#this is the best thing I've ever drawn period

[rius-cave]

Important announcement

Check out the prompt list if you missed it!

[avian-hearts]

i can't stop looking at my recent selfship ship drawing with dark cacao IT'S JUST SO CUTE!!!!!!!!! AND THE WAY I DREW BOTH OF US IS CUTE

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured IX

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: Things get worse before they can get better

Two days after you and Jaume are admitted into hospital, several different things happen.

One: Jenni's manager calls and tells her that she can only take a maximum of two more weeks leave and that she needs to return to Mexico within the month.

Two: Jaume gets much better, very quickly. He's practically good as new and he's allowed out of his room for short periods of time.

Three: The pottery place lets Alexia know that her mug and your train are ready so she goes to pick them up.

Four: She comes back with your ceramic train and drops it on the floor in horror when she sees you being intubated.

'She took a turn for the worse' they tell her. 'We've upped her medication and she should be fine in a few days', they say but all Alexia can think about is the shattered train on the floor and how tiny you look in your bed.

You're moved to the ICU and remain motionless and asleep for days on end. Therein lies the second problem.

The ICU nurses are stricter than the nurses in the peds wing. They say only the legal guardians can go into your room.

You have no father. You had no other mother either, not legally anyway.

You have just Alexia. Just Alexia who can sign off on treatment plans. Just Alexia who can sign you out and be given updates about your condition.

Just Alexia who can go and sit by your bedside and sob.

It was supposed to be a good day. Jaume was better. You were going to get your train.

It's all ruined now and all Alexia can do is sob.

Jenni sobs too.

She can't see you. She can't even enter the ICU. She can do nothing but loiter in the waiting room.

She had nowhere else to go.

Eli and Alba can go and see Jaume but Jenni has nothing to do with Jaume. She just has you.

You who is intubated and asleep in the ICU. You who she had pinned down and so cruelly not explained anything to. You who was still so small and scared and stuck in hospital while Jenni would have to return to Mexico very, very soon.

"How is she?"

Jenni's ex looks away. Alexia looks exhausted, worse than Jenni's ever seen her before. There are bags under her eyes. Her hair looks unbrushed. Her clothes are crumpled.

"The doctors are optimistic," Is Alexia's answer," They think she's fighting really well. They..." Alexia's throat bobs. "They think she'll be strong enough to come off it in a day or two."

"And she can have visitors again?"

"Maybe not as quickly," Alexia explains," I think we should be conservative. Maybe not even until she's fully healthy again. I think-"

"Alexia, I have to leave soon."

Alexia breaks off. "What?"

"Back to Mexico. I've delayed it as long as I can. By the end of the month, I need to be gone again."

"What are you talking about?" Alexia still can't wrap her mind around it. "Back to Mexico? Bambi's still sick."

"I know!" Jenni snaps. "I know, Alexia. And you need to make a decision."

"A decision? Jenni, what are you talking about?"

"You need to put someone else on her papers. You've seen those doctors. We don't get told anything. It's dangerous."

"Jenni-"

"What if Bambi breaks her arm? Me or Olga bring her to hospital and they can't do anything because we're not legal guardians. What would have happened if they couldn't get a hold of you after they intubated her? They can't change treatment plans without parental consent."

"I-"

Jenni sighs, long and drawn out. "I know you have a lot on your plate, Alexia. I know, I do but this is about Bambi and what she deserves and she deserves two people on that birth certificate."

Jenni doesn't say what she wants to say. She doesn't say that she desperately wants you as her own. She doesn't say that she thinks in the deepest, most malicious part of her brain that Alexia has already ruined whatever relationship you had beyond repair. She doesn't say that she thinks a new start in Mexico would be best for you.

She doesn't say that she's already looked at a ballet academy near her apartment and that her club has some of the best childcare options she's seen in a long time.

Jenni doesn't say anything more.

She just turns on her heel and walks out.

Out of Alexia's company, out of the waiting room, out of the hospital.

She doesn't say anything until she's in her car and sobbing into her steering wheel.

Her words float through Alexia's brain even as she sits in Jaume's room with him.

He looks much better than before. The rash is gone. He's moving around again.

The only evidence that he was ever sick at all is the IV still attached to his hand, feeding antibiotics into his body to make sure it's fully gone.

"Something funny, little man?" Alexia coos as he giggles uncontrollably," What so funny, huh? What so funny?" She bounces him gently at each word and Jaume giggles even more.

"The little man's happy he's getting out of here in a few days," Olga says, hooking her chin over Alexia's shoulder," Isn't that right, Jaume? Is that why you're so giggly today?"

Jaume giggle in answer, kicking his feet out.

"Look at these kicks," Alexia coos," My little footballer, huh? Are you going to captain Spain? I think you are!"

"Your Mama and sister went home," Olga says," They'll be here early tomorrow, like always."

"Jenni went as well."

Olga goes to sit in the chair next to Alexia's, frowning. "That's unlike her. I swear, I thought she was going to sneak into the ICU yesterday."

"She told me that she needs to go back to Mexico soon," Alexia says," She's delaying it for as long as possible."

"All for our Bambi?" Olga hums," She really loves her."

"Yeah," Alexia says," She does."

Alexia is in awe of Jenni sometimes. Jenni has always loved you, Alexia thinks. Jenni's always been a part of your life even when Alexia didn't have the energy to care for herself. Jenni had always been there.

Alexia doesn't think she'll ever understand just how much Jenni adores you. You make the planets spin for Jenni. You hang the stars and the moon and sometimes, like now, Alexia wonders if she'll ever be able to live up to that.

If she'll ever be able to give you the life you deserve.

She doesn't want to give you up. Selfishly, she wants a life where she can hold both you and Jaume in bed with her. She wants a life where she can go to Jaume's football matches and your ballet recitals. She wants a life where she can win a Champion's League and see you running onto the pitch to celebrate with her.

But she doesn't know if that's the life you want.

She doesn't know if that's the life you deserve, constantly being shepherded from one thing to another, constantly living in fear that you'll be left behind again.

Alexia knows a life with Jenni, where you're the centre of her world, would be good for you too. But, still, Alexia can't help but let her heart flutter at hearing Olga call you 'our Bambi'.

'Our Bambi'.

Hers and Alexia's.

If you went with Jenni then you would be just Jenni's, no matter if Alexia kept her name on your birth certificate. You would be half a world away. She would see you when Jenni returned for international duty. She would see you a few weeks every year and Alexia doesn't know how she could cope with that.

Alexia doesn't know how she would explain to Jaume about the sister he never sees.

Alexia is your mother and she needs to do what is best for you, despite how selfish she wants to be.

She needs to decide if she can still give you the best life possible or if letting Jenni raise you is truly what will give you the best chance possible.

"Ale?" Olga asks softly, shaking her," You're crying."

Alexia swipes the tears away. "I was just thinking about Bambi. I should probably get back to her. The doctors keep saying that she won't even notice but-"

"But you should still sit with her," Olga says," She deserves to have some company. Here." Olga reaches into her bag.

She pulls out your ceramic train, the one Alexia shattered on the floor after seeing you with a tube down your throat.

"It's still missing a few pieces," Olga explains," But I tried my best. I thought you could put it at her bedside."

Alexia takes it gently, cradling it in her hands. Olga's right. There's still little chips and Alexia can very clearly see where Olga has glued the broken pieces together.

It's still fractured and broken but it's perfect.

"I love you," Alexia chokes out," I love you."

"I love you too," Olga says," Just as I love our kids. Go, Ale. Sit with her. Me and the little man will be right here."

The sun glints on your ceramic train for nearly a week until you wake up.

The doctors keep you asleep until they're certain that the meningitis is gone.

Jaume gets to go home with Olga the day before you get woken up.

There's a crowd outside your room early the next day and Alexia is the only one allowed in.

"We've taken the tube out," The doctors explain," And she'll be coming out of the anaesthesia soon. She'll be a little disorientated and emotional but once she's up, give it an hour or two, we'll check her hearing and her strength and if it all goes well then she should be out of here by late afternoon."

"How likely is it that her hearing's being affected?"

"Meningitis is known to cause hearing loss but I'm optimistic. Despite what's happened, she's fought it every step of the way. There's a good chance she comes out of this without any lasting effects."

"And once she's up? I can let people in?"

The doctor glances over at the assembled crowd. "Only one or two in the room at a time. We don't want to overwhelm her."

"Thank you."

"I'll be back soon."

Alexia retakes her seat at your side, holding your hand gently in her own. Your little hands are perfect to hold in her own. You could probably hold just a finger and it would still be bigger than your whole hand.

"I love you," Alexia whispers as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead," I love you so, so much, Bambi. You're all better now. You just need to wake up."

You don't come to for another thirty minutes or so and, when you finally do, it's slowly.

"Mami," You say," My throat hurts."

Alexia can't help the worried laughter that bubbles out of her throat. It's half in relief and half in how disgruntled you look.

"Mami?"

"Here, Bambi," She says," Sit up. Let's have a little drink."

She holds the glass as you sip the water. You lean easily into the comfort Alexia's offering, your head resting on her shoulder

"Wha's goin' on, Mami?"

"You were sick," Alexia says," But you're better now and you get to leave if everything's okay."

Your brow wrinkles. "I..." Your eyes dart around and Alexia suddenly realises what the doctor meant by you being emotional. "I want Mama! Mama! Want-Want Mama!"

Tears spill down your cheeks and Alexia knows exactly who you want.

She shouldn't take it personally. She knows you're sad and overwhelmed and you're reaching out for comfort for the person that you can't see.

Alexia knows this is normal. She's been told this is normal and yet-

Alexia pushes away her feelings, tucking you into the blankets and pressing a kiss to your cheek that you clearly welcome. "I'll get you Jenni," She promises," Just give me a second."

She pokes her head out of the door.

"Jenni," Alexia says, voice emotionless," She needs you."

Jenni's looking more relieved than Alexia's ever seen her before as she rushes into the room.

"Mama," You say, brow wrinkled and looking up at her with wet, puppy dog eyes," You hurt me."

"I hurt you?" Jenni echoes as she takes Alexia's seat," When did I hurt you, Bambi?"

"When the bad man touched my back and you held my legs."

"I'm sorry, Bambi," Jenni says gently," That was wrong of me. I'm very, very sorry."

You're still confused. Your brain feels like it's full of cotton, all fuzzy and weird like that time the tv made that weird noise and went all staticky.

You lay back down. Your head bounces a little from the force you've thrown it back into your pillow with.

Everything's all jumbled and confused and you gently take Ma-Jenni's hand in your own. She's got big hands with fingers you can wrap your whole hand around and still have your hand be too small.

You know someone else like that, you think and your brain strains to think of who it is.

You get glimpses.

Big hands. A Barcelona kit. Gentle strokes down your back and kisses on your forehead when you're sad.

"Mami," You croak out even as Ma-Jenni climbs into bed with you and cradles you against her body.

Mami was with you earlier. You can remember that. You lift your head to see where she's gone but you can't see her anywhere.

"Mama," You say, tugging on Ma-Jenni's shirt as tears still drip down your cheeks," Mami's gone! Mami's gone again!"

You don't know that Alexia's crying too.

In the bathroom down the hall, staring at herself in the mirror and only seeing your own tearful face reflected back at her.

[dearest-nell]

homebrew.

j. potter x reader, 3.6k

summary: james wants to do something nice for the reader. best friends to lovers, mentions of reader menstruating, james being a big softie

a/n: this is the first time i've written in a long while, so hi there! nice to be back

It was safe to say that today was somewhat of a write off, at least in your own humble opinion. The familiar blunt pains of your period shook you from an already groggy, restless slumber, cyclically pressing somewhere deep inside you until you were drawn into a terrible state of nausea. You could feel the deep bruised marks hanging low beneath your eyes, hard earned and unwelcome, marring your already paler than usual complexion. You had avoided the mirror entirely, knowing something sallow would be the only reflection waiting. 

It was battle enough to make your way down the stairs from your dorm, your head hanging low as you ghosted your way towards an already raucous common room. Heavy eyes landed on the two familiar figures seated in the corner, and even in your dreary state, you couldn’t keep the small smile that tugged on the corners of your lips. James sat comfortably, splayed across the couch in his usual unapologetic stature, arm hanging heavy across the back, legs parted wide, head tipped back in laughter at something Sirius had surely uttered before your arrival. Sirius seemed much the same in his own right, though you took less pains to notice. James always seemed to snatch your attention, after all. It was his effect. 

You felt no need to greet the boys as you settled slowly beside James, slouching into the crook of his arm with entirely too little consideration, dropping your head to his shoulder with a distracted sigh. It was normal, after all, this kind of thing. James had always been affectionate by nature, and you craved the intimacy he had to offer more than you would ever admit. 

James moved in an automatic response, his arm swiping to encase you in his hold as if that was how it was always meant to be. He couldn’t see the little furrow on your brow, not properly, but he could feel the tension that held each and every muscle in you tighter than a bowstring. 

“Mornin’ there, sweetheart.” He chuckled, squeezing at your side affectionately only to receive a mumbled reply in turn. His brow rose towards Sirius, a silent conversation passing between them over your head. 

Sirius cocked his head. “Didn’t sleep well then, I take it.” 

You shook your head, closing your eyes to block out the light. Migraines were easily built when you were already in such a delicate state, and the widely opened windows of the tower had played the villain on you this morning. Ordinarily, the sunlight would have been worth a warm welcome, but this morning you had only wished for rain. 

James tutted beside you, his free hand inching to brush back the hair that had crowded your face, the back of it pressing gently against your forehead. James didn’t need to excel in divination to know that something was off with you, you certainly weren’t trying to hide it, but it now had become his own little mystery to solve — a distraction from the rest of his day. There was no temperature, though, so he hoped he could at least rule out a trip to Pompfrey.  “You feelin’ alright there?” 

You breathed out a soft yeah, though neither of the boys were too convinced by the answer.  

“You’re really gonna make us jump through hoops for it, aren’t ya.” Sirius teased, earning a narrowed, piercing glare from your tired eyes. 

“You don’t want to know, Pads.” 

Sirius shrugged, unphased by the response, and leaned back in his arm chair with his usual sort of smugness. 

James tried again a little softer, resting his cheek on the crown of your head. “Try me, then. You wouldn’t keep a secret from me, would you, love?” 

You were sure James couldn’t have known the effect that little nickname had on you, and you felt the familiar warm tug of your affection towards him slowly water down your reluctance to share. 

“It’s not a secret, Jamie. It’s just that time, y’know? I usually make a stock of potions and I just forgot, so I’m feelin’ a bit…” you trailed off, angling your face up slightly so he could see your queasy expression. “It’s nothing to write home about.” 

“Well in that case,” Sirius emphasised, pushing broad palms into the plush  arms of his chair to hoist himself up, “I’m going to go track down our other little monthly invalid. I’d rather face Moons than this one.” 

Sirius didn’t need to look back to see the vulgar motion you tossed his way, though James couldn’t help the chuckle that rippled from him as he watched you burrow in deeper after. 

“Can I do anything, then?” James queried, rubbing circles into your side with the warmth of his palm. “You look like you really ought to go back to bed.” 

“Can’t.” You grumbled, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. “I promised Dorcus I’d help her with her essay.” 

Besides, you knew this was par for the course. How many people in the world faced the same battle as you and soldiered on — you didn’t feel like it was enough of an excuse when a third of Gryffindor tower was likely menstruating right along with you. Communal living, what a gem… 

“I’m sure she’d understand.” James offered, furrowing his own brow in thought. He didn’t  like there being a problem he couldn’t fix, and more so, he didn’t like you having a problem that he couldn’t fix. You were his little love, after all, his very best friend, it was his job to take care of you whether you wanted it or not. 

How the two of you weren’t in a relationship was anyone’s guess, and a frustration that plagued all of your friends and acquaintances to no end. You never sat like this with the others, never used such darling terms of endearment for the rest of the gang. Yours and James dynamic was something entirely of its own; too sweet and tender to be just friends, and yet never classified as anything more. You wouldn’t argue it, though, not when it allowed you this kind of closeness with him. If this was all you would ever get, then you would take it gladly. 

“She would, but I’m going anyways.” There was a decided tone to your voice that James knew would be a losing battle to argue with, so with a gentle sort of sigh, he focused his attention on a new objective. 

“So what’s the potion, then? Can I go buy you some?” 

You wrinkled your nose at the question, well aware that James was a dog with a bone at the best of times. It was sweet of him to offer, but the last thing you wanted was to feel helpless. You’d survived this long, after all, and the idea of you putting James out of his way was one you wished to avoid.  “It’s okay, Jamie. I’ll make up a batch tonight or tomorrow, or somethin’. You don’t need to do anything.” 

James would’ve knocked your martyr complex right out of you if he could, but that wasn’t his way. Besides, your stubbornness made up a part of you, and he loved all of you too much to ever want to change that, even if it was a pain in the neck. 

“You know I’m useless on my own. Maybe I’m bored and want something to do, hm? You don’t know.” 

He was being cheeky, and he had the shit eating grin to match it. That sort of energy always seemed to ripple off of him, settling a warmth into your bones that eased you somewhat. 

