave y/n another call.

Y/n sounded a little frazzled upon picking up and confusingly Price noted the sound of another voice in the background, distinctly female. As it turns out it was one of y/n's cousins who, after the birthday disaster, decided to get in contact with him. She felt bad for how the rest of their family had treated him and wanted to make sure he was doing alright. Apparently Ying, as she turned out to be named, was absolutely enamored with Lucy and was giving the dane the play session of a lifetime hence the sounds of chaos. Price instantly eased, especially with how relaxed y/n began to sound as he had settled in to his cousins presence.

They chatted like usual but y/n could hear a strong sense of sappiness to Price's voice as he closed the phone. 

It took about 3 days for Price to make his way over to y/n apartment and to say he got a warm welcome would be an understatement. The ex-captain hadn't actually told his lover about the retirement or his planned arrival so the other man was completely surprised, but overjoyed. It had taken years but they were finally here together again. Holding back felt unnecessary, they kissed right in the doorway as they clutched at each others bodies. The sensation made everything so much more real and they likely would've stood there for way longer if Lucy hadn't poked her nose into them. Price was was thrilled to finally see the big mutt in person and she took a quick shine to him.

-

Within a couple weeks later Price had tried to settle in but it wasn't working. The apartment was just too damn small especially with two grown men and a giant dog in it. Lucy often had to be taken out to the local dog park for exercise and Ying came in to visit from time to time which only cramped the space more. It was practically inevitable that they were going to search for a bigger home so they eventually started a search. Originally they looked into more apartments, but just one peek at their current set up (and into Lucy's big brown eyes) they knew they needed something much bigger.

 The search took a while but they eventually settled on simple cabin with a good two acres. It was remote enough that they didn't have neighbors, but also close enough to civilization that they could keep in touch with Ying. Plus there was a lake not too far from it which made for a great fishing spot. Price did most of the packing but they didn't have too many items anyways so one small u-haul was all they needed.

The cabin had a strong musky scent from the wood, the floorboards would creek with each, and the whole place was perfect. Settling into this was much easier, something about it just felt natural. Maybe it was the amount of room, maybe it was the peaceful location, or maybe it was they were together. Whatever the reason, Price felt he had made the right choice. 

-

Come half a year later, they've accumulated a few things to decorate their house, had their fair share of fishing days out by the lake, and maybe made a good couple of messes or two. Ying was an active visitor and even brought her husband along with her from time to time. Seeing her car pull up into the driveway was a common sight but this time she walked with a nervous excitement which was practically suffocating. Y/n let her in and she asked if she could have a talk with him. The two went over to the couch to chat as Price went into the kitchen to make a quick coffee. He could hear a series of spikes in tone, serious, excited, antsy, all forming together until he finally popped into the room to see a smile on his love and his cousins face.

Ying was pregnant with her first child and wanted to know if they could be the godfathers.

[fire-but-ashes-too]

(Writerblr) intro post!

Hi! welcome to my blog! this is my (very late) writerblr/general/artblr intro, or just somewhere with all my general informations :)

please, go on and read *bows*

☆ Ash is my name on here and i go by she/her

★ Im a teen writer and artist, but i dream of acting

☆ im from italy

★ pan ace and quoiromantic (or wtfromantic its the same) (im still kinda questioning tho??? probs demiromantic??? idk?? feelings r weird atm)

☆ entp and introvert

★ im always up for tag games or stuff like that :)

☆ recently added tags! #ash writes- my writing ofc #ash and her rants- just me talking abt random stuff could be anything serious or not #ash on fire- probs me fangirling over something lol i may get overexcited beware

★ i relate to a spiritual and psychological level to black cats and all their other forms (aka regulus black, tori spring, aristotle mendoza etc etc etc)

i mostly write fantasy or fanfiction, but sometimes i engage in various genres as mystery, dystopian or surrealism :)

★ So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since

genre: fanfiction

audience: general/ teen and up

tropes: rivals to lovers, college AU, slow burn, a lot of fencing, paris✨

cw/tw: past rape/non con, ptsd, homophobia, wounds/blood

progress: i try to update every week but nothing's promised 🥲

snippet here:

Years ago he’d learned to mask his handwriting, so now he could easily forge any handwriting he wanted, if he was given a good example of it being used. There was something extremely interesting in how each person connected two letters to each other. How they wrote an “ar” was different from how they would write an “or”, how much the words were apart from each other and how much pressure they put in the paper told a lot about someone, to him it was like zodiac signs. He didn’t always have to copy other handwritings, not unless he wanted to throw the blame on that person. He just had to invent a brand new writing style, and be careful to not slip his between the cracks. And that’s exctly what he did in the letter. Before Jesper could finish his monologue about how much he had missed out in the past few months holed up in his office, a blackmail threat was ready to be closed inside the paper envelope, just the signature was missing, but he didn’t bother to add it. A proper threat always had to be anonymous, it was always better to give as little information you could. Everything could be used against you. The maroon wax sealed the opening with a satisfying fizzling and a single wisp of smoke. The clock chimed on the wall, it was already 6 pm, he had to go finish some assignments.

(previously titled: questionable decisions)

☆ The Rogue

genre: fantasy, dystopian

audience: teen and up

setting: a fantasy world im currently busy (trying) building

progress: just vibes really, two mainc characters, a couple sides and an outline plus one of the first chapters, not much really but im working on it

characters:

anne: the rogue from where i took the title.

shes a 17 y/o girl who lives in a bunker in a forest, on the run from the government as she's a "high traitor and liar who must be destroyed".

she has the ability to modify her face and appereance for a while and she has a prosthetic arm connected to her virtual friend Indigo.

thanks to it she's able to teleport and keep track of various things.

alexander: the son of the dictator, he's lived his life in a bubble until 2 years ago, when he finally managed to get more social contacts with people and (slightly) catch up on what he's missed, behind his father's back of course.

he meets anne when she's captured and figures she's his best shot at escaping his father domain.

snippet:

This time, she materialised in the shadows behind a bulding, which gave her enough cove for her to shift her facial features. Her nose a little bigger, her hair some shades brighter, her eyes more elongated and greener than the grass growing outside her doorstep and a splash of freckles to top it all off. It was way harder to do it without a mirror, and way more dangerous. For all she knew, she could’ve been looking like a girl with a fish head, and she didn’t know if that would be better or worse than looking like herself. Anne took out a hat and a silk scarf, she wrapped it around her neck and jumped in a group of tourists gazing at the city. In no time she was in the square, vendor’s stands circling her, colourful flags waving in the wind. She could’ve stayed like that for ever, stuck in the memories of her old life, but she knew it couldn’t last forever.

★ Flowers and Homicide

genre: mystery

audience: general

cw/tw: blood, dead bodies, autopsies

main character: Giada

she's a forensics student who one day stumbles (metaphorically) over a dead body in her neighbour's lawn and starts investigating.

progress: actually finished but in italian sadly so in the translation process

☆ Confessions of a timeless man

genre: short story, surrealistic

audience: teen and up

content warning: suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression

plot summary: a man is stuck living the same day over and over, after almost 10 years there, he tries to escape his curse by killing himself

progress: completed XD

(here's my ao3 btw)

you want to know more about me! why than you, here you go!

★ my favourite artists are Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Arctic Monkeys, Chase Atlantic, Marina, Lana del Rey, Sabrina Carpenter, Mother Mother and Billie Eilish (theres more but i cant remember whoops)

☆ synesthetic bitch

★ other than writing, art-ing and reading i love baking/cooking and crocheting

☆ theatre kid over here, always up for screaming my lungs out

★ uhhh im a vegetarian

☆ i know a scary amount about death and murder (especially poisons)

★ i dont have a specific vibe, it usually changes every few months or so

☆ i probably have anxiety but ive never been to therapy so idk 💀

★ always up for fangirling :3 (im in too many fandoms *cries* buuut im most active on pjo, marauders, grishaverse and osemanverse, musicals and some books that i have boards for on my pinterest :D)

☆ i am terribly scared of insects, needles and dogs

★ my (quite unusual) sport is aerial dance, a circus speciality that looks really cool but is acctually really painful

☆ my pinterest, spotify and goodreads if by some reason you're really interested in the chaotic human being that i am :)

thank you for reading this farrr🥹🥹

have a great day/night/life :D

[toffeecoffeee]

Last week, I had a lot of family over due to a funeral that had happened recently (don’t worry, I barely knew the guy), and we were starting to get into the “celebration of life” phase. My sister and I were tasked by a mother (more like we tasked ourselves) to look after her two young children (think like. preschool age). We had been playing with them using some brand-new bubble wands the mom brought with her, but the kids seemed more interested in the pond we had. After they looked at frogs for a while, they somehow found a golf ball in the grass (we live somewhat close to a golfing place, but not as close as you’d think. I do not know how the balls get in our yard at all), and were trying to fit it through a small hole in the armrest of our outdoor chairs.

Now, I think most of you already know I’m not cis. My gender is a bit complicated, so I just prefer to be undefined and use whatever pronouns I feel like. My family, however, does not know this. They are super accepting, and I know for a fact that they would love me for who I was if I ever told them, but I always worry that my complicated gender will confuse them. What if I feel like being they one day, and then he the next? Will they remember? Should I bother trying to have them remember? I don’t even know a better name than my given one, yet! Still, every time I’m called by that name, it just feels wrong. Like it’s not me. I know it can’t stay like this forever. One day, I’ll tell them. When I’m ready.

Back to the story at hand. As I said earlier, the two children were playing with a golf ball, trying to fit it through a hole in the armrest of a chair, when something weird happened. One of the kids, the younger one, said something strange. It sort of sounded like “other one”? Were they referring to me? My sister asked the kid to repeat themselves, and nope! It was a name. No matter how hard my sister tried to tell her that my name was [given name], they just wouldn’t budge. They said that I was “Not [given name]”, but “[other name]”. We asked the mother where that name could’ve came from, and she said that her kids didn’t even know an [other name]. There was no reason for the kid to have called me that. Normally, I would be indifferent to the weird feeling I get when I’m called some random name; I’m used to names that don’t fit me, but…

This one was different.

I kept playing the name over and over in my head. “[other name], [other name], [other name].” Nothing felt wrong about it. Nothing felt like it just barely didn’t fit, like a shirt one size too small.

And then, I realized.

“Oh, shit.”

“That’s me.”

A kid that had only met me that day found a name I’d been searching for most of my life. All of this contemplation, and all it took was some young kid’s randomness to find myself.

Or maybe, it wasn’t random.

Maybe, when that kid met me, they saw me. The real me, not the mask of [given name]. The kid didn’t know about prejudice, or homophobia, or any of that stuff. They looked at me, and saw me. They didn’t care what I was supposed to be, they just cared about who I was.

And I will remember that for the rest of my life.

And if, by some freak chance you use Tumblr when you’re older, I want to say thank you. Thank you for seeing me when even I couldn’t see myself.

I am forever grateful.

[tsuraiwrites]

Prompt for you: Steve didn't realize he and Eddie were dating until someone mentioned it offhandedly and he's furious that they could've been kissing this entire time.

cw for marijuana (not used on-screen), mentions of period-typical homophobia

-

Wayne’s truck isn’t in the drive when Steve pulls up to the brand new, government-issued double wide and shuts off the engine. That’s all he really takes note of before he’s hopping out his Beamer and is up onto the new, yet-unstained porch. The outside light isn’t on, but Steve could navigate the route up the couple of steps blindfolded at this point. 

That should have been a fucking clue.

He doesn’t mean to bang on the front door, honestly, but his heart is thundering in his ears and Steve can barely hear anything over his own uneven breathing. 

It takes far too long for the door to swing open, and that’s only after he hears a deadbolt slide on the other side. Eddie blinks in the doorway, black hair haloing around his head where he’s backlit against the encroaching dark. 

“Uh, hey man. It’s only nine. Thought you had the late shift today?” 

He takes in the scowl on Steve’s face then looks down at his chest, and Steve realizes he forgot to take off his uniform vest in his haste to leave Family Video. That’s okay, he can be embarrassed about that later. 

Right now he’s seething with an anger that has him not quite able to catch his breath. 

Still, he clings to his manners enough to rasp, “Can I come in?”

Eddie blinks, seems to realize he’s still standing in the doorway, and ushers Steve in with a dramatic wave of his hand. 

“Come on in! You know you’re always welcome in my humble abode,” he says, grinning.

Steve pushes past him into the living room without a smile or stopping to rib him over the fancy vocabulary. Now that he’s here, all he can focus on is Eddie Munson’s presence at his back. 

He stops in the empty living room, taking in the half-smoked joint in an ashtray by the worn couch, the animated movie paused on the VCR Steve and Dustin had 'dug up from a secondhand’ store for Eddie’s birthday. He unclenches the fists he’d been whiteknuckling on his jeans and turns around.

Eddie must read something in his face, because he pauses in his approach, eyebrows wrinkling up in concern. God, had he always been so easy to read?

“Steve, you’re acting weird, and I get coming from me, that’s kind of hypocritical but—are you okay?”

“I am…” Steve swallows, licks his lips and watches Eddie’s eyes track the movement,”super pissed off.”

Months, months, not wasted—never that—but time has passed him by when the one thing Steve has been fixating on was just within his reach, if only he hadn’t been too oblivious to realize. 

He reaches out with both hands to catch Eddie by the shoulders. Doesn’t miss the way Eddie tenses, eyes widening as Steve slides his grip up the sides of his neck to cup his face in both hands. Stubble rasps against Steve’s palms, and he revels in it, wants to slide into Eddie’s space until there’s no room between their bodies, feel the burn of five o’clock shadow on his own neck and chin.

If this were any other guy, Steve would worry, here; worry that he’s about to get punched in the face, worry about what he’s about to do could mean for the relationship they’ve built over the months since the final confrontation with Vecna.

But Eddie is watching him with wide brown eyes, hasn’t moved away from his grasp, even when Steve’s brain catches up with his mouth and he quickly qualifies:

“You brought me a milkshake at work yesterday. We’ve had solo movie nights at least once a week for months. Robin called you my boyfriend and I realized we’ve been dating but I was too stupid to realize we could have been making out for months, okay? I am about seven seconds from kissing you within an inch of your life, so you’ve got that long to tell me no or push me away-” 

Eddie’s mouth drops open halfway through his spectacular Robin impression, and he cuts Steve off with an incredulous laugh, lips stretching in a wide grin that’s making Steve’s heart beat faster for an entirely different reason.

“Tell you no? Come here.” 

He reaches forward and yanks Steve in by the stupid Family Video vest. When their lips meet, they’re both smiling too hard for it to be skillful, but Steve couldn’t give less of a shit. 

Every drop of anger he felt evaporates, and Steve melts into it as they finally kiss properly. Eddie tastes like weed and the pizza he probably had for a late dinner, his lips are chapped, and it’s so fucking perfect and human that Steve know’s he’ll remember every detail until the day he dies.

Then Eddie pulls away, only a fraction. Steve just barely bites back an embarrassing whine of protest.

“Also, stop calling yourself stupid.”

Steve laughs against his cheek.“Knew you wouldn’t let me get away with that.”

“Damn right,” Eddie mutters, and cuts any reply off with another kiss.

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Mon 7 June ‘21

Liam’s podcast with Steve Bartlett is out and while I still don’t care about that guy I’ll give him this-- he does great at getting out of the way and letting Liam talk. And boy does Liam talk! Liam says A LOT and let’s all just pause to send him some big hugs before we get into right? And then look to the future- Liam’s routine is to say ‘things have been terrible but it’s fine, it’s fine NOW’, always, even when that is absolutely obviously not true, and today is no different but for once I actually believe some of his hopeful bits too which is so great! I hope things really are shifting for him and I can’t wait to hear this new song of his. But there’s a lot that’s hard to hear too, oh Liam. He said that he and Maya have broken up (so yes, presumably why he just moved again such a short time after they moved into their haunted house), talked about his struggles with his alcoholism (and said he’s been sober for a month right now, go babe!), shared the usual distressing stories about his time in the band and what that was like for him (and how it still impacts him), and he talked about his new song and how it feels different for him than his past solo music. Truly though there is SO MUCH more than I can get into here or then you can get from the UA highlights- I HIGHLY recommend actually watching at least parts of the video, also because the attempt to summarize so much erases all the charm and humor, of which there is much. If you don’t think you want to watch Liam’s interviews, it has to be because you aren’t watching Liam’s interviews, they’re delightful! Plus really if you care about 1D and want information about what it was like for any of them, listen to Liam, he’s the one who’s out there talking about it.

About Maya he said, that yes, he is now single, and “I’ve just been not been very good at relationships,” and “I’m a proper perfectionist… at the start of the relationship you put out this complete false character like I might as well go in in costume, I’m like putting out something that is not there... kind of like encompassing someone else’s life with your crap rather than just doing your thing and laying out your store from day one. That’s my biggest problem is that I feel like I don’t lay out my store... and then I’m annoyed when they don’t like what I like,” and “I think my problem is I struggle to be on my own sometimes... I dive in and out of relationships too quickly. I’ve not spent enough time on my own to relearn about myself.”

He laughs about his tendency to ask his manager things during interviews; “My fans think that Steve is doing something to me, they’re like liberty for Liam because he always looks to Steve, but that’s because I like him. It’s not because he’s harming me as a person. There’s like a hashtag Liberty for Liam because they think I’m some like prison child,” and he also said “my manager’s my best friend,” (and he’s said in the past he is a big support for him) and mentioned stuff they’d talked about recently around his therapeutic awakenings.

He talked about therapy being something you have to want to do and be ready to do rather than being pushed into, like getting sober, and says that this time around with his own therapy work he’s really felt that and thrown himself into it and he talked a lot about his relationship to therapy in connection with band days. “I mean one of our old managers went to therapy from being a manager of One Direction. So if you can imagine how that feels like the rest of us definitely need some.”

“We were young,” he said, “What I found was I didn’t know I was the boss until like a few months ago, I still don’t even feel like I am now, like I’m such a child. And everyone I work with now is older than me and wiser than me and I’m like what the hell am I doing here with these people. When we were 17 I thought the security guard was like in charge of me so I was like Can we leave the room? No? Oh ok then,” and “when we were in the band, the best way to secure us was just lock us in our rooms. And of course what’s in the room? Minibar. So at a certain point, I thought Well I’m gonna have a party for one and that just seemed to carry on throughout many years of my life... You know I spoke to somebody about this in child development as a teen, the one thing you need is freedom to make choices. That we could do anything we wanted it seemed from the outside but we were always locked in a room at night and then it would be car, hotel room, stage, sing, locked. So it’s like they pulled the dust cloth off, let us out for a minute, but then it’s back underneath again,” and “the day the band ended I was like thank the lord for that. And I know a lot of people are going to be mad with me for saying that, but I needed it to stop. It would kill me.” Anyway, he said, because it wouldn’t be Liam without an upbeat coda, “I don’t want any of this to get lost in translation. I’m not 100% moaning about my life... it’s had its ups and its downs, but I would rather talk about it and it’s therapeutic for me.”

And what about that exciting new song? Liam said, “We have a really cool song in the pipeline... one of the first ones I’ve actually written myself- with some other people, I didn’t write it by myself, but it’s the first one I’ve really liked. And I think I got so used used carting around other peoples songs and not embedding myself creatively in what I do because I was so scared to find out who I was,” and “I don’t really know how I would tour again. I really want to” [on discord today he said he would be touring next year] “I always said throughout my solo career I’d let my song book speak to me. And I don’t think my song book spoke to me to get off my ass. I only became a solo artist because I had Strip That Down. I wasn’t gonna do it, I was gonna leave it alone. I was like, I survived it once thank you very much- but I’m back in now. Because the song, I knew it was right. It felt right with that song, I hadn’t had that. This year, the song we have I feel really really great about. So I’d rather let the music do the talking than me come out and force it. We don’t need any more useless music in the world, it needs to mean something,” and he mentioned the new song on the discord a lot too, most notably picking out a long comment that thanked him for making the fan feel supported and safe and for “putting your heart in everything you do” and for his support of the LGBTQ community to respond to with, “I think you will really like the new song.”

A few other random bits, he said that he thinks there should be a system to make therapy available to musicians in the industry, “I think I’m definitely gonna get a dog because I need routine,” and “I recently started jujitsu,” yeah you and everyone else huh, so do him and Louis and Oli go to the same gym or ???, and he acknowledged that as an addict he may have just transferred that to working out “but there’s a lot worse things to be addicted to then looking after yourself” hmm but he does seem to say that he’s doing better around body image stuff; he talks about having put on weight during lockdown and seeing himself in the BAFTAS performance- “I saw myself... and I was like ‘oh my god I’ve completely let myself go in this’. And it was fine...I feel so much more secure in myself now.” Oh and that he’s written a comedic movie script “based around AA” and his experiences there, such as how “I had a really weird AA experience the first time that I went. My first experience was with Russell Brand.” LMAO yes! Cannot wait, bring on auteur Liam please! Anyway as if ALL THAT wasn’t enough he’s also dove into the lead up to his NFT release; he said “I'm almost ready to share my NFTs with you guys... Who wants to see them?” and posted a tiny preview that tells us its (their?) title for the first time- Lonely Bug.

Niall and Anne Marie perform on Jimmy Fallon tonight, and the hype is already a go! I guess it’s prerecorded, as we’re already seeing pictures from it; they’re singing to each other with the cute car from the video in the background. Niall signed on to a letter to Boris Johnson asking for changes to music streaming revenue rules and signed by 232 artists (including all the artists Johnson recently named as his favorites, haha). Zayn signed on to a Billboard petition to the US senate calling for gun safety laws. The bar Zayn got into the fight in front of posted “Zayn's a regular at Amsterdam Billiards and he is a true gentleman. On Thursday night he was confronted by an inebriated passer-by outside on the street and was called a homophobic slur. We support Zayn & condemn homophobia in the strongest terms!” And also PS omg again because it just isn’t going away: Harry’s beauty company is called Pleased As, his name is Harry Edward Styles so yes when listed last name first, as legal documents do, it spells SHE but it is not a “feminist abbreviation” (WHAT? even??) nor the name of the business.

[nik-the-bik]

"Exchanging Body Heat" - Jekyll & Utterson Fic

Here I go combining the "snuggle for warmth" and "only one bed" cliches like the hack that I am.

Jekyll/Utterson is superior y'all

CW: Some hints of internalized homophobia from one of the characters. A character feels kinda guilty for having sexual thoughts and I definitely scaled it back from what it was in the first draft but if I need to go further please please please let me know.

Read more of my "Oh My God They Were Roommates" fics?

*****

It was late, bitterly cold, and the winter winds rattled against the ice-covered window as Henry Jekyll finally came back into the tiny room he shared with Gabriel Utterson.

“Any spare blankets left?” Gabriel asked, teeth chattering as he sat on his bed wrapped in nearly every sweater, jacket, and blanket that the two of them possessed.

“None,” Henry sighed, wrapping his own collection of sweaters and coats tighter against himself. He brushed a hand through his hair, which was getting far longer than he was used to and starting to grow out into a thick collection of curls. “I don’t know how we’re expected to sleep tonight.”

“I cannot believe that the school hasn’t found us any alternate housing,” Gabriel said. “How can we be expected to live through the winter with a hole in the building’s roof? It’s negligence, and quite frankly I’m willing to start a nasty petition to--”

“The hallways are freezing,” Jekyll murmured, coming to Gabriel seated on the bed.

“Are you alright?” Gabriel asked, lifting the blankets to let his best friend sit next to him and wrap himself in their warmth.

