#this was genuine fun thanks for taking me down memory lane

[incorrectelswordquotes]

Do you remember when the job progression quests had dialogue cutscenes and difficult quests? Each town had its own gear and you'd have to drop blue-background items to upgrade it. And it was character-specific too. Ice statues had to be crafted, and the ingredients would just pile up in your inventory. There was Unique equipment for every region you had a chance to drop after a boss battle, and it'd be shown in the chat. Plant Overlord's accessory was the top trending thing. Rena was blonde and did a flip when she double jumped. The first field introduced was the one between Hamel and Velder. The level cap was 40 and it was *hard* to get there.

I sure don't miss a lot of this stuff, but looking back, it feels like a wholly different game.

i played around when the game was still like this for the most part, except the level cap at the time was 70? and then over time it jumped to 90 but my middle-school/high-school ass couldn't keep up. actually, i remember seeing the new UI the game has for the health bars and that was already enough to throw me off. not that it looks bad, but i remember seeing this UI for the longest time:

vs this:

like as much as i miss the one i got acquainted with, this new one is a lot simpler and cleaner? yet it retains that cartoony vibe with the slanted bars so thats neat. and then there's THIS:

i'll admit i havent played during this era but man this looks busy af. it was simple yea, but something feels off about it. like i love the look here too but it kinda clashes colors-wise. there's not too much of a difference between the original UI and the one after it but i could tell it needed slimming down.

while i was gone i also learned that the previous privately-hosted server VoidEls was shut down but was eventually replaced by another, which is fair enough i guess.

"Each town had its own gear and you'd have to drop blue-background items to upgrade it. And it was character-specific too."

this was both cool and annoying, for me personally at least. it's cool in that every town having gear gave you a way to progress before getting even stronger gear. sort of like a jumping-off point for every town you got to as they handed you their own version of stuff you could use. and you could emulate their aesthetic by wearing their gear. the annoying part is that constantly switching gear means item management is necessary to prevent your inventory from maxing out, and not every item looked good on you. if you didn't have skins? tough luck. (my memory might be wrong here so please correct me if i messed something up)

"...job progression quests had dialogue cutscenes and difficult quests?"

THEY GOT RID OF THOSE!? maybe im jaded but as a writer, i liked seeing the player-characters' personal struggle as they progressed through a job-specific mission. those short cutscenes let us see what they're really like. even if some of the requirements really were trash. i still remember spamming the same dungeon over and over hoping for a quest drop (or multiple) so i can move on. but after hearing the story was consolidated to be one singular, linear path regardless of who you played, maybe they streamlined the job class progression system too?

update: yea it seems you still have to spam dungeons to upgrade to Master Class but it looks less tedious than before for previous class ranks.

"Plant Overlord's accessory was the top trending thing."

boss accessories were the bane of my existence so this makes sense. it seems like it's unobtainable, as many overworld zones and dungeons have since been removed based on what i just looked up

im assuming Plant Overlord isn't fightable anymore or only shows up in some elite zone now so rip

"Rena was blonde and did a flip when she double jumped."

i didn't know this. in fact when i checked her wiki page, the change was because her hair wasn't green enough despite her class art showing her as having green-hued hair.

speaking of the wiki,

holy fucking shit thats a lot of classes

[roguephenon]

I loved the finale and can't wait for the conclusion but had a question: so is the boogeyman the reason Father and his family are evil like a curse?

there is a backlog of asks and things, but due to a cold and just a lot of emotional stuff going on, I feel the need to clarify something that I normally like to just let my writing speak for itself, so genuinely thank you for this question anon haha: tldr: the short answer is No. the technical answer is .05% kinda, and 99.95% NO. (we love hyperbole here lol)

spoilers for CR's finale and looooooong Father below:

The Eldritch Boogeyman from Beyond the Deep Dark is a surface-level, silly, overexaggerated way of explaining where Father's powers come from and the overall true ultimate enemy of the KND and "kids" across existence (ala in spirit of how the show takes issues kids face to the extreme). Still, narratively, it's meant to be a metaphor for something deeper: the fear and despair that exists inside us all and can overwhelm us if we succumb to it.

Father is a villain, one I enjoy writing and having fun with when I'm doing something cartoonishly fun, but he is still a villain whose actions I never excuse or even fully redeem because of what he represents on a fundamental level: a man who willingly perpetuates a cycle of hatred and abuse that existed long before him.

Benedict was the son of Grandfather, someone you could argue is worse. He was clearly abused and had a terrible childhood, one that continued probably even after Grandfather was initially defeated. Monty was obviously the "favorite" child (more on the horrible psychological ramifications of that on Ben and even Monty in some other post).

But trauma only explains behavior. It does not excuse it.

There's always a choice, and we all have it. We all have that moment or even moments when we can choose what kind of person we want to be. And despite all the chances and outs he was given, Father chose anger. He chose cruelty. Even worse, he chose to commit the ultimate evil. That choice we all have? He decided to use his power and authority to rob children of ever having that chance to choose.

He did that the exact moment he forced Sector Z to become his Delightful Children from Down the Lane. An excerpt from Cold Reception chapter 28: : ...Best of all, Benedict saw that their dark, rebellious eyes now shone a pale and empty shade of blue, devoid of all desire for resistance and childish play. Sector Z was more delightful than Benedict had even hoped to dream. The blown fuse in the chamber hadn't ruined his experiment at all—in fact, it had enhanced it, at least eleventy-billionfold!

It hadn't gone horribly wrong.

It had gone horribly RIGHT!

Benedict couldn't help himself: he laughed. His whole body shook with it, and unbeknownst to him, a dark silhouette loomed over his newest creations, a black shadow that threw its head back with howls of laughter that spawned fire in a wall behind him.

"Yes," he hissed, throwing up his hands in savage joy. "I did it! I DID IT! They're perfect! These children are downright DELIGHTFUL!"

The children took a collective step back.

"Pardon us, kind sir," they all said, with trembling politeness, "but we can't seem to recall what's going on. Where are we? Who are we? All of our memories are..."

Benedict's laughter slowly died down, tapering off into a breathless chuckle. "Of course, of course!" he said grandiosely, stepping menacingly toward the children, not heeding the way they cringed back from him. "How very rude of me to forget! You five are MY children, and I am your beloved parent. You live here, with me, in our delightful little manor. You're the most smartest, perfectest little children in the whole wide world, and you hate those other misbehaving kids for their DISGUSTING immaturity—especially the Kids Next Door!"

"Kids...Next Door?" the children asked, blinking their pale blue eyes in confusion. "Who are they?"

"A group of vile, despicable children," Benedict hissed, looming over them. "Horrible little brats who do nothing except misbehave and create trouble for upstanding adults like me! Can't you see how awful that is?"

As the last words were shouted, Benedict didn't notice flames rising wildly behind him. The children jumped in place, startled, and nodded quickly. They no longer looked quite so frightened of him, more contemplative over his words.

"It IS awful!" they said together, looking alarmed. "We hate children who make trouble for adults! They're the most stupid, rotten pests in the whole world! In fact...such degenerates must be annihilated."

Why, that was what he was about to say!

"Yes, they certainly do," he purred, the flames dying around him. Had it always been this toasty in here? Must be the crackling machine. He extended an arm toward the bewildered children and took their five small hands in one of his, leading them away. "But that will come another day. We must attend to other manners, like cleaning up this mess YOU made. Then? Then we can spend the night scheming how you'll destroy those little nuisances so I never have to worry about them. Ever again."

"Yes," the children chorused in unison, dark smiles spreading across their angelic faces as they looked up at him. "We would like that very much. Those K-N-Doofuses don't stand a chance against the likes of US!"

Benedict smirked. "That's exactly right, children. They are inferior to you in every way possible. You? You're excellent. You're perfect! You're my exceptionally delightful children." He then smiled. "Now, before you clean up this mess, who wants ice cream!?"

They all gasped, licking their lips. "With extra jimmies?"

Benedict grinned. "Extra extra jimmies."

"We cannot wait!"

They then did something he wasn't entirely expecting.

"Thank you," they said, breathing easier as they hugged his waist. They smiled, obliviously nuzzling into his pants. "We love you, Father."

Benedict's heart skipped a beat.

They…they loved him?

The shadow from before crawled off the walls, slithering around his feet.

Someone…actually loved him. Unconditionally?

No take-backsies?

"We love you, Father."

A silhouette enveloped him, and he EMBRACED it. Hardly noticed the sting.

"Yes, children," he said in a daze, his hands gingerly coming to wrap around them. As the shadow covered his face, his eyes glowed a terrible yellow gleam. "I'm…your Father." :

The "boogeyman" was there. It had always been there. But when Ben made that choice? That's when he let it in. Benedict made a choice at that moment, and that's when he became Father.

And even after that? He was given a chance to be better. Monty offered him a hand to try and do what he should've done years before and offered to be there with him when he finally stood up to their Pappy. And when push came to shove, Father decided it wasn't worth the effort.