You managed a small, amused chuckle. “Then I’m sure the boys’ll have plenty to keep you busy today. I just wanted a hug before I was on my way.” 

“Oh yeah?” James’ voice was delighted as he circled his arms tighter around you, pressing you against the heat of his body with expert hands, fingertips massaging into your back and waist with reverent touches. “James hugs makes it all better, don't it.” 

With a scoff at his ego, you allowed yourself a moment to soak it all in – this closeness and intimacy that you wished you could bottle. James was the perfect boyfriend, after all, even if he didn’t belong to anyone. There was never a day where his friends did not feel the weight of his love, of his affection and regard. It felt almost greedy to want more from the man who gave so freely. 

But you did. You always wanted more of him. 

“Yeah they do, you smug bastard.” The teasing lilt was not lost upon him, and it only made James squeeze you tighter. 

“Y’know, I figure maybe I just won’t let you go. Then you’d have to rest right here where I can make sure.” 

You thought about biting him – you really did – just because it was cheeky and you knew it would make him laugh. Your restraint, however, could only be considered admirable, and instead you moved to pinch at his side with a sneaky manoeuvre, one that would unfortunately cut this perfect moment short. 

He yelped in surprise, his grip loosening enough for you to begrudgingly slip out of. It ached a little to see the way he was still reaching for you, trying to pull you back down to his side. Your traitorous, bleeding heart couldn’t help but hope that maybe he craved your touch as much as you craved his. But once again, James had nothing but adoring smiles for you, feeling all too bested in his own game. 

“Careful, love – if they see you moving that quick, I might have competition on the Quidditch team.” 

You shrugged, smiling a little coyly. “It won’t be my fault if they put you out of business, James.” 

He huffed out a laugh, clutching at his chest with enough melodramatics to level the castle. “You’re breakin’ my heart.” 

You tilted your head softly. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll see you later, okay?” 

His soft okay was enough for you to be on your way, though if you had heard his little, woefully mumbled I miss you already, then maybe you’d have turned back around. 

-------✿-------

Dorcus had been supportive enough during your studies, much to no one's surprise, but even she could tell that this round of pains seemed far more severe than usual. You spent the better part of the session hunched over your library desk, legs curled up beneath you in some feeble attempt to ease the pain. The heated pillow behind you helped somewhat, but by the mid afternoon, it was starting to feel like a losing battle. 

Once the bulk of the work was over, you resigned to give in, sending yourself back to the common room with a huff, energy far too spent for you to even consider making another round of potions. Pomfrey tried her best to keep a steady stock at all times, but between unsure first years whose potion making skills were not refined enough for such delicate casting and older students who were lazy enough not to bother, her supplies had once again been depleted, much to your chagrin. 

It left you with nothing to do but burrow deep down into the warmth of your duvet, hooking the blanket over your head as you drifted into another groggy, all too short sleep. Even with noise muffling and light repellant spells, your body could not seem to comply, and within the hour you were back on your feet again, lazily pulling together something warm and cosy to wear down to the common room once more. 

It was only when you opened your door that you noticed the small package at your feet, wrapped up prettily in a crimson ribbon that felt far too festive for something so mysterious. 

There was no note attached, no sign of where the gift had come from, but with a steady hand you unravelled the packaging, opening your gift to discover twelve identical potion bottles stacked neatly in rows, a small card tucked carefully in between that read your name in a scrawled writing. By sight you could identify the contents – the familiar purple tinge was one you had learned to identify from Pomfrey herself – though you were sure she wouldn’t have had the time to brew a new batch from when you last saw her only an hour beforehand. 

Chewing your lip, you pondered the possibilities, hooking the gift under your arm as you slowly descended the stairs to find the culprit. Of course, you were certain there was only one person who might have been responsible. James had been all too eager to help, after all, and far too free on his Saturday to be left to his own devices. The handwriting was unfamiliar, sure, but it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d attempted to throw someone off his trail that way; he was a prankster at heart. 

Even now you found him perched happily by the fire, wrapped up in his favourite armchair, eyes drifting lazily across the pages of a book in hand.Coming up from behind, you leaned yourself over the back of the chair, elbows holding you up as you watched him examine the box now resting in his lap.

 “So you’ve been busy today.”

Without missing a beat, James rated his head back onto the plush back behind him, smiling up at you with an innocence that seemed all for show. “Me? Well I’ve been trying to read, yes, though I wouldn’t call that busy.” 

“Oh? So you’ve got no idea what these are, then?” Your tone was nothing if not incredulous, but what was the harm in humouring him in something like this. 

James shrugged, passing a quick glance over the box in question before turning his eyes back to you. “Potions? Are they more of the ones you need?” 

Your lips curved as he feigned his innocence, though the smugness that seemed to tug at the corner of his lips betrayed him. He’d never been a good liar, after all. James was earnest to the bone. 

“You know, it’s funny, I couldn’t really say. There’s no labels, you see, and no note, so who is to say what they are.” You paused, gasping softly for a sort of dramatic effect, cupping your cheek with one hand as your eyes widened comically. “Oh no! They could be a nasty prank, now that I think about it. Probably best not to drink them…” 

You watched it live, that flash of regret that passed before his eyes as he realised his mistake. He tried his best to cover it, clearing his throat and adjusting in his seat, eyes blinking up at you nervously. 

“Or it’s just… I mean it doesn’t look all that harmful, does it? Who’d wanna give you a rotten potion anyways.” 

You levelled your gaze at him. “Literally anyone that you share a room with, Jamie. I don’t need my hair falling out or my words coming out in Pig Latin, so I think I’ll pass.” 

James reached up for you on instinct, his fingers curling around the meat of your forearm with a tender sort of touch, his gaze somewhat imploring now. 

“Or you could just drink it, for… fun.” 

“Fun?” You quirked a brow, smile widening at this little game that you were sure to win. “Why would I do that?” 

James huffed. “Yeah, fun. I think they look fine, so maybe you should just—” 

“James.” 

He’d been backed into a corner and he knew it, though his little sigh of defeat did nothing for him to remove his touch from your arm. He spoke with a gentle whine, frustrated that the game was now at an end. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh.” 

“I don’t know why you don’t want to. It’s really sweet of you to find me some, though I don’t know how you managed twelve; the school seems tapped.” 

You shrugged your arm gently, enough to shake him from his grip so that your fingers could settle between his own, locking into place with such ease and familiarity. James’ gaze followed suit, watching the way his hand seemed to dwarf your own. 

“It is. Pomfrey’s out and the girls didn’t have any to spare, so I just made ‘em instead.” 

Your brows furrowed in surprise. “You made them? How?” 

James surely would not have had access to the recipe, and you knew that it wasn’t a quick potion to make. He must have spent hours on it, and the thought made your heart squeeze with affection inside your chest. 

Perhaps your affections were written right across your face, because you watched as his own expression softened to something equally adoring, his smile brightening at your astonishment. 

“I got Mary to show me. Or really she just talked at me for a bit, but I took heaps of notes, and she checked at the end to make sure I’d done it right. Figured killing you with the wrong mix would’ve done nothing to cheer you up.” 

You laughed at that, shaking your head in disbelief. Your breath felt caught in your throat, something large and unavoidable stuck and ready to spill out. “You didn’t have to.” 

James shrugged. “I wanted to. I just didn’t want to make a fuss is all. Didn’t want you feeling like you’d owe me anything.” 

You felt your lip catch between your teeth, already feeling that sense of obligation starting to pool in your gut. You had never been good at accepting gifts, after all, nor compliments – you always wanted to pay things back. James, however, was as stubborn as you were, and the resolve in his gaze was enough to show you that he was unflinching on this notion. 

“Well I… I want to say thanks somehow. This was really kind, Jamie. Too kind.” 

He shook his head, squeezing your hand in his. “You don’t even need to say the thanks part. Just take the potion and I’ll be happy. I hate seeing you hurt, love, I really do.” 

It was an impulse that had you moving, your body bending at the waist until you were lowered down just enough, James’ face angling to meet yours. You stayed like that for a moment, a blip in time spent with the two of you just watching one another, breaths evening out until you moved in sync, a pattern that only you two could follow. You nudged your face slightly, lips brushing tenderly against the scruff of an unshaved cheek, pressing there far longer than ordinarily you might have ever dared. 

You heard the shudder in his breath, felt the way his hand gripped yours as you pulled back, gaze meeting his own in an unavoidable stare. 

“Thank you, James. I really mean it.” 

You watched as he swallowed, that same sort of lump caught in his own throat as he tried to find the words, tried to make himself speak in a way that you would understand. How could he make you see that he would do anything for you, anything at all, whether you asked or not. 

He settled on the one thing he knew he needed, using his grip on your hand to urge you out from behind the couch – behind the wall between you two – guiding you until you settled comfortably in his lap, curled up and safe, just as you ought to be. You didn’t question the movement, just tilting your head curiously at the intense way he seemed to be watching you, tugging your entwined hands into your lap, cocooning his within your own, rubbing circles into the back of his hand. 

James reached for your face with his other hand, deft fingers hooking your loose strands of hair behind your ear, circling at the softness of your cheek and jaw with newfound tenderness. 

“If you want to thank me next time, then you can just let me look after you. It’s all I want to do.” 

His kiss was quick as he pressed his lips to your own, somehow so casual for something so foreign between you both. You’d have almost believed you’d made the whole thing up if you couldn’t feel the electricity it left behind, feel the way such a small thing had awakened so much inside of you. 

“Okay.” 

You could see it in his stare, the way he was reading you, trying to understand if you wanted this as badly as he did. Your soft sigh as you nuzzled into the warmth of his palm was all the reassurance he needed, nodding to himself as he processed the lines he had just crossed. 

“Okay.” He breathed, angling your face to kiss your brow, his touch reverent as he lingered far longer this time, unable to bring himself to pull away until the very last second, that teasing, boyish grin now spread across his features. “Take your potion, then, and sit with me a little while. I wanna make sure it works.” 

It was hard to tell what was changed between you two, but all you knew was that whatever had occurred here in this armchair would linger in the back of your mind for days to come. There was a new intimacy here, one far deeper than had ever been explored between the two of you before, and even without words, you knew James felt it too. 

Maybe it didn’t need words. Maybe it was enough for you to drink the potion and settle against him, your nose pressed against the pulse beating steadily at the crook of his neck, his hand pressing soft circles into the dip of your back. Maybe that was the only step that needed taking, for now. Something felt all too assured in that moment that this was just the beginning, and that was all the both of you needed to know.

[lee-laurent]

My Biggest Hater - Jamie Drysdale

Summary: Jamie meets his biggest hater

content: fluff, angst, disapproving parents, kissing, mentions of sex, innuendos, mentions of break ups, engagements

wc: 9.6k

notes: enjoy!! i have serious writer's block atm, so this is the best i've got

Georgina Elwood was so in love with Jamie Drysdale that it hurt. The moment she set eyes on him through the glass of a Flyers game, she was hooked. And it was clear to anyone looking at that them that he felt exactly the same way.

But that wasn't how Georgina had ever planned her life going. She wasn't supposed to fall for an athlete, a hockey player. Her parents would never approve of that. Sports were seen as entertainment in her family and a rare entertainment at that. Sports weren't a serious career, a stable career. Yet, one night at the Well Fargos Centre changed everything for her.

~~

Georgina hadn't even planned to go to the game. It had been her best friend Olivia's idea, a spontaneous decision after a long week of studying for upcoming finals at UPenn. Olivia had convinced her with a mischevious grin and two tickets at the glass (Olivia had her parents' credit card).

"Come on, Georgie. Just one night of fun. You need a break from all the pressure. No one has to know," Olivia teased, slipping her arm through Georgie's as they walked toward the arena. The lights of Philadelphia flickered above them, the cool autumn air picking up leaves and spinning them all around. Georgie rolled her eyes, but secretly agreed with her best friend. Her parents would be horrified to know she was spending the evening watching a sport instead of spending it inside studying more than necessary.

She expected nothing more than a forgettable night--maybe a few laughs, some shit food, and minor ear damage. But as soon as they took their seats, Georgie's eyes were drawn to the player sporting 'Drysdale 9' on the back of his jersey.

She didn't really care about his name, just how skilled he was when it came to skating. He held her attention in a way she hadn't expected anyone at the game to. Every time the puck came near their seats, she found herself leaning forward to follow his every move.

"He's cute, huh?" Olivia nudged her, catching onto her staring.

"What? No," Georgie blushed, pretending to focus on the game. But she wasn't really watching the game. She was watching him. It was just him, gliding along the ice like it's what he was made to do.

And then, near the end of the second period, something unexpected happened. Jamie was checking the bench when, by pure chance, his eyes swept over the crowd behind it and landed directly on Georgina. It was just a brief moment, but their eyes locked.

Her breath caught in her throat.

He smiled. Not a flashy, "I'm-a-professional-athlete" kind of smile, but something subtle, almost shy, as if he was surprised that she had been looking at him.

"Georgie, he's totally looking at you!" Olivia squealed beside her, shaking her shoulders. Georgie tried to play it off, but the blush creeping up her face gave her away.

It felt ridiculous, but locking eyes with him felt right. Like they say in every romance novel ever--sparks.

It was after the game that things really changed. She was sitting in a bar with Olivia, sipping whatever fruity cocktail her friend had ordered for the two of them. Olivia was chattering excitedly about the game, not noticing how zoned-out Georgina was. She couldn't shake the image of Jamie's face when their eyes met.

"You're still thinking about him, aren't you?" Olivia teased.

"It's not like that."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say. But I saw that look. He was totally into you. I bet you could've got his number if he wasn't like... on the ice."

"I doubt he even remembers I exist. Besides, I'm not going to throw myself at some guy just because he smiled at me during a game."

"Whatever. Let me tell you about that cute guy from calc..."

The night wore on, and Georgie found herself listening to best friend yap and yap about the frat boy in their calc course. That was until Olivia nearly spilled her drink in excitement, pointing towards the door.

"Georgie! Look! Fucking look!" she hissed, grabbing her arm.

Jamie had just walked in, still wearing his post-game jacket and laughing with a couple of his teammates. He looked even better without the glass between them--tall, with tousled hair and freckles.

"We have to talk to him. Come on!"

"Olivia, no!" The last thing she wanted was to embarass herself in front of the guy she'd been caught staring at. "I am not doing this."

"You don't have to. I'll do it. Just act cool."

Before Georgina could protest, Olivia was already standing, waving Jamie and his teammates over with confidence. Jamie's eyes found hers again, a glimmer of recognition lighting up his face. He nudged his friend and in a few large strides they were standing next to the two girls.

"Hey," Jamie greeted. "You were at the game, right?"

"Yep! My best friend couldn't stop watching you," Olivia teased, shooting a look at Georgie. "She's a huge friend now, right, Georgie?"

She cleared her throat, forcing a smile. "It was... a good game."

"Glad you enjoyed it. Do you, uh, do you come to a lot of games?" Jamie asked, leaning in.

"This was actually my first one," she admitted. "I, um, I'm not super into sports."

"Really?" Jamie seemed genuinely surprised. "And yet you somehow ended up right at the glass?"

"That's all Olivia. She dragged me here tonight."

"Well, I'm glad she did," his voice made her stomach fill with butterflies. Before she could respond, he offered to buy her a drink. She agreed and every time she looked up that night, Jamie's eyes were already on her.

~~

Georgie awoke to the feeling of Jamie pressing kisses to her collar bone and neck. She sleepily reached up, blindly running a hand through his hair.

"Mmm, good morning."

"Morning, Gee," Jamie's voice was low and gravelly with sleep as he nestled closer, his arm draping over her waist. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better now," she whispered, tilting her head to give him more space to press kisses.

Moments like that, waking up beside him, felt like they were living in their own little world. A world where her parents' opinions didn't matter, where their judgement couldn't reach her. But deep down she knew she couldn't hide Jamie forever.

"You look like you're in deep thought," his lips brushing against her ear, his hand tracing patterns on her hip. He could read her like a book.

"Just thinking."

She hestitated. She hadn't told him yet about her plan to bring him to her parents' summer house. She wasn't even sure if it was the right move. Her parents had never met anyone she'd dated, and she had no idea how they'd react to Jamie. But she hated keeping their love a secret.

"Thinking about my parents."

Jamie's hand stopped it's slow carress. He knew how complicated things were when it came to her family. She had shared bit and pieces of growing up in Greenwich--how she went to boarding school, how her brother was a glorified frat boy, how her parents had unrealistic expectations for her entire life.

"You're still worried about them?"

"It's just... they're not like you. They won't understand us, not the way we do. And I'm not sure how to explain that to them without it turning into a disaster."

Jamie's jaw ticked. He had a vague understanding of her parents judginess, hence why he had yet to meet them in the 7 months that they'd been together. But he also didn't want the love of his life ripped from his arms because he wasn't what her father had pictured for his little princess.

"I love you Georgie," he leaned in to capture her lips in a loving kiss.

"I love you too, Jimmy," she mumbled against his mouth.