“I will be,” Henry smiled at him, his cheeks pink from the bitter air that dominated their dormitory.

Henry’s smile warmed Gabriel only slightly. “What are the others doing?”

“Well,” Henry began, “the folks who were able to reach the extra store of blankets first seem to have hoarded them all for themselves—”

“That’s kind of them—”

“--and there’s a collection of people camping out around the fireplace in the common room.”

“How many?”

“There’s barely any space to walk around them on the floor.”

“Dear Lord.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the shrieking of the wind outside.

“This never would have happened in that brand new building near the river that you would have been in if I hadn’t—” Henry began.

“Henry, don’t.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“None of this is your fault,” Gabriel said, staring hard at Jekyll. “I wouldn’t change my mind about living here with you for a moment.”

“I still wish that I could afford better.”

“And I wish your father wasn’t such an arse.”

Gabriel was pleased to see that Henry’s glum expression cracked into a small smile after that comment.

“Besides,” Gabriel said, “it’s really not unbearable when we’re both under these blankets together.”

Henry’s smile widened and cheeks grew a touch rosier. “That’s thermodynamics for you.”

“What now?”

“Thermodynamics,” Henry said, that small twinkle in his eye appearing as the topic turned to his favorite subjects. “Well, more like entropy, really. It’s when energy transfers from one thing to another as heat.”

“Oh.” “Entropy is neat because everything is always trying to reach thermal equilibrium. So, because you were warmer than I was under these blankets, your body is trying to warm up my body.”

Gabriel blushed. “That’s, uh—”

“Before, your body was just losing heat to the outside air, which was much cooler than your own temperature. Now that I’m here, and my temperature is maybe slightly warmer than the outside air, I’m helping you preserve more of that heat energy for yourself. Make sense?”

“Mmhmm,” Gabriel affirmed, suddenly unable to look at Henry without feeling flustered.

“And then a little friction should help too,” Henry said, teasing now as he started rubbing his hands rapidly over Gabriel’s shoulders, shaking him back and forth.

“Alright, alright, I get it, Chemist.”

“Well, thermodynamics is really more in the realm of physics—”

“A technicality. It’s all science stuff.”

“I thought little technicalities were important to Lawyers.”

Gabriel finally brought his gaze back to Henry’s and was filled with that comfortable fuzziness of seeing his friend looking so affectionately back at him.

“I guess what I’m trying to get at,” Henry said, glancing downward, “is that if we want to stay warm tonight, maybe it’s best if we stay close.”

Gabriel’s stomach flipped. “What? But—but how?”

“Well, I know it’s not ideal, but—” Henry started, his whole face blushing now.

“But?”

“But if we shared the same bed and used all of the blankets together, we’d probably avoid frostbite tonight.”

Gabriel gulped. Share a bed? Share an itty bitty single-person bed? With Henry? The two of them would have to be practically on top of each other!

“Do you really think—”

“I know it won’t be very comfortable at all, but—”

Gabriel’s mind began to wander to the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, Henry’s body beneath his--- his eyes flickered back up to Henry’s. “If it means surviving the night and being able to keep all of my fingers in the morning, I think we can manage.”

Henry gave him a shy smile in return. “I think we can manage. Just for a night.”

“There are plenty of worse people I could be doing this with, anyway,” Gabriel teased.

Henry laughed. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather explore entropy with.”

“God, Henry, when you say it like that—"

Both erupted into nervous giggles.

“Well—should we try to get some sleep then?” Henry offered. Gabriel felt his heart do a little skip as he nodded.

Neither of them bothered trying to clean up before going to sleep. They didn’t want to risk losing any of the warmth they had built up in their little blanket pile together. The two of them worked themselves into a position on Gabriel’s bed, which sat further from the very poorly insulated window than Henry’s. With Henry being the taller and broader of the two, and both a bit bulkier from all the sweaters, it was tricky finding a position where they could fit comfortably without Gabriel being cradled right up against his chest.

“Are you alright?” “Mmhmm.”

“Maybe if your arm goes—”

“Yeah.”

The two of them lay chest-to-chest, Gabriel just slightly on top of Henry, hands against his chest while his face rested in the crook of his friend’s neck. He felt the thrill of his heart fluttering in his chest, something he was all too cognizant of with Henry being oh-so close. He couldn’t deny how good it felt to be laying against him, the weight of a thick pile of blankets laying heavily over them both. Henry squirmed slightly underneath him.

“Do you mind if I--?” he asked, as he pulled his left arm, slightly trapped under Gabriel, out and instead draped it over his friend, resting it comfortably around his waist.

Gabriel blushed deeply, grateful that they had turned out the lights before laying down.

“Is this okay? If not, I can move,” Henry whispered.

“No, no, it’s perfectly fine. If I’m practically crushing you, you deserve to be as comfortable as possible,” he answered.

Henry sighed, and the two lay still for a moment.

“I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you. I know it’s weird, but—” Henry began.

“Henry, I’m alright,” Gabriel muttered, heart sinking. “Besides, there are plenty of worse people I could be with, remember?”

Henry chuckled. “Goodnight, Gabriel.”

“Goodnight, Henry.”

They grew quiet. The bit of Gabriel’s face that was exposed to the open air felt the chill of the room while the rest of him basked in the warmth of the little nest they had created together. Soon he became used to the gentle rhythm of Henry’s breathing as his friend quickly drifted off to sleep. Gabriel, however, wasn’t very tired at all.

It had been a little over a year now since Gabriel had realized his romantic feelings for Henry. He loved him, deeply, and was content to spend the rest of his days loving him as the best of friends if that was all Henry ever wanted. But there had been plenty of nights where the two laid separate in their own beds, Gabriel fantasizing about scenarios a bit too much like this one. He’d lay there, thoughts wandering to embarrassing places as Henry lay innocently on the other side of the room. He would never dare confess to these private desires and risk destroying his friendship with Henry, even though Gabriel had no idea how Henry would react if he ever did find out about his feelings. It’s not as though the topic of homosexuality had ever come up naturally…

A tiny part of him wanted to harbor hope. To hope that Henry cared for him too, that Henry could also—

Fear squandered that part of him though. Gabriel wasn’t one to let himself daydream like that for very long.

Still, here they were. And it had been Henry who had suggested cuddling to stay warm, hadn’t it? Did this even count as cuddling if it was utilitarian, the way he had tried to assure Henry that it was?

Cuddling or not, Gabriel couldn’t help but relish in this moment. It was almost perfect. He cherished the sound of Henry’s gentle breathing, his smell, the feel of Henry’s strong arms around him, the feeling of his chest beneath his hands…

It was around then that he felt Henry move beneath him. Henry sighed, pulled him closer, and –

Dear god. Had he felt Henry’s lips brushing against his forehead, or was he only imagining it? He could have sworn that it had felt like the softest, most delicate kiss.

Gabriel felt himself tense up and his breath catch. Surely that was an accident? A trick of the mind? Nothing but wishful thinking? It took all willpower he had inside of him to deny his instinct to snuggle closer to Henry, wrap his arms around him, kiss his neck, tangle their legs together—He felt his face grow hot and his breathing get shallower—mind exploring places that his hands would never dare. His heart was racing and surely, surely with how close they were, Henry must be able to feel it too?

A wicked thought sprung into his head, and before he had time to rationalize it away, Gabriel felt the devil seize his tongue.

“Henry, H-henry!” he whimpered.

Henry stirred and lifted his head just a little. “What is it?”

“I-I-I’m fr-freezing, please—”

“Come here, come here!” Henry pulled him still tighter to his chest and didn’t pause for a second when Gabriel threw his arms around him. Soon Gabriel could feel the firm pressure of Henry’s hand rubbing along his back, each movement sending his poor heart into a frenzy. A tiny part of him felt guilty deceiving him like this, tricking his friend into letting him delight in their bodies entangled together, indulging in his deepest fantasies.

Yet he had never, ever, felt so deliciously warm.

[meeko-mar]

Here's some pain;

Obviously this is way more fic fodder than an actual prediction of any sort,

What if, when Katsuki starts really going after Izuku do get through to him, and he gets Izuku pinned down...And Izuku still tries to get him to leave him alone.

What if he thinks that it will... drive Katsuki away to confess his feelings?

TW for feelings of internalized homophobia, and I guess perceived notions of homophobia?? Izuku is basically afraid of his feelings, as usual.

..

As part of the whole idea that he's suppressing, and sort of has internalized homophobia against his crush on Kacchan...So he assumes the logic that if he's afraid of his own feelings, Kacchan would probably be disgusted, enough to give up on him, to leave him. Or at least shatter his concentration enough for Izuku to escape. It will hurt, and it's his last resort, but if he wants Kacchan to keep his distance, he might have to just do it. Because he does love Kacchan and needs to keep him safe. (and he has tried literally everything else to get his classmates off him, to no avail)

So he screams it, right into Katsuki's face, because again, he's been pinned.

"Don't you get it?? I love you!! I always have!" He cries. "That's why I can't be near you!! My feelings are only going to get you killed!!" (he has related this to the rest of the class already, but this instance is specially for Katsuki, insert a mess of Izuku's emotions about Kacchan nearly dying for him once already)

But instead of disgust, and letting him go, Katsuki keeps a hold of him, and his eyes change. At first he is a bit blindsided, but quickly resumes his resolve.

"You...Asshole!!" Katsuki growls, also in Izuku's face. "So what, You want ME to have to Watch YOU fucking die instead cause you won't let anyone fucking help you?! Is that better? That's somehow ok?!"

"You fucking love me?? Bullshit!" (stay with me here)

"If you love me so fucking much, why don't you fucking act like it!! Why don't you think about how I feel watching you drive yourself into an early fucking grave like everyone who came before you!?"

His fists clench tighter around Izuku's tattered costume as tears start streaming down his own cheeks in the rain.

"What about how I feel about you, huh!? You think you're too good to wanna stick around long enough to find out??"

Izuku is obviously SHOOK(his ploy didn't work?? Kacchan isn't rejecting him?? Or is he?? What is happening here, he did not account for this response...)

Eventually they manage to wrangle him up. Take him home.

Katsuki hovers as he heals, making sure he doesn't bolt again. He seems to be looking at him with brand new eyes, though Izuku knows he's being considered a flight risk and thinks that might be the soul reason... but also there seems to be another new context to the look of those red eyes.

They have conversations, calmer, but they still skirt around *those feelings*, pretty awkwardly. The whole class can tell what's going on, too(I imagine that they at least heard the tail end of when Katsuki was yelling at Izuku about it)

Anyway, Izuku reluctantly...very reluctantly, agrees to work with UA and his friends. With many, many discussions that pretty much amount to Intervention and THERAPY talks with all involved(and after a lot of rest to get into a better mindset), he realizes how terribly they were worried about him, and are still worried. And eventually, that it's not fair to shut them all out when they are trained as much as he is and deciding for themselves to be involved.

He still doesn't like it, he is still terrified...He still believes/knows he's got to keep searching for AFO...but now accepts that his friends are going to try to help no matter what he says and accepts their help, accepts Katsuki's help. AM comes back and they make up, and AM ALSO tells him to make sure he's ok before taking care of everyone else again.

As Izuku slowly adapts to having a home base and becomes less of a flight-risk, Katsuki's still always lingering in the background, or acting by his side, like his right-hand man. I think once more paralleling the Second watching over Yoichi.

Izuku honestly can't tell what Katsuki actually thinks about the whole love confession, and he's actually afraid to ask and open that pandora's box again. So for a while he acts like it didn't happen. It all feels surreal and like it could have all been a panic-induced fever dream for all he knows.

But, unbeknownst to Izuku, the reason Katsuki isn't really saying anything is because he's actually kind of assessing his own feelings. He knows he cares deeply about Izuku... but is it love, is it THAT kind of love? Can he properly even return those feelings, does he deserve to?? And then again, he's ALSO questioning if Izuku was genuine about his love confession or if it was some sort of fake out to get him to leave him alone or shock him. And if it was, he'd feel really stupid and pretty hurt if he came to confess only to be rejected by Izuku. (which, might happen anyway, because Izuku's still terrified that his love is going to get Katsuki killed)

Anyway, he's read Izuku horribly wrong in the past before, so he wants to really make sure he's reading the signals right.

The kids in their class, while obviously occupied with patrols, the ongoing tension of AFO lurking out there, communicating with the Heroes and the International reinforcements, etc etc, are absolutely AGGRAVATED by these two dancing around the issue, and for not giving all of the tea-seeking kids of their group closure after that dramatic day where they had fought Izuku and the two of them had SCREAMED at each other about feelings. (again)

Like even Ochako tries to (gently) get the truth out of Izuku cause she knows how crazy it can be to have a crush when you're preoccupied with saving the world.

Maybe one night Katsuki and Izuku are out, I'm thinking high up where they can see UA grounds...Maybe the roof of the building? Perhaps doing a look-out patrol.

And they start TALKING.

Katsuki straight up starts the conversation because he knows, and we all know, that Izuku would be tight-lipped about it still. He just straight up says "So are you ever going to tell me what the hell you meant that day?"

Izuku FREEZES, but he decides he's probably avoided this for long enough...can't put it off forever.

Katsuki looks at Izuku and finds him looking so, so insecure, confused, and grimacing with a blush as he looked away.

"Oi, Deku." He startles Izuku, "Were you....Were you lying to me?"

Izuku looks so bewildered by Katsuki's new tone. There's a hint of insecurity in his voice

"Sorry--I'm sorry... I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have said it like that," Izuku fumbles with the words. "I used those words to try to push you away...I thought you'd hate me, and if I could get you to hate me, you'd let me go, and I was so scared, and it was a really really desperate strategy..." he's doing his trademark muttering by now as panic sets in.

Katsuki steps closer, eyes burning with intensity as he looms over him. "But was it a lie."

"It was the wrong moment, for the wrong reason...But..." Izuku sucks in breath and feels his heart hammering. Forces himself to meet his eyes with Katsuki's. "It wasn't a lie."

Katsuki's eyes widen, and they both kind of stall in the moment as it all settles in and the wind blows between them.

"I'm sorry," Izuku blurts, and blushes furiously, starting to turn away. "I shouldn't have pushed this on you," He's giving in to his instinct to bolt.

Katsuki catches him by the wrist. Izuku turns, and meets Katsuki's smoldering eyes again. "Don't you go running off without hearing what I think again, damn nerd. Last time it nearly got you killed."

He runs a hand through is hair and looks away, and by now is also blushing. "Dammit. I'm still trying to figure out how to be around you. I'm still trying to relearn how to be your friend...At least, a friend who's actually worth a shit."

Izuku nods quietly, they've also had their discussion on their past/Katsuki's apologies by now, so Izuku is understanding of where Katsuki's feelings are coming from.

"And...Deku, you dumbass, why would I hate you for that??" Katsuki glares. Izuku flinches a bit.

"Well I..." Izuku mumbles. "It's obvious, right? I thought you'd be grossed out... I'm not a...Neither one of us is..."

"Not what, a girl!?" Katsuki scoffs. "Since when does that fucking matter?? You don't decide what the Hell grosses me out, Deku. " Izuku looks at him, SHOCKED, but his eyes shining.

The hand that has him by the wrist squeezes just gently, and feels really warm.

Katsuki sighs, and looks downward. "As long as you're not lying to me about something like that. Don't ever fucking lie about this kinda shit."

He finally looks at Izuku again, eyes large and shining. His hand pulls Izuku forward just gently.

"I don't know...Fuck...Give me time...Okay? There's still a lot I gotta do before I can..." He cuts off, still blushing and wrestling with the emotions. but the remaining words 'before I can say it back' basically hang, unsaid, in the air between them.

"But you gotta promise me you won't go and get your stupid ass killed before I get the chance, got it, nerd?!" Katsuki adds hastily.

Izuku feels his eyes start to burn as the warmth wells up inside him, and a smile spreads across his glowing face. He laughs a bit, feeling the nerves bubbling over, paired with a sudden sort of relief. Kacchan doesn't hate him for what he said, and even might return the feeling. What a good feeling. The best thing in a while. If not all the more terrifying.

"Okay, Kacchan" Katsuki blushes at how stupidly cute it looks for the light to be returning to Izuku's eyes, and that dumb smile lighting up freckled cheeks...Something that the Katsuki of a few weeks ago would have given anything in the world to see, right there in front of him.

Feeling the urge to bring back their previous mood, Katsuki grunts some sort of quasi-insult, like, "Don't get any more weird, backwards ideas like that, Deku. I'll kick your ass."

Izuku laughs again, But then suddenly, everything is ruined; A massive jolt to his head strikes him and he suddenly withdraws his hands from Katsuki, clutching his head and doubling over.

Danger Sense.

"Deku! Hey!" Katsuki grips him by the shoulders(partially in panic that Izuku might fly off by instinct without second thought to a plan of any sort, like old habits) "What is it!?"

Katsuki's legitimately scared as Izuku sinks to his knees; Izuku's had Danger Sense pings while staying within the walls of UA to heal before(that they had to CONVINCE him not to pay attention to, or rather send one of the other students out in his stead), but nothing this obviously severe.

Little Brother, The voice rings in Izuku's head again, and his blood runs cold.

Gritting his teeth, Izuku's eyes then shoot open, and look with terror to the horizon;

"It's him...He's coming..."

---

sorry this was long. probably imperfect.

but I had to get it out of my head.

And then somewhere in or in the aftermath of the final battle they actually share a kiss and Katsuki says it back. It's nice.

I really think, Katsuki would probably legit have few hang-ups about being gay, his attitude is "don't fake who you are or how you feel", Mr. "can't even fake it to survive a kidnapping encounter with villains and would rather try to explode them all even though he's outnumbered". He'd be like, "what, you like boys? fine, then, what's the problem?! Like boys all you want!"

In this scenario I think he's way more concerned over if he's a worthy partner for Izuku, or if he's able to reciprocate, rather than "am I actually gay and if so what does that mean"

And as of 320, let me just say that Izuku is SO FRIGGIN SCARED, it breaks my heart. Like he's legit terrified and I think our suspicions that he was deeply deeply traumatized by the war arc are exactly on the money. the line "AFO is going to take you all away from me" while flashing back to the losses in the war including Kacchan....JUST SHOOT ME, IT MIGHT BE LESS PAINFUL.

Can't wait for the main UA kids(IE, his closer friend circles) to have their turn trying to wrangle Izuku up.

Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you liked this.

[bybdolan]

i can't find your ramblings on swifties, but I'd love to read it if you want to elaborate here, or screen shot it? i feel like it's been building since the yntcd mv to miss americana doc period of time. the disappointment of her aligning herself as lgbt in the mv, the song comparing her haters to suffering homophobia, the lack of blm effort after her apparent political awakening... that development was when i started to notice it on tumblr, at least

The word "ramble" was maybe a bit overstated, given that it was more or less just me pointing out that it's a thing that happens, but I am very glad you are asking me this because I have a lot of thoughts! If nobody else will write an essay on this, it might as well be me.

I think the groundwork for the fandom crumbling was already laid in rep era – not because of anything Taylor did, but because of the fandom: Every small criticism of Taylor was called "hate" and I think the idea of "good" vs "bad" fan really developed during that time. And the protectiveness makes sense after everything that happened during 2016 and it only increased after Taylor went more in-depth on her mental health struggles during Lover promo, but it also created a big divide in the fandom and made it a fairly hostile place.

Speaking of Lover: I agree with you that that was the era where a lot of people fell out of love with her a bit. From the lead single to whatever YNTCD was, to her "political awakening" shtick: There were a lot of things going on in that era that people found questionable, and this lack of general hype for the album led to even more fandom fights (I will keep bringing up the fandom because I think it's an extension of the artist and very connected to how we view them). I think what you said about the political aspects of that era is 100% accurate – it's ironic that fans critizised her more for little political action after Miss Americana than most of them did when she wasn't political at all, but it also makes sense: if you make being politically outspoken a huge part of your marketing and therefore profit off of it and then don't do much in that regard, people are going to call bullshit. To be fair to her: She didn't do nothing and a celebrity of her caliber has to rethink every move in that regard, but I think the frustration is justified, ESPECIALLY when Taylor is quick to tweet about problems concerning herself (see: that Ginny and Georgia tweet, which I don't want to talk about much because it makes me sigh – but as a side note: The fandom can be vicious and racist and homophobic and I think Taylor not commenting on that has upset people). And what I said about celebrities rethinking every move gets a bit sour to me when remembering that she is in a movie with that O'Russell guy. Very defensive fans have a point when they say that people expect a lot from Taylor, and obviously she can't be perfect, but Taylor did feed into those expectations when making a documentary about not feeling muzzled anymore etc. (There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen.) A rich white lady shouldn't necessarily be looked at for political guidance, however, she has power and her using her voice has proven to be very effective, and I think fans are disappointed she doesn't use it more often (+ for causes not benefiting herself).

Which brings us to her "capitalist girlboss agenda" that some people take issue with and that I already touched on: Taylor is very proud of her marketing strategies and knowing how to make money. She loves being a businesswoman, and it is admirable that she has been so active in her own management since she was very young, but it's something that clashes with her authenticity and accessibility a lot of fans cherish. I think we all know why she cut out her fan interactions and I personally think it is for the better, however, the tactics that took the place of those interactions are a bit "uuuh" to many. I think this is also where the generation gap of the fandom comes in: Taylor has fans her age that grew up with her, but she also has very young fans and the marketing strategies aimed at the latter don't necessarily go over well with the former. But this just as a side note. I think the introduction of Easter Eggs is a noteworthy moment in fandom history given how big of a part they now play in interacting with Taylor. And it's a fun idea, but there is the issue of the fandom taking it very far and Easter Eggs not leading to anything (1989 TV says hi). It's frustrating to many to not know when a single or an album will be released, and it is tiring to not be able to view anything she posts normally because most likely, it's a hint to something, or at least fans will act like it is. Fans are always used to drive up sales and engagement, as are personal instagram posts, but it is jarring to see it become so overt. I do genuinely believe the Easter Eggs were supposed to be fun for the fans at first, as are the vault thingies, but with the level of marketing and self-mythologization attached to it, it feels cold and sterile. Add that to the insanely high prices for boring merch and debacles like the "digitally signed" CD and you have yourself a recipe for fan disappointment. Taylor has branded herself as her fans' best friend for long, and because she is quirky and weird and often not too polished it worked – but it's not what she wants anymore, and she deserves nothing more than her privacy, but a fan used to genuine engagement with her is going to be taken aback by the new marketing strategies. There ARE ways to be private while still feeling personal in your branding (see Lorde's emails) but Taylor's team didn't want to go down that route apparently.

With all that being said: Taylor's happiness and her being content with her life is more important than whatever I get out of her and her music, and she remains one of the greatest songwriters of our generation – nobody can take that away. And I am sure that many fans will roll their eyes at this post because they still love her like they did when they first discovered her, and I am very happy for them and happy that Taylor has fans that loyal, but this post serves as an attempt to analyse shifts in the fandom that I have noticed over the past few years. I also think it's worth noting that once you start focusing on the negative aspects of something those negative things start jumping out to you, and it's important to maybe step back and focus on the good aspects once in a while – a lot of which I didn't mention because this is not what this post is about. But they are there, and I think the love for Taylor's music can easily sustain even when interest in her as a person fades.