And do you remember that moment? When he packs it in against Grandfather in ZERO? The frustration and ire you felt when he robbed us of the incredible moment to clap back at his terrible dad? That was the joke, and that was the point.

At that moment, Father had a choice to use all his power to help clean up the mess he made and stand up to an oppressor...and decided, whatever. He's just gonna go eat ice cream and let someone ELSE deal with it.

That's why I write Father the way I do 99% of the time. He had a choice to try to be better, but he didn't want to put in the work to do it. He just wants to be destructive and angry at a world that didn't treat him fairly and directs that fiery anger at innocents who don't deserve it.

The actual "Boogeyman" - the REAL villain of Cold Reception is generational trauma and how it can turn us into the monsters that terrify us as children. How, like Father, we can be victims of it. The thing with Father is that he was fortunate enough to survive into adulthood. But instead of being a genuine mature adult and learning to protect kids from the Boogeyman, he decided it was easier to become one.

I pity Father because his story is a tragedy and a cautionary tale if you read into as much as I do, I guess.

"But Phenon, how come you don't put in the work to make sure his story doesn't end in tragedy? Why not try and give it a happy ending?"

I do and always will believe in the happy ending, even if I don't live to see it. But I also believe it needs to be earned. Maybe one day I'll be inspired to do the creative heavy lifting to do some fic where Father "earns" his.

...but the heart of this fic and this entire series is kids. As an adult, I feel compelled to write and let them earn the happy ending Father and those like him try to rob them of. And I embrace that compulsion 110%.

Also, that man was ready to let his "kids" stay turned into sheep. If that's the kind of parental "love" he's offering, he can keep all that shit lol.

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Now That's What I Call Music! 8 2001 R&B / Pop / Teen Pop / Alternative Rock / Pop-Punk / Post-Grunge

Welp, folks, it looks like we're nearing the end of the earliest days for this beloved flagship series that's known for constantly delivering reproductions of the day's biggest pop hits, but I still have a couple more of these albums in my queue to enjoyably sift through. And just like the other seven installments that precede this one, Now That's What I Call Music! 8 also makes for a pretty great trip down commercial radio memory lane as well 😍.

But before we dive right on into it, how about we have some nostalgic fun with the ad for this release first? See, If you had placed an order for Now 8 by credit card or with check-debit, you'd also receive a free limited edition collector's box that you could store all of your other Now CDs in too! Wow! How considerate! Thanks Now! 😎💖

But we actually start off on a few somber notes here... 😔

Now 8 was the first dispatch from the main series to be released after 9/11, and so, I feel like the inclusion of its final track, U2's "Walk On," which never even made it onto Billboard's Hot 100 chart, was done solely in order to try to console an American psyche that had been deeply wounded at that time. "Walk On" was released as a single in February of 2001, and was actually about the plight of Burmese peace activist Aung San Suu Kyi—who, years later, would despicably do nothing as Myanmar's head of state to address the genocide of Rohingya Muslims that her own military was perpetrating—but in the immediate aftermath of 9/11, the song found itself resonating with a lot of Americans, serving a sudden and newfound purpose as an anthem of perseverance for them.

And that's pretty much undoubtedly why Now chose this song to close out the album. Had 9/11 not happened, this comp's last track would've probably been a song that had actually charted on the Hot 100. But because this album was slated to release in November of '01, the Now brass probably thought it best to end with a song that could acknowledge that then-current moment of anguish and turmoil, rather than awkwardly and tone-deafly just loading up their CD with fun pop hits from the summer that had just passed.

But less than three weeks before 9/11, R&B star Aaliyah had also tragically passed in a plane crash after filming the video for her beautifully soft and sensual, final single, "Rock the Boat" too. So Now not only included that song on this release, but they dedicated the whole album to Aaliyah's memory, and also donated part of the proceeds from the triple-platinum seller to her memorial fund as well.

And last with the sadness, rest in peace to the great Steve Harwell. I absolutely despised your band's cover of The Monkees' "I'm a Believer" when I first heard it (which appears on this album), but I still genuinely dug your work more than most are willing to admit, and really also loved the critique you had about the commodification of social movements in "Walkin' On the Sun," which is something that many people probably overlooked because they had nothing nice to say about your band that, unfortunately, became a Shrek meme. At the end of the day, Smash Mouth made a bunch of fun music, man 😞.

OK, on to the rest of this album...

So, the album cover for this release says it comes with 20 chart-topping hits, but in reality, only three of these were actually Hot 100 #1s. There's Destiny's Child's "Bootylicious," which, to go with their Survivor album's theme, intended to use the opening guitar stutter from "Eye of the Tiger"—by the band *Survivor*—but had to settle for Stevie Nicks' "Edge of Seventeen" instead; Usher's "U Got It Bad" ballad; and Joe's "Stutter," which isn't actually the most famous version of the song, but is the "Double Take Remix" instead, that was done by Allen "Allstar" Gordon Jr., and sampled both the iconic west coast alternative rap classic, "Passin' Me By," by The Pharcyde, as well as the song that that song itself sampled, Quincy Jones' "Summer in the City." And it also features now-canceled rapper Mystikal, which represents his third overall appearance in this series.

And speaking of remixes and samples, the famous Murder Inc. remix of J.Lo's "I'm Real," featuring Ja Rule, doesn't appear on here, but instead, it's her underappreciated and poppier original version that sounds nothing like the remix, and samples from classic Japanese electronic group Yellow Magic Orchestra's digi-chirping "Firecracker," which ends up naturally giving the tune a sweet 80s throwback kinda vibe.

Other songs worth mentioning are the brilliantly produced and super light and smooth Janet Jackson jam, "Someone to Call My Lover," which sampled from folk duo America's "Ventura Highway;" and a terrific tune that was actually originally released in 1998, but rose to US fame because of its inclusion in a 2001 Mitsubishi ad: "Start the Commotion," by UK duo The Wiseguys. That one's very much in that Fatboy Slim-helmed UK big beat vein; gotta love the blaring and swingin' sampled horns on it! 🤩

And there's a solid handful of other songs on this CD that I could devote some space to as well, but I think this post here is already long enough as it is.

So, another terrific nostalgia rush to be had in this trip all the way back to 2001. And I only have one more of these Now comps left in my queue, but I think I'm gonna save it for later.

Highlights:

Destiny's Child - "Bootylicious" 'N Sync - "Pop" Jennifer Lopez - "I'm Real" Joe feat. Mystikal - "Stutter (Double Take Remix)" Janet Jackson - "Someone to Call My Lover" Christina Milian - "AM to PM" Aaliyah - "Rock the Boat" Usher - "U Got It Bad" Gorillaz - "Clint Eastwood" The Wiseguys feat. Greg Nice - "Start the Commotion" Sum 41 - "Fat Lip" Blink-182 - "The Rock Show" Fuel - "Bad Day" U2 - "Walk On"

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Ok, so SOOO much to unpack here, brace yourself. I posted prior on as anonymous 🫥 to get some quick info out, but now I’m really hankering in to unpack.

Ok, so I get it, Gojo definitely has valid reasons to suspect Rinko, but also…

I agree with anonymous (ง'̀-'́)ง, I was ready to fight Gojo (and everyone else who’s an ass to Rinko). Congrats, you have turned a group of Gojo simps to an army of Rinko protectors 🛡️

Anywho, back on point here. Gojo suspecting Rinko was valid because literally everything pointed to her, and while they do communicate to each other often, Rinko has proven to not always share everything because of either Clan shit, or I suspect to keep the barrier of friends with benefits with Gojo.

That said, like, Gojo literally out here claiming she’s his “You’re mine”, like it’s nothing. It’s definitely something, and I get Rinko not addressing in the moment, but she has to question it (Right? 👀)

Also, thank you for representing her feels so eloquently 🥹 as someone who’s recently discovered I have PTSD and panic attacks, and trying to recover from, you handled her own feelings so well! Sometimes reading those experiences can make it hard for myself, but I was able to get through it. So thanks 😊

Well hello! I will also address your anon message in this, so everything is below the cut!! 😊😊

If you're new and HAVEN'T already, you can read Another Level on AO3 :)

I'm pasting your Anon message:

I’m so very impressed with the recent writing of Rinko and Gojo’s life. The way you handled Rinko’s breakdown was true to form of the panic instilling, the body dissociating - all scarily accurate. Literally was screaming at Gojo the entire time to help her breathe by breathing. From my own experience with panic attacks, having a loved one help you through it works wonders (even if you may not want it, you need it). Rinko’s story has found a special place in my heart, and you do her justice in expressing it in your writing. Truly impressed

OKAY.

I will first address the panic attacks and how accurately they are written:

I have had panic attacks for as long as I can remember. I have also had PTSD from past relationships. I recently discovered that I am also autistic 🙃 and 'autistic meltdowns' are often mistaken for panic attacks in undiagnosed people. So, there's that.

I have written about my mental health for a long, long time. Many years. If you'd like, I can share those, but I don't want to make you feel pressured to read them! (also don't want to out myself for how much of myself I've accidentally written into Rinko 👀)

AN ARMY OF RINKO PROTECTORS YES.