"Now, we've still got an hour until Cam comes home. So... are we taking advantage of this empty apartment or what?"

~~

Georgie sat on the couch, nervously twirling a loose thread on the Flyers shirt she'd stolen from Jamie. Jamie was in the kitchen making her her daily coffee, his back to her, completely unaware of the conversation she was about to start.

She'd been thinking about it for weeks--how to bring it up, how to convince him it was the right time. But every scenario that played out in her head made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Hey, Jamie?"

"Yeah?" He turned, two mugs in his hands, walking over to sit with her.

"I was thinking... maybe it's time for you to meet my parents."

The words hung in the air between them. Jamie placed the two mugs down on the coffee table, his eyes darkening with uncertainty.

"Georgie, we've talked about this," he said slowly, sitting back against the couch. "You know how your parents feel about... athletes. Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"I know it's complicated, Jamie, but I don't want to keep hiding you from them. It's been seven months. They're going to find out eventually and it'll probably be worse if we wait too long."

"But why now? What's the rush? It's not like they're begging to meet me. Hell, they don't even know I exist."

"That's the point, Jamie! I don't want to keep you a secret! I love you, and I want them to see what I see."

He stood up abruptly. "And what if they don't, Georgina? What if they don't see it? Hmm? You've told me enough about them for me to know that they've made up their minds about who's 'worthy' of their daughter. I'm just a dumb hockey player to them. Nothing more."

"Don't say that," she pleaded, standing up and reaching out to him. "You're so much more than that to me. I'm not asking for their approval--I'm asking for a chance."

"A chance for what? To be judged by people who look down on me because I play a sport for a living? You know how that'll go. And I don't want to go through that."

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, her voice breaking. Jamie never raised his voice at her like that. "Jamie, please. I can't keep living in two separate worlds like this. I love you, and I want them to know you. I'm trying to do the right thing."

He sighed, his frustration being replaced by exhaustion. "I get that you're trying, Georgie. But what happens when it goes to shit? What happens when they decide they don't approve? Are you ready for that? Because I'm not sure I am."

She had never considered the possibility of losing Jamie because her parents didn't approve.

"So, what are you saying?" she whispered.

"I'm saying that I don't want to be the reason your family turns against you. I can't watch that happen."

"So, what, you'd rather just keep things easy? Stay in our little bubble and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist?" Her voice rose, sharp with hurt... betrayal.

"That's not what I'm saying, Georgie, and you know it."

"Then what are you saying? Because right now, it sounds like you're just looking for an excuse to avoid them forever!"

"Maybe I am! Maybe I don't want to go somewhere where I know I'm not welcome. Did you ever think about that?"

The room went silent, then tension between them suffocating. Georgie felt her heart pounding in her chest, her head spinning. She turned away from him, running a hand through her hair. "I'm going home."

The clicked shut behind her, leaving Jamie standing in the living room. He sank into the couch, burying his face in his hands. He sat like that for a few minutes until his phone buzzed with a message from Cam.

Everything good? Heard some of it from my room. Wanna talk?

Not really. I don't know what to do, man. I think she's really pissed

~~

Georgie stormed into her apartment, throwing her keys on the counter. She let out a long, frustrated groan, running her hands through her hair.

Olivia looked up from the couch, a pint of ice cream in her lap. "Uh-oh. What happened?"

"He's being fucking impossible, Liv!" She made her way to the kitchen, pulling a bottle of white wine from the fridge and pouring herself an above average sized glass.

"Impossible how?" Liv asked, shoving the spoon in her mouth.

"He doesn't want to meet my parents. Like, at all. He think they'll judge him--well, actually, he knows they will. But that's not the point!" she exclaimed, hoisting herself up to sit on the kitchen island. "I get it, okay? My parents are... difficult people. But I love him, I want them to see how much love I have for him."

"Mmhmm. So, he's refusing to go? Flat-out?"

"Yeah! And he's making it sound like some horrible fucking trap I'm setting him up for. I'm not asking him to marry me for fuck's sake. I just want them to meet him. It's been seven months!"

"Okay, okay, slow down, Georgie. Come sit over here."

Georgie placed her wine on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch with a huff. Olivia handed her the ice cream without a word, and Georgie accepted it, digging in angrily.

"I just don't understand him! He just assumes the worst is going to happen. He thinks they're gonna like pull me out of school so he'll never see me again. I mean, sure, they're judgey as hell, but who's to say they won't come around when they see how happy I am?"

"I mean, Georgina, your parents aren't exactly known for being the most... open-minded people. You've told me plently horror stories about your dad giving guys that were just your friends the third degree for way less than being a professional athlete."

"I know, I know. But I thought they'd see how happy I am with him and... am I being delusional?"

"Not like totally. But def a bit. You have to like see where Jamie's coming from. He's just trying to protect himself--and probably you--from a big mess. Maybe he's scared of putting you in a position where you have to choose."

"He actually said something like that. He doesn't want to be the reason my family turns against me. But that's not fair. He's not the problem. My parents are! I can't live like this though, Liv. Pretending they don't exist, or pretending the love of my life doesn't exist? It's exhausting."

Olivia nodded slowly, taking the spoon from Georgie's hand and grabbing herself a bite. "Okay, let's break this down. You're in love with him, right?"

Georgie shot her a look. "Obviously."

"And you want him to be a part of your life, like, all of it?"

"Yes!"

"Then maybe, the like real issue is timing. Maybe Jamie needs more time to wrap his head around dealing with Joan and Michael. And maybe you need to figure out how to handle them, with or without his help. You guys need to be on the same page about what happens next, Gee."

Olivia always had a way of making things sound much more logical. "I just hate that I've made him feel like he isn't enough. I wasn't trying to, I guess it just came out wrong. He got so mad, Liv. Like more than he does on the ice. He even said he might be avoiding meeting them altogether."

"Yikes. Yeah, that's a tough one. But look, if you're both like serious about each other, you'll figure this out. Let him cool off and then talk about it again. And maybe give him some reassurance that whatever happens isn't a dealbreaker for you."

"You're right, Liv. God, you're like always right. I shouldn't have pusehd him. But like what if the longer I wait, the bigger the gap between him and my parents becomes?"

"You two are going to figure this out. Just give him some space. He'll def reach out when he's ready. That's how your Jimmy is, right?"

"I love you, Livvy."

"I love you more, Gee."

~~

Olivia grabbed her bag from her bedroom, slipping her phone into the front pocket of her jeans. Georgie watched from the couch, still holding her now-empty wine glass.

"You're leaving?" Liv was never one to cut girl talk short, especially after a rant like that one.

Olivia grinned, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "I'm giving you and Jimmy some space. You guys need to talk without me lurking around like a psycho killer. Plus..." she wiggled her eyebrows. "Let's be honest, you probably need the apartment for some make-up sex."

"Liv!"

"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it. And you two fuck like rabbits. Have been since the first night you met."

Georgie blushed, covering her face with a throw pillow.

"But seriously, talk to him. I'm crashing at Claire's for the night, so you two better be cuddling when I return, got it?"

"Thanks, Livvy. Love you."

"Love you more!" she shouted over her shoulder as she left. "Good luck with Jimbo!"

The apartment fell silent and she sat there for a few minutes, her thumb hovering over Jamie's contact. But before she could click call, the door unlocked, and in walked Jamie. He looked so tired--his hair disheveled, his shoulders tense, but his eyes softened when he saw her on the couch.

"Spare key. Sorry for not knocking, wasn't sure you'd answer if I did," he admitted.

"Hi."

"I'm sorry, Gee. I shouldn't have raised my voice. I just--everything about this situation freaks me the fuck out. I didn't mean to hurt you or push you away."

She shook her head, walking over to him. "No, Jamie. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should never have pushed you like that. I was just too focused on my fear of losing you, and I wasn't thinking about how hard this must be for you. I know what my parents are like, and it's not fair for me to just expect you to be okay with all of it."

Jamie sighed, taking her hands in his. "I get why you want me to meet them, and I get that this is very important to you. But I wasn't ready... I wasn't sure if I could deal with whatever they throw at me. But now..." He paused. "I'm ready, Georgina. I want to do this. For you. Because I love you."

Georgie blinked, stunned. "You... you're ready?"

"Yeah, I thought about it a lot after you left. I don't want to keep pretending like your family doesn't exist. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, but we'll figure it out. Together."

"Oh my God, Jamie!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I can't believe this! Are you serious? You're really ready?"

Jamie chuckled, hugging her tightly. "Yes, babe. I am."

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her hands coming up to cup his face as she kissed him, pouring every ounce of her love into it. He kissed her back, his hands holding her waist like he never wanted to let go.

When they finally pulled away, Georgie rested her forehead against his, her voice soft. "Thank you. I love you so, so much, Jamie."

"I love you too, Georgie," he murmured, his lips brushing hers one last time before he smiled. "Now, how about we head to bed? We've got some cuddling to catch up on."

"You read my mind."

They walked into her bedroom, hand in hand. The weight of the argument had lifted, and for the first time in the last few hours, Georgie felt a strange sense of peace. She stripped down so she was just in Jamie's shirt, before nestling her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They were going to face things. Together.

~~

Georgie was once again staring at her phone, but this time it wasn't Jamie's contact she was staring at, it was her mom's. She had rehearsed the conversation, but somehow, none the options seemed right. With a deep breath, she clicked dial and held the phone to her ear.

"Georgina, darling! What a lovely surprise," her mother's shrill voice filled her ear.

"Hi, Mom." Georgie tried to keep her tone light, but her nervousness was already making her voice crack. "How are you and Daddy?"

"Oh, we're fine. Just finalizing some details for your father's work gala next month. You know how he gets about these events. What about you, dear? How's school? You must be knee-deep in preparations for next school year."

"Yeah, school's good," Georgie winced, realizing she was in fact stalling. "Actually, I'm calling because... well, I'm coming up to the summer house next weekend, and I'm bringing someone with me."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

"Bringing someone?" Her mother's voice sharpened. "Who is this someone, Georgina? You've never mentioned anyone before."

"Yeah, well... I've been seeing someone for a while now. He's... my boyfriend."

Her mother laughed, "A boyfriend? Oh, my. And you're only just now telling us?"

Georgie bit her lip, regretting not easing her mother into the conversation. "Yeah, I know. I just... wanted to make sure things were serious before I introduced him to you and Daddy."

"That's exciting news! What's his name?"

"Jamie. His name's Jamie."

"Jamie...?" Her mother's voice trailed off, clearly waiting for more information.

"Jamie Drysdale," she replied, praying her mom wouldn't recognize the name immediately. She wouldn't. She didn't watch sports. But... what if she did?

"Hmm. Drysdale. That's not a last name I know. What does he do, dear? Is he a student as well?"

"He's not in school. He, uh, he works actually." She mentally kicked herself for how stupidly vague she sounded, but she wasn't about to drop the hockey bomb over the phone.

"Works? Doing what, exactly? Is he older? Surely you're not dating a... blue collar boy," she sounded disgusted at the idea.

"No, no. It's, uh, complicated. I'll explain everything when we're there. But he's great, Mom. Really. You and Daddy will love him." Georgie crossed her fingers, praying that she wasn't overselling it.

"Well, I hope so. I trust you've chosen wisely. Your father will be very interested to meet him."

"Yeah, I'm... sure he will."

"We're just surprised, Georgina. You've never kept secrets from us before. But if you're happy, then we're happy for you."

"Thanks, Mom. I really think you'll like him. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before we arrive. We'll take Jamie's car."

"Of course, dear. We'll be expecting you both. Saturday, yes?"

"Yes, Saturday."

"Well, I'll let your father know. He'll be very curious, I'm sure. You know how is about meeting everyone new. We're looking forward to it, Georgina. And this Jamie character--well, we'll just have to see, won't we?"

"Yeah, we'll see."

"Alright, darling. I must let you go, your father needs my help. Be sure to tell Jamie that we're looking forward to meeting him."

"I will. See you next weekend."

"Goodbye, dear. Love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

She hung up and let out a long breath. Well, that certainly went better than expected. But the real test would be the weekend--when her parents found out that their daughter's boyfriend was a professional hockey player.

~~

Jamie could feel Georgie's eyes on him from the passenger seat. She seemed laser-focused on the side of his face, her mind spinning. He had one hand on the wheel, the other on her thigh. She finally took a deep breath and blinked.

"Okay. I guess we should talk about what to expect."

Jamie raised an eyebrow. "This is about your parents, huh?"

"Yeah... there are a few things you should know before we get there."

Jamie's hand squeezed her thigh, something he often did to reassure her. "Alright, hit me, baby. What am I walking into?"

"First of all, my dad's name is Michael. He's... intense. He's the CEO of an investment firm--Elwood Capital. Very old money, very... opinionated." She paused. "He values success, status, and manners. So, just like be polite, answer his questions, and don't take anything he says too personally."

"Got it. What about your mom?"

"My mom, Joan, is well... she's a classic socialite. She's all about image and reputation. She love's entertaining, so don't be surprised if she goes all out for our visit. She'll probably ask about your background, family, that kind of thing. She's not as harsh as my dad, but she definitely has 'old-fashioned' views."

"'Old-fashioned' as in..."

"As in they'll probably ask when we're getting married and having kids."

"Seriously?" Jamie blinked in surprise.

"Oh, yeah," Georgie rolled her eyes. "In their world, that's the next step after dating for seven months. They have no concept of 'taking things slow.' Just brace yourself."

"Alright. Noted. So... Michael and Joan. Old money. Probably want grandkids ASAP." He shot her a playful look. "Anything else?"

Georgie winced slightly, knowing the next part would be the hardest for Jamie. "Yeah... one more thing. My parents don't call me 'Georgie.' They think it's a boy's name. So when we're there, you'll need to call me Georgina. I know it's weird, but... it's like one of their 'rules.'"

"I can do that. Georgina it is."

"Thanks, babe," she murmured. "It's just... they have this whole thing about appearances. You'll notice they care a shit ton about manners and stuff. It's like super formal. I've spent my whole life playing the role, and I just--" She trailed off, blinking rapidly. "I don't want you to feel like you have to be someone you're not. But I also don't want to give them a reason to be... difficult. More difficult than usual."

"Hey, I get it. I'm not going to pretend this won't be awkward, but I'll handle it. I love you, and I want to be there for you, even if your parents ask me when we're having kids after dinner." He smirked, trying to lighten the mood in the car.

"You're like seriously amazing, you know that?"

"I try," he removed his hand from her thigh, lacing their fingers together.

After a moment of silence, Georgie spoke up again. "Oh, and my brother Brooks will be there too. He's... your typical frat boy."

"Frat boy?"

"Yeah. He's studying finance at Cornell, and he's... like a lot to handle. He's not as formal as my parents are, but he's always trying to prove something. I'm sure he'll grill you about your job or try to make a competition out of nothing."

"Sounds fun," Jamie said dryly.

"Just ignore him. He can be annoying, but he's harmless," she added with a sigh. "He might make a few snide comments, but you don't have to take him seriously. I definitely don't."

"Alright. So, to recap: I'm going to meet Michael the CEO, Joan the socialite, and Brooks the frat boy. I'm going to call you Georgina, use all my manners, and probably dodge some invasive questions about marriage and kids. How am I doing so far?"

"You're doing great. I just... I hope it goes okay. They don't know you're a hockey player yet. I figured we'd save that when we're actually there. One hurdle at a time, right?"

"Yeah... figured that'd come up eventually."

"We'll handle it together, okay? No matter what."

"Yep. Together," he raised their conjoined hands to his mouth and gave them a quick kiss.

Thet were feeling a bit more at ease, but the storm was waiting for them at the summer house.

~~

The summer house was not what Jamie expected. When he thought of a 'summer house' he imagined a cabin or a cottage near the water. Instead he saw a mansion with a sprawling estate, perfectly manicured lawns and tall, pristine windows.

"Ready?" Jamie asked.

"As I'll ever be," she forced a smile. "Just remember... Georgina."

He grinned softly. "I got it. Georgina."

As they stepped out of the car, her parents were already waiting at the entrance, the imposing figure of her father standing next to her elegantly dressed mother. Brooks was lounging on a lawn chair on the porch, sipping what was definitely a whisky on the rocks, his signature smirk already plastered on his face.

"Georgina!" Her mother screeched, arms outstretched in gretting. "It's been too long, darling." She pulled Georgie into a very quick hug before shifting her attention to Jamie. "And this must be Jamie."

Jamie smiled, extending his hand. "Yes, ma'am. It's great to meet you Mrs. Elwood."

"Please, call me Joan," her mother replied smoothly, though the way she was looking at him was nothing short of calculating.

Her father stepped up next, his handshake firm, bodering on intense. "Michael Elwood. Welcome to our home, Jamie." His eyes lingered a little longer than necessary, as if he were also weighing him in his mind.

"Thank you, sir. It's a pleasure to be here," Jamie replied. His tone was just as perfect as Georgie had imagined.

As they moved inside, Georgie felt her brother's eyes on her. He hadn't said a word yet, but the smirk on his face said enough.

"What's up, Georgina," Brooks drawled lazily, making no attempt to get up from his chair. "Long time no see."