[chaoticallysapphic]

slippin’ through my fingers

summary: three times Lin should have spoken up and the one time she finally does.

a/n: this one shot does feature a bit of homophobia along with an abusive relationship, please don’t read if either of those things triggers you. Also there is mildy explicit tones in the earlier parts of this but it sticks to being PG-13

word count: 4k

“Lin slow down!” You scream which only causes her grin to widen. You tighten your arms around her waist and bury your face in her back, she can faintly hear you cursing her out over the wind as she speeds past automobiles on her brand new motorcycle. She’d gotten it for her seventeenth birthday and immediately convinced you to go for a ride with her, it took some begging but finally, you caved after saying she owed you a piece of cake in return. 

She revs her cycle and heads out of the city, to a spot on the outskirts overlooking the ocean, she’d found it the other day with Suyin and knew how much you’d appreciate it. When she turns a corner a little sharper than the rest you let out a terrified scream that has her laughing so hard it hurts her cheeks, but almost immediately she chokes on that laughter as you bury your face in her neck this time instead of her back. Suddenly she feels stiff, nervous even, having you this close was a bad idea. 

Lin had been feeling weird towards you lately, she’d chalked it up to growing up but the other night she woke up from her dream drenched in sweat as she vaguely remembered sliding her hands up your bare thighs as you begged her to stop being a tease. Technically it was from growing up, just… a different kind. 

Thankfully they finally pull up to the spot and she kills the engine before kicking the stand into place, hesitantly you pull your face away from her neck, just a few inches and now she feels your breath tickle the skin behind her ear. Lin was screwed. 

“Oh wow, Lin…” You breathe out after finally detaching yourself from her, you stand up and adjust your rumpled clothes before taking off your helmet. Your hair falls out in a glorious heap and Lin has to pull her gaze away from you because the sun is hitting you just right and she won’t last long if this continues. 

You grab onto her hand and pull her to the cliff edge where you carefully sit down so your feet can dangle off of it. Lin sits beside you but makes sure there’s a decent distance between the two of you, you furrow your brows at her actions and scoot closer so your thighs are touching. It’s like you want to torture her. 

“You like it?” she asks softly, she’s worried you won’t all of the sudden. You are from a very aristocratic family and you’ve probably seen better things, but you erase all her worries when you smile softly and say so quietly the wind almost carries it away “Yeah, I do.” 

“Can I tell you a secret?” you ask hesitantly, your fiddling with your nails as you stare down at your lap. You’re nervous. 

“You can tell me anything, y/n.” 

“I don’t like men” you whisper, going completely still as you wait for her reply. Lin laughs, “no one likes men y/n, we just tolerate them.” 

“No like romantically I don’t.” Your shoulders sag and you finally chance a glance in her direction, Lin’s quiet now, her laughter has stopped and she doesn’t know what to say, are you somehow aware of her dream? Is this a joke? “I kissed Tenzin recently, not because there’s feelings but I asked him if he would and I think he was just excited to have his first kiss… It felt gross and wrong.” 

“Well Tenzin’s one man,” Lin says, “and he’s hardly even a man at that.” You snort, one of your hands going up to cover your mouth, you’re insecure about that, but now that Lin is thinking about it, it’s kind of cute. 

“I’ve kissed other guys Lin. Some of the girls at my school mentioned having dreams… “ you flush, “sexual kinds about guys and I’ve never had those. They even listed off a bunch of stuff guys do that they think is hot and I just kept picturing women doing it.” 

You knock the wind out of Lin at that, she’s had some thoughts towards guys before now that she thinks about it, desires, but none of them have been as intense as her current desire for you is. It’s tense between the two of you as you wait for her to reply. “Can you please say something?” you beg. 

I think your really pretty and I’d like to hold your hand and kiss you goodnight

“Nothings wrong with liking girls, y/n,” Lin says instead, you look a little relieved yet disappointed. 

———————————————————————————————————- 

Breaking news! Mrs. y/l/n of y/l/n industry has fallen ill! Her immediate family has not given any statements but a close source says it’s any minute until she departs this world.

———————————————————————————————————-   

When you open your bedroom door for Lin she notices how pale you look, she leaves work as soon as possible after hearing the news through the radio stationed in the main office of the station. “Y/n, I am so s-” before she continues you launch yourself into her arms and cry, she pulls you in close and stays silent, letting you get it out of your system. 

You lost your dad when you were ten, your mom is the only parent you have left and she knows it’ll be hard when she passes, especially since you’ll have to take over the family company. You pull her into your room and kick the door shut with your foot, still gripping her tightly. 

“She’s gonna die Lin” you choke out between sobs and Lin’s heartbreaks. It’s been three years since she realized her feelings for you and every day since she’s wanted to take your face in her hands and kiss you until you both run out of breath. She’s even had to distance herself from you a bit, you guys used to see each other every day but now it’s once a week if you’re lucky. 

When Lin became a cop you’d always waltz in around lunch in one of your beautiful dresses that stopped mid-thigh, you had tights on underneath but she knew your mom still gave you hell for your daily attire. You are always holding two cups of tea along with a paper bag being dangled between your fingers that always had something incredibly delicious inside. 

The day that Lin realized you couldn’t come by anymore you’d brought donuts along with sandwiches for the two of you to eat. The glaze of the donut had dripped down the side of your hand and onto your wrist, instead of using a napkin you simply licked it up with your tongue. Once you left she stumbled her way to the gym and tried to take out her sexual frustration in another way. 

That night she called and said she was told it was unprofessional for you to keep visiting, she could tell through the phone how disappointed you were, but you didn’t want to get her in trouble so you stopped showing up. One of her coworkers made a joke that the first day you didn’t stop by “hey Lin, where’s that lover of yours?” Her face flushed a deep red and she taught him and the others to never talk about you again. 

“You won’t be alone, you’ll have me… a-and Tenzin, Bumi likes to come to your birthday parties so you have him too,” she says, a weak chuckle escapes you as you finally pull away from her and wipe at your eyes. 

“I’ll never be alone again,” you say cryptically and walk over to the deep green velvet couch stationed underneath a wide window overlooking the city. 

“What do you mean?” Lin sits down beside you. You lean your arms against the back of the couch and look out the window, a deep frown has found its home on your lips and more tears escape the corners of your eyes. 

“My mom’s dying wish is for me to marry,” you say softly. Lin’s eyes widen and before she can ask any questions, you beat her to it. “She’s already picked him out, her assistant is planning it as we speak.” 

“Him?” she all but spits out, unable to control herself. You flinch at the tone of her voice and drop your forehead to rest on the soft velvet. 

“She’d never let me marry a woman, Lin.” you murmur, “she wants me to keep the perfect image she’s created of me, I can’t break it, that might just kill her before her sickness does.” 

“But you’ll never love him, does she not know this?” Lin demands, her mind is racing with a million images of you in some man’s arms and suddenly she wants to destroy everything in sight. 

“I’ve never told her about my… attractions. She thinks it’s wrong and read it can be fixed with some kind of medicine that’s being sold in the black market in Ba Sing Se.” You look up finally and meet Lin’s gaze, suddenly her anger dissipates as she looks into your eyes and sees how truly devastated you are. 

She tries to calm herself down and pulls you into her arms where you begin to weep. Your hand clutches the front of her shirt so tightly Lin’s sure you might just rip it. She once dreamed of you two getting married, it was before her fight with her family and she even put on a dress to make you smile, which you did. Before your lips touched after saying ‘I do’ she whispered against your lips “I love you Mrs. Beifong” and you flushed a deep red before pulling her into a breathtakingly passionate kiss that had someone in the crowd, most likely Bumi or Suyin, whistling. 

“I’ve never even kissed a girl” you croak out, your head resting on Lin’s shoulder. You’ve cried out all the tears in your system for now and your eyes are puffy. Her hand that was soothingly running through your hair stills at your words. Truthfully, neither has she. 

“Would you- do you want to?” Lin asks and instantly she regrets it. You pull away from her shoulder, her hand dropping onto the back of the couch as you stare into her eyes. 

“W-With you?” Your eyes are wide and cheeks a deep red, your still close and Lin takes that as a good sign. All she can do is nod and some kind of strange sound comes out of you that makes her stomach clench. “I… “ you rub the back of your neck, “would like that a lot.” 

For a minute, maybe two, neither of you move. You’re the first to break as you lean closer to Lin which helps give her the courage to lean into you until your lips are a breath apart. You’re shaking like a leaf so Lin places one of her hands on your shoulder to help ground you before pressing her lips against yours. That same sound from before escapes you, it’s some kind of desperate low moan and Lin brings her other hand to rest on the back of your head to bring you even closer. 

Lin tugs at your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from you as you happily open your mouth for her and something within her stirs, awakens at the sounds. 

You crawl onto Lin’s lap and place a leg on either side of her hips, it’s like her dreams but it’s so much better which is confirmed by the hand that slips up her shirt to grip her bare hip. Lin lets out a guttural sound and pulls away, you let out a breathy sigh as Lin’s lips reattach themselves onto your jaw and make a slow, wet trail down to the base of your neck. 

“Lin” you moan and she’s officially decided that she can die happy now, if she must live any longer her name on your lips is all she wants to hear. You lose yourselves in each other and eventually stumble to your canopy bed that’s across the room. 

It’s the best thing Lin’s ever done, she makes sure to touch you everywhere she possibly can and kisses you there too. If she were ever to become religious you’d be her goddess and your body the temple that she’d worship every single day. 

The sun has set by the time you two have calmed down and Lin holds you in her arms as you lay your head on her bare shoulder. Her thumb traces circles on your stomach as she whispers “we could run away.” 

“You know I can’t Lin, she’s all I have.” 

You have me

———————————————————————————————————–

The media representative for the Y/L/N family says y/n and Chao have just welcomed their first child, a healthy baby girl, only ten months after their wedding! I think we all know what that honeymo- Lin rips her radio out of the socket and throws it against the wall.

———————————————————————————————————–

Never once has Lin dreaded standing on these steps until today, a call was made late last night whilst she was asleep about a break-in at the Y/L/N family estate, an attempt was made on your life and due to the high profile of your family Lin along with five officers have to come to your home to make sure its a secure and get statements. 

One of her best detectives knocks on the grand mahogany door for her and a male servant opens it up “thank you for coming so quickly” he says and ushers them inside. Another servant, also a male, offers them tea to which they all, besides officer Liu who began to ask for a cup of oolong before Lin gently jabs him in the stomach to shut up, politely decline. 

“We’ll split up, Liu and Cho, I want you to secure the perimeter, apparently the perpetrators entered through the west wing. The rest of you along with myse-” 

“Chief Beifong, Lady Y/L/N asked if she could talk to you privately about last night” one of the servants interrupts her in some uppity tone that makes her roll her eyes. What could you want? 

“Fine, the rest of you interview everyone who was working here yesterday whilst I get a statement from Mrs. Y/L/N” Lin has to try her hardest not to spit out the word ‘Mrs’ but ultimately fails seeing as her officers look terrified now and all scurry off to do their respective tasks. 

Someone leads her up the stairs and down the left hall, to what Lin remembers being your mother’s sitting room. The servant opens the door for Lin and says to whom she can only assume is you, “Chief Beifong.” He leaves and Lin reluctantly takes a step inside. 

She’s seen photographs of you in the papers, your family has always been one the media adores but it’s still shocking to be face to face with you. After your wedding, Lin stopped returning your calls or letters, after a month you gave up much to Lin’s chagrin. Part of her wanted you to go to the ends of the earth for her like she would for you. 

Your features have matured a bit over the past three years and you’re dressed in a floor-length hanbok instead of your showy dresses. There’s a massive bruise around your throat that makes her anger dissipate as worry sets in. She clears her throat which snaps you out of your reverie and says “So, what can you tell me about last night?” 

Your brows pinch together and you frown, you look hurt at her tone of indifference. She tries to not let it bother her. You turn your back on her and go to sit at one of the elaborately designed couches. It’s heinous and so not you. “You can sit, y’know.” 

“I’m fine right here, now I need to know anything you can remember about last night to help me keep you… your family safe.” Your shoulders sag and you sigh. 

“I don’t know much, I think they wanted to kill me… one of the men kind of looked familiar though” your hand comes up to your throat and hovers over the nasty bruise. Lin decides she should probably sit down, if you’re going to continue and if it gets any worse then that she might just fall to her knees. 

“Where do you remember seeing the man?” she asks, your eyes flicker around the room. “He used to work for mom.” 

“But he isn’t currently employed by your family?” She pulls out her small notebook meant for things like this and starts to write down about a possible suspect. 

“No, he quit after the wedding, I don’t remember his name but his eyes were so… blue.” That unfortunately isn’t much help, Lin sighs, trying not to flinch when you mention that day. You stand up from your couch and sit on the one Lin settled on, she tenses up but you make sure to sit on the opposite end. “I want to divorce him, Lin.” 

“That’s irreleva-” 

“I’ve never loved him, please. H-He knows about… me. He found out a month after the wedding and fired all our female employees, he doesn’t like me alone with women. Lin, I want to leave him” you plead softly, as if someone may hear. 

“Then leave him, I don’t understand why you feel the need to tell me” she grumbles. You lean a bit closer to her but make sure not to get too close. 

“He has my family assets, I-I don’t think I can do it alone. Lin Please” you beg and at that she looks up and into your eyes. Your eyes are brimming with tears and you grip the fabric of your hanbok tightly. 

“What about Annchi?” Tenzin had told Lin about your daughter one time, he mentioned how he met her a few months after her birth but you stopped talking to him shortly after. 

“I’d take her with me, please, tomorrow at dusk meet me at that spot you took me to on your birthday, our spot, please.” Before Lin can respond the door to the sitting room slams open and in steps your husband, following him is the same servant who guided Lin here. “Sir I am so sorry. I’m new and I-I di-” 

Chao sighs and looks over his shoulder “It’s fine, but next time lady Y/L/N needs a guard with her, it’s far too dangerous right now, especially in her condition.” You quickly wipe away your tears and stand, he opens his arms for you and you reluctantly step inside of them. “Chief Beifong, you’re a childhood friend of my wives, yes?”

He offers her a wide grin that unsettles her, “yes, we went to grade school together.” Lin stands as well and puts her notepad away along with her pen. 

“Well I’m shocked to have not met you before today, Y/N why wasn’t she at the wedding?” he pecks you on your cheek and you look up at him with a small, almost defeated smile. 

“I believe she was busy, honey. She does have a time-consuming job” you reply smoothly, you set a hand on his chest and Lin feels like she’s been subjected to one of her worst nightmares. “Well that is to bad, y’know we do have another monumental par-” 

“I don’t think she’d want to come to that Cha-” you hastily reply but Chao chuckles and interrupts you. 

“Why not? Do you not want your friend at the baby shower? It’ll make up for lost time.” You look down at your feet as he brings you even closer. Lin feels like she’s been submerged into the North Pole’s canals and her heart has most definitely stopped beating. Are you pregnant again?  

“I need to get back to the station, I want to try and find the awful men who broke in yesterday as fast as possible,” she says and hastily leaves the sitting room, she bounds down the stairs as fast as she can without tripping and slams the front door open so she can get out of there, out of eyesight and away from him, from you. She doesn’t wait for her officers to finish up, instead, she mounts her motorcycle and speeds off.

The next day she reluctantly takes herself to your spot, she brought a car instead of a motorcycle since you said you’d be bringing Annchi. She doesn’t know if she can look at your daughter without breaking down, but she’ll try her hardest for you.

It’s ten o’clock when Lin gives up on waiting, she slams her car door shut and drives home, she’s pretty sure she broke at least three traffic laws but she’s too consumed in her thoughts to care.

It’s three days later that she sees you again, you stop by the station with two bodyguards in tow, you’re wearing another elegant hanbok and an officer brings you into Lin’s office, claiming if anyone just knocks they’ll get yelled at for it. The guards come into her office with you and it’s a bit cramped with the four of you. 

“My husband found the men, he wanted me to come to tell you we’re safe now and to thank you for stopping by,” you say softly, Lin’s brows pinch together, you won’t look her in the eyes. “I also wanted to let you know that I was a bit hysterical the other day due to fear and my hormones, but thank you for lending an ear.” 

What? Lin looks between the two guards and then at you, you very subtly shake your head. 

“Mrs. Y/L/N the men should be brought into the station, they are criminals and need to be apprehended” Lin stands from her chair. 

Give me a sign, anything, show me you meant to be there at dusk. Give me something, please.

You nod and make to leave but one of the guards lays his hand on your shoulder “Lady Y/L/N, aren’t you forgetting something?” he asks, Lin looks him over and her heart stops as she looks into his eyes ‘his eyes were so blue’ you’d said. You pull out a small, golden envelope and hand it to her before disappearing with your guards stalking behind you. 

I still love you.

Lin rips open the envelope and inside is an invitation to your baby shower which is set a few months from now. 

———————————————————————————————————–

I am here to report sad news today, Republic City, Chao Y/L/N was found dead this morning. He peacefully passed away in his sleep and is survived by his wife, Y/N Y/L/N, and his two children, Annchi, who is sixteen, and his son Han who is thirteen. Please send them your condolences as they go through this hard time. 

———————————————————————————————————–

Lin is sent a letter two days after the announcement regarding your husband, it’s from you, she’d never forgotten your handwriting, asking her to meet you at your spot, at dusk once more. She wants to burn the letter and not show up, but she’s weak when it comes to you and caves at the last second, she drives there, her heart racing at the idea of seeing you once more. 

When Lin pulls up an hour has passed since dusk but you’re still sitting there, waiting for her. You’re wearing a pair of pants with a shirt tucked in and an overcoat to help with the fall breeze and you seem a bit lighter than last time she saw you. 

Shortly after she got the invitation for your baby shower the servant from the day she stopped by, the one who showed her to the sitting room, had knocked on her apartment door with a letter gripped in his shaking hand. Lin took it from him and slammed the door on his face before opening it up. 

“I can’t go through with it anymore, I just got confused when I saw your face again. I’m happy here.” 

She had spent that night curled up on top of her covers crying as she remembered every little thing about you and your time together. She’ll die alone, she thought, because no one could ever beat you. 

“Hi,” your voice is like honey and she has to squeeze her eyes shut to keep from giving in to it and getting trapped once more, “I wanted to… I wanted to explain somethings.” 

“Then explain” she replies plainly and you wring your hands out in front of you as you try to find the right words. 

“I was gonna show up, Lin… but he figured it out and threatened to keep Annchi from me, he showed me these papers, they were lies but it was all incriminating and would have been used against me in court…” You let out a shaky, uneven breath as you try to remain calm and not cry. “I’ve spent the last eleven years envisioning if I had successfully run away with you and Annchi and each time I have to stop myself before it gets too painful.” 

“And the letter?” she replies harshly, your brows furrow in confusion. “What letter?” 

Lin scoffs, is she so unimportant that you just forgot? “The letter y/n, stating that you were just confused, are you lying to me now or were you lying to me then?” 

“You think I’d write something like that? Lin, he never let me write letters to people, whatever you received was not from me!” You shout out, you look so hurt and her head is swirling in confusion, it was fake?

Suddenly it all makes sense, you seemed so desperate to leave, and then you called it all off with a flick of your wrist. You knew Lin was a bit insecure and she was so hurt when you stood her up, but all along you didn’t want to. You were getting ready to meet her that night. You take a hesitant step towards Lin, then another and another until you’re in front her, only two paces away. 

“That night, when we were younger, it was the best night of my life, Lin. After you left in the morning I couldn’t stop crying, everyone tried to comfort me because they thought it was about my mom and I felt even worse because… because the pain of knowing I destroyed our chance hurt more.” 

“Do you still… care about me?” Lin asks, part of her wants to take the question back but she keeps her ground and waits for an answer. Your head flies up in surprise as you stare into her eyes. 

“Lin… I’ve never stopped loving you, the maids on my wedding day kept having to dry my tears in the dressing room because I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how badly I messed up.” Her eyes widen at your confession, love? Do you love her? Even now you love her despite all those years apart and you still love her. Everything regarding you seemed so unachievable her whole life but now it’s within reach and Lin feels her throat constricting, she doesn’t know what to do or say. 

It’s different then her dreams, there aren’t any consequences in her dreams or chances of you changing your mind. She’s worried if she pulls you in for a kiss like she wants to right now you might just take back your words and break her heart again.

You take her silence as an answer and take a step back, you rip your gaze from hers as you feel your heart crack. Spirits you’re so embarrassed, you had assumed she knew about your feelings and had always hoped she reciprocated them, all the signs pointed to yes but maybe you read into them too much. 

“I’m sorry” you mutter before going to leave, you walk towards your car with your head down and as you go to open the car door Lin puts her hand on it to stop you, you’re trapped now between the car and her, and you don’t know what to do. 

You don’t lift your head up so Lin gently grasps your chin and tilts it up so she can look into your eyes once more. “I love you too,” she leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss that makes you feel twenty again. You feel light headed as she leans you gently against the car, as if you’ll break if she’s to rough.

You wrap your arms around her neck and pull her closer to you, so long has she been out of your grasp, you don’t know if you’ll ever let her go again but you don’t think she’ll mind.

[leia-imogen]

aaron & the family he's found all by himself; vol. 2 // vol. 1

( ft. short jokes, a belated birthday shopping trip, & an ultra-chaotic winter break )

( for @criswisstuff & anyone who enjoyed the first one <3 )

savannah, who is 5'9, is constantly teasing aaron and cleo for being short. katelyn's good at 5'6, and also a bit impossible to tease bcs she's the actual best, so she gets to escape this

cleo ( 5'2 ) is perfectly delighted to have someone shorter than her for once in her life, even by only 2 inches

aaron: guys, just try and see this from my point of view

sav: [ collapses ]

katelyn: [ crouches down ]

cleo: [ sits cross-legged on floor ]

aaron: dude you're literally 2 inches taller than me

cleo: 2 and a quarter

sav is so smug about this but in a good-natured way, in that she and cleo call aaron "kid" or "kiddo" or "pipsqueak" and he doesn't mind bcs they always say it w such a huge smile and he likes to respond to sav with "how's the weather up there, tall-ass?"

and katelyn thinks it's ridiculously adorable how tiny aaron is and obviously she uses him as an armrest all the time

katelyn, petting aaron's hair: guys guys omg he's like an angsty mini blond kitten and i would kill for him <3

sav, popping up between them: mini-yard :))

before i get super distracted, i just wanna mention that aaron met sav and cleo towards the end of november, so they missed the twin's birthday

but sav still insists that she must take him shopping bcs sure his fashion sense is fine but there's always room for improvement, isn't there, aaron??

he relents, so long as she and cleo and katelyn ( who already gave him a birthday present?? why's she doing this??? ) don't spend too much money

sav drags him all around south carolina to the best thrift stores she can find and cleo and katelyn are amazed that she can get such fantastic deals on the supermodel clothes she wears

fr she's literally a fashion design major ( + minoring in business management ) and she shows up to class in skilfully done drugstore makeup and an absolutely killer outfit for like 15 bucks

she grew up poor, and she's still poor now, even if she ( thankfully ) managed to scrape a cheerleading scholarship

sav, flicking through a rack of dresses labelled $4 apiece: RIP to little miss rich bitch reynolds but i'm different ;)

no hate to allison she's awesome but she grew up in the lap of luxury surrounded by designer brands so she knows NOTHING about thrifting and rationing money in general

oh and sav and allison have kind of a frenemies thing going on bcs they're both fighting for the top spot of their fashion design course

they spend the whole day shopping and aaron ends up with a highly upgraded wardrobe that contains a lot of cute pastel stuff and sav's promise to do his makeup

aaron insists on paying for dinner at the really nice pizza place a short drive from campus even tho they all protest

and andrew knows he's found new friends, but has no idea that it's the vixens and he's dating one of them. nicky does tho, but he's sworn to secrecy

nicky thinks his new clothes are adorable and is stunned when aaron tells him the total cost

"oh my GOD that girl sounds like a genius."