I can tell you who will be LEADING that army:

Don't you HURT HIS ADOPTIVE MOM COUSIN.

Gojo staking his claim and what Rinko thinks:

I'm gonna be real with you. Rinko thought almost nothing of him saying that for two reasons: 1) He was drunk. 2) She straight up thinks he is the dumbest man alive.

Rinko genuinely thinks that Gojo is just stupid and doesn't realize that things he says and does send messages of more than being friends.

Why, you ask? Let's take a lil trip down memory lane:

We'll start with this bit from Let Me Know You:

“Friends don’t typically do this,” she said quietly, a small laugh escaping when he pouted. “Unless you’re going to tell me this is how all of your friendships are? Because that’d be very interesting.” That made him laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners, hand moving to the back of her neck to pull her lips to meet his again. Pressing his tongue into her mouth, his other hand went to her shirt again. “I’ll admit this might not be a conventional friendship,” he murmured, unbuttoning the few buttons she’d managed to fasten earlier. “But that’s what makes it fun. We can have sleepovers-”

Then, I Say "Sayonara":

But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t, tell her mother about her ‘unconventional’ friendship with Gojo Satoru. Not the typical friendship, he would always say as he grinned, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple or forehead. Such a contrast to how he would spend the next few hours taking her apart in every way he could.

AND THEN, FINALLY, New Memories:

“You know,” she said, reluctantly allowing him to pull her along with him again. ��That isn’t exactly how friends-” “Not a typical friendship, baby,” he cut her off. “Now,” he paused, grabbing her by the waist and warping them to her apartment. “Get changed.”

I'm going to write an Author Discussion once we've gotten through (Please) Prove Me Wrong, so that will break down quite a bit and hopefully answer some of your other questions!! 😊😊

Full disclosure: Gojo's POV was never meant to be as big of a deal as it's become, and I am struggling to write it rn 🙃🙃🙃

Thank you for reading and sending these TWO amazing asks 🥹💕

[spynorth]

i know you’re logged out rn but i want to leave a little something for you to log in to (a cat leaving a dead bird at your doorstep, if you will). i’m so glad we got to know each other! you have made the last couple of years so fun both on and off tumblr, and it’s such a breath of fresh air to meet someone so genuine 😭 from when we first started chatting and immediately sending each other inappropriate memes we have gelled so well and i am so proud and happy to count you among my close friends ❤️‍🔥 you are such a force of nature and i can’t wait for our next movie night so we can chat shit and laugh for five hours straight 🏴‍☠️ 🐊 🧅

man this choked me up when i read it and made me go down memory lane and get all nostalgic. I have never laughed at something someone has said to me on this site like I laughed at that ask you sent (domestic bliss, baaaaaby!). I still remember being on the phone and checking my notification and I lost it in the middle of my conversation.. and the way you threw me back a completely well written reply to that stupid bake off starter just sealed the deal for me. I've always found it so easy to write with you and you're one of those people I just *chinhands* at whenever I see something on the dash .. I gotta read it. I can't help myself. That experience of switching from absolute crocodile vs hook crack threads to exploring immortal enemies and the idea of you're my only friend has always been just top-fucking-tier. The life you bring to aegon is astounding and I love talking headcanons and listening to your opinions and thought processes on discord. You're one of those people who take characters so seriously (thank you!!!!!!) but also know how to have a grand ol' time without erasing flaws etc... your talent and passion and creativity have always blown me away and it's so interesting to see how we've gone from what we were a few years ago with writing and become what we are today. I love watching growth. I love watching things develop.

As a person, my dear crocodile, you are one of my favorites and someone I consider one of my closest friends. From that first message of Idk if we're close enough for this, but three years ago (how???)... to the fact that we talk basically every day now, I can't imagine this world without you. You are hilarious, yes, but more importantly you're someone who is so loyal to your friends and you know how to check the fucking source material before you accuse someone of something .. a wild concept on tumblr in the year of 2023. I dunno mate, we have so many memories and it makes my heart go all pitter patter when I think of them. There's no one else I'd rather watch the musical episode of once with or every single shrek with. I'm glad I was able to help you be a little hacker with my hulu and I'm grateful for the way you turned me onto duolingo (but uh. I've been slacking big time lately lmao). Can't wait to go to Shrek World in London together so we can be obnoxious and I can wow you with the Irish accent I've been practicing. In short, my Irish onion, I will love you as long as sinuses exists and as long as salt is a thing and I will never stop giving you daily life updates from my diary. Thanks for understanding that anything and everything under the sun is only ever related to me and mine and supporting me no matter what I do to other people. You're one of my favorite sheeps, mate and there are so many layers to our friendship.

Fuck the [redacted].

[frostedfaves]

Naive (2)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You quickly discover that Wanda is different during the night.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, mental manipulation, smut: oral, fingering, overstimulation, edging, penetration, sex toy use, dom/sub dynamics, biting, slapping(? just a lil)

A/N: no more thoughts except please share your own after reading this! writing this slutty shit kept me sane today so enjoy

Previous part

-

To your surprise and relief that eventually transformed into disappointment, Wanda didn’t make an appearance at all for the rest of the week. You spent each shift for the next few days anticipating her return, watching for her over the heads of shorter customers and through the shelves on your way in and out of the bookstore. You were starting to think that she was simply passing through your town and you were just lucky enough to cross paths with her.

“Hi there.”

“Wanda!” you yelp after looking up from your phone hidden behind the register, clearing your throat as you tuck it in your pocket. “Um, can I get you anything?”

“I’m surprised you remember me,” she laughs. “I’m sure you get hundreds of customers a day.” 

“You left a lasting impression,” you admit before you can stop yourself and she grins.

“So did you.”

There’s a brief pause before she adds your name to the end of her sentence with a flicker of something unrecognizable in her eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. Not knowing what else to do with yourself, you go to ask again what she’d like in the same moment she places a bottle of water on the counter.

“I got a really good recommendation the last time I was here, and I’d like to have it again.”

“Coming right up.” You ring up the exact same order, letting your gaze wander to her hand again as she inserts her card. “I never got to tell you how much I love your rings.”

“What?” She lifts her hand after removing her card and chuckles breathlessly. “Oh yeah, thanks.”

A frown appears on your features when you notice the way she grabs the receipt from you, almost as if she’s actively avoiding brushing fingers with you in the same way she did during her last visit. You’re able to replace the frown with a customer service smile, but you can’t shake the feeling that you experienced rejection before even posing a question. 

“I’ll bring it out to you soon,” you tell her before moving to the glass case, grabbing the food items and frowning again when you find her staring at you from the other side. “Is there something else I can get you?”

“What time do you get off today?” she asks in a rushed fashion.

“What?”

“I mean do you have any plans when your shift is done? I meet people all day long and you’re the first person that I’ve wanted to have a conversation with that lasts longer than a few minutes,” she explains a bit slower. 

“I only have an hour left,” you tell her as you slide her food into the oven. “What did you have in mind?”

“Maybe you could show me what fun things I could get into in this area. I’m a bit further away, Lane County, but I’m starting to enjoy it here more.”

“Well there’s a fair happening on the other side of town, if you don’t mind a long bus ride. I’m guessing you don’t since you live in Lane and you somehow ended up here.”

“Oh, I have a car.” She holds up her car keys with a grin and you laugh.

“Well then…” You pause and look over the counter to see that she’s wearing pants today. “I hope you’re not afraid of rollercoasters.”

-

Aside from the occasional flirting when you have no customers, Wanda waits patiently at the same table as before, standing and joining you the moment you reappear on the other side of the counter without your apron. Her rings are tucked away again, and she dares to brush her knuckles against yours as the two of you leave the bookstore.

“Let me get that for you,” she insists, jogging ahead of you to open the car door and you laugh.

“Is this a date? Should I be nervous right now?” you ask in a joking tone, well aware that you’re genuinely wondering.

“Only if you want it to be.”

You take a deep breath while she crosses to the driver’s side, offering her a casual smile once she’s seated next to you. She denies your request to give her the address, insisting that she’ll be able to follow your directions better instead of admitting that she just wants to hear your voice as much as possible. So you lead her to the expansive fairgrounds on the other side of town, feeling excitement build in your heart the closer you get to your destination.

“This place must hold some memories for you,” Wanda acknowledges your wide grin as she parks.

“No, I just haven’t been in a while,” you admit as you both get out of the car. “Friends are too busy and I try to avoid nighttime bus rides as much as possible.”

“You know, I don’t mind giving you rides at night. I’m well aware that public transportation isn’t the safest form of travel.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that! You live too far.”

“Okay then.” Wanda meets you near the fair entrance and grabs your hand, sliding her fingers between yours. “I won’t give you the chance to ask.”

The two of you are latched onto each other, fingers intertwined the whole night aside from being secured on rides or bathroom trips. You’re walking into the games area, each holding a drink when you suddenly pull Wanda over to a booth. 