"Good to see you too, Brooks."

His eyes shifted to Jamie, his smirk growing... if that was possible. "So, this is the famous boyfriend, huh? Didn't think you'd ever bring someone home. Must be serious."

Georgie shot him a warning glance, but before she could snap back, Joan cut in.

"Brooks, don't be rude," she said, though her tone was more dismissive than it was chastising. "Georgina, darling, let's sit down for some drinks before dinner. Jamie, you must tell me about yourself. We know so little about you."

Jamie nodded, following the family into the living room. The walls were adorned with family portraits and antique furniture, each piece screaming money. Georgie sat beside Jamie on the sofa, her hand slipping into his.

Joan handed out drinks as Michael settled in a large leather armchair.

"So Jamie," Michael began, his tone measured. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from Toronto originally, but I've been in the U.S. for a while now."

"Toronto. Quite a respectable city," he leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on Jamie. "And what is it that brought you to the states?"

Jamie kept his smile, but Georgie felt his hand tighten around hers.

"Work, mostly," Jamie replied smoothly. "Lots of great opportunities here."

"And what line of work are you in?"

Before Jamie could answer, Brooks let out a loud laugh, cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. "You really think Georgina would date a guy who can't afford a place like this?" He gestured around the room. "Relax, Dad. I'm sure Jamie here is doing quite well for himself."

The comment, while rude, gave Jamie time to avoid answering directly. Georgie shot Brooks a glare, but he just smiled right back at her.

"I'm lucky to be in a good position," Jamie replied, dodging the specifics of it.

Joan smiled, "Of course, dear. You seem quite composed." She turned to Georgie. "And how did the two of you meet?"

Georgie hesitated for a split second. The last thing she wanted to say was "at a hockey game," but before she could make up a response, Jamie jumped in.

"Through mutual friends," he said easily. "It was one of those on a whim connections that really just clicked."

~~

Later that evening, the four of them sat around the large dinging table, silverware clinking against china plates. Brook had been relatively quiet at dinner, only making a few snide comments about Georgie bringing someone home after all these years.

"So, Jamie," Joan asked, dabbing her mouth with a napkin, "what are your future plans? Are you thinking of settling down soon?"

Georgie nearly choked on her wine.

Jamie cleared his throat, caught off guard by how quickly the question had come. "We're happy where we are right now. We're taking things step by step."

"Step by step," Michael echoed, his expression unreadable. "Interesting approach."

As the conversation continued, Jamie slipped up, almost reflexively saying, "What do you think, Georgi--" before catching himself. His eyes darted to her father, who looked up quickly.

"What Jamie meant to say was, what do you think, Georgina?"

Her father stared at him a long, agonizing few seconds before nodding. "Right. Georgina."

The room grew uncomfortably silent before Joan stepped in, "Well, it's been a lovely evening, but I think it's time for a nightcap in the sitting room, don't you think?"

~~

Georgie stepped into the extravagant bedroom she'd made hers, flicking on the soft, golden lights. The space was luxurious as ever--thick drapes, an oversized canopy bed, and rich mahogany furniture. She always felt like an outsider in this house, like she playing pretend.

Jamie let out a low whistle, eyeing up the room's decor. "This is... next level, Georgina."

"You don't have to use that name when it's just us," she shuddered.

"I know. But I'm practicing for tomorrow."

"I think we survived today, don't you?" she asked, leaning against the bedpost.

Jamie walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest. "I'd say we did pretty well. Your parents don't seem to hate me, and your dad didn't grill me too hard. I call that a win."

"Yeah, well, it's only day one. Brooks hasn't really gotten started yet, and tomorrow's going to be full of questions."

"We'll handle it. You were great tonight."

"Thanks," she murmured, pulling away from his arms and walking toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna shower. You should get ready for bed too."

Jamie sat on the edge of the massive bed, letting the events of the night replay in his mind. Dinner had gone better than he had expected, but it was still a tightrope act, not saying he wasn't a hockey player but also not saying he was.

Michael seemed like the type of guy who could sniff out weakness from several miles away. And while Jamie had managed to dodge the career question today, it was certain to come up again.

He stood up and pulled off his shirt, slipping into the pajamas Georgie had packed him--way fancier than his usual boxers... or nothing. He chuckled, shaking his head as he looked through the other clothes she'd packed. It looked like he was dressing in his pre-game suit almost everyday.

A few minutes later, Georgie emerged from the bathroom, her wet hair already curling at the ends and her body wrapped in one of Jamie's Flyers shirts she'd stolen months ago. She tossed the towel over a chair and climbed into bed with him, the mattress sinking under her.

"So, how do you think it went?" Jamie asked, trailing his fingers up her arm.

"Honestly?" she turned to face him, resting her head on his chest. "Better than I expected. My parents were... well, they were less intense than usual. And Brooks hasn't been too obnoxious yet, which is a miracle."

"I noticed your dad sizing me up, but he didn't go full interrogation mode. That was a relief."

"Yeah, that's win. I think they're still trying figure you out. But they liked you, I could tell."

Jamie brushed his lips against her temple. "Good. As long as they don't hate me, I'll take it."

Georgie smiled, tilting her head to kiss him. The kiss started sweet, but quickly deepened, her hand sliding into his hair as their bodies pressed together under the plush duvet. Jamie's hands reached down to her ass, squeezing as he pulled her closer.

Just as things were heating up, the door burst open.

"Georgina!" Brooks' voice rang through the room, as loud and annoying as ever. "Oh, shit, sorry! Didn't mean to interrupt your little... thing."

Georgie shot up, pulling away from Jamie who groaned. "Brooks, what the hell? Get out! Have you never head of knocking?"

"Relax, Georgina! I just wanted to see how lover boy here is settling in. Didn't realize you two were... busy. Sorry to interrupt your... bonding time."

Jamie forced a smile, clearly trying to hide his irritation. "Everything's fine, Brooks."

"Good, good. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. Just wanted to say, Jamie, you survived round one. But don't get too comfortable," he chuckled, turning on his heel and leaving.

Georgie fell back on the pillows with a groan. "God, he's fucking insufferable."

Jamie laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Hey, at least he didn't walk in five minutes later."

"That's one way to look at it."

Jamie smirked, pulling her back into his arms. "Now, where were we?"

~~

Georgie and Jamie entered the dining room together, the table already meticulously set. Michael was at the head of the table, his newspaper folded neatly beside him. Joan sat to his right, sipping from an expensive looking teacup, while Brooks lounged in his chair, his breakfast barely touched.

"Good morning, Georgina, Jamie," Joan smiled, gesturing for them to sit down. "Did you sleep well?"

"We did, thank you," Georgie smiled, taking a seat next to Jamie, who was still adjusting to his new surroundings.

"I was just telling your mother," Michael began, folding his hands in front of him, "that I'd like to get to know more about you, Jamie. We didn't get to dig too deeply into your background yesterday."

Georgie internally groaned. Here we go.

Jamie just smiled, reaching for the coffee pot. "Of course, sir. What would you like to know?"

"Let's start with your family." Michael spoke with the tone he used with clients. He was acting like he was conducting a fucking business meeting. "Where do they live? What do they do?"

"My family's still in Toronto. My dad's a construction manager and my mom is a teacher."

"Hmm, working class. Must've been quite the change for you, being in the States then?"

"It was, but I've adjusted."

Brooks snorted into his coffee. "Yeah, sounds like a big shift. Not everyone's used to... this kind of life, right, Jamie?" He waved his hand around the room, clearly enjoying his subtle jab.

"Brooks," Georgie snapped.

"What? I'm just making conversation. I mean, Jamie here's gotta be doing pretty well for himself if he's hanging with us, right?"

"I'm doing alright," Jamie shrugged.

As breakfast continued, Joan took a more pleasant, if not extremely pressuring approach.

"So, Jamie," she began sweetly. "Georgina's father and I were talking last night. And we couldn't help but wonder--you said you're taking things step by step. But you've been together... what was it? 7 months? That's an awful long time to not think about marriage or children."

"Mom!"

"What? I'm just curious," Joan said with a light laugh. "I think it's a fair question. I mean, I'd love a grandbaby or two soon."

Brooks took that as his cue to jump in, "Yeah, I bet you guys have been practicing lots."

Georgie turned bright red. "Brooks, shut up!"

"Brooks, enough," Michael boomed, though he didn't seem like he fully understood the joke. "But your mother's right. You've been together a while now. What's next?"

"We're not rushing into anything, Daddy. We're happy."

"Well, as long as you're happy."

~~

By the time that lunch rolled around, the questions had been relentless. Michael and Brooks had been shooting questions at Jamie, left, right, and centre. As they sat down for another formal meal, Michael decided it was time to be straightforward once more.

"So, Jamie, I've been wondering about your work. You mentioned you came to the States for career opportunities. What exactly do you do?"

Jamie hestitated for a moment, knowing there was no ducking out of this one. He met Georgie's eyes, and she gave him a small nod.

"I'm a professional hockey player."

The room went silent. Brooks' fork clattered onto his plate, while Joan's expression was frozen in a mask of surprise.

"A... hockey player?" Michael asked, it was clear from his tone that he didn't find that nearly as respectable as he'd hoped. "As in... professional sports?"

"Yes, sir. I play for the Philadelphia Flyers."

Joan blinked. "Well, that's certainly... unexpected."

Brooks, on the other hand, couldn't hold back his laughter. "Wait, wait--you're telling me you're a jock?" He slapped the table, howling. "And here I was thinking you were some kinda bigshot investor or something! Georgina's dating a fucking jock! That's gold!"

"Brooks, stop it," Georgina glared.

"And how long do you think this career will last, Jamie? Professional sports aren't exactly known for their longevity, are they?" Michael ignored his son's antics.

"I'm aware it's not a forever career. But I'm building a future for myself beyond playing. I have a strong support system and I'm taking steps to ensure my financial stability."

"Hmm. I suppose that's... something."

Joan smiled tightly. "Well, it's certainly... different. Not exactly what we expected, but if Georgina's happy, then I suppose that's all that matters."

Brooks leaned forward, still chuckling to himself. "Well, this weekend just got a hell of a lot more interesting."

Jamie and Georgina excused themselves to the garden to get some fresh air. But mostly to distance themselves from the judgement inside.

"That went about as well as I expected," Jamie said drly.

"I'm so sorry, Jamie. They're just... like that. I knew they wouldn't get it right away."

"It's fine. I just didn't think it would feel this... awkward."

"They'll come around," Georgie insisted, though she wasn't sure she completely believed it herself.

Jamie nodded, pulling her closer as they walked through the garden. "At least we don't have to hide it anymore."

~~

The door to the office clicked shut behind Georgie. Why her dad needed an office at a house that was meant for relaxing was beyond her, but there she was. Michael sat behind his desk, his gaze laser focused on his daughter. She had known this was coming, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Sit down, Georgina."

She obeyed without a word, sinking into the leather chair opposite him. Her hands rested in her lap, picking at her fingernails as she waited for him to speak.

"I wanted to have this conversation with you privately. I didn't think it was appropriate to discuss in front of your mother or Brooks, but I need to make my concerns about Jamie clear."

Georgie didn't react. She's been taught not to talk back--to listen and absorb everything her parents said, even if it made her feel sick to her stomach.

"Georgina, a professional athlete... it's not the kind of career that provides stability. His schedule alone will keep him away from home most of the time. And if you decide to start a family..." he trailed off. "He won't be there."

Georgie clenched her fists tighter, willing herself to stay composed.

"And then there's the matter of the career itself," he scoffed. "Hockey players... they don't exactly need to be intellectuals. It's a sport, Georgina. It's not a career that requires real intelligence or long-term thinking. What happens when he gets injured? One bad hit, and it's all over. You'll be left with a man who has no real skills to fall back on. Is that really what you want for your future?"

"I want the best for you. I really do. You come from a family that values success, security, and stability. Jamie can't give you that, Georgina. His career could end tomorrow, and then what? You'll be left to pick up the pieces?"

Everything in her life was supposed to fit into a neat, respectable box. And she'd broken that. She knew that her father expected her to agree, to nod and promise to reconsider, to make the "right" choice. But she couldn't. And she wouldn't.

For the first time since sitting down, she met his eyes. "I love him, Daddy."

Michael leaned forward, letting out a slow breath. "Love is important, Georgina, but it's not enough. You're thinking with your heart, not your head. I'm trying to make sure you understand what you're getting yourself into."

Her hands were trembling in her lap. She didn't want to argue with him. She didn't try to defend Jamie or explain why they worked. Because she knew it wouldn't matter to him. Her father had already made up his mind.

Instead, she repeated herself. "I love him."

"You're an adult now, Georgina. I can't stop you from making your own decisions." His tone was cold, distant. "But I hope you understand the risks that you're taking."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, that's all."

Without another word, Georgie exited the office, her heart beating like a drum. Her whole body felt heavy and all she wanted to do was run to her room and scream into a pillow until she felt normal again. But first she had to find Jamie.

~~

At the same time Georgie was talking with her dad, Jamie was talking with Brooks. But rather than an office, they were sat in the living room. Brooks had his feet kicked up on the couch like he owned the place. Jamie was trying to embrace the silence, but Brooks wasn't the type for that.

"So, Jamie," his voice dripped with condescension, "let me get this straight--you play hockey for a living?"

Jamie, who had been scrolling through Instagram, glanced up. "Yeah. I play for the Flyers."

"Right. The Flyers. And how long do you think that's going to last?" He chuckled, clearly amused with his own question. "I mean, sports careers aren't exactly... permanent, are they? A couple bad hits, a bad knee, and boom--you're done."

Jamie set his phone down. He'd expected some grilling from Brooks, but his smug attitude was starting to grate on him. "Yeah, I'm aware it's not forever. But I've been smart about it. I'm planning for a life after hockey."

"Right. Cause I'm sure you have time for that while you're chasing pucks around the ice. Tell me, Jamie, what happens when it's all over? When your fifteen minutes are up? You think you're gonna be some big shot, or are you going to be a washed-up athlete, living off whatever's left in your savings? What's the plan when my sister leaves you because you've got nothing left to give?"

"I'm not worried about that, Brooks."

"Oh, sure you aren't. What's the backup plan? When hockey's done, what're you gonna do? Coach some peewee league? Work at a sports bar? Or just ride Georgina's coattails?"

Jamie's hands balled into fists. Brooks was making it personal now, but Jamie refused to let him get under his skin. "I'm not planning to fail, Brooks. I've worked hard to get where I am, and I'm doing everything I can to make sure I'm set for the future. I don't need a backup plan because I'm building my future now."

"You know, I don't get it. What does my sister see in you? Sure, you've got the whole 'athlete' thing going for you, but... what else? What happens when the fame fades and the money's not rolling in? You think you're going to be able to keep up with Georgina's lifestyle."

"Georgie and I don't live your lifestyle. We have our own."

"Right. Your own. You do realize the kind of family you're dealing with, right? My parents aren't just rich--they're legacy. This whole life, this world, is built on families like ours. And you? You're just some guy who got lucky with a stick and puck. Got even luckier when a rich girl fell for your whole 'pretty boy' act. You think you're gonna hold up under that kind of pressure?"

"I'm not here for approval, Brooks. I love Georgie and she loves me. That's all that matters."

"Good luck with that, Jamie," he laughed. "Because love doesn't pay the bills."

~~

Georgie sat next to the bath, running her hand under the water to find the perfect temperature to wash away the day. The door clicked and in walked Jamie, his expression tight.

"Hey," she whispered, turning to look up at him. "I was thinking... maybe we could take a bath? Just... relax for a bit."

"A bath?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "This place is fancy, might as well use it. Plus... we could both use a break from the outside world, don't you think?"

Jamie smiled softly, "Alright, a bath it is."

They undressed in a comfortable silence, the day's stress already fading away with the steam rising from the tub. Jamie slid in first, leaning back against the curved edge of the tub. Once he was settled, Georgie climed in and rested her back against his chest. Jamie closed his eyes, leaning his head against the back of the tub, while Georgie played with his hand, the tension draining from his body.

"Brooks have you a hard time, didn't he?"

"Yeah, you could say that. He pretty much tore into me, picking every piece of me apart." He rested his other hand on his knee, not opening his eyes as he spoke. "He was throwing every insult he could think of. Basically said I'm a jock with no future and that I'm only with you because of your family's money."

"I'm sorry, Jamie. Brooks doesn't know when to stop. He's... he's such an asshole."

Jamie shook his head, "It's not your fault. I knew it wouldn't be easy with him, or dad for that matter."

"Speaking of my dad... we had a conversation too."

"What did he say?"

"He told me that he's worried. That you're not... stable. That your career could end at any moment, and he doesn't think it's a smart choice for me to be with you."

Jamie's jaw tightened. "So he thinks I'm a temporary thing?"

"It's more than that," she replied, tracing patterns on the surface of the water. "He doesn't think being a hockey player requires intelligence. He kept saying you don't have 'real skills' and asked what would happen if you get injured. He was so... dismissive."

"I'm not going to say I'm surprised. Your dad made it pretty fucking clear he doesn't think much of me. He didn't have to say it outright."