"yeah, her name's sav. you guys,, would get along, i think."

okay now for the winter break part!!

i think that you can get permission to stay at dorms if you're an international student or something??

anyways since sav's super upset bcs her father straight-up told her not to come home bcs he has a new girlfriend ( god i hate sav's father )

katelyn would stay with her, but her dad can finally have her home in new york for christmas and she really doesn't want to miss it

cleo, the only one with a properly functional family, is going back to her big family house and loving parents and grandma and aunt and siblings and cousins. love that for her.

so aaron and sav are stuck at psu for 2 weeks and aaron's surprisingly cool with this. and sav's excited bcs for the first time since her mom died, she can spend her christmas with someone she actually wants around instead of her shitty-ass father and his constant stream of bitchy girlfriends

they spend a lot of time together, stealing food from the athlete's dining hall to make their own weird combos, which usually ends with aaron making something Cool and Interesting and sav gagging and spitting out whatever strange concoction she had previously insisted would taste good

i literally can't bring myself to give a shit about the twinyards' deal bcs andrew literally became best friends with renee?? and hooks up with guys at eden’s??? idk what's going on there but it's like andrew is trying to control aaron's life while he can do whatever he wants??? and honestly wtf????

also let me just make it clear that i ADORE andrew so so much he's one of my favourite comfort characters ever but i'm not gonna make excuses for his shitty behaviour. i fully believe he heals and puts away his pride to apologise to aaron, nicky, and kevin for his treatment of them

that's definitely not to say that aaron's internalised homophobia isn't eww, but with so many important people in his life gay, he makes a huge effort to get over it

so andrew just thinks that aaron is spending a lot of time in the library or out with nicky or something

and when aaron tells sav about this deal, she's kinda horrified, but it's pretty clear to her that aaron so desperately wants to fix his relationship with his brother, and she's not in any place to discourage him, is she?

the only thing she can do is hope that he won't come out all the worse for it

and stare at the boy curled up on the other end of the pale pink sofa cleo's parents had gotten, wonder just how much shit he'd been put through, and decide she was going to be his best friend

aaron's face has gone entirely impassive. sav nudges his fluffy-socked foot with her own, then reaches out to smooth the crease between his eyebrows. "careful, you'll wrinkle your pretty little face."

aaron is very caught off guard by this, and very promptly flushes bright red, which contrasts with the pale teal hoodie he stole from katelyn

"okay, enough talk about depressing crap. wanna go make christmas cookies now?"

"yeah."

so they make christmas cookies. well, it was supposed to be christmas cookies, but it turns into double chocolate fudge cookies somewhere along the line. neither of them knows how

them baking together is the definition of chaos. they're still blasting songs, and sav is singing along terribly

"yOu'Re A mEaN oNe, Mr. GrInCh," while poking aaron's cheek as he tries to mix something. he throws a handful of flour at her. "yOu ReAlLy ArE A hEel."

anyways obviously sav retaliates and that ends in a flour fight. it only stops when aaron deadass cracks an egg on sav's head and she smears chocolate into his hair

she also tries to make him sing along to baby, it's cold outside

"i'Ve GoT tO Go `wAAyyy~" she holds a spatula up to his face

"go away."

they video call katelyn, who takes one look at the mess in the cramped dorm kitchen and sighs so loudly and dramatically that her dad pops in and asks if everything's okay

aaron freezes up at the sight of him and sav quickly turns off the camera, bcs they both want to make good impressions on him, and being covered in various cookie ingredients just won't cut it, ya know?

the cookies turn out delicious and sav sends all their group chat various photos of the process, most of which consist of selfies with her making goofy faces while aaron is simultaneously baking and flipping off the camera

plus a several videos of sav enthusiastically dancing and mouthing the lyrics of, as follows, all i want for christmas is you, let it snow, and santa claus is coming to town and aggressively pointing a spatula at aaron

"c'mon aari, just sing! please??? please???? please you can do it i believe in you!!"

finally he just. gives up. "okay, you know what? fine, i'll sing to ONE and then you will STOP bothering me you insolent dumbass."

sav beams. santa baby starts playing. aaron is very clearly going through five stages of grief in 0.5 seconds

"go on," sav says sweetly as she slides in next to a pouting aaron, "i'll sing with you."

sav slings an arm around his shoulder and sways with him, so it's just her doing that and him grumpily mumbling the lyrics

and when the cookies are cooling down, they start cleaning the kitchen up. aaron rubs some spilled egg yolk into sav's hair but it goes pretty okay otherwise, since they're just listening to more christmas songs and chatting about light stuff, like aaron's biochem course, sav's fashion course, and their dumb classmates

aaron mostly listens tho, and learns that sav kind of hates allison reynolds for giving up her inheritance when she would do ANYTHING for even the tiniest fraction of that money

but she still thinks allison's gorgeous bcs c'mon

and that sav's dream is to one day open her own boutique!!

aaron spends most of the actual christmas day with the monsters at eden's bcs nicky and andrew wanted to

he spent a lot of the time texting on their group chat

doessavvyisgay: so u just go to a nightclub every week??

unaliveme: i mean yeah, i literally worked here for a while. we needed money and nicky was already working 2 jobs night and day

actualblessing: babe ur backstory is so tragic

unaliveme: i'm a fox for a reason ig

cleo.magda: Yes but-

doessavvyisgay renamed this conversation "aaron miniyard support group"

unaliveme: oh ffs

unaliveme: sav subject change go

doessavvyisgay: i'm at the clothes store what should i get?

actualblessing: something pretty :)

doessavvyisgay: sorry, i can't buy the cashier

cleo.magda: Wow.

doessavvyisgay: I DID GET HER NUMBER THO

unaliveme: lmaooo what's her name?

doessavvyisgay: uh

unaliveme: savannah istg u don't even know her name??

actualblessing: s a v

actualblessing: damn u really do be turning on the Charm tho

actualblessing: respect i didn't even talk to aaron till i asked him for notes bcs he has rly pretty notes and also a rly pretty face

actualblessing: and even then i was like :0

unaliveme: IT WAS CUTE I PROMISE

doessavvyisgay: u 2 = the only valid heterosexual couple

actualblessing: rt

unaliveme: oh shit i'm getting super drunk

cleo.magda: Aaron, you drink? That's not legal, get out of there right now. Kids these days-

unaliveme: cleo u have literally seen me get drunk af,, the first time we met,,, and anyways this is how my family bonds ✌🏻

doessavvyisgay: that's. so damn weird kiddo but go off ig

actualblessing: no go find better things to bond about other than alcohol and weird sweaty dancing

cleo.magda: Yeah, go watch some Christmas movies!

unaliveme: nicky makes us watch die hard every year

doessavvyisgay: see u in hell, kiddo ;)

cleo.magda: I meant things like The Polar Express and Home Alone.

actualblessing: merry christmas ya filthy animals!!

doessavvyisgay: merry xmas y'all i'm gonna go to that christmas party bcs i'm super bored

unaliveme: merry christmas mothers and fuckers

cleo.magda: Merry Christmas, you guys!

[mingot-studios]

Things currently polluting my mind (will be added to as i think of things)

 How bad the Star vs. Finale was, and weather i should even bother trying to watch the show again at this point

The fact that the next JoJolion chapter is coming out soon and I STILL haven’t read 107 with my mom even though I’ve already read it

Not being caught up on One Piece and having 0 IDEA of whats happening at this poin as well starting to flaws with the series (racism, transphobia, and homophobia) that i knew was there but chose to ignore and weather it should hinder my relationship with the series. Also wanting to murder Oda for demoting Franky to ‘Pervy Grandma’ (srsly wtf oda)

Upset Infinity Train was cancelled even though i never watched it, and wonder why the fans cry for it to come is suddenly not happening?

The fact i’m going to be returning to in person schooling which is my personal HELL

my brother leaving for college upstate (Me and my brother have never really been that close, we fight alot but I cant imagine life without him)

The fact that my procrastination has gotten so bad that I nearly had to retake PE, World History, and English

The Owl House coming back on the 12th but i had downloaded the first 2 episodes but haven’t watched them and debating if i should, also having a meltdown  over Disney screwing the show over and having its third be 3 or 4 (i cant remember) 44-minute specials

The fact that me and brother STILL haven’t finished our Yume 2kki Let’s Play

I haven’t been watching anime regularly with my mom

I haven’t posted anything to my DeviantArt or YouTube in months

I have so much energy right now but no outlets

I still haven’t tried out my drawing pad i got for my birthday last year

I have so many drawing ideas but my spiral sketchpad is filled up and I have yet to get a new one

Ive many intricit and detailed story ideas that i know im gonna forget if i dont write them down bu due my procrastination i haven’t done so im prolly gonna lose everything

The fact Thurston Waffles hasn’t posted anything since late April as well as the fact that he’s got Kidney problems

So many ideas for videos but I only have WindowsMovieMaker and the HumbleBundle my mom got me idk YEARS ago won’t install

I’m gonna be 17 at the end of September, which i only have until next June before I graduate High school, have to give up my Chromebook, start thinking about college and getting a job, possibly moving out and living on my own, the knowledge that my parents are in their late 50′s and early 60′s so hey might be gone sooner than most parents and I dont know how to function without my parents doing everything for me

These weird tingles ive been getting in my body for he pas couple days

The fact that im not gonna a kid soon and im gonna have to grow and stop doing whatever i want whenever i want and i’m gonna never accomplish my dream of creating a successful cartoon and will probably end up at a dead end job I HATE just to make ends meet and eventually dying alone because I dont wanna be in a relationship or have kids

Everything is too overwhelming. The light, the sound, my thoughts, its all too much. I wanna curl up into a tiny ball and disappear from this awful experience called life

Capitalism

i hate being so passionately when i’m upset, everyone else is calm but i have meltdowns and freaks outs over things i shouldn’t even care about or are miniscule (Comes with being autistic i guess)

I have 0 patience and i hate it

I’m starting to regress back to being a childish brat after all the progress i’ve made

i’m constantly surrounded by either criticism or praise that contradict each other so i dont know what to believe about myself

the fact that i have so many great story ideas but i cant write a cohernt thought with proper grammer or sytax or spelling o save my life, nor the art skill or the patience or the tech to draw comics

i haven seen my therapist in days and i need help but i know im not actually gonna change 

having gender panic

I have no in person friends and ive forgotten how to interact with people

ive become a noodle limbed nerd

Ive gotten super skinny

I want someone o break through my shell and help me change bu I know thats just a fantasy and im the only one who can do that but im too lazy to put effort into it

everything i used to enjoy suddenly feels tedious monotonous repetitive and uninteresting

I feel trapped and scraed 

The fact after being bulied so much the only way i can really assert myself is to get violent and angry because they would want me breakdown and cry

I have this image in my head of who i want to be; And badass that people including adults, are scared of and know not to fuck with me or they’ll get hurt (Basically Jotaro, bu I’ve had this image since before i even knew what jojo was) And the fact I KNOW that i’s a pointless endever and that i only dig my own grave when i get mad but its like ingrained Branded into my my psyche so im always going to larp that vision of myself but not get anywhere and only regress further

I want to address my problems and change but I never do and stay static and regress

I cant take crticisim even though i know its true

The reason im so scared of writing fanfiction is because i know its gonna be a mess despite what i think is a great story and people will end up mocking it and what little self confidence i have will shatter

Star Vs wasted potential

the fact that I dont know where to take the whole “Rubi dies at the  end of he first season but comes back o life except she’s not actually she’s just a walking meat sack containing an anchint eldritch god that will, sooner or later, burst out of her and destroy her body, and she’s fighting for control of her ow body due to Skarlotus trying to devor her soul and Data’s medience is only delaying the inevitable” storyline of my concept cartoon, The Crypto Club

I have an AMAZING idea for an Invader Zim storyline that has fascism, rascism, mass genocide, child soldiers, political intrigue, propaganda, baiscally space hitler and more (okay that came out sound REALLY bad, but NONE of it painted as good!) It also involves Zim and Dib coming together to stop an even bigger threat and there is a really ironic ending that brings my OC GA83′s story full circle

[bisluthq]

Hey! I'm fairly new here and I have a pretty uncommon take on Kaylor. But I just wanna start off by saying I try my best to be as supportive of LGBT people as possible and if they're both bisexual, then I would be 100% okay with that! I'm not trying to "defend their heterosexuality" or anything, I think that's really weird

Okay, so my personal theory is that Kaylor did happen, but that Taylor and Karlie are both straight. I know that might sound contradictory, but I say this based on my own personal experiences based on how I am with my best friend. I think Karlie and Taylor's relationship might have been similar in some ways to ours

Right, so I'm straight and I'm not into women in the gay kind of way (but it's completely cool that some girls are), and I have this roommate who's gorgeous. Really gorgeous, she's like a 10/10 "I would sell my kidney to look like you" kind of girl. She's very attractive, she has like tan skin and long legs and gorgeous brown hair and pretty eyes and nice lips and just like… she's just very good looking. I'm definitely jealous of her body, I won't even pretend I'm not 😪 I lowkey hate her because of it (jk)

We've been living together since not long before COVID started, and we're very good friends. There were three of us before, but our other roommate went back home to stay with her parents until in person classes are back on and we agreed to it and worked something out because she has really bad anxiety so we understood her reasoning for it

Anyway so it's just been us two and because we've been at home a lot during this time instead of out for most of the day like before, we've gotten to know each other a lot better and have become a lot closer. We were already friends from before, but now we're like super close besties, we've been hanging out a lot together and playing board games, watching movies, helping each other with essays, just having long conversations about anything and everything, etc

Like it's been so nice having a best friend that I can be this close to now because I haven't had a best friend since I was a kid

So my friend and I were having like a conversation last year about how hard it's been in quarantine not being able to go on dates and how we miss kissing people, and so we decided to just like, make out for fun you know. I mean, there's not really anything that's inherently romantic or sexual about making out, that's just society that says that. But tbh I think making out with your friends if you want to should be normalized, it's fun and it can even be emotional sometimes. It's not that different from hugging people

After a couple of weeks or so, I think we got bored of just making out with each other and decided to like, fully hook up. It started off because we were modelling lingerie for each other for banter and were pretending we were each other's runway judges and then I think we just decided to hook up with each other as like part of the whole "game". I can't remember who initiated it now, I think it might have been me as a joke lol

Like just in a platonic way for fun, as a kind of substitute until we can go back into society

And tbh I always expected hooking up with a woman to be like mediocre and boring and awkward, but although it was a bit hard to get the hang of at first and there was a learning curve, it's actually very enjoyable. Like I was very surprised actually at how hot it can be, I think I can maybe see why bisexual women and lesbians like doing it

Anyway we both liked it and we just carried on hooking up on the regular and it's been like 8 months now and tbh I just think it's very sweet and heartwarming, like it actually makes me feel a little emotional how we're close enough and care about each other enough that we can even help each other out with the physical intimacy side of things so that we don't get sexually frustrated while we're stuck in lockdown

I just think it's really cool and we even sleep in the same bed most of the time now because tbh what's the point in sleeping alone when you can sleep in the same bed as someone else? It's nicer, like you can cuddle and stuff

Anyway, I think that maybe Kaylor's relationship might have been similar. I think they're both straight but they became really close friends in a short space of time, and that their friendship was so intense that it became physical but in a platonic way

I think lesbians and bisexual women are amazing and I have so much respect for you guys for accepting yourselves in a society that tries to erase you, and I think there definitely needs to be more wlw representation on TV and in movies

But at the same time, I would also like there to be more close female friendships like the one that me and my friend have where you can just talk about everything together and do things that society usually reserves for romantic partners, but in a platonic way. Because female friendship is really important and beautiful, whether that's between straight women like me and my friend who I think is probably straight too, or between queer women because one thing I've learnt during my short time on this blog is how queer women can have very close platonic friendships with other queer women too

I think society just has overly strict ideas of "straight" and "gay". Like for some people, they would hear about two women sleeping together and think "Oh that's gay", but not necessarily because straight women can enjoy sleeping with other women too, like it's normal 🤷‍♀️

I think it's just a result of women being a lot more physically beautiful than men are, like straight women really got the short end of the stick tbh compared to straight men

I also think it's because women are so oversexualized in the media, and obviously straight girls see that too and so we sort of internalize that attraction to women because we're so used to seeing women being presented in a sexual way? Except it's not real attraction with us like how it is for queer girls

Like I'm very much "attracted" to my friend, she's genuinely stunning and just very hot tbh. But I still identify as straight because it's just a case of what I mentioned above, it's a "fake" attraction. And also because men are afraid to compliment other men because it's seen as "gay", but women can be fully confident in their sexuality and still recognize other women's beauty and sex appeal. You see it all the time in instagram comments, and I really love how we're all so supportive of each other like that

Like I can be fully confident in my sexuality and yet still say that some women like my friend are gorgeous as hell and also 100 times better looking than most men I've seen. I'm very much obsessed with some women's appearances but in a platonic way

And I just love the concept of "girl crushes" and I think that from a feminism viewpoint, it's beautiful that we're focusing on other girls and showing love towards other girls too, instead of just to men who, let's be real, don't even fully appreciate it half of the time

I am going to be sad when we all have to return to life as usual and my friend and I won't be able to spend as much time together anymore. I'm dreading it tbh, I don't want it to end yet. And it really sucks that the physical side of our friendship will probably have to stop too once our other roommate comes back because I think she'd definitely misunderstand the situation and think it's something different than it actually is if she ever saw us kissing or something. I really am going to miss it a lot though, I really like how things currently are and it's just really really nice and I don't want it to change :/

Btw I'm sorry if I sounded fetishistic or offensive with any of this, I just get a bit jealous sometimes that you guys get to date girls and we're just stuck with men. Honestly if it wasn't for all of the homophobia and the struggles that you all have to face and the fact that it would feel disrespectful to the LGBT community, I would probably really wish I could change my sexuality to be bisexual or gay instead because I just think women are better. Sometimes I really do wish I was into women in that way because dating girls just sounds so much more appealing to me (in a non fetishizing weird way) but unfortunately I'm stuck with dating men 🤦‍♀️ But I also know I'm lucky and privileged to be straight even though most men are mediocre and kinda gross and I don't mean to be disrespectful because I know you all have to face homophobia and other LGBT difficulties and it really sucks, people are awful. There's nothing wrong with women dating women or men dating men at all, society is just ugly and bigoted

Anyway, does anybody else have a similar sort of take on Kaylor where they think they could have both been straight and just had a very close friendship with a physical side to it? I think it would explain a lot. But like I said, this is just a theory of mine based on my own situation, and I'm also open to the idea that it was an actual relationship and that they're both into women for real, not just fake "into women" like I am.

Also pls feel free to call me out if I accidentally said anything offensive towards LGBT people, I tried my best but if I made a mistake anywhere pls let me know and I'll avoid it next time!

You’re not offensive. Please stop apologizing. And we’re gonna come back to the Kaylor stuff another time because... Honey. You and I need to have a conversation for a bit.

So firstly, I’m not trying to like “diagnose” you and at the end of the day it’s your choice what you want to call yourself but... tbh you might not be straight. Sexuality is fluid not static and exists on a spectrum not in absolutes. It’s not like it’s straight, 50/50 bi, gay and you’re born knowing and there’s no room for anything else. That’s not true. There’s a lot of room in between all of these and labels can change over time. We’re people, not cereal brands, and sometimes we don’t even KNOW the word for what we might be. I’m tagging a tag for you from when we asked people to share their label journeys for you to see. It’s not simple or easy and it’s not just because of external stuff - it’s because figuring this out internally is HARD. If you found yourself having such an intense friendship it became physical, repeatedly, you liked it a lot, you still sleep in the same bed and continue to share all your thoughts and you don’t want any of that to end... I’m not sure you’re Kinsey 0. And I think you might lowkey have a girlfriend dude. 

You can obviously prefer men but like... hun I reaaallly don’t think you’re completely straight.

Also: it’s okay to say “I see myself winding up with a man and this is a situationship for right now!” but that doesn’t make you straight because again, sexuality is a spectrum and you can manifest a particular kind of endgame while experiencing other things along the way.

But here’s where you really got me: “most men are mediocre and kinda gross” and “women being a lot more physically beautiful than men are, like straight women really got the short end of the stick tbh compared to straight men” because that’s the kind of thing I used to say in my Bi 1.0 era before I ID’d as a lesbian for a bit and before Harry Styles (KING 🥺) made me bi for real. Hun, no. Straight women like men. Tbh BI women like men. I genuinely, unironically, find Harry and Timmy and Matt Smith to be sexy beasts and I would do dirty things to the former two but maybe not the latter irl in 2021 but yes also him if I could be on that Spain trip with him and Karen where they got sloshed and which I think of often. These men are genuinely fucking beautiful to me in the same way Taylor is and Di Silvers is (okay she’s prettier than all of them but like same ~vibe) and like Megan Thee Stallion is and Indira Varma in everything but especially GOT and Gillian Anderson and Keira Knightley. Like those women are HOT to me and SO. ARE. THE. MEN. 

Straight women find SO MANY DUDES hot. So many. Starting from objectively pretty options I just cannot personally understand like Chris Evans all the way through to bitches who are outchea simping for wrestlers and Cole Sprouse. Do I understand? No. But like... that’s straight girl culture and ours is not to judge. 

If you’re struggling to find men hot then... you might be gay.

Also, I’m not sure what you mean by “fake attraction”. Like queer women - especially femme women which I assume you very much are - experience the same kinds of feelings straight girls do. We have women we want to be like and look like and find enviable (me and Oenone Forbat) and women we find aesthetically gorgeous (me and Anya Taylor Joy) and we have extremely close female friends who we can spend hours on end spilling our guts to - as you say female friendships are truly special - and without going into personal people that you don’t know, that’s me and Cam and Sim right? I literally talk to them for hours. Like those are not gay feelings. And yes we can chat about those kinds of feelings with straight girls and call them “girl crushes” and not immediately get “caught out” because they experience this exact shit too.

But here’s the thing. They never do and I don’t want in the cases above to fuck these women. It’s not sexual.

The moment I can actually imagine fucking the women in question that’s... gay. 

Like it’s not “fake attraction” it’s literally just gay. That’s how we desire women. We want to fuck them. Not all women. Not always. But sometimes we want to get under or on top of one and just really truly fucking make each other moan with pleasure.

I have no idea if Karlie or Taylor are into women. They could both literally be straight. I have no idea.

But I have a better idea about you.

Hun, you’re fucking your roommate/best friend and don’t want to stop.

You’re not “into women”.

You’re into this woman.

And possibly into women more generally.

So I know it’s weird to have to be the one to tell you this, and if you want to keep chatting via anon or in my DMs or if you want me to try collate resources for you from around the web but...

Like.

Dude.

You’re a whole ass part of the rainbow.

Welcome to the community you thought you weren’t a part of earlier today 🌈 ❤️

It’s nice here, sure there’s homophobia, but at least we get to fuck girls and man is it good.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Breathe ~ the Doctor (part 8)

A/n: So I tried to go lighter with this one and failed a bit not gonna lie? Just... bare with me I forgot that Mr. Connolly was like THAT and I absolutely had to address it. This one goes on a bit because of that, sorry.