“Sorry, I just saw that huge giraffe and wanted to try to win it!” you explain as you release her hand to grab a ticket from your pocket. “Can you hold my drink?”

While your back is turned, Wanda sets both drinks on a nearby table and slips her rings onto her hands, returning just in time for you to finish the game. She hands your drink back to you carefully and reaches out to grab the small stuffed toy you’re offered, brushing her fingers against the attendant’s hand as she did so.

“She wants the giraffe,” she threatens, retreating with a pleased smile when he immediately pulls it down for you. “Thank you!”

“How did you do that?!” you question as she hands it to you. “I mean thank you so much, but wow. I’ve never seen anyone give in so easily.”

“I’ve spent most of my life figuring out how to get what I want, love,” she tells you in a low tone, and a shiver travels down your spine when her hand makes contact with your hip. “What do you think about getting out of here?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you agree quietly, starting to feel as if every other thought that enters your mind is incoherent. “Where do you want to go?”

“I’m taking you home.”

You assume she followed up on her word because you find yourself outside of your apartment building, and her hand closes around your wrist before you can leave the car.

“I had a lot of fun with you tonight.”

“Me too,” you admit, unable to prevent the smile that appears. “I guess this means you’re interested in more than friendship with me.”

“Is it that obvious?” She chuckles quietly as she raises her free hand to your jaw, watching you silently fall against her palm. “I’d bet you’d be a wonderful partner. My best girl.”

“I’d be so good for you,” you reply without hesitation, beginning to feel fuzzy and warm the longer she holds onto you.

“Yeah?” 

Your wrist drops onto the center console as the hand that isn’t resting on your jaw slips under the elastic waistband of your pants and underwear. You gasp when her fingertips begin teasing your entrance, bucking your hips slightly when you feel pressure on your clit.

“Wanda--”

“Shh, it’s okay, darling,” she assures you, slipping her thumb between your parted lips and grinning when they close around her without a fight. “I want to see how good you can be for me.”

She uses her middle finger to stroke slowly over your clit, eyes flickering over to your hips occasionally as they follow her movements. Her thumb slips further into your mouth, and your eyes flutter open when her ring touches your lips and a new sensation follows.

“You’re fine,” she soothes you when you let out a muffled whimper, sighing when she notices a group of people turn the corner at the end of the block and begin heading your way. “Let’s go inside. I don’t need an audience.”

Her fingers are removed from your underwear and in her mouth in seconds, and she practically growls as she cleans the bit of mess you left behind. You hurry out of the car and lead Wanda to your apartment, even in your haze able to remember to get her inside before Ruth sees you. In a few blinks, she’s hovering over you on the bed, and just when you think you can’t handle any more overwhelming sensations, she kisses you.

It’s breathtaking, quite literally you feel air leaving your lungs as if she’s stealing it herself. Your eyes feel like they’re glued shut and the grip she has on your waist is almost painful, but you can’t bring yourself to complain when she’s guiding you to grind on her thigh. Her lips are replaced with two of her fingers as she begins making her way down your body, carefully undressing you with her free hand and biting and kissing the skin she exposes.

“You’re unbearably wet,” she comments from between your legs, dipping her tongue inside you while stroking yours with her fingertips and humming loudly so you’ll arch into her more. “So fucking good.”

Her tongue is replaced with her fingers, and she begins slowly pumping in and out of you while sucking on your clit just to get a reaction. She grabs your hands as they go for her hair and hold them together by the wrists, readjusting so that her thumb can circle your clit when she pulls her head away.

“Being good means not touching unless I tell you to,” she scolds.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize breathlessly through moans as she picks up her pace while adding another finger.

“You’ll have plenty of time to learn. I’ve decided to make you mine.” She continues to finger you as she brings herself back over you, ignoring your gasp when you notice her darkened eyes and pinning your hands above your head. “I can’t wait to make it official.”

Her head dips down and you fall over the edge just as she sucks your earlobe into her mouth, thrusting into you forcefully as she continues you fuck you well past the end of your orgasm while her other hand pushes your pinned wrists into the mattress as hard as she can. You’re just about to cum again when she pulls away entirely, quickly unzipping her pants and freeing a toy she had tucked away.

“That’s really big,” you comment with wide eyes that immediately flutter closed when she pushes the head of the toy inside you. “Fuck.”

“Watch your mouth,” she warns you with a quick slap on your cheek, lowering her hand to hold onto your neck just below your jaw while thrusting into you more. “If it’s so big, why is my pussy swallowing it so easily?”

“Because I want it,” you whine, releasing a loud moan when she slams her hips against yours. “Please please please, I want it.”

“I know you do, love.”

Her other hand pins your wrist against the mattress again as she leans forward and begins fucking into you as hard as she can. She slips her thumb back into your mouth to reduce your screams to muffled whines, grinning to herself when you sink your teeth into her flesh a few times.

“Begging for something you can’t even handle,” she teases, prying your mouth open with her thumb as she lowers her head closer to yours. “Perhaps we should start over.”

She waits until you start to cum and slips her tongue into your waiting mouth, and everything goes dark.

[universalistotalis]

You fool

Gojo Satoru x Fem reader

Angst

1.7k words

Masterlist!!!

“Do you Y/n, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?” Your eyes glowed as you looked at the love your life standing in front of you. This feeling of elation was something you never thought of experiencing in the past but here you are, fueled by passion and love for the person made for you.

“I do.” Your voice echoed in the venue.

Gojo Satoru’s dazzling eyes burned on your form as he too was fueled with the same passion and love for only you. The both of you had been through so much together. And as his sight was fixated with the image of your eyes, he can’t help but have a trip down to memory lane.

La la la la

La la la la

La la la la la la ~

Gojo’s voice echoed the halls playfully as you walked down the makeshift aisle lined with a red carpet in one of the hotels you both went to. The sides were designed with white and pastel colors of cloth, dotted with pink roses and yellow daisies. No one was around the marriage booth exhibit so the both of you, being the wacky couple that you were, barged in and played pretend.

Although this wasn’t pretend for Gojo. He may be smiling as if he was about to share a joke but his heart was beating like crazy while he’s looking at you, walking to him, who’s standing in front of the printed altar. He was singing the Bridal Chorus but stopped as you made your way in front of him.

“You’re so damn beautiful, babe.” He whispered as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

He was delighted as you blushed dangerously at his words. After all these years, you were still affected by his charms.

“Y-you’re not bad yourself.” You stuttered.

He laughed loudly at how cute you were being. It amazed him at how comfortable you were in his presence now. In the past, you could barely look at him in the eye, let alone talk to him... but now look at you!

Your chuckles mixed with his in the silence. After catching your breath, your eyes scanned the vicinity before pulling one of his hands. “C’mon, Satoru. We have to go.”

You expected him to agree and walk away with you to another place but he held his place, a foreign smile formed on his lips. It was not the playful smirk you were so accustomed to seeing, but it was so sincere, so full of love that you stared at it for a while. His hands removed the blindfold that covered his eyes and you silently gasped at the sparkles in them as the light illuminated the magnificent pale blue orbs. Then, he encased your hands in his before he took a deep breath and said…

“I love you. I thank all the gods everyday because out of the billions of people they built, they led me to you. I’m so glad I found you.”

“I mean you have six eyes so…” You snorted, even though you felt electrifying tingles from your head all the way to the tips of your toes.

He laughed again and hissed. “Stop ruining the moment!”

“Okay, okay. Continue, my lord.” You bowed respectfully, playfully.

He chuckled once more and hooked your chin on his fingers. “This. The way you make me laugh, the way you make me this happy, it’s enough… more than enough for me to stay and fight for you. Sometimes I wonder if it ever is legal for someone to be so perfect. You understand all parts of myself that I don't even notice. When you look at me, you don’t see that all powerful being everyone is talking about. You see me… the real me.”

A sigh escaped his lips, his eyes gloss over his thoughts. “I can never let them take you away from me. They’ve taken so much already and I am not going to just stand here and lose you.”

“Satoru—“

You suddenly felt a pang in your chest and the rapid fatigue overcome your body. After all the fun and games, you two were still in hiding. Hiding from the world, hiding from his family, both of which would never see you as a worthy match for the most powerful sorcerer of all time. He was destined for someone greater, someone better, someone of another godly descent! They didn’t care if she wasn’t born yet or was still wandering the streets of the world, clueless of his existence, but they are sure as hell that it wouldn’t and can’t be someone like you. Over their dead bodies!

Sometimes you believed them. You let their words and judgments cloud your mind but before they can take over, his voice guides you out.

His grip tightened on your fingers, eyes finding yours and holding your gaze. “I will not lose you. You’re the only right thing in my world and I intend to keep you with me for as long as I shall live. You showed me the love I never thought I deserved. You showed me immense kindness that I never thought someone could possess. You made me believe in the good. You gave me a reason to live everyday with a purpose in my head. You keep me sane. Alive. Free.”

“Oh Satoru.” You smiled through your tears at his revelation.