"I hated it. I sat there and let him pick you apart like you're some kind of... I don't know, risk? But all I could tell him was that I love you. That was all I could say."

"That's enough, Gee. You don't need to justify anything to them. I know it's hard, but we're on the same page, and we'll get through it."

"I just wish they could see you the way I do."

"Maybe they will," he brought his hand up to rub her shoulders. "Maybe they won't. But I'm not going anywhere, no matter what they think."

"I'm so lucky to have you," she leaned into his touch.

"I think I'm the lucky one."

Gee turned around, sloshing water onto the floor in the process, but she didn't care. She cupped his cheeks and kissed him. For a while they just sat there, enjoying each other's company, stealing the occasional kiss. As long as they had each other, they could survive anything.

~~

Tension radiated from Jamie, his posture rigid. He'd barely touched the soup that had been placed in front of him. Georgie had only looked at her food, her stomach much to upset to eat. She was hyper-aware of the silence that fell whenever Jamie answered someone's question or when Brooks threw in an unnecessary comment.

"You know," Brooks said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I never realized my sister had such low standards. I mean, a hockey player? I guess you've got one hell of a personality, because you sure don't have much else going for you."

Jamie's jaw clenched for the thousandth time that day, his eyes darting to Georgie, waiting for her to speak. But she couldn't. She couldn't form any words. Her parents exchanged uncomfortable looks, but neither made a move to stop him. It was if they were waiting to see how it played out, complicit in his cruel jokes.

Brooks wasn't done. "I mean, come on, Georgina. You could do better. Or are you so easy you'll settle for someone this fucking pathetic?"

Something inside Georgie snapped.

Her hands slammed on the table, silverware rattling. "That's enough, Brooks!" Her voice was filled with a fury she'd never let show in front of her family. Her whole body trembled as the words spilled out before she could stop herself.

"How dare you talk about Jamie like that? You have no idea who is, what he's accomplished. He's a thousand times the person you'll ever be, and I'm tired of pretending like I'm okay with your constant insults and fucking disrespect!"

She turned to her parents.

"And you two! You sit there and let him say these horrible things! You act like it's fine because it's Brooks, and that's what he does. But it's not fine! None of this is fine!"

Jamie reached for her hand under the table, but she pulled away, standing up. "Jamie is the love of my life! Do you hear me? I'm going to marry him someday! And I don't care what any of you have to say about it!"

Her mother gasped, raising a hand to her heart. Her father's face grew stony, clearly disapproving of her outburst. But Georgie didn't care what they thought. She was far beyond the the point of caring.

"You don't get to judge him! You don't get to make me feel ashamed for loving him, and you don't decide who I'm 'supposed' to be with. Jamie and I are building a life together! If you can't deal with that, you won't be seeing me ever again. I'm done. With the insults, with the judgement. Fucking all of it!"

"Let's go," she whispered to Jamie, taking his hand in hers as they exited the dining room.

"Georgina--"

"No," she interrupted her father, "I said what I needed to say. If you can't accept Jamie, then you can't have me in your lives."

With that, she and Jamie left the room, the slam of the door sending shockwaves through the whole room.

~~

Georgie and Jamie left the grand house behind them, still walking hand in hand. Neither of them had spoken since they packed their things and walked out--there was too much to process, too much had just happened at once. They didn't speak until they reached the car when Jamie broke the silence.

"You okay?" he asked, turning to face her.

Georgie sighed, leaning against the car. "I don't know," she admitted. "I mean yes... I'm okay. But I just... can't believe I actually just did that. I've never stood up to them like that before."

"You were amazing in there, Georgie. You didn't just stand up to them... you like stood up for us. For me."

Georgie leaned her head on his chest. "I couldn't listen to it anymore. My dad, Brooks... all the judgement. I just snapped. But I meant every word of it, Jamie. I meant it when I said I'm going to marry you one day."

Jamie's eyes widened. He knew how serious they were about each other, but hearing her say it, especially under such emotional circumstances, made him feel a way he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

"You know... we don't have to wait."

"What do you mean?" she pulled away from his chest, blinking rapidly.

"I mean, we don't have to wait for 'someday.' I don't have a ring right now, but this isn't some grand proposal... but I love you, Georgie. And after the weekend we've been through... I don't want to wait. Let's do it. Let's get married."

Georgie couldn't believe her ears. It wasn't the proposal she'd dreamed of growing up--not a fancy dinner, not on exotic vacation, and with no ring. It was so unbelievably Jamie. And none of that mattered. What mattered was him. What mattered was them, together.

"Are you serious?" she whispered.

"Completly serious. I know it's not traditional in any sense of the word, but we can figure out the details later. You're it for me, Georgie. You're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I love you. Let's start the rest of our lives. No more waiting."

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and she laughed her way through them. "Oh my God, Jamie. Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."

Jamie pulled her into a kiss, holding her close. It wasn't the picture perfect proposal. It wasn't grand or over-the-top. But it was real. It was them.

When they finally pulled apart, Georgie wiped at her eyes. "I can't believe we're actually doing this."

"We are. Together, no matte what. Your family might come around one day, maybe they won't. But it doesn't matter, Georgie. I promise you that."

"I know. And I don't care what happens with them right now. All I know is that I need to be with you."

"Then it's settled. We're getting married. Me and you."

"You and me."

They stood there for a few more minutes, just wrapped in each other's arms. There were still so many things they had to figure out--but for now, none of that mattered. All that mattered is that they had each other. And they were ready to take on the world.

[eddiesxangel]

Me and You? Together? | Eddie Munson x Best friend Reader

Eddie Munson + You = BFFLS that’s all you’ll ever be… unless?

Cw: Angst? Small fluff, Queer!Eddie, reader uses she/her pronouns, open ending? One mention of the upside down (ikr who am I?)

wc:1.7k

I think the story needs more pages, yes I've been in love with her for ages 🎶

"Oh, you two are just the cutest couple in here." the older waitress with the retro yellow diner dress and apron with a name tag that read Judy, fawned over you and Eddie. However, you were quick to correct her.

"Oh no, no, just best friends," you lightheartedly giggle.

This stung Eddie. Friends. Best Friends. Two decades worth of friendship, and it haunts Eddie. That is all you'll ever be... Best Friends.

Not once had you shown an ounce of interest in being anything more, but Eddie, on the other hand, fell in love with you in stages throughout his life.

When you were three years old, you moved to the trailer park where Eddie and his family lived. Being the only two kids, you were immediately drawn to one another. Eddie remembers that summer, the scorching summer sun beat down mercilessly on the trailer park as you both ran around in your underwear, laughing and shrieking, under the cool spray of the garden hose.

When you were both five, you had a "wedding" and promised one another vows. Eddie always remembered his promise to be your best friend and to always be your best friend. He told you he loved you, and you told him you loved him and sealed it with a small kiss and a slew of giggles. Your parents gushed about how adorable it was and how they couldn't wait for the real thing. Too bad Eddie's parents never would make it to the real thing.

As you both got a little older, around ten years old, you huddled together in your sleeping bags, whispering secrets and sharing stories that only best friends could tell. The sound of your laughter would fill the air, mingling with the chirping of the crickets and the rustling of the leaves. Your makeshift tent made out of bed sheets and sticks would only last so long as a barrier before you got scared of bats and earwigs, but Eddie promised to never let anything hurt you. He held your hand until you fell asleep.

When you and Eddie were twelve, and he struggled with his parents, you lent him your unwavering support and helped him weather the storm. You were his rock, his confidant, his best friend.

Eddie's world had begun to feel unfamiliar and uncertain during that period. Puberty had started to alter his body and yours, for that matter. Eddie saw the changes happening within you and within himself... He noticed how you got more attention from boys as your chest started blossoming and how he also longed for that attention. An ugly feeling would bloom in Eddie's gut and he hated it when the boys would stare at you or talk to you.

But you would never stray too far. Even with your first boyfriend, Eddie didn't understand why he hated the guy so much. He was a nice boy and never picked on Eddie like the others, but for the life of him, Eddie hated his guts. Especially when he would watch him hold your hand or kiss you on the cheek. He wanted that with you, but he also wanted to be you? He was so confused. He, too, wanted to hold your boyfriend’s hand and have him kiss him on the cheek, and that scared him.

Both your emotions lead to changes in the dynamics of your friendship, such as sleepovers. Previously, a fun and carefree activity had become different since it was now mandatory to sleep in separate rooms, a rule both your parents and Eddie's Uncle Wayne agreed upon. Yet, through the difficult times of teenage angst, you both powered through and came out stronger than ever.

When all the shit happened with the upsidedown a little over two years ago, you were at his bedside every day until the visiting hours were over, and the hospital had to physically kick you out; you would be back the second they started up again the next day. That was the last straw for Eddie. He could no longer deny his feelings for you anymore. He was in love with his best friend.

"Oh well, that's too bad; if you ever change your mind, invite me to the wedding, okay?" She smiles and takes your orders to the kitchen.

When the waitress left, Eddie saw his window of opportunity.

"Hey, uh, what if I took you out?" Eddie fiddles with the paper straw wrapper.

"We are out, Stupid." You laugh.

"No, no, I mean, can I take you for a drink?" Eddie was never this anxious around you, and you noticed. Like something in the air had shifted.

"Like a drink?" you raise your brows.

"Uh... yeah." You had never seen Eddie so nervous with you before. Where was this coming from?

"Oh God, I'll have to think... We're friends, Eddie, I don't know? It-it doesn't feel right." This had caught you so off guard.

"It's cool... no, yeah,- I-I was just messin'," he waves off, and your heart alleviates.

"God Eddie! You really had me there." you laugh and Eddie's heart sinks, and you can see him slouch back into the booth. His body language completely shifted.

Fuck, how he hated this; you were the only one who ever made him feel right. You were it for him.

No matter how hard he tried, his mind would always wander back to the same vision of a future with you. He saw the two of you building a beautiful life together in his dreams. He imagined the joy of raising children with you, cooking together in the kitchen, and sharing parenting responsibilities. He could picture himself changing their diapers while you watched with a warm smile.

Visions of you going to the Winter Fair, which was not the most exciting event; he envisioned you, him and your hypothetical child going there every year, enjoying the festivities and watching the colourful lights glow in your eyes. These thoughts filled him with happiness, and he couldn't wait for them to become a reality.

Unfortunately, you have shot down any possibility of being more than friends with Eddie, not to hurt him but because you only see him as a friend. Never once had it ever crossed your mind to see Eddie as anything more. Honestly, you questioned his sexuality over the years.

One memory, in particular, flashed in your brain as you pondered on the possibility of Eddie being serious or just taking the piss?

"Eddie, what are you doing?" You walked into your bedroom to see Eddie standing in the middle of your room, facing your full-length mirror.

"Oh, me? I liked your dress and wanted to see what it would look like on me? Kinda badass, no? Some may even say... metal?"

You can't help but laugh.

“Ed’s, you can’t even do it up; you’re going to rip it!”

“You’re being a hater… Imagine! Me on stage shredding to Ozzy in this?" He gestures to your floral church dress, which he’s paired with his black Converse all-stars. He’s always been flamboyant.

You can't help but roll your eyes. Your mom just bought you this dress.

“What, Sunshine?” He smirks.

“Ed’s, are you?-Is there something you want to tell me?” You bite your lip, not wanting him to freak out.

“You know me, sunshine! I’m just me,” he twirled and showed off his boxers.

“Okay, but if you ever wanna tell me anything, I’ll be here for you.”

“I know.” He smiled.

Sometimes, you wondered about Eddie... He never fully came out to you, and you never pressured him to do so because you loved him regardless. You wouldn’t ever have a chance with him; he’s your platonic soul mate. Sure, he’s handsome if you like that bad boy-leather-metalhead thing, but who’s to say you were even his type? You were a girl.

When Eddie asked you out just now, you had no idea how to take it? He’s him, and you are you… you’ve been attached at the hip forever, but never did you think you’d cross the threshold? Did he want to cross it? Did you want to cross it?

He was so nervous as he asked you. His hands wouldn’t stop fiddling, and he fumbled his words. His breath got all gaspy, like when he was trying to brush off something that bothered him. Maybe he was being serious?

“Ed’s?”

“Yea?” You saw a glimmer of hope behind his eyes.

“Don’t you like… boys? I’ve never seen you-“

“It’s okay- lots of people think I’m gay, but it’s cool, right? We’re friends! Why would it not be?”

“No, no, of course, but you’ve-you’ve never been with a girl or at least that I know of? So I never thought… Really? Me and you? Together?”

“No, you wouldn’t have thought.” He bit back bitterly. “I know, I’m queer; you know I’ve always been different.”

“Ed’s, I’m sorry I just- I never thought of you like that because I’m a girl…”

“Ask me, Sunshine.”

“Ask you what?”

“You know.”

“Do you like girls?” You spit out.

“No, sunshine, I like you.”

“But you-"

“I know how I am!” He raised his voice. He never raised his voice. Not at you. “I don’t like conformity and social norms, and sure, I like men, and sure, I like to dress up in your clothes and like to put on your makeup, but fuck, I especially like it because that stuff belongs to you, I do it because I love you.” There he said it, finally he felt like the 100lb weight had been lifted off of his chest.

“Ed’s-“

“No! I love you, and I do it because I like it and to be close to you because you’re my whole world, sunshine, and if I can’t have you, I don’t know what I will do.” He reached out for your hand across the table, and you let him take it. Your fingers intertwine.

It was quiet for a moment. You needed to process. Things between you won’t be the same after this.

“Talk to me, Sunshine?”

“I just never thought this was an option between us, Eddie. I need time.

“I’ll wait for you; I’ve waited this long.”

You only stay in silence for a moment before Judy comes back around.

“Okay, kiddos, 2 burgers and fries, enjoy.” The waitress smiles and places your meal in front of you.

“Excuse me, Judy?” you call out.

“Yes, darling?” She turns back with a smile

“Can we see the drink menu?” You chide

“Coming right up”

[alpacaroni-and-cheese]

Leah, Fatin and Choice.

Not to wax lyrical about a TV show that was cancelled over two years ago, but The Wilds is pretty good, actually.

All 8 of the main characters (yes, eight, the boys don't count) are some of the most complex, layered and interesting characters I've ever seen. Each of them, on a surface level, seem to be one-dimensional.

Shelby, for example, is the goody-two shoes Christian flawless pageant queen. But she isn't, not really. She's a closeted, anxious mess, who is about one or two mental breakdowns away from shaving her head at any given time. She cares far too deeply, leaving her heart exposed and vulnerable.

Or take Rachel; on the outside, she's hard on everyone, angry and resentful, and bound for diving for America in the next Olympics. But in reality, she's burnt out. She might be hard on everyone around her, but she's hardest on herself. She suffers from bulimia, brought on by a few ill-advised words from her diving coach, and isn't even on the team anymore. She is angry, and she is resentful, but I think she has good reason to be. So when she does release that anger, it's an inspiration for us all.

You can do this kind of analysis with all of the characters, but the two I want to focus on in particular are Leah and Fatin.

Leah, the boring, ordinary, average girl from the Bay, who thinks too much and leaps before she looks.

That doesn't even scratch the surface of who Leah is.

She's whip-smart, and not in the "knows the first 20 digits of pi" Hollywood style of smart. She notices things and tucks them away in her brain until she has a moment to herself where she can ruminate, drawing connections where maybe there aren't any, and draw conclusions based partly on evidence and partly on a near-infallible trust for her gut.

She analyses. Not in the (BBC) Sherlock kind of way where she just magics up the answer out of thin air, but in her own way. She sees something is out of place, and digs around in the rocks and dirt, bloodying her fingers and knees until she can figure out what's wrong.

She gets taken advantage of by a man far older than her, and lies about her age so he'd sleep with her. She's hopelessly, helplessly tied to this pathetic man, every aspect of her life tethered to him. So when he finds out the truth and removes every part of her from his life, she is left drowning in his wake. She clings to the book he wrote and the sick annotations he left for her like it's a lifeline, when it's actually pulling her further beneath the waves.

Leah broods, she ruminates and she analyses, until something gives way.

She runs headlong into walls until either they break, or she does.

Next, let's talk about Fatin.

Promiscuous, princess-y Fatin, who's never done a day's hard work in her life.

In 1x05, Fatin runs away from the group. In 1x04, she was (metaphorically and a little bit physically, albeit accidentally) mauled by Leah. Her soft underbelly exposed and prodded. The others have all made judgements on her character, and in their eyes she has come up short. So, she chooses to remove herself from the equation, and runs away, like a thief in the night.

She finds a waterfall, practically saving all of them from dying slowly of thirst. And Leah, who pushed her, shoved her, rejected her last episode, spearheads the campaign to find her, after a little encouragement and wake-up call from Dot.

Fatin is not used to forgiveness. We see her mother let things go, but her mistakes are not forgiven, and most certainly not forgotten. Her hurt is minimised and dismissed by her mother, so she turns to her father for support. He is her best friend and confidant. He always has her side.