Word Count: 12,000+

Warnings: Implied physical/mental abuse, past homophobia, backlash of PTSD (light), possibly upsetting memories, discussion of abuse

MASTERLIST

"How does this look?" Y/n had changed out of what originally been planned for him this time. He didn't like layers like the Doctor did unless it was quite cold, and it wasn't, so he'd lessened the whole thing by ditching the blazer, looking overly casual like he usually did. The suit pants were blue, close to but just a bit nicer than the jeans he'd mostly been wearing up until now. He'd absolutely refused to do his hair like the Doctor had, so it was loose and messy instead - different than the way he did it every other day, but all he could manage after the gel had hardened the strands. Rose had tried to get Y/n to comply and it had failed for both of them. He felt too casual to be wearing dress pants, and his hair looked weird to him in the mirror. He was thinking about taking a quick shower and going for an entirely different look.

When he looked at Rose and the Doctor for input though, the two looked back at him with eyes widened, lips parted. Upon realizing they were staring, the Doctor looked away. Rose just smirked. Y/n went quite red. "You look fantastic," Rose complimented. "I didn't realize you could pull off messy so well."

"You pull off everything well," the Doctor followed up softly. It was unsure if he'd meant to keep it in his head and slipped, or had wanted to say it louder but didn't have the confidence. Y/n thanked him, but the Doctor just nodded dismissively, a blush of his own coloring his skin before he nodded to the TARDIS door. "You both ready?"

As always, Rose was first. She pulled the door open, popping outside to may her skirts swish. It was becoming quickly apparent she was in love with how her dress moved. "I thought we'd be going for the Vegas era. You know, the white flares and the-" she did a sort of growl, and Y/n raised an eyebrow but realized she'd been mocking rather than being genuine. He was going to say - if she was into that, she was out of luck with her current partners.

Like an echo of Y/n's thoughts, the Doctor leaned around the TARDIS door, his shoulder pressing against Y/n's chest. "You're kidding aren't you? If you want to see Elvis you go to the late '50's! The time before burgers!" He dipped back in and Y/n leaned against the doorway, keeping both of the other two in view. "When they called him "the Pelvis" and he still had a waist!" The Doctor continued from inside. "What's more, you see him in style!" Y/n saw it first from his vantage point in the doorway, and thankfully so because as the Doctor rolled out of the TARDIS in a fully functioning moped, Y/n would have been run over if he hadn't gotten out of the way quickly. He circled before stopping, looking at Rose with an amused smirk. "You going my way Doll?" He said in a low voice. It was a bad attempt at Elvis and made Y/n laugh.

Rose pulled out a pair of glasses that matched her dress. "Is there anyway to go, daddy o?" She shot back, her voice higher and more nasally. She approached the Doctor with an added, "Straight from the fridge, man!"

The Doctor grinned. "Hey, you speak the lingo!" He held out a helmet for her. Y/n was amused to see that it was pink, like her glasses, so it also matched her skirt. Y/n dipped inside as they continued their back and forth, looking around before he saw what he was looking for. A bike! It wouldn't be as fast as the moped mechanically but he was down to coast. Also he had a secret: he was a devil when it came to bicycling. Rose had refused to stop biking with him for a few years now; she could never keep up well enough and tired easily if she tried.

When Y/n rolled out on the bike, the Doctor rose an eyebrow. Y/n closed the TARDIS door behind him, grinning. "Don't give me that look," he dismissed. "Just lead the way. If you can keep up." Rose and Y/n laughed as he took off on the bike, surprising the Doctor with how fast he actually went. After a bit of joking, the Doctor did slow down a bit to keep pace with Y/n, the three chatting - or, the usual, which was that Rose and the Doctor chatted mostly and Y/n inputted every so often - on the way.

"Where we off to?" Rose asked at one point.

"Ed Sullivan TV studios," the Doctor yelled back in response, having to be loud over the sound of the motor. "Elvis did Hound Dog on one of the shows. There were loads of complaints. Bit of luck, we'll just catch it."

"And that would be the TV studios in, what, New York?" Rose inquired further.

Y/n immediately saw where she was going with that. The Doctor did not. "That's the one!"

The trio paused at a four-way stop as a bus passed. Rose laughed. Y/n smiled, soft and fond. "I don't think we're in New York, Doctor." And indeed it was anything but. All around them was small town views. The sky was clear and the buildings were all very similar: one story, brick, two windows, one door, colored red. There wasn't even much traffic.

"Well," the Doctor mumbled. "This could still be New York. I mean, this looks very New York to me."

Y/n rolled his eyes. "And you've memorized New York have you?" The Doctor shrugged, but before he could speak Y/n got to it first. "You forget how well I know you, Doctor. I know you have general ideas of how certain places on each planet work and that's why you usually end up in the general same place every time you come to Earth. You probably would think we were on a different planet if you went to... Australia, or France. Have you ever really been to America before?"

The Doctor glowered, but without any offense or anger. Just the cutest irritation a being called out. After all, you couldn't get mad at someone just because they were right. "I've got a lot going on in this head of mine."

A smirk rose to Y/n's face. "Is that why we always get lost?"

Rose cut in. "What are all the flags for?" And indeed, she had a point.

The first thing he noticed other than the very not-New York state of the very London town, were the flags hung above the streets. Y/n could appreciate pride for one's country, but there were flags EVERYWHERE he looked. It seemed a little odd that a town so small you could see it even in the way people talked to each other, would hang a bunch of flags around every inch of every place. What, was the Queen coming to visit?

They parked the bike and moped, going around to get a closer look and understand exactly what was going on. In their wanderings, they came across a man at the back of a truck, and boys next to him who seemed to be picking up and moving a TV. The older man said something. "There you go sir." Y/n noticed another man who was older than the boys but younger than the older gent. Maybe the father. "All wired up for the great occasion."

The Doctor approached. "Great occasion? What do you mean?"

"Where you've been living eh?" the older man asked as the boys and their father left with the TV. "Out in the colonies? The coronation of course."

Unfortunately, that didn't clear up much for the group. "And what coronation's that then?" the Doctor asked in favor of all of their cluelessness.

The older man stopped, looking at them like they were insane. Nervous, even. Skiddish. Y/n watched him, that familiar feeling twisting in his chest. Something was about to happen, and it wasn't good. "What do you mean?" the older man asked. "The Coronation."

"It's the Queen's," Rose realized. "Queen Elizabeth." Y/n felt silly then. Of course! He was getting as bad at the space man over there, so much other knowledge in his head making him forget how his own planet worked.

"Oh!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Is this 1953?"

"Last time I looked," the older man affirmed. "Time for a lovely bit of pomp and circumstance. What we do best."

Rose was looking around, her voice next distracting from the older man with his van. "Look at all the TV aerials. Looks like everyone's got one. Which is so weird, because my mum said tellies were so rare, they all had to pile into one house."

"Not round here, Love," the older man cheerily corrected. "Magpie's Marvelous Tellies." He pointed to the side of his truck, feigning proud. Pride that should have been real but so obviously wasn't. Pride that was, for some reason, very obviously strained when Y/n looked at him. Magpie - Y/n assumed that was the man's name, as the branding suggested - caught Y/n giving him an analyzing look and turned away. Hiding. "Only five quid a pop."

Before Y/n could push, the Doctor chirped, "Oh but this is a brilliant year! Classic! Technicolor! Everest climbed! Everything off the ration! A nation throwing off the shackles of war and looking forward to a happier, brighter future!" Rose laughed, and Y/n almost dismissed his weird feeling and grinned along.

Then there was screaming.

"Someone help me! Please!" The trio spun to the sound of the woman's voice. "Ted! Leave him alone, he's my husband!" The Doctor shot off, triggering Rose to follow close behind. Y/n stayed back, something eating at him. "PLEASE!" the woman begged as the other two got onto the scene where two men in black suits were pushing what seemed to be a man. It couldn't be sure because he had a blanket over his head, and he was rushed into a long black car, but the woman had called him Ted so...

"What's going on?" the Doctor demanded.

"Oi! What are you doing?" A young boy continued when the Doctor was ignored.

"Police business," was what they all got. "Get out of the way, sir." That was directed at the Doctor, who was scrambling to find some way to either intervene or understand. Y/n looked away though, his eyes drawn by some reason to Mr. Magpie, just in time to see the man's face wrought with regret and self hatred. He seemed intensely distressed, and nearly tripped over himself to leave the scene when he met Y/n's gaze. As Magpie peeled from the scene in one direction, Rose and the Doctor chasing the black car on the moped in the opposite direction, Y/n had two thoughts.

One, this happened a lot.

Two, this town was either very tight knit, which didn't seem to be the case as no one but the boy from before had tried to come to Tom's rescue. Even the boy had been pulled inside by his parents, who seemed eager to ignore the situation entirely. So if that wasn't the case, how upset he'd been only made sense if... he was somehow involved in what was going wrong with these people. Or knew something about it.

There was a scream coming from the house where the boy from earlier had disappeared into that caught Y/n's attention first. His instincts perked up, his defenses quickly activating. It had been muffled, like maybe a window was cracked and that alone was why he could hear the conversation inside, but it was enough to set him on edge. Before he could orient himself enough to go after Magpie, Rose and the Doctor pulled up and caught him up on losing the back car to a dead end, as well as their plan to ask around to the neighbors about what was happening.

When the Doctor noticed Y/n's gaze returning time and time again to the house the yelling had come from, he put a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "You okay?"

"There was yelling," Y/n explained softly. He switched gears upon hearing the frail note in his voice. "It was where the boy from earlier disappeared. I think we should look into them."

Unsure if the other two had caught onto the real reason Y/n was suddenly a little out of it, he followed along as the other two lead the way toward the house and inside. Something about how they were there in the name of the Queen, which seemed to work well enough. They were inside at least.

"Very nice," the Doctor complimented as the three filtered into the house. "Very well kept. I have to congratulate you, Mrs...?" Y/n was astonished at the Doctor's ability to slip in so easily and effortlessly, like he really was here for what he said he was here for.

The woman smiled warmly, flattered by the Doctor's praise. "Mrs. Connolly," she answered in response to his prompting question.

"Now then Rita," the man who'd answered the door dismissed. Y/n recognized his voice - he had been the one to yell. "I can handle this. These gentlemen are proper representatives." Y/n was instantly put off by the way he dismissed both of the women in the room - Rose and his wife. How he referred to the gentlemen, which would be Y/n and the Doctor, and not the woman who was with them. How he shut up his wife who was only responding to being directly spoken to. Y/n hated him immediately. "Don't mind the wife. She rattles on a bit." This he said to the Doctor, ignoring Y/n as he leaned into the back of the room and stayed quiet. That was even more annoying as it seemed he'd been trying to weed out the alpha male in the group since they walked in and address that person only. Rose was a woman and Y/n was quiet, so he addressed only the Doctor, as if he was the only stranger in the house right now.

"Well maybe she should rattle on a bit more," the Doctor responded quite easily. "I'm not convinced you're doing your patriotic duty. Those flags." His eyes fell to a box of flags on the ground. "Why are they not flying?"

Mr. Connolly, who'd looked horrified at the Doctor suggesting he wasn't being patriotic, now rushed to prove how good of a citizen he was and Y/n had to swallow a laugh to hide it. "There we are, Rita, I told you." Mrs. Connolly seemed to be suddenly upset, and Y/n felt a burning urge to step in between the two of them. He held his place only because the Doctor shot him a warning look. "Get them up. Queen and country."

"I'm sorry," Rita apologized to the Doctor.

Before she could continue, Mr. Connolly ordered, "Get it done. Do it now."

Y/n's hands tightened into fists but the Doctor was already stepping forward. "Hold on a minute." Mr. Connolly kept talking and the Doctor spoke again over him, repeating, "Hold on a minute. You've got hands, Mr. Connolly. Two big hands! Then why is that your wife's job?"

Mr. Connolly seemed derailed again, and Y/n and Rose exchanged thrilled expressions. "Well it's housework, isn't it?" It seemed like it was supposed to be expected. A simple question with an obvious answer. And, I suppose in a world where men were aggressive and angry and hard and women did what they were told and everyone else was ripped apart, it was a simple answer.

"And that's women's work?" The Doctor continued casually.

"Of course it is!" Mr. Connolly spat, astounded.

That seemed to be exactly what the Doctor wanted him to say. "Mr. Connolly, what gender is the Queen?"

Immediately Mr. Connolly was uncomfortable. "She's female."

"And are you suggesting the Queen does the housework?" A thick silence fell like cement into the room, and Y/n accidentally made eye contact with the boy from earlier. They shared two repressed smiles, and Y/n winked at him.

Finally, the Doctor's question was given an answer. "No!" Mr. Connolly gasped, incredulous. "Not at all!"

The Doctor reached down and scooped up one of the flag lines, handing it to Mr. Connolly. "Then get busy."

"Right, yes sir," the stupid man mumbled as he took the line, moving to the wall to hang it up. "You'll be proud of us sir. We'll have union jacks left, right and center."

Rose, who'd taken a seat at some point, now stood up again. "Excuse me Mr. Connoly. Hang on a minute. Union Jacks?"

Mr. Connolly froze, looking back at her with a stunned expression, taken far aback by her hot headedness and strong voice coming from a woman. "Yes, that's right, isn't it?"

"That's the Union flag," she continued. Her voice got angry and Y/n's eyes widened, his attraction to her sky rocketing. "It's the Union Jack only when it's flown at sea."

"Oh," Mr. Connolly nearly whimpered. "I'm sorry. I do apologize."

Y/n smirked, turning away from Mr. Connolly so he wouldn't see. Rose wasn't about to go easy on the man though, and Y/n appreciated that. "Well, don't get it wrong again. There's a good man. Now get to it!" She snapped the last bit, spinning around again when she'd finished with a satisfied smile on her face and moving back to the couch to sit down. Y/n stepped forward so he was leaning on the back of the couch, behind the pair.

"Right then," the Doctor continued with eyes wide and impressed. "Nice and comfy. At her majesty's leisure." When they were settled the Doctor turned to Rose with a very quiet whispered, "Union Flag?"

Rose was eager to explain. "Mum went out with a sailor."

The Doctor chuckled gleefully and Y/n shook his head, amused. "I bet she did." In a normal voice he turned to Mrs. Connolly. "Anyway, I'm the Doctor, then there's Rose and Y/n." He introduced them all to Mrs. Connolly, Rose and Y/n giving a nod or a wave respectively when they were mentioned. "And you are?" That he said to the kid.

"Tommy," the kid responded, looking at the trio like they were something amazing.

The Doctor and Rose pushed apart to make room for someone to sit between them. "Well, sit yourself down, Tommy." The Doctor pat the spot between them for Tommy, and then the chair next to the couch to encourage Mrs. Connolly to sit down as well. Y/n moved around to lean against the wall next to the fireplace, slipping his hands in his pockets and trying to seem as least threatening as possible. "Have a look at this," the Doctor continued when everyone was settled, turning attention to the TV. "I love telly, don't you?"

"Yeah, I think it's brilliant," Tommy agreed with a smile.

"Good man," the Doctor complimented. After a beat he leaned back to add, "Keep working, Mr. C!" and then leaned forward to watch the black and white program. Or, that's what Y/n thought he was doing before the Doctor suddenly turned to Mrs. Connolly with a low, soft, quiet voice that Mr. Connolly wouldn't be able to hear. "Now, why don't you tell me what's wrong?" His voice wasn't forceful but comforting, and he looked at her with a soft concern. He was open and tender - ready to help and slow to disbelieve, dismiss, or judge.

Mrs. Connolly responded to it immediately. "Did you say you were a Doctor?"

Y/n felt his heart seize, knowing what it meant when the Doctor confirmed, "Yes I am."

"Can you help her?" Y/n noticed the desperation on the woman's face. The way her hair fell out of her hairdo, and her hands clasped together, stress and every line of her face. "Oh please. Can you hep her, Doctor?"

Like an unwanted Lego you step on while walking through your house, Mr. Connolly spoke up again. "Now Rita, I don't think the gentleman needs to know.

"Yes he does." It was the first thing Y/n had said the entire time, and when Mr. Connolly looked at him to argue, the look on Y/n's face shut him down immediately. "There's something going wrong, but the Doctor can help. He can fix whatever problem you have, because he's absolutely amazing like that." He turned to Mrs. Connolly with a softer expression. "Please, continue."

Mrs. Connolly suddenly broke, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she began to cry. Rose stood up to move to her side and comfort her. "It's all right," she eased. "It's all right, come here." She hugged Mrs. Connolly, keeping the older woman against her side. "Oh, it's okay. It's alright."

"Hold on a minute," Mr. Connolly seemed to realize, fiddling with the flags still in his hand. "Queen and country's one thing, but this is my house." His voice was rising and Y/n locked up immediately. "What the..." He looked at the flags in his hand before tossing them aside. "What the hell am I doing?" He locked eyes with the Doctor, who was almost smirking. The smug look was tainted with a threatening darkness in his eyes that seemed to be brewing. A storm about to hit hard. "Now you listen here Doctor," Mr. Connolly continued. This was a man who was never questioned or put in his place, and it made Y/n begin to come undone. "You may have fancy qualifications, but what goes on under my roof is my business."

"No it's not."

Mr. Connolly turned to face Y/n with a rage in his features, but Y/n wasn't having any of it. He'd lost something suddenly. The thing that kept him quiet when he was afraid. That made him step back and close his eyes and hide. The thing that had driven him to run every time he'd been chased by things he was afraid of when he was small. Because you know what, he wasn't small anymore and Mr. Connolly was not even semi close to the scariest thing he'd seen.

"You," Mr. Connolly seethed.

"Me," Y/n confirmed, stepping forward. He glared, his eyes burning with wild, hot fire. "Am I the type of man you like to be around? The type that's easy to push around and get what you want from? Is that why you've ignored me for so long, and turned to me so quickly, because the Doctor is scarier and bigger and you know that despite the fact you shouldn't be afraid of him, you are?" Y/n pushed off the wall, standing to his full height. "You act like because you live in this house it's your special little place where you're in control and nothing can stop you? Well let me tell you," Y/n sneered, stepping forward again, his eyes narrowing. "This might be your house, but it is not up to you to control everything in it, because your wife and your son are their own people and not objects for you to put into the places that you want them and you will learn that or your son will grow up hating you and your wife will wait for the day you die, and every day of your life will be spent playing pretend king and trying to ignore how absolutely miserable you are."

Mr. Connolly seemed to be stunned, seeing nothing but truth that terrified him when he looked into Y/n's eyes. "Who are you?"

Y/n finally calmed, becoming even more terrifying by doing so. "Your worst nightmare." All of the blood drained from Mr. Connolly's face as a shadow passed over Y/n's expression that sent a chill down Mr. Connolly's spine.

"Now-" the Doctor began, but he was interrupted by Mr. Connolly turning around weakly and demanding-

"Get out."

"Excuse me?" The Doctor hissed.

"Get out!" He sounded less angry and more terrified, but scared animals were always more volatile than angry ones.

"I'm trying to-"

Mr. Connolly snapped. "I am talking!"

The Doctor shot to his feet, getting into Mr. Connolly's face. "And I'm not listening!" Mr. Connolly finally shut up, eyes wide and hands shaking. "Now you Mr. Connolly, you've dismissed my friend over there but I'm about to tell you, you will absolutely not dismiss me. You are staring into a deep, dark pit of trouble if you don't let me help. Now I'm ordering you, sir-" he spit the word, mocking rather than respectful. "-Tell me what is going on!"

Before anyone could say anything or bounce back from the Doctor absolutely losing it on this idiotic man, there was suddenly a thumping sound over head. Like someone was banging a stick on the floor above them. The family in the room finally broke, even Mr. Connolly finally looking at the Doctor with fear in his eyes and saying, "She won't stop." The paused and the rhythmic thudding came again. Four slow thuds. "She never stops," Mr. Connolly added, shifting uncomfortably.

Tommy sat forward. "We started hearing stories all round the place," he began. The Doctor turned to face him, Rose only having to look over to move her attention to the boy. Y/n's eyes had shot to the stairs when the banging had started and had not moved away. "People who have changed. Families keeping it secret because they were scared. Then the police started finding out. We don't know how, no one does. They just turn up. They come to the door and take them. Any time of the day or night."

At some point Y/n had moved from his spot before o the bottom of the steps, and when he got there, he paused only a second before he took a step up, and then another, and then another. The Doctor told Tommy one thing: "Show me." But by the time the group moved to get the key and went up the stairs so the Doctor could see what was going on, Y/n was already standing in front of the door with a distant, glassy look on his face. "Y/n?" The Doctor's voice was soft, concerned.

Y/n didn't respond. He raised a hand and it hovered over the door. He almost touched it... there was something, almost calling to him. Drawing him in. Y/n forced himself to focus. Ripped himself away from the thing that was pulling his body around without his permission. The last time this had happened, he had felt the death of hundreds and hundreds of people all being so horrified and agonized that it killed them. He couldn't feel something like that again. So he stepped back, using his other hand to force the one reaching for the door to his chest. away from the wood. He leaned against the banister behind him, a grim expression on his face. Rose and the Doctor shared worried expressions before moving to the door to unlock it and see what was going on. It was always the first step to solving the problem.

The door opened with Tommy entering the room first. They'd all agreed it would be best if she saw someone she knew first, so he was the one who greeted her. "Gran? It's Tommy. It's alright Gran. I've brought help." The door opened wider, revealing a dark room light only by the moon outside coming in through the window. There was someone inside, but only her silhouette could be seen. She began to walk toward the group coming into the room, and Y/n felt his heart seize in his chest. He wanted to reach out and pull the Doctor and Rose back, but he couldn't move.

Tommy turned the light on.

The woman in the room was revealed, in pristine, perfect condition... except that her face was gone. She had no mouth or eyes or even a nose. There light dents where all those things should be, but weren't. She just stood there, as if looking at them. But she couldn't.

Rose and the Doctor moved to her after a second. The Doctor got very close, eyebrows creasing. "Her face is completely gone." He rose his screwdriver to scan her. "Scarcely an electrical impulse left," he told them. "Almost complete neural shutdown. It's just ticking over. It's like her brain's been..." He seemed to struggle for a second. "Wiped clean."

"What are we gonna do Doctor?" Tommy asked, desperation in his voice. That was what got Y/n to move. He stepped toward the boy, his hand reaching out to comfort Tommy. Before he got there, his shoulder brushed Mr. Connolly's and a realization hit him like a freight train. He spun to face the man as Tommy added, "We can't even feed her."

Y/n made eye contact with Mr. Connolly. The men were the only ones out of the room, and therefore no one heard him when he whispered, "This is your fault."

"What?" Mr. Connolly spit.

Just then, the door downstairs banged open, and heavy footsteps could be heard on the stairs. "We've got company," Rose nearly groaned, too upset by the faceless woman to be as sassy as she usually was.

"They've come for her!" Rita lamented, clinging to her son and looking at the Doctor with desperation.

The Doctor jumped into action. "What was she doing before this happened to her?" He demanded. When Rita and Tommy looked at him with stunned confusion, he snapped, "Tell me, quickly! Think!"

"I can't think!" Tommy snapped back. "She doesn't leave the house! She was just..." He reached out to his mother as she covered her face, his words fading as men in suits suddenly surged into the room.

Stepping between the men and the grandma, the Doctor held up his hands to stop this from happening. "Hold on! There are three important, brilliant and complicated reasons why you should listen to me. One-"

He was cut off before he could finish, by the man closest to him snagging him with a solid right hook. The Doctor went flying to the floor and Rose scrambled after him, screaming, "Doctor!" The men threw a blanket over the old woman's head and began to lead her out of the room.