“I’d choose to spend all my infinities with you. No pun intended.” He joked, even when there were tears brimming in his eyes.

“I’d gladly spend them with you too.” You whispered, marveling at the warmth of his hands, wiping the tears away, erasing all the pain of the past, of the judgments and hurt…

“Stay with me.” He whispered back but you hear the tone of desperation in his voice. He was no fool. He could see you cracking at all the comments of his family and strangers alike. He would always thank you for being strong and for holding on…

You sighed as his lips found yours. Warmth coursed through your veins as you felt his soft breath brush your face. This is what home felt like. Suddenly, his tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, asking you to give him entrance to the warm interior. And you did. It was a desperate kiss of tongue and teeth clashing, of heavy breaths and tight grips. There were no inhibitions, no doubts. You both were so in love with each other, refusing to let one another go, refusing to leave each other’s sides…

But eventually, both of you faded. There were trying times, too much of trying times actually… and you two are but victims to emotions, and it came to a point where love just wasn’t enough. So you let each other go, breathe, and fly away.

“You may now kiss the bride.” The pastor announced.

Gojo had to look away from the sight of you landing your lips on another, other than his. He thought he was going to be alright when the both of you agreed to go on separate ways. He reasoned that you both needed to grow in your respective fields, to grow as a person. He deluded himself that you could only do this when you both were away from each other. And maybe after, you can both come back to each other's arms but he knew that was too much to ask.

He was the one who kept asking you to shun out the harsh words from everybody even though he knew how much pain you had to endure. Now, he can’t help but feel guilty as he was the one who got swallowed up by those judgments until it ate him whole. It was supposed to be you and him against the world but he turned against you too.

The pain in your eyes were unbearable when he said his goodbyes. What happened to his speeches about making you stay with him? What happened to his promise of protecting you from all the barriers that separated you from one another? What happened to his love for you?

“Gojo sensei.” Megumi called while patted his back. “Are you alright?”

Gojo pushed his dark- rimmed glasses to the bridge of his nose while displaying a playful smirk. “Of course! I’m so happy for her! Look at them! Such a lovely couple!”

His blood boiled at the sight of you. He preferred to be battling cursed spirits than to be in this damned wedding. But he had to see you. He had to see if you were alright. He had to see that you were truly happy without him.

-

“That should have been me, Megumi.” He whispered to the man beside him.

“You’re crazy, sensei.” Megumi scoffed.

He chuckled. “No, no, I’m serious! I was supposed to propose to her that day! Can you believe it?!"

“Sensei—“

“This ring…” Gojo’s fingers reached for his pocket where he fetched a dazzling, silver, and diamond band with both your names engraved in it. “...is supposed to be resting on her finger, not that trashy one the other bastard got her.”

He sighed. “I never knew why I postponed though. Live in the moment, my ass! I'll do it next time, my ass! I'll make it the grandest, my ass! Look where she is now!"

"Hush!" Megumi's hands flew to his babbling mouth that was shouting all of his regrets.

Gojo's body deflated at the millions of ways he could have done the proposal right even when it's now useless to think of. "Maybe I took her presence for granted. Maybe I thought that she would always be there. Maybe I thought she would never leave. Maybe I thought that she would want to spend all her infinities with me.” His voice faltered at the end as he heard your voice saying the same words.

His eyes closed shut, remembering the promises you made to each other. “She meant it though when she said that. And when she said she loved me. She was so ready to be with me, so ready to fight for me. I’m the fool for letting her go.”

Megumi’s eyes filled with concern for his teacher, much like an older brother. He has never seen him at this state, all weak to the knees.

“Say, Megumi- chan.” Gojo’s lopsided smirk appeared again but everybody knows he’s not in the mood for any jokes.

“Yeah?”

“Does she look genuinely happy?” He asked, staring into the void.

Megumi’s eyes trailed from Gojo to you, who was smiling dearly at your beloved husband as you shared a dance in this reception. Your eyes were visibly twinkling under the lights and you looked like you can’t see anybody but the person in front of you.

“Yes, she does.” He replied.

“Then, let’s go.” He smiled sadly before sighing defeatedly. The ring was again tucked in his pockets, hidden, never to be seen by you, worn by you, cherished by you.

As he walked out of the doors, he took one last glance at the love of his life.

“If I could, I’d carve all the roads of infinity to lead you back to me. Maybe by then, I could have a chance with you again. I love you, I always will.”

His footsteps led him away from the venue. Away from you. But his heart stayed in your presence and his mind repeated the same thing over and over again.

Gojo Satoru, you fool.

---

Just painted Gojo Satoru and my head was like, "Why not write angst about this guy?" Lol

I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Hope you're all okay!

Reblogs are appreciated! <3

Masterlist!!! Read more here hihihi

[wackybuddiemewbs]

I don't know why, but since I read the synopsis for the season 5 episode with the truck crashing into a high school homecoming parade... I feel this craving for the 118 to go down memory lane about high school times.

So I keep headcanoning about everyone talking about how horrible, embarrassing, or annoying certain things were back then. The bullies. The pranks. The strict teachers that never bothered to understand the kids or listen to their concerns. Detention. Annoying school trips. How some always felt left out coz they were the nerds or whatever else. So basically everyone shares some embarrassing or even sad high school tale.

Buck's listening intently all the while and flashes that super adorable dorky smile, probably even more when he learns some fun fact about Eddie (would totally love for Eddie to admit that he did dance and drama and stuff and for Buck to get all hot and bothered over it).

So then someone asks Buck to share something, too. And maybe someone who's not necessarily part of the firefam then jokes (and really, all good-natured and not in a mean way) that Buck probably doesn't have anything to add as he was surely one of the popular kids. And Buck just gets that funny look on his face, but before anyone can elaborate, they are called back to action.

Maybe a wild giraffe appears again, who knows.

But Eddie *notices*. Of course he does. Because he's head over heels swooning and mooning over his partner. Ah my oblivious gays, I mean guys.

So back at the station, everyone is still talking about it, and then Eddie feels the need to ask Buck specifically about it. And while especially the firefam know that Buck is a great guy and what he's been through as a kid thanks to the shitty parents, most of the station is still pretty sold on the idea that he probably was one of the popular kids that never would've hung out with the "nerds and losers" at that age.

Then Buck gets that funny look again, and he just shrugs and points out that he didn't put on muscle until way later in his high school years. So he was a lanky kid that just constantly had his arm in a cast and whose parents weren't really at the forefront to cheer him on once he got into school sports. And he wasn't the brightest, so the supposed nerds only ever rolled their eyes when they got teamed up with him for a project. And later on towards his senior year, he'd tried so hard to be liked that his peers noticed and made fun of him behind his back, but he kept at it anyway. You know, for the attention and all.

And Buck's all "I don't sweat it anymore" and seems genuine about it, pointing out that he's happy as a clam with what he got now. And maybe it all ebbs into a conversation with everyone talking about the things that were great during school despite it all.

Coz I think it'd be a nice way to show different (bad) experiences people go through. That bullying can take on different forms and that it isn't just the "popular" kids that can be mean at times. And that just because someone may have been "popular" doesn't mean you're immune to shitty experiences, growing up. And that what matters most is what you make out of the cards you've been handed.

And if Buck then drops kind of just as casually "And then the football team caught me making out with a guy from the baseball team in the locker rooms after I'd just ended my short relationship with a cheerleader... which created some confusion. But it was damn well worth it."

So Buck could just casually work into conversation that he's been bi since high school, and Eddie can go into gay panic mode.

So yeah, strange headcanons, my folks!

[amysteryspot]

Better With You - Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Request: If you can could you please do one about Tommy having a sort of possessive claim over you (not in an abusive way of course) even though you’ve never looked at him in that way, and when Michael comes into the family again you two get close, which makes Tommy extremely jealous.

Requested by: Anonymous

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Summary: Thomas has known (Y/N) for all of her life and loved her for most part of his, always disguising his claim on her as friendly protectiveness. What happens when Michael makes his way back into the family and starts to get a little too close to her for Tommy’s liking?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of war, mild smut (?).

Word Count: 3526

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. Hope you all have fun reading it too. An especial thank to @the-friendly-editor​ for helping me edit this, it meant a lot to me. Tags are at the end of the post, if you want to be add send me a message. I would love to hear what you think of it, your feedback is always appreciated.

 Things you should consider before reading this:

1. I named the Shelby’s mother Anastasia because I felt like I needed to do that. Also, I know that there is a lot of discussion about Finn and the rest of the Shelbys having the same mother or not. I just assumed that they all have the same mother and she died a little after giving birth to Finn. It is not something groundbreaking for the fic but I wanted to clarify just in case.

2. The boys went to war right at the beginning of it; I just ignored the information given to us by “The Ballad of Tommy Shelby”.

3. I probably forgot to warn you about something, I’m sorry.

 (Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname | (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name | (Y/E/C) = Your Eye Color

If you asked Tommy how long he had known (Y/N) (Y/L/N), he wouldn’t know how to answer—fuck, it seemed like the woman had been in his life forever.