But then she discovers the photos. Her father has been cheating with lots of women over a long period of time. He has been lying to and betraying their family for years. She lashes out and chooses to send his nudes to everyone in his contact list, not thinking it through properly. When this is inevitably drawn back to her, her father turns on her, and her mother just sits and watches.

She isn't familiar with forgiveness, so when Leah offers it to her the first time she chooses to willingly accept it, offering it back in turn.

Leah makes the choice to burn Jeff's book, severing the tether holding her beneath the water. She's free, and can breathe.

Fatin becomes her confidant, listening to Leah's theories about the island and offering reasonable explanations for what's going on, and it works for a while.

But Leah becomes obsessed with the island. She's convinced something is wrong, and works herself to the bone to discover the truth, at the expense of her own safety and sanity.

Fatin reaches out to her, tries to wade through the darkness clouding Leah's thoughts and pull her back into the light.

But she fails.

When Leah runs into the ocean, desperate to find a way out, Fatin can do nothing but watch. Rachel overcomes her fear of the water and drags Leah back to the beach. Dot wants to sedate her, just to be safe, but Fatin refuses. Leah's had enough choices taken away from her, so she lets Leah choose.

Fatin, who knows how damaging it is to have your autonomy stolen, gives Leah this choice. Fatin, who knows Leah had many decisions made for her in the past, lets her decide for herself. She lets Leah make the choice to live.

[rhiafayee]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write some form of our Captain coming home unannounced after a long stint in the field? (Take creative liberties). Reader doesn't know that he's coming back, but she's been on tenterhooks the entire time throughout, wondering when he will, so it's a massive surprise when he does (dare I say it's mostly horny Price?)

If this doesn't work for you, please let me know! Thank you :) 🧡

OMG my first ask 🥹 this literally means the world to me you don't understand, I appreciate you so much for being here 🫶

I know I've said i'm an NSFW blog, but just incase anybody here just wants to read good ol' fluff, I did label in this fic where it becomes NSFW! The last thing I want to do is make anyone uncomfortable or left out because they don't care to read smut! Reader has female anatomy but I did my best to not include pronouns just incase! I really hope you like it 🫶

Pairings: Husband!John Price x AFAB!Reader

Summary: After a long, dreadful period of time awaiting your husband's return from deployment, he shows up when you least expect it.

Warnings: Blood mentioned, non-severe injuries, afab, p in v, unprotected sex, just your casual smutty fic!

Thick, whitish-grayish clouds blanketed the sky, rain falling heavily from the base, an ombre effect forming as you viewed farther into the distance, watching the sky go from a shade of slate to a hue of black. The sound of the rain against the window caused you to curl up on the couch, a movie on in the background with the volume low enough to the point that you can hear the chatter of voices, but not enough to make out what is going on, and your favorite book seated comfortably in your hands. Next to you on the coffee table stands a hot mug, filled to the top, with only a quarter of an inch of space left to avoid any overflowing, of earl grey. A comforting blend that you find yourself pouring on rainy days like this. Adjacent to the mug was a picture frame, of you and your husband on your wedding day. Picking it up, you start to reminisce on the memories of your beloved, who is somewhere a thousand miles away right now.

He's been gone for what felt like years, but has really only been 4 months. The marriage was hard, to say the least. Drawn out periods of time where you aren't sure if he's even going to come home to you anymore, late nights arguing about how he's never here to spend time with you, thoughts of separation swarming your head at the lowest of points during your relationship. But every time he sees the doubt in your eyes, the realization that his work takes priority, he manages to ground you, tell you that one day he'll be home for good, and that he's never leaving again. The words start to feel empty after hearing them one too many times, now simply used as a way to comfort you; an empty promise. At least, that's what you've concluded as shortly after you make up from said arguments he's leaving you again. Missed birthdays, anniversaries, valentines day, Christmas, any calendar holiday you could think of, were rarely ever spent with your partner.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you put your book down, running your thumb across the glass of the picture frame where the polaroid of you in his arms, a white gown adorning your body, his ceremonial dress uniform on his, your lips attached together, just like your souls. A warmth overcomes you, a fuzzy feeling when you think of everything you've been through together. The late nights slow dancing in the kitchen, baking pastries together in the morning, attacking each other with the dry ingredients, making a mess of the floor and counters, as well as each other, everything now coated in flour. The small moments like this is what makes every argument and make-up worth it, knowing that the love you harbor for each other is inseparable, no matter the distance between you two.

Glancing at the clock, it reads 1406, 24-hour time becoming a usual part of your life, living with a military man. Taking out your grocery list, you figure now is a good time to knock out some errands to prepare for the upcoming week. After getting dressed and applying some of your make-up, you slip your shoes on and head out the door. The drive to the store is calm, the rain pattering against the roof of the car, the refraction caused by the rain water making the headlights in the distance slightly blurred.

Walking through the store, shopping cart in front of you, list in your left hand, your pen in the other, you slowly make your way through each aisle, scratching a line through each word in the list as the corresponding item makes its way into your cart. Strolling the cart to the front of the store and making your way through the checkout line, you grab your bags, pay the amount ringed out by the cashier, and make your way out. Upon placing all of your grocery bags in the car, you make your way towards the cart return. Glancing down to your phone to recheck the time, you feel a change in the texture of the ground below you, before you get the chance to process the difference, you feel a sharp pain in your ankle, jolting up your calf into your hip, and then a wave of agony hits you when your head eventually makes its way onto the pavement as well. Sitting up on your knees, you grab your nose. Blood. A lot of it. Pouring out as your eyes tear up and your ankle becomes numb.

Slowly making your way back into your car, you assess the damage. One, you're now soaking wet, and so is your car seat now, two, you seem to have sprained your ankle and broke your nose. Great. Right when you need your husband to take care of you, he's nowhere near to take action. Though your head feels dizzy, and you probably shouldn't be driving in your state, you realize that you need to get home to patch yourself up. As you start the ignition to your car, a check light comes up. Of course it does, you think. Low tire pressure. Just what you need right now on top of everything else. Taking a deep breath, you pull out of the parking lot and pray you make it home safe.

Limping your way into the house, not caring about the groceries now sitting in the car, an overwhelming feeling of dread and pain comes over you. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, everything hits you at once. The searing pain in your lower leg makes it hard to stand, and the dizziness in your head makes it hard to fight the pain off to at least limp your way to the couch. Letting your back hit the- now closed- front door, you sink to the ground, a fit of tears and sobs erupting from your body.

"Y/n?" A familiar gruff voice echos off the walls of the house. At first, you think it might just be your delusions from the injury and yearning, and then you feel a pair of warm hands on both sides of your face. Shooting your eyes open, you see the face of your husband, kneeling down to your level to look directly into your eyes. "Sweetheart, what happened?" John calmly spoke, wrapping his arms around you as to not panic you even more. A sentence of broken words and mumbles leaving your mouth, the struggle to breath growing. John doesn't speak, rather he comforts you by increasing the strength of the embrace, running his hands through your hair, soft "shhh's" leave his lips. Finally catching your breath, you feel your heart rate slowing down, but the pounding in your head getting more prominent. You look up to him, a defeated look in your eyes that breaks his heart into pieces, "I didn't think you were coming home." Your broken, hoarse voice breaks the silence. He feels his heart drop again at those words. "I'll always come home to you. You know that." He gives you a soft smile, kissing your forehead. "Now, why don't you explain to me what happened while I patch you up, yeah?" A soft smile forms on your lips, slowly nodding as to not aggravate your headache even more.

Picking you up, Price sets you down on the kitchen counter to grab some medical supplies, as well as pain medicine to soothe the pounding in your leg and your head. Filling up a small glass of water, he lifts you up once again and takes you to the bathroom to get some better lighting to patch you up.

-NSFW below-

Soft laughter fills the bathroom as Price listens to the day you've had. "So you're gonna tell me you let a puddle of mud ruin your day?" He chuckles lowly. You glare at him before sending him a cheeky smirk. Lifting you up carefully as to avoid hurting you, he lays you down on the bed. "You wait here while I go get everything from the car. Why don't you get yourself ready for me, love?" He finished his sentence with a wink that made your abdomen flutter. Months of being away from him, months without the ache in your nether regions being resolved, only relying on a couple videos shot by the two of you while you had the chance. Nothing you've tried could compare to him, though. Stripping down to nothing but your panties, you hear his loud, heavy footsteps booming through the hallway. Nervousness fills your body, the hairs on the nape of your neck standing at attention due to the anticipation of what was to come next.

You feel your clit throb, your subconscious becoming aware of the situation. His tall, broad figure enters through the doorway. Flicking the light switch down, the only light in the room coming from the storm still going outside, the gray tones flooding into the room and making your body look euphoric. The little light that is reflected into the room makes your eyes appear darker, the curves in your body more defined, the perkiness of your tits more delicious. Price feels his body relax at the site of you, his bright blue eyes turn into a shade of navy, making him appear more dominant and full of lust. Stripping his shirt off and disregarding it on the hardwood below him, you take in the sight of his hardened body, extra buff from the recent deployment, demanding strength for months on end. Stopping at the edge of the bed, above where you lay, you can make out the bulge in his jeans more clearly, your pussy throbbing with need as you realize just how long it's been since he's been inside of you.

"You're more gorgeous than the last time I saw you, you know that? You just keep getting prettier and prettier with time, darling." His voice laced with desire and need, thick like honey, his accent more prominent. You sit up, shifting your weight on your arm, as he leans down, meeting you in the middle to connect your lips together. The feeling of your tongues dancing together, the mixture of your saliva, his hand hard around your throat, it feels better than ever. Your sure your panties are soaked, you can feel your inner thighs get coated with your slick, your body preparing for him. Disconnecting your lips, you lean back down, mouthing his cock through his jeans, running your teeth across the outline. He groans, tangling his fingers through your hair with just enough pressure that you can feel it, but not enough to bring back any pain from earlier. After a long, hot make-out session, Price pulls away from you, a trail of saliva leaving the two of you connected.

Untangling his hand from your hair, he slowly repositions himself on top of you, kissing your neck, down your body until he reaches the elastic of your panties. He takes the band in his mouth, his teeth slowly taking them off of your body. You stare at him, your mouth agape in shock and need. After discarding your undergarments to somewhere on the floor, he spreads your legs, leaving a trail of kisses on your calf, up to your inner knee, when he reaches your inner thigh he becomes more rough, sucking and biting at the skin there, leaving purple bruises along your flesh. Keeping eye contact with you, he lays a light, feather-like kiss on your clit, making you gasp with pleasure, but not enough. Interlacing your fingers in his hair, you push his head down, an unspoken way of asking for more. "Greedy, are we love?" Price chuckles, now licking your clit. Rolling your eyes with a small giggle, "It's been 4 months, John, can you blame me?" Your voice is laced with desire and impatience as you speak. After what felt like an eternity of teasing, Price brings up two of his thick fingers, circling your entrance with them, his middle finger catching on your labia. Inserting them in, the stretch making you arch your back in pleasure and slight discomfort, "You're so tight baby, seems you haven't been takin' care of yourself down here." His fingers start moving in and out at a slightly faster pace, but not too much to make you fall apart already. He moves his mouth back to your clit, continuing his actions from earlier. With a loud moan and your back arching even more, you cover Price's fingers in your come, making him groan at the sight, his cock growing even harder.

Sitting up, the unbuckling of his jeans sparks a nervousness and excitement in your lower abdomen, a feeling you haven't felt in a long time. You stare as he unzips his jeans, taking them off along with his boxers. His thick cock bounces as it's freed from confinement, the heaviness of it making it droop down. You take it into your hand, slowly stroking him before taking it to your entrance. Price looks into your eyes as he slips it into your hole, making the both of you gasp at the intrusion. As he buries himself as deep as he can go, John waits for a moment to take in the feeling of you after such a long time, and to stop himself from coming too soon. The feeling of him stretching you open and the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix puts you in a state of nirvana. Circling your hips a little to create some sort of pleasure on your end, Price decides he won't make you wait any longer.

Slowly pulling his cock out until just the tip is inside, he smiles at you before slamming his length all the way back in. The feeling catching you off guard, you roll your eyes to the back of your head, letting out a loud moan "Oh my- fuckk." "You didn't think I was gonna be gentle did you?" Price lets out a low chuckle before repeating the same action. Lifting your legs up so your ankles are adjacent to his head, he goes faster, pounding into the back of your pussy like his life depends on it, hitting the same soft spot that you're convinced nobody else could reach. Reaching his hand down, John starts to rub your clit at the same pace as his hips, making you moan louder and louder. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, don't stop doing that" you whine out, making Price's lips curl up in a cheeky smile. "Yeah, you like that? Am I gonna make you come, baby?" He teases you, letting out a low groan. Nodding your head, Price feels your walls tighten around him, making his hips stutter and his moans slightly louder. "Oh shit baby, fuck you're so tight. You like coming 'round my cock, love?" You don't respond- you can't- not in the state you're in right now. You just hold eye contact with him while nodding your head.

Price's hips falter as you feel something warm inside of you all of a sudden. He stays there, his cock acting like a plug to keep his come pushed inside of you. Coming down towards you, Price leaves a kiss on your forehead before slowly pulling out, watching some of his come leak out of you. Looking up at your worn-out figure, he gets up to start a bath for you. Slowly unwrapping the bandage he skillfully placed on your ankle to prevent any unwanted movement, he places you in the warm body of water, making your eyes slowly close. The smell of lavender and vanilla fills your senses, the only light in the bathroom being from your favorite candle. Price cleans you up, making sure to be careful around your nose and your ankle, before picking you up gently to wrap your body in a towel.

He takes you back to the bed, which is now covered in a fresh pair of sheets, he lays you down gently before getting you dressed. Going to the bathroom to clean himself up, he decides now is a good time to tell you the news. Moments later he comes out, preparing himself for any reaction that may come out of you. Before he can speak, he hears your soft snores and sees your eyes glued shut, overtaken by a deep sleep. His lips form a soft smile, a feeling of warmth filling his body, feeling his heart skip a beat. He guesses he'll just have to tell you about his retirement in the morning.

[labyrinthofsphinx]

With all this talk of moral codes and all I've just got to ask- what moral codes do the three of you follow? I mean obviously neither Vox or Al want to hurt kids but Drift absolutely seems down to throw hands with them lol. But what other lines in the sand have been drawn?

Also, what are your favorite books? Vox, have you ever read The Sea-Wolf by Jack London?

So....this one will be getting into some story bits, just by the nature of what was asked:

The kid's code was kinda touched upon here a little and shown in Something Wicked, but generally...he's not a killer. He can and will scrap with anyone, if he decides there's a just reason, which can be as simple as a harsh enough insult. But he doesn't care who they are, men, women, or children. If he thinks you've earned it, one way or another, he doesn't mind teaching a lesson, best he can at his small size and stature. He will lie, steal, and cheat...so long as nobody gets seriously hurt. But to anyone that hasn't earned it, he's very empathetic. It would hurt him to hurt someone else, even on accident, if they didn't do anything to deserve it.

Vox's 'code' is a little harder to pin down, namely because he doesn't have as set or strict 'rules' as Al. His 'reason' for violence is because it's what gets him to his goal, what 'removes the obstacle' shall we say. If he can use other methods, great! Less cleanup. But he's not afraid to 'pull the trigger' either. Also, similar to the kid, Vox does not care about who his targets are. He's not going to hesitate if its a woman. Almost nobody in his circles are entirely innocent either...but he really wouldn't flip about having to take an innocent life, if he deemed it necessary. Though, you won't find him doing it for fun. He doesn't get a kick out of it. It's just 'part of the job' in a sense. Kids are the only exception to this because, well, they're kids. They're never in his way, too young to understand anything, and too innocent for all that nonsense. Also, deep down, he really does have a special tender spot for them. Blame it on the expectations of the time, or having too much experience working with scared kids on Hollywood sets, but he likes kids.

Al is an entirely different case altogether because, here's the thing: he both cares the most and the least about his targets. Emotionally, he couldn't care less. He honestly, truly loves to do it. And if he ever did take a wholly innocent life, he wouldn't normally lose sleep over it, might even delight in it...except for his code. We're going to get into more specifics later as to how and why Al got his code, but just be aware that he swore to himself that he would only kill those he thinks deserved to rot in hell. He has a very, very strong bias against killing women because most women he's met, even the bad ones, were victims of circumstances beyond their control. He's much more apt to blame a man for a woman's mistakes than giving her the entire blame...something he will have to contend with Vox about further along the line. He refuses to kill children, period. In his eyes, they're all innocent and are therefore excluded. Even when they aren't innocent, they are. As for what, exactly, gets you on his list...it's a difficult line to define exactly. Things that will obviously get you on the list: murder, arson, any kind of sexual violence, harming kids in any way, so on and so forth. Basically, he decided that he's judge, jury, and executioner of the people who slipped through the cracks in the justice system. He does, however, need the conformation of the crime, which used to be harder in the days before Vox became his partner.