Rita tried to stop them; bless the woman. "Leave her alone!" She demanded, pulling weakly on one of the men's arms. "You'll hurt her! Mum!" She was shoved off by one of the men and Tommy rushed to help her land safely and get back up again. Which left Y/n as the one standing. But he didn't do anything. He stood as Mr. Connolly guided the men out of the house, and he followed behind slowly. Rita and Tommy were after them much faster. "Don't hurt her!" Rita begged. She followed them all the way outside, Tommy right behind her. Once outside the commotion kept up, but Y/n at the top of the stairs didn't hear it. He did however jump into action upon hearing Rita begin to cry.

Whatever spell he was under shattered and he shoved past Mr. Connolly with force, running to the moped the Doctor had left behind to go into the house, kicking it into gear and revving the engine, watching the car with the old woman inside begin to pull away. He paused only to lock eyes with Mr. Connolly yet again, accusation set in his eyes with a cold tone that made the man step back into the house to hide from it. Unfortunately for him, Tommy saw the look as well.

The moment allowed the Doctor to catch up, slipping on the bike behind Y/n and pulling his feet up just in time for TY/n to surge forward, leaving them only a beat behind the car ahead. They chased the vehicle until it turned a corner... a corner that lead to what seemed to be a dead end. There was a closed gate and a cart in front of it. Even a boy swept the street in front of the cart, seeming as if the whole operation had been there for ages.

"Oh, very good," the Doctor congratulated the two men, smirking. The man sweeping smirked back. It clicked in Y/n's head immediately. "It was like this last time too," the Doctor explained anyway. "I chased it and ended up right here, on this street, in front of that gate, with those two people set up in front of it."

"Set up indeed," Y/n sighed, shaking his head.

They settled on a simple solution. They parked the moped and went around the back, walking around the enclosure to find any other entrances or weakened points on the gate. Of course, they found it. It was a door into the building. Something small, too small to be used by people as an entrance. Big enough to be used if one had to though, and no lock was scary enough to go against the sonic screwdriver. They were inside with no problem at all.

It seemed to be some sort of factory. There was the clattering of chains in the distance that they followed into a big room with a a gated enclosure in the middle. Inside the enclosure was dozens of people, all missing their faces. The clattering was coming from the men who had come to the house, who were now locking the grandma inside as well before locking the gate again. They waited for the men to leave before jogging up to the enclosure. The Doctor took out his screwdriver, busted the lock, and they were inside. It seemed a little more complex than it had from a distance though because after opening the first gate, there was a second one that lead to where everyone was actually held. Y/n wondered briefly why there were two gates as the Doctor opened the second and the pair moved into that room, pushing their way into the crowd gently to get a closer look at the faceless people.

They were dormant at first, but as the Doctor took out a torch and began to shine the light on them, their bodies began to twitch and move. Hands began to curl into claws, heads tilting threateningly. And they all turned to Y/n and the Doctor, closing in and pressing the two men against one of the gated walls. They crowded and pushed but didn't harm, and that surprised Y/n at first. Unfortunately, they did cause a commotion, which only occurred to the men when a huge light came on behind both of them, from outside the gate. They tried to see who had turned it on and saw only two silhouettes. A man's voice rung out, "Stay where you are."

They were pulled out of the enclosure and taken to two different rooms, sat in chairs, and faced with who seemed to be detectives. The man interrogating Y/n was rather calm and pleasant. "So who are you then?"

Y/n found himself sighing. "My name is Y/n."

The officer smiled, seeming pleased with Y/n's cooperative approach. "What are you doing here?"

"We're trying to figure out what's happening, so we can help and stop it," Y/n answered without hesitating. He said it with conviction, his body so relaxed but his eyes so full of honesty that there was simply no room to doubt him. He was telling the whole truth, and nothing else.

It was the best move to make, and it went over well. "What do you know?"

"Probably as much as you guys do. Bunch of people. Faces missing. What you might not know is that their brains are basically shut off. Like someone's taken their entire consciousness. A body with no person inside it, thinking and feeling and walking. It's a wisp of a ghost of humanity. No one's manning the controls." His shoulders dropped. "They're dormant."

Fairly enough, it was upsetting to the detective as well. "That's all you know?"

Y/n scoffed. "Maybe if you did less interrogating and tying me to chairs, I could be out there figuring out what's going on. My partner, where is he? We need to start working on this. Sitting around asking someone who knows barely more than you do is getting neither of us anywhere."

Sitting back, the officer gave a sort of amused smirk. "Down to business then. Alright, let the man go."

"But sir," one of the other men questioned. "Shouldn't we wait for the DI?"

The officer shook his head. "We need to find them and reunite these men who are here to help us. Come along, we've got work to do." And with that, Y/n was untied and they all headed to where the Doctor was being kept. A man who Y/n suspected was the DI was sat with the Doctor, looking non too far off from where the man who's been with Y/n had ended up - perplexed but trusting.

When they came into the room, the Doctor grinned upon seeing Y/n. "I can always count on you to get them to trust us, Y/n. Why do people listen to you so much better?"

"I'm approachable?" Y/n offered.

The Doctor nodded. "No that sounds about right."

Once the Doctor was untied as well, they all moved into the office where the DI began to catch up the other two men. "We started finding them about a month ago. Persons left 'sans visage'. Heads just... blank."

"Any sort of pattern?" The Doctor asked, eager to get down to business.

"It's spreading out from North London, all over the city. Men, women, kids, grannies. Only real lead is, there's been quite a large number in-"

The Doctor cut him off as he began to riffle through papers, finding the information himself. "-Florizel Street," he finished. His brow was creased in the way that it did when he was thinking and trying to understand. Looking at information and dissecting it. Taking it all in and organizing it to make sense of any kind of madness. It was a look Y/n had come to look on fondly.

There was a knock at the door to the office and Y/n went from admiring to in pain rather quickly.

"Found another one sir."

All eyes turned as the DI gave a half hearted, "Oh, good man, Crabtree. Here we are, Doctor. See what you can deduce." Y/n noticed that it was a woman immediately. There was a blanket over her head, but she was wearing a skirt. A pink skirt. A pink skirt that Y/n had seen recently, and could recognize almost immediately.

No.

No!

The one who had walked the woman into the room took the blanket off of her head, revealing-

"Rose," the Doctor lamented weakly.

Y/n's body went weak. He trailed after the Doctor, moving closer to her in order to reach out and touch her cheek. If she were normal, she would have leaned into it, a smile on her face. Maybe even winked at Y/n. But now... her face was blank, all features gone, leaving only shallow dents where they all should be.

"Do you two know her?" The DI asked.

"Know her? She..." The Doctor trailed off, a tension to his face as he struggled to voice what Y/n so often did. That she was his girlfriend, or companion, or maybe something else that explained what they all were better, in stronger words that painted the picture more clearly and drove home the feelings they shared. That he so much more than just knew her.

When he said nothing else, Y/n offered something. "She's out partner. We travel together." He wished he hadn't said anything. That he'd stopped as the Doctor had, because those words weren't sufficient, but he also knew he had no right to speak for the Doctor's feelings when he couldn't even admit them to himself. And... I mean, would these old fashioned people understand it anyway, when they couldn't even be okay with the Doctor and Y/n being together, let alone Rose as well?

To fill the sudden painful silence in the room, the man who'd brought Rose in began to fill in missing information. "They found her in the street apparently, down by Damascus Road. Just abandoned. That's unusual. That's the first one out in the open." He went to talk more, but Y/n was finished right there.

"I'm sorry say that again?"

"Sorry?" the DI offered, not sure as to what part Y/n had meant.

The Doctor spoke again. "Where did you say they left her?" He kept his eyes on Rose, his features being replaced with anger where the concentration and focus and puzzle piecing had been before. Gears turned now so much faster, the fire that drove him burning brighter. He was the sort of man that moved slower when angry, because every single move counted. It was when he was soft and slow that the Doctor was most dangerous.

The other men in the room seemed to sense that. "Just... in the street."

"In the street," the Doctor repeated, his face relaxing as he rose his eyebrows. "They left her in the street. They took her face and just chucked her out and left her in the street." His voice was dropping, the anger curling around his words as his body relaxed. All his hesitations that usually kept him so in line melted away and he was calmer than he ever was. "And as a result, that makes things..." He paused, eyes still trained on where Rose's face should be. "- Simple. Very, very simple. Do you know why?" He took his glasses off, finally looking away from Rose in favor of turning to face the others in the room.

"No," the DI answered, his nervousness plain.

"Because now, Detective Inspector Bishop" the Doctor seethed. "There is no power on this Earth that can stop me." He looked at Y/n. "You ready?"

Anger had a vastly different effect on Y/n. Unlike with the Doctor where anger calmed him, anger fueled Y/n. It drove him, energized him. I suppose it was because the Doctor was a man capable of great evil, and therefore a man who had many rules that usually held him back. These rules locked that potential up tight so he could channel it into good things. When he was angry, those rules flew out the window and let him loose so that he had no inhibitions or hesitations. His potential, either good or evil, was at full capacity and would be stopped by no one. Y/n was the exact opposite. He was always calm, always level headed. His mind was a machine, and it flowed smoothly. He never felt the need to lead, only to support and pop in when it was necessary. But when he was angry? Oh, when he was angry, it blinded him and clogged those gears so the machine was stopped. All the energy that usually went into keeping him calm and level headed went into charging his mind to think better and harder, and his body into working faster and going further.

Usually, the Doctor was a man of great power and goodness and when he slipped or needed help, Y/n was there to keep the peace and fill in holes the Doctor had missed and pick up the slack. The Doctor pulled the chariot and Y/n picked up the things that fell out.

Now, Y/n was unhinged and the Doctor was unleashed and neither were about to stop the other. There were only two men on the path of vengeance for someone who had hurt the woman they both loved, and nothing - NOTHING - was going to get in the way of them getting her back.

Y/n smiled. "Always."

So they were off.

They headed out, blazing a trail of fire behind them, headed right back where they'd come from. The sun was up, and Tommy Connolly opened the door to find Y/n and the Doctor. "Tommy," the Doctor said in a voice that left no room for negotiation. "Talk to me." Tommy threw a glance to the inside of the house before coming out, closing the door behind him. "I need to know exactly what happened inside your house."

It was then Mr. Connolly decided to intervene. "What the blazes do you think you're doing?" the pathetic man spat at his son.

"I wanna help, Dad!" Tommy begged weakly.

"Mr. Connolly-" the Doctor began.

And then Mr. Connolly made a huge error. He turned to the Doctor and sneered, "Shut your face, you."

Y/n reacted immediately. He surged forward, ramming Mr. Connolly against the wall of the house. Their noses almost touched, and Y/n practically growled, "I've had enough of you. You think you're bigger than you are and I've had enough of it. You're going to stop intervening and you're going to stop disrespecting your family and the Doctor and myself, and you're going to let your son be helpful like the decent human being he is and you're going to be grateful that Tommy didn't turn out anything like you did, do you understand me?"

There was something in Y/n's eyes. Something that made Mr. Connolly genuinely cower. The Doctor put a hand on Y/n's shoulder and the man backed down immediately, letting Mr. Connolly go. "You don't understand," Mr. Connolly groaned. "You two are ruining everything! I have a position to maintain. People around here respect me. You don't care what people think of you and that's fine, but those successful know that it matters what people think!"

"Is that why you did it, Dad?" All eyes turned to Tommy.

"Did what?" Mr. Connolly asked his voice tinged with panic. "You ratted on Gran," Tommy accused. "How else would the police know where to look? Unless a coward told them."

"How dare you," Mr. Connolly hissed quietly, still beaten down by Y/n's previous actions, but fueled again by Tommy's insult. "You think I fought a war just so a mouthy scum like you  could call me a coward?"

Tommy was having none of that though. "You don't get it do you? You fought against fascism, remember? People telling you how to live. Who you could be friends with. Who you could fall in love with. Who could live and who had to die. Don't you get it? You were fighting so that little twerps like me could do what we want. Say what we want. Now you've become just like them. You've been informing on everyone, haven't you? Even Gran. All to protect your precious reputation!"

"You'll learn, Mr. Connolly," Y/n said in a low voice. "It doesn't matter what OTHER people say or think about you. It matters what your friends and family think. It matters that you go to bed at night with a clear conscious and look at yourself in the mirror and see someone you like. Be honest. Have you been able to look yourself in the eye since you started tell the police where everyone was? Since you betrayed your own family, all so you could look good to what you think people wanted you to be? Cause I can tell you now, no one's going to like you for this. For taking away their family and ratting on them. For making everyone scared in their homes. On their own streets."

"Everyone who matters will appreciate what I did," Mr. Connolly spat defensively.

"So it's true then." The door opened, revealing Mrs. Connolly. Mr. Connolly reached out for her but she pulled away.

"I did it for us, Rita," Mr. Connolly explained, panicking at the betrayed look on the poor woman's face. "She was filthy! A filthy, disgusting thing!"

Y/n took a step back, and then another. He tripped on the second step as he hit the end of the concrete, but was thankfully far enough out of view that no one saw. But he saw. And what he saw... He wished he hadn’t.

"I wish people like that wouldn't go about. It's disgusting."

"Oh look away dear, it means nothing to you."

"It's just gross! Can't they do it somewhere else?"

"They're only holding hands."

"She kissed her cheek!"

"And?"

"And it's not right. I'm trying to spend time with my family. Why can't they be normal? Look, even Y/n looks upset by it."

"Are you upset, Y/n? We can go."

Y/n looked at his parents, feeling small. He was small, but he had never felt small. He'd always quite big, actually. Too big to hide in the spaces he wished he'd fit better in. Too big to run as fast and as far as he wanted to. Too big to fade away and be gone from this moment. Too big, in the middle of a quart yard, feeling like every set of eyes that could see him did. That was how he usually felt. But now... now he felt so small that he was terrified of being stepped on. He looked into his father's eyes, soft but distant. Too far away to reach. Too dislodged to understand. Y/n looked at his mother next. The way she looked at the two women who had eventually felt her stare and looked back, leaving to escape the horrible feeling her nasty glare left under their skin. Y/n wished he could go with them. How could one person hate two people being happy so much that it made one's skin crawl? That it made people run, just with the power of the look in her eyes alone. Why did she feel the need to say anything at all? Why couldn't she be pleasant and far away like dad?

A hand rested on Y/n's shoulder and he was pulled into the present. He looked over at the Doctor, who had a very knowing expression on his face at that moment. They exchanged a look and Y/n nodded, both to recognize that they would talk about it later and that he would be okay until then. For now, they had much more important things to worry about.

With that clear, they both turned their attention back to Tommy and his parents. It seemed Y/n had missed something, as the door was now closed. With the way Mr. Connolly was yelling anguished cries for his wife to open the door, Y/n got the feeling that Mr. Connolly's world had just come crashing down.

"Tommy," the Doctor said, reaching out for the boy. Tommy moved closer to him, and those two, Y/n, and DI Bishop all left Mr. Connolly at the door. They had important business to get to, and Tommy had a lot to catch them up on. As they walked, the Doctor got to business. "Tell me about that night. The night she changed."

As they walked, Tommy watched his feet, trying to remember. "She was just watching the telly," he offered weakly, obviously feeling guilty as not giving what was being looked for. How wrong he was though.

"Rose said it," the Doctor realized. He spun around, eyes shooting to all the different antenna. Too many dishes for this year, this time. "She said it from the start. All these aeriels in one little street. How come?" He settled on looking at Tommy for an answer.

The boy delivered. "The bloke Mr. Magpie. He's selling them up the street?" The Doctor and Y/n looked at each other before taking off, Tommy and the DI pausing only a second before kicking into gear after the Doctor yelled at them. The four made it to Magpie's place, the Doctor breaking the window on the door to reach through and unlock it, pushing inside. The DI actually tried to stop him - which was fair since he was a cop and all -but the Doctor wasn't listening.

The second they were inside, the Doctor was at the desk in a flash, ringing the little desk bell heatedly. "If you're here, come out and talk to me!" the Doctor screamed. "MAGPIE!"

Y/n skipped the desk and went directly behind, searching the whole place for any signs of the man, vengeance in his eyes. Luckily for Magpie, he didn't appear to be in. "No one," Y/n announced as he went back to the front, in answer o the Doctor's heated, questioning gaze.

The Doctor went behind the desk as well, beginning to dig through the drawers for any hints of clues. He was successful as always. "Oh hello," he grumbled, pulling out a sort of portable television, from what it seemed to be. It was rectangular shaped, but almost like an etch-a-sketch, with dials below a blank, dark screen.

Moving to the Doctor's shoulders, Y/n squinted his eyes as he got a better look at the thing. "That's not supposed to be here." Y/n tilted his head. "Not on Earth. Not anywhere near humans. That's too advanced for hundreds of years from now, let alone 1970's or wherever."

In response, the Doctor licked the device. "Tastes like iron." He looked at Y/n. "Bakelite." He put the thing on the counter in front of him, pulling out his sonic screwdriver to scan it. "Put together by human hands, I'll give that. But you're right, the design itself..." The sonic sounded, following by the Doctor making a noise of appreciative surprise. "Oh, beautiful work. That is so simple."

"That's incredible," DI Bishop mused. "It's like a television, but portable. A portable television." Y/n almost smiled at the amazement in his voice. He briefly wondered how the man would react to Netflix.

The thought was derailed as the Doctor lifted the screwdriver to eye level, and tellies began to switch on around them in the room. Each screen was just filled with white static, but the fact that they'd reacted so strongly to the signal in the first place wasn't the greatest of signs. "That's not the only signal in this room," the Doctor told the others. Suddenly the static died and the screens cleared, the static falling away to reveal a bunch of faces. Just faces on dark screens, all sad or scared. Some screaming, some crying, some silently shaking as they looked into a void and tried to find a way out. It was only a few seconds, each clip, and it repeated, so that people were stuck in two or three seconds of utter fear.

Y/n launched forward, eyes scanning each screen frantically until he squatted down, pausing as his hands rested on either side of a screen with the face of a girl screaming one word over and over again. It was Rose, and she was calling for the Doctor. When Y/n felt a presence beside him he scooted over to let the Doctor squat beside him, both men looking at Rose call for help over and over and over again. She looked so afraid, and in the blackness of the screen around her was reflected two expressions. One, the Doctor, whose eyes were full of pain and whose face was lined with love and worry. It was a sad expression, easy and delicate and affectionate. The other face was Y/n's, which was curled in anger. Not like it had been before, where it was hot and unforgiving and hard and terrifying. No, this anger was painful to look at. Like he was about to cry. He reached out a hand and gently touched the screen, wishing he could touch Rose's face and tell her everything was going to be okay.

Next to him, the Doctor reached out a hand too, to touch the other side of the screen that Y/n did. "We're coming," the Doctor promised.

The sound of beads being moved sounded. The same sound that had happened when Y/n had rushed into the back, searching for Magpie. Because there was a curtain of beads in the doorframe-

"What do you think you're doing?" Y/n and the Doctor looked at Magpie at the same time, pain being replaced with that anger from before. Merciless anger that could only be described as wrath.

The Doctor stood, marching toward Magpie with determination, every move fast and full of threat. "I want my friends restored and I think that's beyond a little back street electrician, so tell me, who's really in charge here?" Y/n backed him up, both of them leaning into Magpie who looked downright terrified.

Suddenly there was a voice. "Yoohoo!" It was such a shock because it was a woman's voice. A voice which shouldn't be possible as all men were in the room. Everyone turned to see a new woman on one of the screens. Except she wasn't just a face, she was hair and a body and a dress and arms as well. She sat on the telly as if she was a program, except her smile was too smug and her eyes were too cold. It probably was even more of a give away when she added, "That would probably be me," in what was definitely a response to the Doctor's question. A question she shouldn't be able to hear as she should have been a recording of something that had happened weeks ago. "Ooh," the woman hummed. "This one's smart as paint. And look at his little guard dog, ready to bite." She almost chuckled, the laugh sitting on her face even as the noise didn't come out.

"Is she talking to us?" DI Bishop asked.

"I'm sorry gentleman, I'm afraid you brought this on yourselves," Magpie apologized rather pathetically. "May I introduce you to my new-" he cut off, probably choking as he finished, "Friend." He swallowed and Y/n almost rolled his eyes.

"Truly nice to meet you," the woman on the screen greeted.

"Oh my god it's here," DI Bishop exclaimed. "That woman on the telly."

The Doctor's expression was dark. "No. It's just using her image."

"What?" Tommy asked, dumbfounded and confused. "What are you?" he asked the woman when neither the Doctor nor Y/n responded to his first question.

"I'm The Wire," the not-woman responded. "And I will gobble you up, pretty boy." On instinct Y/n pushed Tommy behind him; Tommy didn't resist. When Tommy was gone, the Wire's eyes moved up to look at Y/n instead. "Every last morsel. And when I have feasted, I shall regain the corporeal body, which my fellow kind denied me." As she spoke, the black and white screen suddenly filled with color, and Y/n realized she was showing off. Threatening and she flexed to show how much power she already had, just from the few people she'd fed off of. From Rose.

"Good lord." DI Bishop's eyes were wide. "Colour television!" Once again, Y/n had to try to not roll his eyes. To these people, that was a miracle.

The Doctor cut in on the moment. "So your own people tried to stop you."

"They executed me," the Wire spat. "But I escaped, in this form and fled across the stars."

"And now you're trapped in the television," the Doctor taunted. At his words, the color on the screen faded and it returned to black and white.

"Not for much longer." Despite her words, it gave Y/n hope to see her color fade. Her show of power had been quite temporary, which meant she was far, far weaker than she was trying to seem. That meant she would be much easy to defeat than she wanted to let on.

"This is what got my Gran?" Tommy asked, hands reaching out to tug on Y/n's sleeve.

Because Tommy was touching him, Y/n responded first. "Indeed. You don't know this yet I don't think, but people's minds work off of electricity. Little shocks all throughout the mind that send messages and information all around so it can power the rest of the body. She traps the minds and feeds off of them, and she does it by sapping away their faces. Ever heard, 'the eyes are the windows to the souls'? Well it's wrong, they're actually the doors, and once you open it it's very hard to close."

Feelings eyes on him, Y/n looked over to see the Doctor was surprised. It didn't last long though as the Doctor looked to Tommy, his anger coming back again as he added, "Problem is, it gorges itself like some great, over-fed pig." His eyes moved back to the Wire, spitting as he continued to get even angrier. "Taking people's faces, their essences, as it stuffs itself." The Wire looked very amused by that and Y/n was almost tempted to step forward and add some nasty words of his own, if Tommy hadn't still been holding onto him, keeping him back.

Probably for the best.

"And you let her do it, Magpie," the DI sneered at the electrician still cowering where the Doctor had left him before.

"I had to! She let me keep my face," Magpie whined. It was like a shark biting you then getting mad when you lashed out. It only made Y/n more angry. "She's promised to release me at the time of manifestation."

"What does that mean?" Tommy demanded.

"The appointed time," the Wire responded evenly. "My crowning glory."

That sentence set off the DI and Y/n at the same time. the DI shouted, "Doctor, the Coronation!" at the same time that Y/n lamented, "Oh my god the Coronation" as he rose a hand to cover his mouth, horrified as he began to realize the Wire's plan.

"For the first time in history, millions gathered round a television set," the Doctor confirmed. He turned smug as he took a step toward the screen. "But you're not strong enough yet, are you?" The Wire seemed to want to say something, but had nothing to throw back. The Doctor was right. "You can't do it all from here. That's why you need this!" He held up the screen from earlier, which Y/n only now realized he'd been carrying around the entire time. "You need something more powerful. This will turn a big transmitter into a big receiver."