He remembered the day his mother had brought him to the (Y/L/N)’s house for them to meet the new baby. Four-year-old Tommy had complained all the way to their neighbor’s house, much to his older brother’s amusement, until their mother had given him a scolding. (Y/N)’s birth had been the talk of Watery Lane. They finally had a sweet little girl for the neighborhood to dote on.

With two sons, Anastasia was more than happy to welcome the little girl into their lives, not so secretly longing to have a daughter, and that was the reason for Tommy to be fussing over going to see the newborn—jealousy.

However, nothing could have prepared little Tommy for what was about to happen when his mother sat him down on the couch and Mrs. (Y/L/N) put the bundle of covers in his arms—his icy blue eyes stared down at baby (Y/N), who stopped crying instantly when she looked up at him with bright (Y/E/C) eyes of her own. From that moment on, Tommy knew that he would always love her.

And love her he did, since that day and throughout all of their lives. He would raise hell at home for his mother to bring him to the (Y/L/N)’s home so he could see (Y/N), and the three adults would all be astonished at how easily the baby would stop crying when she was in his arms. It wasn’t really a surprise that the first word she babbled was “Tom” or that when she started walking, on wobbly feet, it was Tommy she was seeking.

As they grew up, they grew closer, until it became almost impossible to have one without the other. When Ada was born, Tommy was worried about the possibility that (Y/N) would forget about him, that she would be too enchanted by having another girl around. Instead, as the time passed, he discovered that his little sister was one more reason for (Y/N) to spend more time at the Shelby home.

Even when he started messing around with the boys on the street, and she befriended other girls at school, they would still seek each other out whenever they could. They stuck together when their teenage years came, when Tommy started fooling around with girls from school and secretly scaring down most of the boys that showed any interest in (Y/N).

At least, he did until the day she came crying to him about not being good enough or pretty enough for anybody, not like the girls he would go out with, and breaking his heart; that certainly wasn’t what he had in mind when chasing down the boys. All he had wanted was to protect her, to make sure that she wouldn’t exchange him for some other boy. He wanted to ensure that she was his and his only.

That was actually the reason that led to their first kiss—her first kiss—(Y/N/N) had asked him, pleaded with him, through all the tears to just kiss her and get it done. Fifteen-year-old (Y/N) was sure that nobody would ever want her, and she wanted to experience it at least once. She told Tommy he was the only one she trusted with the task.

“It will mean nothing to you, Tom. You have kissed a million other girls already—I will just be another one for you—but it’s important to me. Please, Tom? Please, please.”

Her pleas had won him over, but (Y/N)’s words couldn’t have been further from the truth—the kiss had meant something for him. It had meant more than he predicted when he gave in to her begging, because the moment their lips touched, Tommy realized he was in love with his best friend and the worst part was that she didn’t had a fucking clue about it.

Then Tommy did what he did best; he pretended that it never happened, pushing it away and never talking to anyone about the kiss or his feelings. He stopped chasing down the boys who would show interest in (Y/N) and watched as she eventually started going out with some of them, laughing with him about how stupid she was to think that no one would ever like her.

When her first boyfriend got too handsy and she broke up with him—not before giving him a good left hook that left him with a very black eye, just like Tommy had taught her—(Y/N) had gone straight to the Shelby home, looking for comfort in his arms. Tommy pretended that the gnawing feeling in his chest was nothing but brotherly protectiveness instead of anger, jealousy and possessiveness—a destructive combination, especially on a Shelby boy.

(Y/N) had stayed with him that night, and the both of them slept together like they used to when they were kids. First thing in the morning the next day, right after he left her at her own house, he found her now ex-boyfriend and beat him up. Arthur and Freddie had to get him off of the guy, afraid of what he would end up doing if they didn’t stop him.

After that, Tommy had focused on channeling his frustrations into going out with every girl in town that wasn’t her. It wasn’t difficult, he was good looking and charming and he was very aware of it; that’s how he met Greta, and thought that he could get over his feelings for his best friend with her.

Greta’s parents were against their involvement at first, but he charmed them, so they started dating. His heart broke down when (Y/N) found out and showed genuine happiness for him having finally found somebody to settle down with.

Tommy’s plan was to end things between them. However, Greta fell ill and he didn’t have the heart to break up with her, so he stayed by her side until she passed. (Y/N) gave him support in the only way she knew how: by loving him.

Just not in the way he wanted her to.

When they thought that things would go back to normal, the War exploded and Tommy did the only thing he considered right in his eyes: he enlisted alongside his brothers. Their first fight had taken place on the night he told her he was leaving for France in two weeks. (Y/N) had hit and screamed at him until he was able to take a hold on her and then, then she cried in his arms the whole night, afraid that she would lose him forever.

They did the best they could with those two weeks. Once more, nothing could have prepared Tommy for (Y/N)’s appeal the night before he was shipping to France. She had come to him right after dinner. Her father was preparing himself to leave, too, and both of the (Y/L/N) women were enjoying whatever time they had left with him before he was gone.

As they both laid there in his bed, resting in each other’s arms and staring at the ceiling, (Y/N) made the decision that would seal his fate if he could survive the war.

“Make love to me.”

It wasn’t a question, nor a request—she was simply telling him to make love to her like this was the most logical thing in the world. His breath caught in his throat, preventing him from answering at first, and (Y/N/N) took that as a cue to reassure him.

“It will be like my first kiss, Tommy, just something I have to get over with. I want it to be you. I trust you. Let me give you at least one last good memory of me before you go.”

Again, he caved in, not needing much more convincing than the certainty in her eyes as she looked down at him, propped up on one elbow. Her hand rested unintentionally above his heart. Granting her wishes, he let himself dive into his own desires, touching her the way he had wanted since they had kissed for the first time.

He worked her body like a delicate instrument and pulled at her strings smoothly, engraving every beautiful sound that he coaxed out of her and the feel of her under his fingertips in his memory. When morning came, they were still a mess of limbs intertwined together, trying to hold on to a last thread of hope and imprint the last few hours on their memories.

In a way, (Y/N) was right. The boy that entered that train in 1914 wasn’t the same that got out of it in 1918. Yet, his love for her never faltered; it just became a tad more… dangerous.

Thomas lost count of how many letters they had exchanged during the past four years. He lost count of how many times he dreamt of her, of coming back home and telling her how he felt. However, any courage he had gathered vanished the moment he saw her waiting for him at the train station. He couldn’t condemn her to a life by his side, he had already taken enough from her.

Polly had told him in her letters how (Y/N/N) had helped her with the business, with the house, with Finn, and with any other thing she could. Especially after her mother, who had given up on life after Mr. (Y/L/N) was killed in combat, passed. A part of him felt guilty for not being there for her as much as she was for him when his mother passed and his father left.

“She’s a Shelby now.”

That’s what Polly had said when he asked her if (Y/N) had any remaining family.

Not much changed when they returned. (Y/N/N) still worked with them. She spent more time at the Shelby home and the gambling den than at her own place. The two of them still sought each other out, not talking much, but enjoying each other’s company. It was in those quiet moments with her that Tommy had a little peace.

Thomas drowned himself in work to forget it all, wanting to expand the business, unleashing his ambitions so long smothered by the war. They found the guns, in a strike of luck, he thought. Both Polly and (Y/N) advised him to let it go, but he just couldn’t. It was too good of an opportunity.

Campbell had come because of it, and with him, Grace. At the time, he didn’t know who she really was. He thought that the beautiful, blonde barmaid was just that: beautiful and innocent, everything he and his family were not. So he fooled himself, fell for her, and then she betrayed him and left for America.

Again, (Y/N) was there for him, and again, he found himself sinking into his love for her. The only good thing that came from all this mess was that the business was never better. He thought that it was time to start planning for an expansion, and with that came another thing that he hadn’t quite predicted—Michael.

He had planned to find Polly’s children for her. She had been suffering quite a lot lately. Even if people thought that his heart was as good as gone, he wanted his family to be okay. He wanted them to be happy.

Thomas found the boy and he came to Polly, making his way into the family and the business quickly. That included starting to get close to (Y/N) – too fucking close for his liking.

It was supposed to be natural, he knew that. (Y/N) kept the books at the shop. She was better with numbers than most of them, so it was natural that she would be the one to help Michael when he assumed the position of accounts clerk.

After they came back, he learned that (Y/N) had become very good at sneaking around without getting caught. It was rare to see her with any men whose last name wasn’t Shelby, or wasn’t closely related to the Peaky Blinders. That didn’t mean she didn’t have men swooning over her all the time, or that he was finally okay with that—much like when they were teenagers, he wanted to chase them all down—the only difference was now he was more deadly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

It was Michael’s voice that brought him back to reality, and his gaze fell immediately on the boy. They were all gathered on the snug in the Garrison. (Y/N) was sitting between him and Michael, Tommy’s arm casually rested on her shoulders.

(Y/N) said, “Oh, no, you would totally get it... after a few more weeks.”