As for where the lines are drawn...that's going to be a plot point later on. Because these guys are going to pushing and prodding that line the whole time. Al and Vox already kinda had because, I mean, they have a witness to the crime that's certainly a problem...but he's a kid. That threw their 'go to' plan out the window. Alastor also had his line pushed with Vox himself, just because he's Vox. In any other situation, Vox would be a perfect candidate for his list: a murderer, a cheat, a greedy slime, etc. However, Vox was useful...then he was a friend...now he's kinda more than that. Now he doesn't count for the list because he's attached to him. But, in the back of Al's head, in a nebulous sort of way, he knows Vox still checks all his boxes, even in ways that Rosie and Mimzy couldn't because, again, they're girls. It isn't lost on Vox either. He's just decided that if Al wasn't going to off him when they first became partners, then he never was going to.

I kinda sum it up like this: The kid is in survival mode, any extreme will only be even considered if it's do or die. Vox is opportunistic, and he's doesn't care about violence either way. And Alastor is the genuine article, the real hunter here, and the only one who actually, really enjoys and craves violence.

On a less dark note, the kid loves comic books, detective stories, and travel journals. He's also a big fan of old stories of heroes doing great and crazy things. Vox is a 'modern' story enthusiast, things like The Great Gatsby are his go tos, though he does like Jules Verne a lot too (also secretly loves old romance stories and poems but he will go to his grave denying it). Alastor loves ghost stories. He also doesn't mind the occasional thriller and horror genres, particularly gothic or eldritch horror.

And, yes, at some point, Vox probably would've read The Sea-Wolf.

Thanks for the ask!

[ed-recovery-affirmations]

Since feedism has lately become kinda controversial (people vehemently pro and vehemently anti ever since I made that post) I'm going to try to keep the conversation open in a positive, non-judgmental way. I do want to do my best to make this a safe space for all experiences to be heard. There are people who have had EXTREMELY predatory experiences being drawn into feedism. There are, as I've learned, also people who feel they've been able to establish a gentle, positive, and consent-based experience around the practice. I'm not taking either side, just reflecting on the initial reason I made that post and felt so anti-feedism there.

We know that diet culture, starvation, and the ana/mia constant of setting lower and lower goal weights does irreparable harm to the human body. Restricting as a teen, during a crucial developmental period, definitely damaged mine.

But so did bingeing. When I came out of anorexia, I cycled back and forth between that and binge eating disorder. And bingeing was at least as destructive and damaging to my GI system as starving. I'm not kidding. There was more than one time in college that I had to lie on my side on my dorm room floor because I'd eaten so much that I was in too much pain to get up, my stomach all round and hard like a basketball from being so stuffed. And I still felt the compulsion to try and eat more. I was miserable and I hated myself for hurting myself like that, but I couldn't stop. The only thing that I found to be supportive of my health was practicing intuitive eating - letting my own body dictate exactly what I needed, exactly how much, and when - no more, and no less. And it took a VERY long time for me to settle into that pattern and lessen instances of compulsive binge eating.

Just because this was my experience doesn't mean I'm saying no one's allowed to have a different one. But I will say, it definitely makes me feel somewhat concerned, as someone who is a strong proponent of intuitive eating, that a lot of the feeder content I have seen does hold a deliberate emphasis on consistent weight gain. Not specifically the eating part - the way that a feeder can encourage a feedee to keep gaining. The way recovery has looked for me is this: I let my hunger cues dictate my needs. My body can settle into whatever size it needs to be as I follow these hunger cues. I do not make a practice of ignoring my body's needs in order to deliberately change the size it naturally wants to be - whether that be smaller, or larger. That's what I have always been a proponent of, and I have always made a point to emphasize that intuitive eating absolutely applies to people who are naturally fat, that they have no obligation to starve their bodies in an attempt to stop being fat. "Just let your body be what it needs to be" has been the mantra that has best supported my relationship with food.

I think that's specifically what made me find feedism suspect - the emphasis on pushing continuous gain for kink purposes rather than any specific health need. (This is not me dunking on people who do get off on that relationship - just talking about my perspective as someone who absolutely HAD to learn how to put my own body behind the wheel and nobody else when it comes to what I eat, and how much.)

That being said, if anybody in this community wants to talk to me about specific ways they feel the experience has benefited them. And while it's okay to talk to me about kink (I'll make sure to tag appropriately) as kink is an important part of some peoples' lives, I am curious to hear if people feel they've experienced benefits outside of the kink sphere too, and what that looks like for them. Hoping to keep this an open, and respectful, conversation.

[haliteatiger]

I’m only just now seeing the dogblud stuff so I’m a bit late, but I just wanted to say that WOW firstly I am so sorry you went through that. And secondly I am autistic + ADHD and struggle with very severe meltdowns at times. I also have other mental stuff goin on that worsens them. but not even in my worst episodes or meltdowns have i EVER felt like it’s been ok or appropriate to speak to someone the way dogblud spoke to you, threatening suicide and so totally demeaning and subduing you. Actually appalling. Being autistic never gives us the right to treat someone like that. damn. I hope you have much better and more positive, healing, and enjoyable collaborative experiences going forward ❤️

Thank you so much for the reassurances, I really appreciate it!! I'm already well on my way to healing thanks to the new friends I've made through this, which I'm only sorry had to be through *this* at all. At the same time it's also making me realize the true extent of the damage as, despite my best efforts, I've been very anxious about collaborating with anyone, especially with regard to werewolves. I'm trying my best to avoid expectations of failure, disappointment, or worries of deceit, and carry on like I might have otherwise, but it's a struggle some days and carries a very similar tone to an earlier period in my life, so at least I know I will eventually grow beyond it provided I don't allow myself to be drawn into a similar situation. Healing, learning to function again in a similar space after what happened, isn't supposed to be easy, I suppose. For now, I'm more than happy to support and elaborate on others' projects and characters, and I know that, in the end, the biggest fuck you I can offer to Dog would be to complete and publish something. Bonus points if it's anything like what we had been working on together at the time. As it is, I can hardly bring myself to draw my own OCs from that period any more. I'll know I'll have made it when I can. In the meantime, I'm very grateful for the support folks like yourself have shown me after posting my story. It makes me physically ill looking at those screenshots. At one point in time, I would have become more angry than scared. I really, really wish I had just gone with my first impulse and pushed back a lot harder than what I did. All I kept thinking at the time, however, was "This is bad. Don't make it worse". lol I think Jackal and Rex handled things so much better than what I did, and admire their strength. I'm incredibly flattered that Jackal has asked to collaborate with me whenever I'm ready, too. I think, together, we'll make something wonderful that will more than make up for whatever we might have lost beforehand.

[strang3lov3]

Questions tag game!! Ty for the tag @covetyou !! ♡

Do you make your bed? Not very well. I straighten everything out but my barbarian of a fiance sleeps like a tornado so there's really no use in making it actually nice. I also leave most blankets untucked because my cat Jojo loves to sleep under the covers all day so I like to make sure he won't get stuck anywhere, has an easy way in and out. You get it.

Favorite number? 69 obviously. The best number.

What's your job? Full-time student, and later I'll be a teacher!

If you could go back to school, would you? I'm in school, so...I guess I'll just say I don't plan on doing more than getting my bachelor's. And I wouldn't go back to high school ever.

Can you parallel park? Fffffffuck no. Nope. I managed to do it for my driver's test when I was 16, and I haven't done it since. I also can't back into a parking spot.

Do you think aliens are real? Of course. My father in law once said something to me about how he really had a lot of respect for Dave Grohl until he learned he believes in UFOs and I think that's so funny. Also, he's a self-proclaimed music nerd but claims that punk has never been political. He said he misses when Green Day only wrote songs about jerking off instead of politics....Idk. I think he might be the one on another fucking planet LMAO

Can you drive a manual car? I can, actually!! I drove a stick-shift 2008 Honda Civic for two years! The clutch had to be replaced within five months of me driving that car 😬 My fiance says he shudders to think of what I did to that car lol.

What's your guilty pleasure? None!! I'm pretty shameless about everything I find enjoyable and I just don't feel guilt for liking what I like.

Tattoos? 14 now. I'm trying to prioritize getting filler on my arms so my tattoos look nice and connected on my wedding day. I also plan to get a crawling panther and cheetah on my back soon, and cover up my linework tats I got when I was 18.

Favorite color? Light blue.

Do you like puzzles? Depends on the puzzle. I fuck with a jigsaw puzzle but most other puzzles I really fucking hate. Like a Rubik's Cube and those weird metal puzzles make me feel stupid lol.

Any phobias? Mhmmmmm. Three. They're all pretty debilitating because they're all so unavoidable. And also, people can be pretty like, not understanding about these things and they make me feel silly and dramatic. But the nature of phobias is that they're irrational and can't always be helped. I wouldn't choose to be this afraid of things if I had any say in the matter, but I don't so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Emetephobia (fear of vomiting) - Last year, every time I went out to eat for about nine months, I'd wake up in the middle of the night and vomit. These experiences have traumatized me on some level so anytime my stomach feels weird - be it hunger, anxiety, pain, etc. I freak out and panic and cry for hours. Like this kinda happens 1-2 times every week.

Blood Injury Injection (BII) phobia - Pretty much what it sounds like. I do not like to see blood, my own or anyone else's (though period blood is different to me and doesn't make me squeamish). I can't look at injuries no matter how small - like that paper cut scene in Everything Everywhere really bothered me and I had to shut off the movie. Injections really freak me out too and I will avoid having my blood drawn at all costs. I know I have a lot of tattoos but I also have them separated in my mind. It's just a different animal to me.

Entomophobia (fear of bugs) - I can't do it. All bugs, big or small, scare the bejesus out of me. I won't sleep in my bedroom if I find a bug in there. Once, I opened up my jar of peanut butter and found it full of ants which was one of the most disturbing things I've ever experienced in real life. Most of my nightmares are all bug related too. Like centipedes in my hair is a common one

Favorite childhood sport? I was a gymnast and a diver. I didn't like team sports so gymnastics was great for me! At 11 I developed Osgood-Schlatter disease which causes severe pain in the knees which kinda sucks when you're a gymnast and you rely on your knees for a lot. So I quit gymnastics to dive instead, which was great because I could flip and still have fun. But after fucking up a dive, I became really scared of the sport and that was it for me. From then on, I focused on art instead of sports.

Do you talk to yourself? Nope. I talk endlessly to others though.

Full pressure tags - @cum-a-calla @mssalo-main @fungal-rot @ghostlovesbaguettes @ovaryacted

@guiltyasdave @kappasbbgirl @senselessviolets @baronessvonglitter @mountainsandmayhem

[fake-sturniolos]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬

pt2

SYNOPSIS:  a hopeless romantic teen attempts to secure a happily-ever-after moment with her forever crush, but finds herself reluctantly drawn to the boy next door.

WARNING: none!

word count: 1,722

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 'ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇꜱ'

I've wanted love since I was old enough to spell the word 'love', probably because of my mom's obsession with romcoms. I would watch romcoms with my mom all the time; it was our thing. We would get snacks, snuggle up on the couch, and binge all of her favorites. When she passed away, what I inherited was the knowledge that love is perpetually present, always a potentiality, and eternally worthwhile.

I walked out of my house in a relatively good mood, only to be met with the sight of the person who annoys me most in this world, Matt Sturniolo. He was standing in front of my car with a grin on his face. Well, that couldn’t be good. I shut the door behind me and pretty much ran at him. “What are you doing near my car.”

Matt just shrugged, giving me a smirk.

"What's in your hand?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said, putting his hand behind his back.

i rolling my eyes at him. "What did you do to my car?"

“technically i didn't do anything to your car”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He gave me a grin before saying, "Well, this has been fun, but I've gotta run.”

"Matt—" I began, but he turned around and walked back to his house as if our conversation hadn't just happened. I sighed and turned back to my car to see what he could have done to it.

Matt and I have an ongoing battle over who gets the parking spot, though he typically wins because he cheats. It's become a game of wits between us, each of us trying to outsmart the other in our quest for the coveted spot. But no matter how hard I try, it seems like Matt always has the upper hand.

I sighed and got into my car, only to find a parking ticket taped to the middle my windshield. Great.

I walked into school with 'Florida Kilos' playing in my headphones. I entered my first-period class and took the only available seat next to Lacy Johnson. Lacy is a high-class bitch, but there's no denying that she's gorgeous. We both grew up in the same neighborhood and hung out with the same kids. And every time we were together, she would find some way to call me weird or insult me in any way possible. It was like she had a radar for my insecurities and took pleasure in poking at them

“Nice dress, y/n," Lacy said, looking over at me.

I gave her a fake smile. "Thanks."

I pulled my phone out of my bag to see a text from my best friend, Audrina.

From Audrina:

You will not believe what I found out

To Audrina:

Spill

From Audrina:

You're not gonna want to be in class when I tell you, so meet me after

The bell rang, and I rushed out of class to our lockers. Audrina showed up right as I did.

"Okay, before I tell you, promise me you won’t freak out," she said.

"I can’t promise anything."

Before she could say anything, I glanced behind her and saw no one other than Tristan Parker walking in my direction. Audrina noticed the look on my face and turned around.

"Well, there it is," she said.

Tristan Parker was my childhood crush. He lived in my neighborhood and hung out with me and the few other kids on our block (Me, Matt, Audrina, Lacy, and a few other kids.) Till one day he moved to South Carolina. I never thought I would see him again but here he is.

“Y/N?” Tristan's voice jolted me out of my daydream, his gentle tone drawing me back to reality.

“Tristan?” I responded, my lips curling into a smile as I met his gaze.

In a heartbeat, he closed the distance between us, enveloping me in a warm embrace that felt like home. I felt my stomach flip. Oh my God.

All of a sudden, I feel someone bump into me, and I turn around to see Matt. Of course, if anyone was going to ruin this moment, it would be him.

“Matt!” I exclaimed, turning to face him. “You should really watch where you're going,” I said with a fake smile.

"‘Yeah, so sorry.” he said sarcastically, then turned to look at Tristan.

“Tristan!” he exclaimed, reaching out to dab him up.

“You were right about the biology teacher.” Tristan said.

“Yeah, she's a real bitch.” Matt grinned.

I watched as Tristan laughed. I tried to contain my smile, but it was useless.

“Relax, you're drooling all over yourself” Audrina whispered to me. I had pretty much forgotten she was standing there.

“You know Michael White, right?” Matt asked Tristan.

“Of course.”

“Well, he's having a party tonight. Would you be down to go?”

“Yeah, sounds good” Tristan replied.

“Alright, cool. I'll text you the details. But I gotta go. If I'm late one more time, I'm cooked.” he said, then turned and walked the other direction.

Tristan turned his attention back to me “I've gotta go too” he said “But we'll catch up later?”

I nodded eagerly, feeling a sense of anticipation bubbling within me. “Definitely” I replied, my heart skipping a beat as he flashed me a brief but warm smile before walking off.

Audrina sighed. “Don’t get too excited. I heard he's been talking to Lacy Johnson.”

I felt like someone had just punched me in the face. Why her? I didn’t get it. I couldn’t comprehend how someone like Lacy, who seemed to effortlessly have everything handed to her, could possibly be vying for the attention of the same guy I wanted. I couldn’t bear the idea of seeing the perfect guy for me end up with someone like her.

"I mean, they aren't official. I still have a shot,” I said, trying to reassure myself.

“Please don’t be that girl,” she said, giving me a pleading look.

Her words struck a chord within me, a reminder of the line I was treading. Did I really want to be that girl, the one who clung onto hope despite the odds?

I swallowed hard, the weight of my indecision heavy in my chest. "I won’t." I promised, though the words felt hollow even to my own ears.

Matt had beaten me to the parking spot, leaving me no choice but to park around the block and trek home through the pouring rain. As I reached my doorstep, a sudden realization struck me. If I could persuade Matt to take me to the party, it could be my ticket to getting closer to Tristan. I turned on my heel and headed next door, where I knocked on Matt's door. After a few moments, he opened it slightly, a bemused grin on his face.

“Well, well, well,” he chuckled, taking in my drenched appearance. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

I rolled my eyes, feeling the chill of the rain lingering on my skin. “I need to talk to you.”

His eyebrows raised in mock suspicion. “Why? Planning to exact your revenge?”

“Matt, just let me in,” I pleaded, my patience wearing thin.

From behind him, I heard his mother's voice. “Matt, stop teasing and let the poor girl in.”

“I think she's here to assassinate me,” Matt joked

“Hi, Mary Lou.” I said smiling at her.

“Hello, y/n. Come inside before you catch a cold,” she said kindly, ushering me into the warmth of their home.

“Thanks, Mary Lou,” I said gratefully

Mary Lou smiled warmly. “Of course, dear. Let me grab you a towel to dry off,” she said before disappearing into another room.

Left alone with Matt, I couldn't help but feel a pang of nervousness creeping over me. What if he refused to help me? What if my plan to get to the party and see Tristan up close fell apart before it even began?

Mary Lou returned with a fluffy towel, and with a grateful smile, I accepted it, quickly drying myself off as best as I could. Matt gestured for me to follow him, we made our way to the cozy living room, where the soft glow of lamps cast a warm, inviting ambiance.

As we settled onto the comfortable couch, I couldn't shake the nervous flutter in my stomach. Matt leaned back, his expression curious yet attentive. “So, spill it,” he prompted, his eyes fixed on mine.