"What a clever thing you are," the Wire sarcastically congratulated. "But why fret about it? Why not just relax? Kick off your shoes and enjoy the coronation. Believe me, you'll be glued to the screen."

"Well obviously we wouldn't-" But he didn't get to finish his sentence, because before Y/n could quip out a snarky response, suddenly there was a bright light and his whole body was beginning to ache. Slowly, starting at his fingers and toes, a sort of sharp numbness began to spread through his body. Began to eat at him, but by bit, until he was consumed. It never did get all of him, but even when the numbness faded and the world should have come back into view, that bright white light didn't go away. Y/n closed his eyes and felt a sort of fuzzy distance, but that white light didn't go anywhere. It was just muffled a little behind his eyelids.

For a while, Y/n didn't want to look. There was a fear in his heart that kept his eyes very closed. The white light wasn't too bright to look at or painful or consuming, it was just... terrifying. There was something that told him if he opened his eyes, he would see something terrible.

Unfortunately, Y/n was a companion of the Doctor. He maybe even had a little bit of what made the Doctor so wonderful and fantastic and brave inside of him, put there by experiences and memories that weren't his. Things that made people on such a deep level; mistakes and terrors. Things more terrible than some stupid white light could scare him with. So he opened his eyes, and he saw. And it was just as terrible as he thought it would be.

Suddenly he sucked in a breath and shot up into a sitting position, scrambling away from the wall of TV screens. He was breathing heavily, head spinning and heart racing. He looked around and saw DI Bishop, who was much more still but who seemed a little jarred himself. Though I suppose, no one was as upset by the experience just had as Y/n was. The Wire placated her victims, holding them in a cocoon of disconnection. Uncomfortable, but not upsetting. Not anything like what Y/n had just seen.

The door to Magpie's shop opened and the Doctor was there, eyes finding Y/n with an expression that was a mix of victory and worry. The worry grew as the Doctor realized Y/n seemed to be in a far more stable state than the Detective had been, which he didn't seem surprised about. Kneeling down, the Doctor placed a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "What happened?"

Y/n swallowed. "She took my face."

Even before the Doctor spoke, Y/n knew that was wrong though. "No, she didn't. You were fine. She was focused on the detective, and hadn't gotten to you, me, or Tommy yet. But when I got Tommy to wake up you just... lay there." He swallowed. "I thought you might have died."

At that, Y/n gave the only reassurance he could. "Well you and I both know that's not the case."

The Doctor nodded. "Right so. Stay here, I'll be back." He went and got Tommy, and then the four men - reunited again - all moved out of the shop. Shakily, as Y/n seemed to be having a hard time staying on his feet. Finally though, with a little help from Tommy, they managed to get Y/n out of the shop and down the street to head back to where all of the people who'd been taken were. If this was one of those happy endings, everyone would be back to normal. And considering Rose was one of them... well, they all had fingers crossed.

It didn't take long. They got far enough that Y/n only needed a little help from Tommy, and they moved a lot faster. They turned a corner, and saw a crowd of people surging out of the place where all the Wire's victims had been held. Y/n recognized a few body shapes and hair colors and outfits. Everyone was fine, just as they'd hoped. With the Wire gone, all consciousness had been returned to their bodies and people were in great condition. Well, good condition. Y/n was sure there might be some emotional damage. Disassociation was detrimental enough, without your very being being fed on.

But anyway, that wasn't the important thing. The important thing was that everyone was more or less completely fine. Which meant-

"Gran!" Tommy explained.

Tommy went to run, but paused as Y/n was still leaning on him. The man leaned away from the boy, waving him on. "I'll be fine. You go." With that, Tommy was gone. Y/n stayed where he was, leaning against the wall, afraid if he leaned off he might collapse. But then he saw Rose. He saw the Doctor surging toward her grinning face, and he felt his own body moving as well. Despite his worries about his current state of being, Y/n pushed off the wall and headed over as well. He was proud of himself for only limping a little bit.

Rose and the Doctor had the cutest reunion hug, and Y/n approached them as they parted. There was a grin on his face as he said, "All good now?"

"More than," Rose agreed. She hugged Y/n next, jumping in surprise as he groaned in pain. She leaned back much quickly, worry on her face as it had been on the Doctor's earlier, and was again. "Are you okay? You seem... hurt. What did you let happen to him?" She shot this at the Doctor, who was about to defend himself when Y/n did it for him.

"I just didn't handle the TV sucking my mind out of my body as well as you did," he tried to dismiss. "Really I'm fine. We fell after we got all zapped. I might have just landed wrong, really. Lots of different reasons, none of them anything you need to worry about." He reached up both hands, holding Rose's face. She was taken aback by the look in his eyes when he looked at her now. Like they hadn't seen each other in years, or he had believed he'd never see her again. To be fair, after the events of today, it was a fair look for one to have. "I love you. Have I said that recently?"

Rose cocked an eyebrow. "No partic-" Y/n kissed her, cutting her off. The kiss was hard and desperate and full of emotion that rocked her to her core. Rose felt her head rush and her heart race and her body shivered a bit before she registered the way he was holding her face. He was gripping it. Clinging to her like if she let go, she'd be gone forever. When they parted, she realized he was crying. "Y/n, are you sure you're okay?" She whispered, reaching a hand up to wipe the tear.

"Yeah." His voice cracked though, so it was quite unconvincing. "I'm just... I'm so glad you're okay, Rose. I really, really am." He stroked her cheek. "I'm never letting anything like that happen to you ever again."

She almost told him that he couldn't control what happened to her in this life of theirs, but Rose got the feeling that if she did, he might break down. So she just nodded and smiled and reassured, "Of course you will. You and the Doctor would never let anything really terrible happen to me. We're gonna be together forever, the three of us."

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. "Right," Y/n weakly agreed. He turned away, collecting himself. "Forever." His eyes moved across the crowd. "I think we deserved a bit of celebration. Come on!" And suddenly he was perfectly fine. Every few steps he winced just a little, but his smile was wide and his eyes were cleared. Like he had never been upset or hurt at all. The Doctor had been silent and nervous, constantly looking at Y/n again and again, but eventually the celebration got to even him and they were all forgetting their troubles and having a great time. Together again and inseparable.

For now.

Amidst all the fun, they ran into Tommy again and the Doctor gave his scooter as a present. It was a nice moment, but quickly messed up by Tommy seeing his dad again. Mr. Connolly seemed to be packed and suited up. Going somewhere. Leaving. "Good riddance," Tommy mumbled, face torn with hate.

"Is that it then, Tommy?" The Doctor asked, turning to watch Mr. Connolly go as well. "New monarch, new age, new world. No room for a man like Eddie Connolly."

"That's right," Tommy confirmed solidly. "He deserves it."

Rose leaned closer to the young boy. "Tommy, go after him."

Y/n cut in right there. "Never ever feel pressure to forgive someone who has abused you." He looked right at Tommy, and the Doctor and Rose went silent. "You are never required to let that person back into your life and don't you let anyone say otherwise." Y/n cleared his throat, his voice softening. "You should forgive him. If you don't, that anger you feel right now? It'll stay there inside you forever, and it'll turn you into him one day. You can't let it. You're too good to let someone else's mistakes ruin your future like that. You deserve better. And... you can give him another chance if you want. You can. But understand something: losing a parent is terrible. It sucks and it hurts, and it leaves a hole in your life forever. But that hole will always stay the size it is when that person leaves your life. Letting someone like your dad back in cold just widen that hole. Make it worse. Hurt it more. I'm not saying he will make it worse or he hasn't learned better. You can go after him, and that's your choice, and you're allowed to do that." Y/n reached out, placing his hand on Tommy's shoulder. "But you can't save him Tommy. Not from himself. You can't save anyone from themselves. You have to prioritize yourself and keep yourself safe first. So if you go after him, go because you want to. Not because he'll be sad or lonely or you think he needs you. Okay?"

Tommy had a very soft look on his face. One full of relief. Y/n's words had lifted a large burden off of his shoulders, and he nodded, smiling. "Thank you, Y/n. I... God, thank you."

Y/n smiled. "You're very welcome." With that, Tommy left the group. He walked back to his house, hesitated, and then did go after his dad. Y/n smiled to himself. "What a good lad."

"Very good," Rose agreed. But when Y/n looked over, she was looking at him, not Tommy.

Looking at his hands, Y/n cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cut you off I just-"

"No," Rose rushed to reassure. "You were right. I forget, sometimes... that not having a dad. It's not the worse thing that can happen to you. Sometimes it's better." She swallowed. "I was lucky to have a good dad. And an even better mum." At that, she pulled Y/n's chin so their eyes met. "I never properly apologized to you. For what happened in the parallel world. I pushed you to forgive her, and you knew from the beginning you shouldn't. She really hurt you and I pushed you to get there so she could."

Y/n shook his head and then wrapped his arm around her shoulder, tucking her into his side. Her arms went around his middle to hug him, her cheek resting against his chest. "It's not your fault, Rose. It's hers. Don't you dare blame yourself for that." The Doctor moved closer, using the table behind them and his body to block the view as he took Y/n's hand.

"All that matters if we're safe and together," the Doctor finalized.

And for now, that was true enough.

-

Story Tag List: @e-reads-fics​ @shoochi​

Male reader taglist: @sheepfather​

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

34. Ivory

Previous Trigger Warnings for mentions of underage/revenge porn, mentions of eating disorder Word Count: 8388

Between Grace making that post of her rapping along to Captain Hook, her saying "aye aye" to Simon in comments, and this photo of Simon's D print in the gray sweatpants, I'm starting to think he's packing a curve 👀

Simon Laurent "liked"

Commenter: He is! Did you never see the old sex tape?

Poster: The WHAT? No… But, wait… I thought that they dated in school. You mean like something that happened after that?

Commenter: They were in school, but it was online for the longest time before she snitched, so I’m sure somebody still has it out there…

Poster: That’s gross. I’m not that desperate to see it that I wanna look at some kids doing it. No thank you.

Simon Laurent “liked”

Commenter is blocked by Simon.

.

Grace was in the grocery store with her mother and brother, and Zasha, a white samoyed puppy that Mrs. Monroe had purchased from a breeder… to potentially train to be in competitions, and Zasha’s handler. Why did Mrs. Monroe bring Zasha into the store, just to have someone else hold her? For the same reason that the nanny was also there, tending to Montanus. “Because, that is literally what I pay them to do.” But… we’re at the grocery store and didn’t even have to BRING them! Grace didn’t argue.

However, she did wonder if she was suffering from some type of weird mid life crisis, or just a rich, bored woman whose husband was working more and more all of the time, despite supposedly getting closer to retirement. Then, she wondered if they weren’t doing so well. But, she kept those wonders to herself, as it would frighten her to know whatever the truth was if it was anything other than her mother did whatever she wanted because she could afford to. 

Plus, she wanted to get out of the house, and apparently that had been reduced to tagging along with Grace at the grocery store, in case she needed help. “You’re almost 6 months, correct? How has it been? Online, one would swear that you’re Diahanne Caroll in her prime. You’ve rarely broken a sweat. Is that for your fans?”

Grace shook her head and read the label of something before putting it into her cart, “I haven’t had any problems, except for eating way more than I used to and getting gas, but those calcium chews usually help with that and I bounce right back. You know, I’ve always taken really great care of myself, think things through and pay top dollar for the finest self care. I guess that the baby is pleased with their temporary temple.” She smiled at her mom and noticed the woman looked leery. “I know… you had a very rough pregnancy with me. Believe me, I remember this fact, but I haven’t been having that experience, personally. In fact… Did you know that I’ve gained THOUSANDS of new followers since they’ve seen that I was pregnant. Pregnant people have been asking me what I use for this and for that and I’ve been plugging my brand, since we’ve got the pregnancy line now. It’s been sensational. I’ve had a blast!” 

Grace had been working on a blog about her pregnancy, which she began with a video addressing all of the questions to all of the people who were not her. 

“Hey, Those That Are Graced!” She’d cheered into the camera, “Happy New Year! I know that I’ve been unavailable to reach out too, and believe me, I do miss interacting with fans and followers, but I am currently not working on my career, to focus on other things in my life. Just to touch base with everyone, I feel like we’ve had this discussion before and those of you who actually respect me would definitely not need it repeated, but there have been so many new faces of possibly unfamiliar followers that I am revisiting notes that I have in all of my bios… 

First, my professional life is one thing, my private life is another. I extend myself professionally, and over the past few months, even though I have not actually been working, I’ve still been spending time providing everyone with content. Please do not send messages, comments, or questions for me to any of my friends, and especially not to my family members, Hazel in particular. She is 12 and shouldn’t have adults bothering her for information that not only isn’t her concern, but isn’t your concern. She wants to be able to enjoy the limited hours of screen time that she’s allowed. That becomes difficult for her when people are asking her hundreds of questions that literally are related to her mother’s sex life. 

Second, my professional life is offered at my discretion, as well. Whenever there is product that I think you should try, I will announce it. If I’m not familiar with a product or no arrangements have been made for me to try a product or I’m unaware of a product… my comments is not the place for said product. That is including everything from your all natural care supplies, book recommendations, your demos, your dance videos… Like… I LOVE receiving those things, but whenever I open my comments back up, that is not where those things go. 

I have links for email addresses for avenues of business, entertainment, etc on my website, and if nothing else, my website is featured on every form of social media that I have. I am the person who goes through those emails. I am NOT the person who checks my social media messages, so you will never get a response from me through those and run the risk of me not seeing something if you send it there instead. 

Third, my spaces have boundaries and moderators to enforce those boundaries. Whenever you’ve been allowed to be a guest in any of my spaces or my child’s spaces, you treat that shit like Afropunk - “No sexism, no racism, no ableism, no homophobia, no fatphobia, no transphobia, no hatefulness.” And then, since I’m not Afropunk and I have even greater needs, and can’t believe I have to say this much else: No pedophilia, no inappropriate interactions with a minor, no incestuous ideation, and no nudity. My moderators are quick, but not perfect. Your fellow guests and neighbors in my spaces should never have to see jokes about my mother and I engaged in sexual acts together, or worse, my UNDERAGE daughter, and no - Hazel and I posting a dance video is not an invitation for someone to make comments that because she might be fluid in her movements that it is sexually suggestive and if ever we find one of those headass posts where you put a photo of my beautiful daughter up, say something obscene or rude or ask, “Thoughts?” Simon finds out your IP address, sometimes more than that and he doxxes your ass. Ask around. If threats of violence or suggestions of harm are given… he might show up at your house and I don’t know what to even tell you about that one, because I’m not at liberty to say, according to the lawyers.” 

She smiled, relaxed, unclenched her teeth that she realized had been clenched since she began her greater needs. 

“Fourth, leave Hazel alone. She isn’t going to add you, because she is not allowed to add adults that she does not know. If you follow her public figure pages, those are for her poetry, her brand, her rapping, her artwork, her theater program, and whatever announcements she wants to share with her fans about her personal life, which is usually vague and innocent. If Hazel posts that she had a great time at the premiere of some movie, that is not the place to ask her personal questions. The place to ask her personal questions is nowhere! We don’t have a space created for strangers to ask her personal questions. She sometimes will be allowed to grant an interview, in which she will answer a professional about appropriate questions that have been approved.

Fifth, shut up about Simon! Shut up about Simon! I swear to you… In the past few years that Simon and I have been in communication and the ones that we’ve been in close communication, I KNOW that you realize that we are communicating, but that falls under my private life, which I have not created a space in the public for.

Now… you may speak with Simon about whatever things he speaks about in his private life, I can’t control that, but what I can control and do control is what he will or won’t say about me, even in HIS space. Yes. I got it like that, and what will happen, is Simon will be seeing this, and he is very good at remembering details and he will memorize everything that I’ve said here and he will respect that and enforce it, even in HIS space. 

Which leads me to my last thing… There’s a lot of Esmoroth fanfolk in my spaces now and you all act a certain way in your little Esmoroth corner of the Internet… but in here, in Grace’s space, you better act like you’ve been tossed to the feet of the Idol Princess when her pheromones are igniting the internal flame of servitude. Because, we stan the Idol Princess in this space, and you’d better act right.”

After the release of the 3rd book and return of the Idol Princess aka the Future Queen, several fans were disappointed and had called Simon out for “pandering.” But, several MORE fans came around. He was competing for top spots with the YA novel greats after the 3rd book. But… that also meant more fans to be in Grace’s business. 

Her New Year’s announcement remained pinned at the top of her page and the next post was text, “Oh, yeah. Last but not least, you may have noticed that I’m pregnant. I’ll be featuring some of my favorite findings on my maternity journey here, so please stay tuned if you’re pregnant, expecting, or planning, for what I think and hope will be some helpful tips for your journey!”

Most of the Esmoroth fandom didn’t like her very much, but they also “just couldn’t stay away. Aside from the Grace in Maternity blog, she still didn’t have social media open for commentary, though she did sometimes pass through Simon’s or Hazel’s comments and engaged a little bit with them. She pinned the video to other sites and then just didn’t really visit them again much.

“I could barely walk whenever I was six months pregnant. I had the finest of everything, too,” Mrs. Monroe broke into her thoughts. “Then again, I had what they now call an eating disorder for several years. I… wasn’t completely… well whenever you were announced…” she looked guilty, like she did whenever she faced her own failures as a mother. “We had to get a 24 hour nurse to keep me… healthy. By seven months, I could hardly get out of bed.”

Grace furrowed her eyebrows, “Mom… you’ve never told me that you had an eating disorder. Did you ever get help for it?”

“Help? Oh… like… whenever I had to be rushed to the hospital multiple times? Yes. I got help.”

“MOM… Did you ever heal?”

“Wait, are you asking me if I have disordered eating now? Heaven’s no, Grace. I was trapped with your father by the time you were born. I eventually realized that I had to be more… alive and well than I did flawless. We hired a nutritionist and personal chef.”

“Mom… a lot of people need psychological help for something like that.”

“And I come across to you as ‘a lot of people’? Hmph. It’s pathetic enough that I allowed myself to be so weak. I wasn’t going to beg someone to give me the strength I needed.”

“That’s not what it’s like at all…” Grace cupped her mother’s face and said, “There may be things that people need to help you with, Mom. That doesn’t make you weak or whatever else you’ve convinced yourself of. It didn’t make me weak when I needed to get help. It doesn’t make Hazel weak when she needs help…”

Mrs. Monroe waved Grace’s hands off of her face, “As long as you’re fine, have no other concerns.”

“Mom…”

“Were you done with the shopping?” Grace sighed and continued moving. 

.

Simon was pacing, clenching and unclenching his fists. Several of the message boards, every one of his social media platforms, and even at least one of Hazel’s. He’d taken her devices away, but now she was angry and he certainly couldn’t find the words to explain beyond, “You can’t be online right now.” She was scribbling aggressively in one of her paper journals, and fuming. They both were fuming from different but related reasons.

Grace came in with her little shopping entourage and Hazel rushed to her, furiously. 

“Your BOY TOY took my devices DURING screen time and REFUSES to give them back!” Grace’s eyes went wide and she turned to look at Simon, who was pacing and didn’t even seem to hear the accusation, notice that she came in or to see Monty. Something was absolutely wrong here. 

“Help get the groceries and I’ll get your devices, okay?” Grace said and cupped her chin. Hazel was still breathing heavily as she stormed out towards the groceries and Mrs. Monroe settled on the couch. Grace took Simon’s hand and he was startled by her sudden touch. But, the moment he realized it was her, he let out a deep breath and wrapped her up in a tight hug. “Hey. Let’s go talk, okay?” She suggested, rubbing his back. He nodded his head, but didn’t move from the spot or lessen his hold on. She squirmed a little bit and said politely, “Oxygen, Gray Eyes..” He let up and rushed out of the room. Grace followed and watched him flop on the bed and cover his face with his fists. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“We’ve been doing SO well…” He said, shaking his head. 

“We have.” So, this is something that he did wrong? “And the only way that we continue doing well is to be open and caring with each other.” He slicked back the wild hairs that weren’t pulled into his ponytail. He appeared to be in a lot of pain, but she had to get whatever this was settled. “Should I go online? Will I see what happened, if I do?” She pulled out her phone, mumbling, “I’m guessing that’s why Hazel’s stuff was confiscate-” He snatched the phone from her hands and she let out a yelp, both at the audacity and the fact that she didn’t even see him get up. 

“No. I have to tell you. You can’t find out on the Internet. SHE can’t get on. She CAN’T!” 

“Why can’t she? Because, she’s pretty pissed and it IS her screen time…”

“Because, the internet is relentless and unkind, and she’s too young to have to deal with how much. Not today. She’ll… I’ll… give her extra time once it's died down.”

“Tell me what’s going on, Simon.”

He frowned, “Someone brought the tape up.” At first, she was confused. Was this something about the movie? Why would he be so upset as to take Hazel’s… “And it’s recirculating again. I’ve been reporting it and fans have been reporting it and it gets taken down, but more and more people have seen it now and it’s just… too much. I don’t want her to run into it…” NOW, she understood. That tape… which… technically… it was done with a webcam, so it was never a tape, it was a recording, but… “I saw it again… not watched it, but you know, saw a portion of it whenever I was reporting it… God…” He sat down on the bed, “You’re a kid, Grace. You had the rounded face and everything…”

“Ummm… You’re a month and a day older than me, Dude.” she said, sitting down, trying to pretend that she was more calm than her heart was allowing. She could barely breathe, thinking about the feelings that just mentioning that used to bring up for her. She wasn’t sure how she might react to seeing it come up somewhere. But, maybe she should try…

She gently took her phone back, despite his struggling. One stern look and he let it go, realizing that she was determined and he was probably already in a lot of trouble, if something had been triggered. She nodded, “Yep, looks like a few people have tagged me, asking me if I saw that somebody posted it…” She went to the video and he clenched the bedspread, moving his legs uncontrollably and looking straight ahead. “You know, a lot of people used to say that you couldn’t see your face in it, that it was out of frame, but it does come into frame a few times…” she said. She paused, “See?” He shook his head. “Simon, you’re not even gonna indulge me a little bit at a time like this?”

His frown deepened and he took another long breath. She was right. SHE was the victim in this. The least he could do was take a look at his disgusting handiwork. He saw himself and he recoiled. “You were a kid, too,” she said. “Sure, at the time, this hurt more than anything my brain can recall. But… I do know, as a grown ass woman, you were wrong and also were a child. Both of those things can be accurate.”

“We’re only a few years older than Hazel, there. If some kid did something like this to her… I would…”

“I would hope that you’d remember that you were their age once and just as bad.”

“Is… is that how you would react?”

“Oh, hell no. I’ve never done anything like this. I’d kill that fucking kid. But, you would have to be the adult that fucking pulls me off of him…” She laughed and scratched at his beard, “But, nothing like this will happen to Hazel. She’s a good judge of character and we know all of her friends.”

“Your parents knew me too, and I think that they’re pretty good judges of character. Your mom at least. She always knew that I was rotten.”

“No she didn’t! She knew that you weren’t rich, and in her head those two things were the same thing. She knew that you were controlling, and she thought that I was going to sacrifice myself for you, but she didn’t think that you were going to straight up try to assassinate my entire character.” He looked away from her, “And NOW, you are very diligent in making sure that you aren’t crossing any lines, with me and with Hazel, my mother, my father, and I think people in general. This wasn’t long enough ago that it’s not hurtful to think about… but it was long enough ago to not beat yourself up over. But… It is a burden that you designed. So, it’s only right that you explain to Hazel exactly why she shouldn’t be online right now.”