Everyone burst out laughing at her remark, but the only thing he could think about was the hand Michael rested on (Y/N)’s thigh. His own hand clenched around his glass before he downed the rest of its contents.

He didn’t notice Polly’s gaze on him. Despite what most people believed, Tommy had never been a good liar. He could get away with omitting information to people and redirecting the conversation, most of the time, but a direct confrontation was a completely different thing. Polly was always able to read him first, to know the things he wasn’t willing to share.

“Maybe we should just hire you instead of Michael, then.” He ignored the look (Y/N) gave him, taking another drag of his cigarette and looking away.

However, he couldn’t miss the lingering touches, or how (Y/N/N) leaned into Michael when he talked to her, and how she was just so comfortable with him. It made his blood boil.

When (Y/N/N) said she wanted to get home he offered to walk her, and was fairly surprised at how she didn’t say a word to him until they reached her front door.

Then she turned to face him, features painted with anger, and asked, “What the hell was that, Tom?”

He actually rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

(Y/N) huffed, turning around to unlock the door before entering the house, leaving it open for him to follow. She went straight to the dressing room, shedding her coat and throwing it at the table with her purse as he followed her closely.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She was taking her shoes off, and Tommy took advantage of the moment to let his eyes follow her movements. God, was he in love with that woman.

“I’m talking about your attitude with Michael at the Garrison. That was completely unnecessary,” She said.

“Someone had to put that boy in his place,” Tommy said.

(Y/N) turned to him then, and he would be worried with that look if he hadn’t been at the receiving end of her anger for so many years.

“Oh, please enlighten me, Thomas. What is his place?” (Y/N) asked.

“For fucks sake, (Y/N/N), he was all over you!”

She rolled her eyes. “He is a boy, Thomas, a boy. He’s family…”

Tommy never thought that what would make him snap would be hearing her say that Michael was family, but apparently it was.

“He’s family, huh?” Thomas said. “He is fucking family! Then he should know better and stay away from you.”

She stared at him for a moment, brow furrowed, as she seemed to put the puzzle together in her head. “Why would he stay away from me, Tom?”

He turned around to face away from her for a moment, rubbing a hand over his face. “No, no. You won’t make me feel guilty for that.”

“Make you feel guilty for what, Tommy?”

He recognized the hint of annoyance on her tone and couldn’t ignore it anymore, the alcohol giving him the courage that he had lost that day on the train station, as he turned around and shouted, “For loving you!”

She held her breath, eyes widening as she stared back at him.

Tommy continued, “Michael should stay away from you because you’re fucking mine and I love you.”

“Tommy, I’m not your property, and you know that I love you…”

“No, you don’t,” he interrupted her, making her look at him with confusion, “You don’t love me the way I love you. The way I’ve loved you since the fucking day you asked me to kiss you when you were fifteen!”

He saw her flinch before murmuring his name, trying to gain his attention but he couldn’t stop now. The truth was finally out there and he just had to go on with it, let it all out before he lost his mind.

“You said to me that it would mean nothing, that it would be just another kiss for me, but you were wrong,” Tommy said, his breaths short.

She looked bewildered, and Tommy held onto a strand of hope he didn’t even know still existed.

“That kiss meant fucking everything. From that day on, I’ve never seen you in the same way as before, because I realized I was in love with you and you didn’t feel the same. So I ignored these feelings while I saw you going out with boys, and I’ve thrown myself into fucking every girl that wasn’t you because I knew I couldn’t have you, not the way I wanted.”

Tommy didn’t notice that he was walking to her until they were just a breath apart.

“Then I found Greta, and I thought that I could forget you, but it only reminded me that you are the only one I want. I was going to break up with her, but she fell ill. You stayed by my side, and just when I thought that I would have a chance to tell you everything, the war happened and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t, because there was no way in hell that I was going to risk going to fight in France and die. I couldn’t leave you here to suffer because of me, either because you felt the same or not.”

“Tommy…” (Y/N)’s voice was all but a whisper.

He couldn’t resist anymore, his hands brought her to him, his eyes observing hers from up close, not giving her time to talk or he would lose his courage.

“I was ready to go there and die, and never let you know how I felt. But you had to give me hope that night before I was shipped off to that fucking hell. You had to…”He took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a brief second, a flood of memories making his heart race faster. “You had to give yourself to me. You had to give me a taste of what I thought I could never have, to make me want to survive the fucking war, to come back to you, and to let you know about all of these stupid feelings.”

Tommy couldn’t wait anymore. He did the one thing he had wanted to since he had returned from France—he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle or patient; no, it was urgent and filled with passion and he didn’t know how to stop, not when she wasn’t pushing him away. He devoured her as a man starved, teeth clashing and hands grabbing at anything they could touch. They were both out of breath when they finally parted.

“You said that you wanted to give me one last good memory and it was that memory that kept me alive during most of the nights when I was stuck in the fucking mud,” Thomas said.

(Y/N)’s fingers were clinging to him like her life depended on it, like she was afraid to lose him to the War again.

Tommy took the moment to let the words spill out. “The memory of you and the feeling of you under my fingers, and all around me, and the way you tasted.”

His lips brushed against hers, fingers clawing at the flesh of her hips like they had done the night before he left for France.

He backed her up against the wall, hands trailing down to the back of her thighs, picking her up and trapping her with his body.

Tommy looked straight to her eyes as he spoke again, “How you writhed under me, all the beautiful sounds you made, and I just wanted to come back to you and make some new memories.”

(Y/N) shivered at his words. She gave him just a brief second to observe the rise and fall of her chest and her expanded pupils before he felt her fingers at the back of his head, forcing him to really look at her as she said, “Then let’s work on those new memories.”

Their lips clashed again, and every doubt that he ever felt vanished for a moment. That night their bodies moved together like old acquaintances, skin sliding against skin, hands gripping at each other, lips kissing every patch of skin while chanting a sinful choir of moans and curses alongside their names.

When Tommy woke up the next day, (Y/N/N) in his arms, he realized that he was finally home.

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @internalmess3

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Relationship Stahl ~ Charlie Conway x Adam Banks

A/N: Hi all, I'm on my Mighty Ducks bullshit, so sorry not sorry. This is just for fun. It's postcanon - could be canon with the show. I don't specifically go against anything. But yeah. Enjoy this fic for a movie that came out over 25 years ago. *Posts fic and runs away*

Summary: Charlie and Adam are idiots. And they finally figure that out thanks to Charlie's pen pal.

Characters/Pairings: Charlie Conway/Adam Banks, Charlie Conway, Adam Banks, Connie Moreau, Guy Germaine, Fulton Reed, Gunnar Stahl

Rating: T

Word Count: 2800

Warnings: Language ( I think that's it)

^True love if I ever saw it ;)

Charlie grinned at his laptop as he fired off his enthusiastic response to the latest email from his pen pal before flipping open his phone. Instead of scrolling through his contacts, he dialed the number he knew by heart.

“I literally just dropped you off,” his best friend laughed when he picked up on the third ring.

“And I couldn’t bear to be without you,” Charlie quipped back.

“What do you want, Charlie?”

Adam’s voice was undeniably fond and it made Charlie’s stomach flutter.

“How do you feel about going to the Wilds game on Saturday?”

“How’d you swing those tickets?”

Charlie shrugged even though Adam couldn’t see him. “I know a guy. So are you in? We can grab drinks with some of the ducks afterwards.”

He could practically hear Adam shaking his head and it made Charlie’s smile widen. He knew what his answer would be.

“Yeah, I’m in. Of course I’m in. I’ll pick you up at 5?”

“Sounds good.”

“Are the other ducks coming?

“I’m gonna see who’s around.”

“Alright. Can’t wait. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Charlie smiled at the question in his voice.

“Of course. I’ll call you after work.”

“Good night, Charlie.”

“Night. Banksy. Text me when you get home, alright?”

“Will do.”

Adam was wearing a Minnesota Wilds Jersey and a pair of tight-fitting jeans, when he knocked on the door of Charlie’s house.

He checked his watch. He was early.

He was always early.

Charlie probably wouldn’t be ready for another half hour, so he was surprised when the door swung open – at least until he saw Casey Conway’s smiling face.

“Adam, honey, how are you?” she cooed as she pulled him inside and into a tight hug.

“I’m great, Mrs. Conway. You’re looking lovely this evening.”

She swatted at him, but he saw her genuine smile. “Always a charmer.”

“How are you? How’s the diner?”

“I’m great. The diner is doing well. Business has really increased since we reopened after the renovations. We still have our regulars, but we’re getting more of a younger crowd too.”

“That’s awesome. And so well deserved.”

Adam could still remember when Charlie had sprinted into their college dorm room talking a mile a minute. He’d gleaned that there was a long lost uncle who’d passed and left his mother a rather large inheritance, and she was going to use that to buy out the diner that she’d been helping run for years.

Charlie had been so excited he’d nearly fell over because he forgot to breathe. Adam had spent the summer helping to paint and decorate the newly renovated diner.