“okay so I need your help.” I said meeting his gaze

he smiled “and why would I help you?”

“i have an offer for you.” I said clearing my throat “you will get full access to the parking spot for the duration of our deal.”

he looked back at me with a shocked expression “your giving me THE parking spot?”

I sat back and nodded.

“Deal.”

“What? You don't even know what I want you to do yet.”

“Whatever it takes, I'll do it.”

“Okay, but you have to swear that you won’t tell anyone or give up halfway. If you do, the deal is off.”

“I swear. Now, tell me.”

I looked at something other than his face. “I want to get close with Tristan.”

“And you want me to help with that how?”

“Well, since he's going to the party, I was hoping you could take me with you, so I could talk to him.”

He nodded. “So you want to get with Tristan, and you want me to take you with me to the party so you can get him to like you?” he said, scanning my face.

“Pretty much.”

“Isn’t he interested in Lacy?”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry about that.”

He smiled. “How scandalous of you, Buxbaum.”

“Shut up.” I said smiling back "Alright, so here's the plan," leaning in closer to Matt. "You'll invite me to the party as your plus one, and once we're there, you'll introduce me to Tristan. From there, I'll work my magic."

Matt raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Your magic, huh? Should I be worried?"

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but laugh. "Just trust me, okay? I'll handle it."

After exchanging numbers to discuss Tristan after, we agreed that he would pick me up at 7.

"Alright, you've got yourself a deal."

ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ɪᴛ! ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ʟᴀᴜɴᴀ

[justzawe]

Zawe Ashton reveals she got into the 'best shape' of her life in The Marvels but had to reshoot the film after becoming pregnant

Zawe Ashton has revealed she got into 'the best shape' of her life while filming The Marvels but ended up having to reshoot the film after becoming pregnant.

The actress, 39, portrays the warrior Dar-Benn in the film opposite stars, Brie Larson, Teyonah Parris and Iman Vellani.

Zawe, who admitted to being 'traumatized' from working in Hollywood, felt the grueling training regime required for the blockbuster 'empowered' her.

Speaking at the Bazaar At Work Summitt 2023, she said: 'There was this opportunity for me to get in the best shape in my life [with The Marvels] which I really hadn't been in – getting fit and in shape, but strong and eating well, was a massive part of this journey for me. 

'And then the process of learning stunts and fighting is probably one of the most empowering things that I've ever done.'

Zawe welcomed her first child with her partner Tom Hiddleston last October, with the pregnancy interfering with the shoot.

She said: 'I thought the film was finished, and I got pregnant and had my baby. And then they told me to come back and reshoot basically the whole movie. 

'That, to me, has been the biggest journey with this movie: my physical wellness, my ability to endure, to mentally switch back into that place, postpartum, and come back, and try and kick some ass again. That's really what the landmark of the film is to me now.'

Zawe also spoke about working in the film industry as a young actress and how there were not many measures in place to protect performers from exploitation.

She said: 'I'm probably deeply traumatised! I was working at a point in our industry that is so different from industry that we are working on making for ourselves now. There were no safety protocols. 

'There were no conscious ways that we were thinking about protecting young women. I sort of wipe my brow sometimes, thinking: 'Wow, I actually emerged quite unscathed.' 

'There are so many different ways that we're thinking consciously about protecting the people who are working in front of and behind the camera now.' 

Zawe elaborated on sexism in the industry, saying she felt 'fatigued' from spending so much time worried about her looks.

She said: 'I realised that I'd spent nearly 30 years as an actor, but I'd also sort of spent 30 years performing as a woman, and I felt suddenly so tired.'

'That kind of patriarchal eye, that just gazes on you since birth, it suddenly felt really like that had depleted me in a very deep way.'

'I was suddenly hit with this fatigue, where I didn't want to think about my face, or about my hair and my looks. I didn't want to think about how I could keep presenting myself for a camera or a lens that basically represents this very, very problematic gaze.'

'Where do we draw the line? This is all part of the same spectrum. If you're not seeing women's humanity, if you're not seeing a full human life when you're thinking about the ways that you're putting these kinds of [character breakdown] descriptions together, then the extreme end of the spectrum is you're not valuing women, and that's a much bigger conversation than my industry.'

The actress, who was born to a Ugandan mother and an English father, also spoke about representation on screen.

She said: 'When I starred in period drama, Mr. Malcom's List, there was suddenly this healing moment. I had never ever seen any actor who looked like me invited to the table to perform these entertainment pieces. 

'I hadn't known necessarily that I was hurting so much, until I saw that representation happen, and the success of it take everyone by storm.'

'Growing up as a young biracial girl in Hackney, I was really drawn to the left-field, drawn to the alternative. And part of the bullying I encountered in my teens was because of that. 

'There weren't really any people of colour who were representing this alternative landscape. When I got the part of Vod in Fresh Meat, I thought: 'This is now my opportunity to be that for someone else who didn't maybe have it.' 

'I was willing to do whatever it took to make that character as edgy and authentic as I felt she could be, so that it would invite that person who is not seeing that kind of representation on screen, to really feel seen.'

 Zawe, who has not revealed the name or sex of her child, told how she feels like she is 'growing up' with her baby.

She said: 'The most surprising thing for me has been how quiet I feel like I've gone in motherhood.'

'Right now, it's been really about collecting women's stories. For some reason, we don't value ageing in our society. And there are women who have given me nuggets of wisdom that I literally could not live without. And they are all over the age of 60.

'Why we're not opening a platform and listening to women who have actually lived life is crazy to me. I'm a new mum. I know so little. I'm growing with my child… the child is going to teach you and lead you if you're open to it, and that's the moment to enjoy so much.'

(x)

[percheduphere]

How do you think Mobius will live his life in the timeline? Many theorize that something happens to Don and Mobius takes his identity so his sons live with a father. I prefer that Mobius reflects on his old life, realizes he can’t live it, and creates his own life.

Oh, boy, Anon. I have a lot of fanfic ideas for this, but let's get into the meta-analysis side of this before we get into the rabbit hole that is my washer-dryer machine of an imagination.

Mobius is not doing well. He is going through the stages of grief. I've written an extensive meta here regarding the darker aspects of his character and how he's at risk by the end of the series. I also wrote a brief meta here regarding how his grief might manifest.

With this in mind, I actively HATE the idea of Mobius spiraling to the point he becomes "corrupted". I don't what Michael Waldron did to Wanda. I guess you could make the argument that it would be interesting to see a man emotionally unravel in such a way, but I hold Mobius's unshakable kindness dear in my heart. I don't ever want him to lose it because it is essentially his superpower.

[Sidebar: comics canon House of M notwithstanding; Marvel and DC comics canon are consistently horrible in their characterization of exceptionally powerful women: Wanda Maximoff Jean Grey/Phoenix; Carol Danvers/then Ms. Marvel; Rogue; on and on; I'll throw Sylvie in here, too, because why not, it's true.]

I see Mobius mourning Loki for two years. Two years because, statistically, that is how long it takes for most people who've lost an intimate loved one to get out of clinical depression. During this period, I see him losing weight, wandering aimlessly between timelines, trying and failing to copy Don's life by taking a job that involves jet skis or aquatics more generally. B-15 would make a point to check-in on him and know he's not doing well, but Mobius, because he does not want anyone to worry about him, because he is used to being the person who keeps people together, insists he's fine.

MY FANFIC IDEA

I see Mobius eventually recognizing he needs a therapist, which he will find ironic and deeply troubling, but he's not about to give up on trying to live for Loki's sake.

And in his conversations with his therapist and B-15, Mobius will come to realize that he can still use his key strengths outside of the TVA: analyzing people, deconstructing what makes them tick, using that knowledge to help the other person, similar to a therapist but more active in support. Mobius is very well-suited to become a social worker of troubled and at-risk youth. I think he should pursue this and ...

Mobius will choose a branched timeline in the late 90s/early 2000s. There, he will meet a war-orphaned, thirteen year-old Wanda Maximoff, who is friendless and struggling to understand the nature of her powers (magic). Mobius is drawn to her right away. It takes time, but he eventually gains Wanda's trust.

Red. Red is Wanda's color. It's in her hair, her cheeks, her magic. Now that red reaches Wanda's eyes, filled with tears her anger stoppers. "You saw what I can do. What I did. The other kids call me a 'witch' 'cause that's what I am. A witch. A monster."

Mobius sits next to the young girl on the stoop. The sun winks at them through the green tree boughs, and he wonders, for a moment, what Loki might think of him now, finding solace in a child who needs solace.

"That's not true. You're not a monster, but I tell you what: witches are pretty cool." Mobius grins, knocking his knee against hers. The fabric of his slacks shakes, still too loose. "Y'know, my best friend has magic just like yours, except it's green instead of red."

Wanda peers at him, hopeful and dubious. "Really?"

"Yup. He had a tough time, too, being different." He leans closer to her, sharing a secret. "But things got better. You should've seen him. He was--is-- magnificent. You're magnificent."

Her lips purse into an embarrassed smile. She drops her head, thoughtful, and tucks her hands beneath the fold of her knees. "Where is he now? Do you still see him?"

The question is innocent, as all things are with a soul of thirteen. She doesn't mean to hurt him. Mobius knows this. So he takes the thorn of her words and presses it against his ribcage. His throat works. The ache comes and goes but never fully abates.

"Well," Mobius sighs. "He had to move on. Life is like that sometimes. People come and go. Things happen and ... there's not much you can do except hope they're okay. That they're happy and safe."

He can't look up. Not at the tree or the sun. He worries if he does, he'll start to cry, and that won't do when this girl who reminds him so much of his wily god has finally cracked a smile.

"C'mon," he says, rising to his feet. "Let's get you something to eat."

"McDonald's?" Wanda brightens.

Another thorn. He takes that one too and thinks of pretty roses.

"Whatever you want, kiddo."

[oneluckygoose]

O'Knutzy Week Day 5

Yooo, we've made it to the end!! (Of creating at least, still two more days left but I didn't have time to make anything. Also still written in advance to the actual week.)

Anyway, I figured for the last day I would share the songs on my O'Knutzy playlist I listened to while writing my stories (+ the characters they remind me of and why they did)

Credit of this beautiful thing we call Logan Tremblay, Finn O'Hara, and Leo Knut to @lumosinlove , and thanks to @oknutzy-week-2024 for also just being amazing.

Anyway songs under cut :)

shhh its a shit ton of Hozier

Line Without a Hook, Rick Montgomery - Ok look at me and tell me this isn't Harvard Era Finnlo. "You can hold my hand if no ones there" LOGAN! "All my emotions feel like explosions when you're around" FINN! Nuff' said.

Wish You Were Sober, Conan Gray - I only need one word to explain this one. Harvard. Next!

Sun, Two Door Cinema Club - Mainly reminds me of Finn, especially when he's in Gryfindor and Logan's still at Harvard. But also like listen to it, literally the entire song is just them.

Young In America, Barnes Courtney - Just gives me that Harvard vibe yk, Finn and Logan being best friends and then being drawn apart, it just fits them Imo. ALSO THAT LAST FUCKING VERSE IS SO UGH FINNLO (Also happens to be my favorite song rn so that may be part of it but like it's still them)

Running In Circles, Dead Poet Society - LOGAN. Specifically Logan his last year of college without Finn and him being in pain. Him having to hide it as well, and pretending he's not completely fucking devastated without Finn. Just the angst.

Atlantis, Seafret - Makes me think of Logan being scared and constantly telling Finn they can't and pretty much everything after the night Finn leaves Harvard. The feeling of helpless and inevitable heartbreak is very in line with that period of time.

Mind Over Matter, Young The Giant - Very Logan coded. Kinda how I imagined him with Leo and Finn before they got together. Also, "Cause' I'm a young man built to fall" is just something I think Logan would have told himself on why he couldn't tell Finn or Leo.

To Someone From A Warm Climate, Hozier - Also very Logan coded, I imagine him just quietly singing this into Leo's ear in the dark of a winter night, which are cold in Gryfindor which Leo is NOT used to.

Francesca, Hozier - Ahem, "the entire fucking song". Finn. This song = Finn. More exactly reflecting back on all of the hurt he and Logan went through together and knowing he would do it again. And again. And again. Especially when he's a Lion and O'Knutzy isn't a thing yet.

Home, Good Neighbours - Leo's homesickness, Logan missing Gryfindor in NY, Finn wanting to go back to Logan at Harvard. All of it. Though it did mainly make me think of Leo going home for a little bit after the Rangers knocked the Lions out of the playoffs in Vaincre.

TIMEZONE, Maneskin - Let me take you back to a lovely place called Logan fully ditching all-stars to see Leo and Finn in Vaincre. If this isn't the most Logan song I've ever heard, I don't even know. Also could be Logan in NY, or even Finn in Gryf while Logan's at Harvard.

Heaven Must Have Sent You, The Elgins - Leo. Just the way Leo tends to think about Finn and Logan, and he's definitely played this while dinner was cooking and the three of them danced in the kitchen.

Can't Take My Eye's Off You, Frankie Valli - Leo sings this at karaoke night constantly and you cannot tell me otherwise. Anyway, self explanatory, moving on.

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene, Hozier - Finn and the way he thinks of Leo and Logan. I think that's enough.

From Eden, Hozier - Yk, I don't actually have a clear explination for this one, it just gives me those O'Knutzy vibes.

Somewhere Only We Know, Keane - Reminds me of Harvard and the Roof, but also just a very O'Knutzy and FinLo song that makes me want to reread Coast to Coast.

Ditmas, Mumford and Sons - FinLo falling apart after Finn graduates. The angst is very appropriate and obviously it doesn't last but this is how I imagine it was back then.

i wanna be your girlfriend, girl in red - Very self explanatory, we don't need to dwell on it.

Figure You Out, VOILA - Hey remember when Logan freaked out when he though Finn got a girlfriend? This, it's this. Every time one little romantic interest and Logan just turns into the embodiment of this song.

Mercy, Shawn Mendes - Ok yes Ik it's basic but this is totally how Finn felt when him and Logan were doing their little dance around each other and it was absolutely Killing Finn.

Thinking Out Loud, Ed Sheeran - OK I GET IT ALSO BASIC but it does genuinely make me think of an older O'Knutzy, one that will love each other for a very long time and will love each other no matter what happens and how they change.

High, Stephen Sanchez - Sorry this song is so Finn being fucking horny over Logan in college and thinking about all the things he would do to him given the chance.

Beautiful Things, Benson Boone - SHUT UP I KNOW BASIC, but anyway this is Logan thinking over the last few years and how things have gotten so much better but also being so so so scared he could lose it all in a moment. His beautiful things are Finn and Leo.

Supernatural, Barnes Courtney - Finn constantly at Harvard. Logan and him are dancing around each other and Logan keeps fucking touching him and being so close and it drives him insane. And just a very Harvard Era song.

Like Real People Do, Hozier - Not Finn saying "can we for once not kiss while we're both crying" and that's literally just this song in different words, ok?

If She's Anything Like Me, MALINDA - Logan with every single girl Finn talks about or even looks at. Finn is genuinely the most perfect and lovable person in his eyes, so why wouldn't everyone else love him, too? And just because he doesn't have the guts to say it, that doesn't mean they won't.

Heat Waves, Glass Animals - Ok ok ok ok ok hear me out..... Actually I don't have much to defend this so Ig it's just all of them staying up late at night just thinking about each other.

Home, Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros - A very FinLo coded song, especially with the "Jade...Alexander....I was falling deep deep deeply in love with you," part because tell me that didn't happen. Also Leo works in here too because home is with his boys and their home will always be with him, too.

When He Sees Me, Kimiko Glenn & co - Definitely what Leo came into his Rookie season thinking. Especially once he met Finn and Logan knowing he'd be head over heels if he wasn't careful. Just very Leo as well because ofc he's fucking defensive of his heart right after Jack bitchass Archer.

She, Foxy Venus - Guess, take a wild guess. Did you guess Harvard Era Finlo because yeah, that's it. More specifically I think Finn and trying to get Logan out of his mind and move on and that not working whatsoever.

Can't Help Falling in Love, Elvis Presley - This took me an embarrassingly long time to add but yeah Very much Leo with his boys and then Logan and Finn with Leo.

Can't Pretend, Tom Odell - Also took me an embarrassingly long time to add considering it HAS THE SAME TITLE AS ONE OF MY FUCKING WORKS but we don't need to dwell on it. Anyway, FinLo again, especially canonically when they have their little talks about loving each other and not admitting it.

This playlist will probably grow but y'all ain't getting my Spotify so it's just a list rn, might add onto it, idk. Anyway, hope this was suitable for a final O'Knutzy week post and figured it be fun to show you what I was listening to while writing all this. Genuinely I had To Someone From A Warm Climate on repeat while writing the first half of With a Straight Face because if y'all we're confused about the vibe, it's that (especially the beginning). Also Supernatural was on repeat for the first part of When We Can't Pretend (Oh and High was on repeat during the Kiss in the second half, lol).

Ok peace I genuinely can't wait to see everything when I get back in August!