Hazel took it so much better than she had taken him taking away her computer and phone. “Are you serious? I’ll just avoid social media. You KNOW I don’t wanna see anything like that, myself, but I already knew that it existed out there somewhere.” She shook her head, “I don’t like the way you look with clothes ON, think I’d run the risk of seeing you without them?” 

Grace suggested, “Is there anything else you want to say to him? Maybe about how you broke the news to me when I got home?”

“Oh..” Hazel flared her nostrils and rolled her eyes, “Sorry I called you Mom’s Boy Toy… You kinda are, but I shouldn’t say it…” 

Simon laughed, mostly because he was relieved that she wasn’t scarred by him having to talk to her about this video resurfacing. “You kidding? I’m gonna put that on a t-shirt.”

“No cap? Because I have SO many where that came from.”

“We’ve gotta brainstorm.”

“Simpsona T-shirts can be your new thing…” And just like that, Grace watched them be best friends again. Hazel could get mad and stay mad for a long time, but she didn’t like to argue, so even whenever she got mad, she tended to stay to herself until she wasn’t. The two of them left to go sit on the swing set outside of the house they were renting, and Grace sat by her mom on the couch. 

“I don’t even want to know what that was about.”

“Cool, because I wasn’t gonna tell you.”

“You don’t have to. One of your “boy toy’s” fans will.” Grace laughed and then threw her head onto her mom’s shoulder. The woman gasped at first, taken aback by the show of affection, but then placed her hand on Grace’s. “You’re a very good mother to both of them. You’ll be a good one to that one too.” she pointed her free hand at Grace’s belly.

“Did you just…?”

“Come on, you’ve been raising yourself a man since you met him and I’ll stand by that forever. Might get it engraved on my headstone.”

Grace cackled, “I absolutely AM NOT raising him!”

“He is literally a life sized puppy that went through a rebellious phase where he kept biting you!”

“Well, I finally realized that I have the power to curve that behavior… and trust me, Mom… It’s not something you’d do with somebody you’re raising.” Grace stuck her tongue out.

“Get off of me you scoundrel!” Her mother joked. Grace just laughed and held on tighter. The woman put her arm around her. “Are you okay, Darling?”

“Whenever I was hurt or scared as a little girl, I was more afraid of admitting it to you and Daddy. I would be more hurt by the thoughts of how little you would think of me if I openly showed imperfection. Not feeling that way took a long time and a lot of work. So, now, if I have a hard day, I’m not too proud to lay on my mommy and say so.” She looked to gauge her mother’s reaction. She was always speechless whenever Grace got emotional. 

She’d never learn past those suppressing ways and it amazed Grace that her mother didn’t realize how much her and Simon were alike in that way. Simon had to work really hard at it and her mother was too proud and pampered to put in such effort. But, whenever Grace booped her nose, the woman’s eyes flickered amusement, ever so slightly. Now, she pushed Grace off of herself and opened her arms to receive Montanus. “Take a photograph of me with my children,” She told the nanny. “One with the two human ones, then we’ll add the new fur baby…”

.

She still hadn’t made any announcements about her status with Simon, nor had she spoken about her pregnancy outside of the maternity blog by the time Valentines’ Day rolled around. But, one thing that she did was allow for Simon to share maternity photos. That was her “gift” to him. 

There. Were. Tons. 

Simon took photos of everything. He had a copy of every ultrasound. He had an electronic journal of every detail that came up. So, whenever he posted the album “Countdown to Ivory’s Arrival,” he had more photos than most of the fans were probably going to look through. Therefore, he left many of them private, with only close friends able to view, and the ones that were public were his favorites of the candids of Grace being pregnant and gorgeous, some of the ones from photoshoots that she would post, and the professional maternity photos that they had taken so far. They took some each trimester, as a family. 

The ones at her three month mark were taken in New York, early November (around their anniversary, whenever he was in town. They had fall colors and all three of them were absolutely stunning. Hazel was impressed with how well that Simon cleaned up, so much that whenever he showed her older photos of himself, she thought he was a different person. She had no idea how right about that she was. Simon being both subservient and also a mega diva himself was absolutely salivating every time Grace did something, but also, it was him who insisted, "We have to have a photoshoot each trimester, each with a different theme.” She agreed on the trimesters, but wasn’t feeling the theme part so much. She told him that they could simply have the season be the theme.

They had three changes of outfits for each set. Grace had a gown made much like the one that she had worn to the fall festival in 9th grade (the one that the Idol Princess’ gown was very heavily based on, the one that Simon had taken photos of her in, getting her first beauty deal underway), one that Simon saw her in and immediately began crying. “You’re… gonna ruin the photos,” Hazel told him. 

There were candid ones of him crying. Her favorite was one where he was crying, Grace was trying to comfort him and Hazel dropped in front of them, bombing it with a prison pose and her tongue out. She had on a yellow pantsuit with fall leaves in her hair, her signature look being wearing leaves in her hair. Simon’s yellow suit was similar to hers, but way more expensive and the red accents, instead of the orange ones that Hazel elected. 

The orange outfits were Hazel in orange overalls, Grace in a romper and Simon in a jumpsuit that Hazel insisted was “the most expensive prison wear in the world.” The red ones were regal matching dress attire, Grace in a two piece dress to show off her belly, Hazel in the same floor length evening gown, but one piece, and Simon in a red suit, made of the same material. Hazel’s hair was down and flowing. Grace’s was gathered up, with most of her afro pulled forward, cascading out of the jeweled red head dress she wore, and Simon’s usually (these days) flowing hair was pulled into a ponytail, with the undercut showing. He was generally self conscious about it, but Hazel put little red jewels over his scar, so even though he was still anxious about his hair, he was proud of her accessorizing enough that he wanted to confidently show it off.

The six month ones were taken in January, and done in all white, which Hazel said, “Looks fabulous on mom and me, but you look like the abominable snowman,” to Simon, on the day of. They were in California by that time, but took a little trip to the mountains because the Monroes had property there that Simon remembered had beautiful scenery that he wanted to have family photos at. 

They did all white shots and winter blues. 

Whenever Simon posted them on Valentines’ Day, Hazel joked in the comments, “I still say that we need to crop your face out.” 

People loved the maternity photos, noticed that Grace did NOT have any on her page and she didn’t comment or react to any on Simon’s page. (Yes, these people pay entirely too much attention to the lives of celebrities that they didn’t even KNOW), but someone did some investigating and found Grace’s pregnancy blog. So… even though that was mostly a completely different following, others stormed into the space, thinking that FINALLY, some place where Grace has actually been interacting and will interact with us. She literally ignored anybody that wasn’t asking about helpful tips for their own pregnancy or giving her helpful tips and the title changed from, “Grace in Maternity” to “Y’all Can See This is a Mommy Blog, Right?”

A few people were seething, but funny enough, Grace’s faithful mommy following were more along the lines of, “Wait… You’re FAMOUS, Monroe Mommy???” After that, she had a hoard of moms check out her other life. She enjoyed having more of them in her fan base, though she also had a lot of ones who had always known being like, “Y’all seriously didn’t know Grace Monroe?” and her favorite quote ever on that blog, “Hell, her album is the reason I AM pregnant!!!”

Meanwhile, Simon had been less likely to play around with any of the fans ever since the video thing. He’d made that very clear, and then sort of stopped interacting with them. He didn’t even go through to like people’s comments anymore. Some of them would say things like, “Whoever resurfaced that video, if we find you, it's on sight for making Simon hate speaking with us!”

Sometimes a person would “Lol” and contend, “He’s too busy working on the Esmoroth movie. He’s not here because of the movie not some fuzzy sex tape from years ago.” 

Those were the only ones that he’d respond to just to say, “No, they’re right,” and nothing else. 

He wasn’t as busy on the Esmoroth movie as he intended to be. He was working on more tech and models for the movie than any other movie things. For one thing, the script was being adapted, and casting was hard. The casting director wanted to get a different type for the Idol Princess, but Simon was extremely firm and clear that the Idol Princess HAD to look exactly as described in the book. “There are parts of the story that are directly related to her looking the way that she does.”

“We can adjust those parts,” the director had said, hoping to appease him. 

“The Idol Princess looks like my childhood best friend. Her look is non negotiable,” he had told them. They didn’t believe in non negotiable, apparently, because the girls that were being considered were all much too light. Whenever Simon had rejected them all, they informed him of those girls’ filmographies and their agents and other people said agents represented.. “Maybe they have that type of record because people are hiring them for roles that were meant to be for someone else. Just… give me all of the call sheets for girl characters who auditioned.” 

He went through and disqualified half on looks alone (not to say that they weren’t pretty children or whatever, but they didn’t look like the Idol Princess). Whenever he had the stack of dark skin girls, he went through, checking their filmographies and auditions.

He asked Hazel for her opinion and she suggested a name that he recognized from his rejected stack. He pulled it back up and looked at the light skinned girl in the photo, "Do you mean this girl, Hazel?" He wondered.

"Yes! She's a really good actress!"

He furrowed his eyebrows and pointed out, "But she doesn't look like the Idol Princess. The Idol Princess has dark brown skin, tightly coiled hair, full nose and lips, and dark brown eyes. This girl has none of those things."

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, "She's really good though."

"Well… maybe some of these other girls are really good and people just don't want to see them in stuff like this." 

Hazel frowned and she asked, "Are you accusing me of favoring her because she's got features like mine?"

"No. I'm just saying that she doesn't look the part. You're usually really good about that kind of thing, Haze."

"Well… I don't know anybody in the age range that looks like the description of the Idol Princess." She folded her arms, "But like you said, maybe that's because people take the easy way out and just get the pretty Black girl that they know of to play a part instead of being true to characters. I've definitely read more books with dark skinned girls than I've seen in movies…"

"Here are some of my choices," he said and spread the sheets out before her. "I think this one has the look, but I think this one had a better audition. BUT, she was auditioning for a background character and this one was auditioning for the Wicked Heiress. Maybe she just didn't have that role in her and should audition for the Idol Princess, so we can know for sure.."

"I think that maybe they should all audition for the Idol Princess again. What if they just didn't believe it would be realistic that they'd get offered a job like this, especially if bigger stars are being considered? Sometimes, I have to talk kids into auditioning for our productions because they're worried that the same actors will win out anyway."

He gave her a side smile, "I think you're onto something, Haze."

.

Hazel sent out the invites for Grace’s baby shower. Unfortunately, all of Grace’s friends lived elsewhere, so it would be an expensive trip. Fortunately, they had money, so the Monroes could foot the bill for everyone who didn’t just have the means to travel across country for an event. 

Meta flew in with Damita from New York the previous week, but he made some business plans to collab with a Cali artist that week, so he was working, as well. Meanwhile, Damita and Grace were spending the week reconnecting and chilling. Shana and Iza came in from Atlanta the night before. Gharrisahn was already in LA for work, so she would swing by the day of. Grace’s parents arranged for Mikayla and Tulip to come down. They were in coach on the same flight that Lucy’s and Lindsay’s moms and they were in first class, so they’d all meet the driver upon landing.

Hazel had on a headset, along with Simon’s assistant and Grace’s assistant, because Hazel had arranged the shower and she wanted to make sure that things went how she meant for them to. 

Grace was in a custom made gown that was inspired by Book 3 of Esmoroth and Simon had been at her side simply staring at her for the entire time she had it on. It had been a surprise. A very nice one that he apparently loved. She hired the costume designer for the movie to make her several pieces, but this one was like the one that the Idol Princess resurrects in. Grace was now hip to the lore enough, mainly from paying attention to Hazel’s ravings, and her and Simon’s movie chat. 

For the most part, Grace didn’t want to have a shower. All of her friends lived elsewhere, the baby was due sort of close to Hazel’s birthday and she still wanted Hazel to be able to have a party - which she doubted would be able to happen if she waited until after they were born, so she wanted to have Hazel’s birthday party, INSTEAD of a shower and Hazel said, “How about you just worry about slaying everybody in your peak perfection pregnancy, and I’ll take care of the shower?” 

With the financial backing of GlamMother, her dad’s big brain, and her own penchant for moments and aesthetics, Hazel tended to be very good at making things come together. She even produced some choreography (Doereography, as she called her pieces), for her and her mother to perform, because, yes, Grace was good and swollen by May, but she also could still do mostly everything that she was doing before with that additional bundle. It did throw her balance off a little and she couldn’t lift Hazel at the moment, but she kept up with every step of the Irish step dancing that Hazel put into the choreo, and she absolutely could still nail every Haitian movement. Hazel wanted to make a birthday choreo with ties to her heritage, and Grace was always very supportive of her doing anything that made her feel connected to her identity. 

For good measure, Hazel looked up cultures from Grace and Simon’s heritages too. She was most accustomed to American jazz/hip hop and ballet. She started at 6, with Grace and when they were apart, Grace used to make instructional videos and post them just for Hazel. Whenever she was 10, she started to tap, and all of the other things in between, she and Grace perfected, and whenever she really wanted to nail something, they’d call in a world class trainer. 

Hazel felt that a world class trainer was needed for the baby shower. Grace very much so disagreed. So, Hazel got her grandmother to get them. “Next time, simply come to me first,” the woman had said. 

Hazel opened up with one of her raps. Her mom’s friends (as always) got their entire lives whenever she would flow - which was possibly the reason that she honed her talent, if she thought about it - and even Simon would be into the groove with things. He didn’t have the best rhythm, but he certainly always looked way taken up with her talent. Grace bouncing around with a round belly was everything in the world to Hazel, and when she was done, she waddled over to hug her. 

They played games, did some traditional shower things and some new things too, that Hazel consulted with celebrity event planners for. When it was time for gifts, Grace froze, looking at the way that everything flowed. It was like her 16th birthday again and she felt like she might have a panic attack. “Grace… It’s okay,” Simon said. She looked at him on the other side of the tete a tete and he smiled, “I learned my lesson. This is straight up simply tribute.” He kissed her on the forehead and she calmed down to receive gifts and cry about everything, but manage to not look ugly doing so, because no matter how comfortable she had gotten over the years, that was still engrained in her as a huge no-no.

Winding down from the party, she found Hazel and her friends at the photo booth, having switched out their baby shower outfits for their birthday party outfits. “Where’s Simon?”

“Bullying people about their gifts,” Hazel said nonchalantly. 

“Oh God…” Grace raced over and smiled, “Hey… what’s uh… what’s going on?”

Mrs. Monroe stood behind Simon with her arms folded and Mr. Laurent was in front of them. Simon answered, “Well, I’m giving people things back that went against the specifications for the list.”

“I don’t remember making specifications for the list.”

“You wouldn’t, because you didn’t, I did. You aren’t particularly great at meticulous things and you don’t pay attention whenever I’m telling you plans like these,” Simon said.

“We’re not gonna send a gift back with the person who gave it to us.”

“What are we gonna do, donate it to charity? Because I am not putting this together for our baby. This company uses…”

“Thank you, Mr. Laurent. Thank you for coming and thank you for this gift.” She gave the man a pat on the hand and smiled at Simon. He was still frowning, along with her mother. “You’re backing him up, now?” She got flashbacks of whenever they used to gang up on her and she was very salty that she had to defend MR. LAURENT of all people against the devastating team and Simon and her mother could be.

“He specifically said nothing from that company ON THE LIST,” her mom said, beginning a tirade against this man, with her and Simon taking turns on letting him know exactly how he’d fucked up.

“Their product is cheap and substandard.”

“They’ve decimated the supply of the people in the area they harness things from TO make cheap product.”

“And they use slave labor!”

“Child slaves.”

“OKAY! Okay… That’s a good company to boycott. But hear me out… Mr. Laurent is a simple man who shops at like three places and definitely doesn’t look up things like that,” Grace said.

To which Simon and Mrs. Monroe both reminded her, (loudly) “It was on the list!”

“I made it clear which companies we weren’t accepting gifts from!”

“It’s already bought.” Simon was going to continue complaining, but Grace took his hands and placed them on her belly and he immediately softened up and stared at it. “This is the most important thing, right?”

He looked up at her and cupped her face, shifting himself to touch foreheads with her. Hazel appeared out of nowhere to bomb the photo that they weren’t even expecting Lucy to take. 

.

“Wait, that was it?” Grace wondered. Let’s be clear… she did go through a lot of pain and it was a tough time in the birthing house, even with Simon right beside her and Hazel, her mother and her best friend nearby. But… it felt like there should be something else happening or that something was missing, that she had neglected something, or like something didn’t happen that was supposed to. 

She supposed that she had simply set her expectations so deeply into the thought of pain, struggle, blood, sweat and tears, that when it came… her imagination had actually run wild. Simon had kept telling her she was doing well and how he was proud of her and other affirmations. He was holding the baby now while she was being cleaned up. 

“Did everything happen?” Grace asked. 

Hazel went over the checklist with her. Yes. Everything happened. “Did I pass out?” No. She was awake. She was there for every grueling minute. It just was a different experience for her than what her mother described, than what she read and interpreted. 

The professionals explained to her how her birthing went relatively well, what to do next, etc. Charlotte, from the center, even talked to her about how it’s not only different for everyone, but how all four of her own pregnancies and births were different from the last. Grace was expecting something terrible to happen within the first few days, just because it didn’t seem like everything had happened! The paranoia died down on day 3 and she simply was back to cuddling with her new baby.

They looked like her, so far. Hazel made them a stuffie of a potato in a diaper… the baby just looked like a potato. She didn’t know how else to express that. Simon worshipped them. He was constantly holding them whenever Grace wasn’t. He was close by whenever she fed them. He took so many photos on his phone that within days, he surpassed all of the ones he had of Monty from the past several months.

NONE of those were going online any time soon. Grace had only posted a few days after giving birth her experience with having done so. She bounced back so quickly and looked so effortlessly beautiful that some people were claiming that she had been trolling and was never actually pregnant. She found that funny, but it also was her cue to duck away from the Internet for a while again. 

The first month of Ivory’s life, they were for the most part a quiet baby. Simon frequently worried that something was wrong, checking, rechecking, then coming back and checking again that they were breathing, awake, happy, etc. Grace was more like, “You’re so gross. Look at you! Drooling all over everything. Little slobbery monster!” She spoke in a high pitched voice that made Ivory smile and kick their little legs around.

“GRACE! Don’t say that!” Simon insisted. “You’re gonna make them feel bad.”

“No way! Ivory’s a tough little cookie, like their Mama. I gonna bite you, Cookie! Mama gonna bite you!” Then she playfully nibbled at their feet and hands. 

Simon studied the baby for a while and determined, “They seem to be enjoying it.” He would then relax a little. 

Hazel was the only person allowed to post photos of Ivory, and comments were always closed. The first one was on Hazel’s birthday. She was in a sundress, tanned a little more than usual and Ivory and she had on matching rompers and sunhats. “Ivory came 13 days before my 13th year. They really said, “I’ma be 13 too, Sis.” Look at them. Tiny. Tiny Potato. Sis has your back for life. #taurustribe #jk #idcboutthat #MonroeSibs #Doetography #HouseLaurent 

And there it was. All that anyone needed to see. You honestly couldn’t tell what the baby looked like, but how could anybody doubt Hazel’s hashtag “House Laurent?”

Simon sort of liked having a private family. He wasn’t sure why he had been so eager to have people acknowledge things before. Even one year ago, he needed for somebody, anybody to know that he slept in the same bed with Grace Monroe. He needed for her to say “I love you.” He needed to hear Hazel call him “dad.” He still loved those things, but he had everything he could have ever wanted… it just looked different than he thought it would. 

Why did he want to “take care of” Grace for so long? She was caoable of taking care of herself, probably better than he was of himself. She had talents (was ALREADY back to working on new dances with Hazel and new music), qualities… God… that smile made him weak… She had several other things too, but if he sat there making a list, he’d be there for a while, and he COULDN’T be there for a while, because Ivory was six weeks old and Grace told him that he could take them with him to work. 

He began strapping the baby into the stroller… “Are you… where are you trying to take my baby?” Grace asked.

“My calendar says that they’re six weeks old. I can take them to work with me.”

 Grace put her hands on her hips and Simon frowned. “You said it. I have a recording of you saying it.”

“Well, I said that we shouldn’t take them anywhere before six weeks…”

“And I set my calendar,” Simon completed the thought and pulled the diaper bag onto his shoulder. “Abigail is bringing Monty, so they’ll have a play date.”

“Oh, she is?” Grace asked, toweling herself down. “Hold on. I’m coming.”

“Grace, I’m gonna be late!”

“I’m not letting you go be a Daddy sized snack with TWO cute babies on you with a cute, perfect bodied nanny with no friends!”

“I don’t think she’s all that cute and I have no idea what her body looks like!”

“It doesn’t look like she pushed a baby out of it six weeks ago!”

“NEITHER DOES YOURS!” 

She came into the room, changed up and smiling, “Awww. That’s so sweet.”

“How did you?” She looked perfect. She looked perfect and she couldn’t have taken any longer than five minutes. And she thought she had anything to worry about? But, he wasn’t complaining. If he had Grace and the baby around, that was just better, all around. 

“I’m staying here,” Hazel told them and continued dancing in the mirror.

Grace was standing on the scooter, with Simon behind her, sporadically kissing her on the neck every now and then, making her smile and gush. Whenever they pulled into the studio Simon took the baby out, which Grace noticed was wearing an oversized heather gray, “Proof he got lucky with Grace Monroe” onesie. “Simon! What did you…?” She gasped and saw that he had a shirt, the same color that read, “I got lucky with Grace Monroe.”

“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to be here today!” Simon told her. 

“How many shirts and onesie sets did you buy?”

“Not a lot. I bought WAY MORE t-shirts than I did onesies.” She fell behind a little and the back of that man’s shirt said “Grace’s Babydaddy.”

“Simon…”

“In my defense… You were right there whenever I walked out of the house wearing it.” She laughed. “It’s just in the studio. I’m working on some mechanics. There’s not gonna be cameras on me or anything.” She was still pouting. “I know that you’re super secretive, but I’m sure that most of the people who give a damn about what we do already know that this is indeed my baby…”

“It’s not that.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Ugh. I wanted to do this whole reveal thing for you on Sunday! I was gonna make this long, sweet post and open my comments and EVERYTHING. Now, I feel like it won’t have the same effect…” His eyes were already all watery, just from her THINKING about doing so.

“Sunday is Father’s Day…”

“Yeah. I can keep my own secrets. Not tell people about my pregnancy or who I bone or how I share time with my daughter or whatever, but I didn’t plan on making you stay in the shadows of my spotlight for the rest of our lives, especially when it comes to this. You’ve been an immense pain in the ass, but you’re a wonderful father and I figured it’d be a good… coming out of sorts for me to acknowledge that on that day.”

He cradled Ivory closely, “You can still do that.”

“Well, you’ve announced it all over your clothes and also… I just told you the entire plan!”

“I love knowing plans!” Simon said. “Here.” He took off the shirt and threw on his hoodie, which it was too hot for and then they changed the baby’s onesie too. “I sort of want to eat it up whenever people actually find out from you that I am indeed, who you bone.” She laughed. “This is the best spoiled surprise that I’ve ever had!”

“Well… I didn’t tell you ALL my plans, so there’s still stuff to look forward to.”

“Yeah?” He asked, casually as they walked inside.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Can I have a hint?”

“Something that starts with the letter P.” Simon turned red and she smiled brightly.

“Uh. Didn’t put THAT on your calendar, did you?” 

His lip dropped, “I DIDN'T!” He frowned, “In my defense… we don’t really do that enough for it to have been something I was counting down to.” He smirked, “But every time we do…” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at her. She bit her lip and shook her head, “Nope. Sunday. You aren’t gonna beard break me, Mr. Laurent.”

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