“It’s been way too long since you’ve come over for dinner. Are you free next week?”

“Would Tuesday work?”

“Perfect. That’s my early night. And I’ll make your favorite pot pie.”

Adam grinned at the ceiling as he rocked back on his heels.

“You’re the best, Mrs. C.”

“Well, I won’t hold you up. I’m afraid I’ve already made Charlie late. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“See you then.”

She gave him another quick hug before scurrying out the door.

Adam sighed as he checked his watch.

“Hey, Spazaway. Hurry up or we’re gonna be late!” he yelled up the stairs.

“I’m coming! Relax, cake-eater!”

There were several thumps as Charlie hopped on one foot to get his shoe on and then a slam of his bedroom door, but by the time he made it downstairs he looked perfectly disheveled in a cool way instead of a sloppy way. Classic Charlie. It’d be irritating if it wasn’t so attractive.

“Hey, Banksy. See, 5:15 right on time.”

“I told you I’d pick you up at 5,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but we both know that at this point you tell me you’ll pick me up 30 minutes before we actually have to leave. So technically, I’m 15 minutes early,” Charlie grinned and slung an arm around his shoulder.

Adam huffed but couldn’t argue. Charlie was right. He’d learned a long time ago never to trust Charlie to be punctual, so he had started telling him earlier times in the hope that they’d actually arrive places before the events were over.

“It’s gonna be a great night.”

“Are any of the others coming?”

“Connie, Guy, and Fulton. Everyone else was busy.”

“That’ll be fun,” Adam admitted as he climbed into the car.

Secretly, he’d kind of been hoping that it would just be him and Charlie, but he shoved that thought away. It would be good to go out with some of his oldest friends.

“Yeah. It will.”

The five ducks were happily chatting and catching up, laden down with food as they waited for the game to start.

Guy was the first to notice the name after the national anthem.

“Do you think Stahl is the same one we faced from Iceland?”

“I don’t know,” Adam shrugged. “How common of a name do you think it is?”

“Remember when you had that massive crush on Gunnar, Charlie?” Connie teased before taking a sip of her soda.

“I didn’t have a crush on Gunnar.”

“You so did,” Fulton laughed, nudging. “How many hours did you spend watching tapes of his signature shot?”

“That was research,” Charlie insisted, though his cheeks were slightly pink.

“Yeah, you definitely needed to spend all that time on just Gunnar Stahl and not the rest of Iceland,” Guy faux agreed with an exaggerated wink.

Adam remained quiet. He remembered Charlie’s “not a crush” all too well. He wasn’t proud to admit it, but he’d been jealous at the time.

At first it had been, look at this shot. Or look at this play.

And then after the games it was, he’s so nice and cool. He called me ‘Captain Duck’.

Charlie hadn’t shut up about him until they were on the plane home and he promptly knocked out on Adam’s shoulder. Number ninety-nine didn’t have it in him to be jealous when he got to have a sleeping Charlie Conway on top of him.

Tuning back into the conversation after his quick jaunt down memory lane, Adam realized they were still ribbing Charlie.

“Okay, fine. I might have had a little crush on him. I was young. I was still figuring myself out,” Charlie admitted.

“Figures your first crush would be on a hockey player,” Fulton pointed out.

“Who said he was my first crush?”

Adam swore Charlie’s gaze darted to him, and he felt his cheeks heat up.

“Well you literally never talked about anybody else like that before him,” Guy said.

“Except Banks,” Fulton added.

The three of them looked at Adam and he knew he was bright red. They all knew he’d had a crush on Charlie when they were kids. And that he still sort of had a crush on him. He could kick Fulton right now, and he would have if Charlie wasn’t sitting in between them.

“I still talk about Banksy all the time.”

“I’m right here,” Adam finally managed to grumble.

Charlie grinned and nudged him with his shoulder, before throwing an arm around him.

“Are we really gonna sit here and argue over who I did or did not have a crush on twenty something years ago?”

“Yes.” The other three nodded emphatically.

Charlie rolled his eyes.

“Alright fine. Yes, I had a crush on him. But laugh all you want. You have that crush to thank for these seats,” Charlie reminded them smugly.

“What do you mean?” Adam choked out as the others gasped.

Charlie looked at the four flabbergasted ducks in confusion.

“Gunnar got me the tickets. I thought you guys knew.”

“We didn’t know that,” Guy nearly shouted.

“You kept in touch with him all these years?” Connie asked softly.

Their captain shrugged.

“We were pen pals. And now we email every few weeks.”

Adam’s heart clenched in something that felt a lot like jealousy – a lot like when he was 14. He turned his attention to the game, Stahl was on the ice. Adam couldn’t help but track his movements. It had been years since he moved like that. Another squeeze.

It was going to be a long night.

Charlie noticed the instant Adam went rigid, but he couldn’t understand why. After all, he was the one being teased for a 20 year old crush that only lasted for a minute.

He tried to nudge his best friend and get a response, but Adam’s eyes were glued to the game. That wouldn’t have worried Charlie, but the tight set of his jaw was nothing like his usual relaxed joy at the games. That was one of the reason Charlie had made it a point to go to as many hockey games with Adam as he could. He loved to observe him while he watched the game. But right now, his expression was stony.

When Gunnar managed a hat trick early in the third, Adam abruptly excused himself, saying he needed to go to the bathroom.

“What’s up with Banks?” Fulton voiced Charlie’s question aloud.

Charlie shrugged. “No clue.”

Connie rolled her eyes.

“Boys. He’s jealous.”

“Of what?”

“God, Charlie, are you that oblivious?”

His brow furrowed and he stared at her.

“What are you talking about?”

She huffed and shook her head.

“Nope. If you can’t figure it out after 25 years, you’re on your own.”

Adam was less grumpy, but still pretty sedate when he returned with only a few minutes left to go.

“You alright?” Charlie asked in a low voice as he settled back into his seat.

“Yeah. All good. Long line for the bathroom.”

Charlie didn’t believe him, but shrugged it off as the Wilds managed a late game comeback and beat the Anaheim Mighty Ducks and they were all on their feet cheering.

The five of them waited outside the side exit where the players would come out for Gunnar. The former Iceland captain signed a few autographs before he caught sight of Charlie and waved, flashing him a big smile.

“Good to see you, Captain Duck!” he shouted as he pulled Charlie into a tight hug.

“Good to see you too, Gunnar. Nice playing tonight.”

“Thank you.” Gunnar turned his attention to the rest of the Ducks. “It’s good to see you all too.”

There were various murmurs of agreement, before an awkward silence fell.

“Drinks?” Charlie finally suggested.

“Definitely.”

Drinks helped. Everyone loosened up by the second round. Even Adam, though he was not that talkative. He could see why Charlie would have kept in touch with the Icelander. He really was quite charming.

That did not help.

When Charlie stepped away from the table to get another pitcher, Gunnar slid into his vacated seat. Adam panicked for a moment. Guy and Connie were deep in conversation and Fulton had gone to the bathroom, it was just the two of them.

“You know, Captain Duck still never shuts up about you.”

“Still?” Adam asked, fixated on the word.

“At the Goodwill Games, when we spoke for the first time at the closing ceremony, Charlie wouldn’t stop raving about you. How he’d been worried about you being hurt. He even glared at Sanderson. And in his letters, he always talked about you. In every single one. I think I knew more about how you were doing than I did about him.”

“Sorry?”

Adam had no idea how to respond. Gunnar chuckled and shook his head.

“It’s sweet. I’m glad the two of you have made it this far. You’re a good pair.”

Adam’s jaw dropped and he floundered for an answer.

“Thanks?”

“Thanks what?”

Of course Guy chose that moment to resurface from his conversation.

“For saying I played well back in ’94,” Adam lied unconvincingly.

Charlie’s return halted the conversation, and Adam couldn’t help but think about what Gunnar had said. Why would Charlie be talking about him? Did Gunnar think they were together? Why did Gunnar think they were together?

His head was spinning. And it definitely wasn’t the alcohol. Per usual, it was all Charlie Conway’s fault.

Charlie was playing with the edge of his jersey when Adam pulled up to his house.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” he offered.

“Yeah, sure,” Adam agreed.

“Oh. Okay. Cool.”

Charlie had been expecting him to bail. That was what Adam did when things got tense between them, so his easy agreement caught him off guard.

He pulled two beers from the fridge and took a moment to steel himself before rejoining Adam in the living room.

“It was a great game.”

“Yeah. Ducks were smart when they got Gunnar.”

“Definitely.”

“So, why didn’t you tell any of us that you were still talking to him?”

The former captain tried to gauge Adam’s mood, but he was surprisingly nonchalant.

“I didn’t really think about it. When we were writing actual letters, I’d get one maybe three times a year. So it just never came up. And then we started emailing and it was just something I did. It never seemed like a big deal.”

“So it’s not because you’ve been carrying a torch for him all these years?” Adam asked shyly.

The laughter that bubbled out of Charlie was loud and somewhat alarming.

“Of course not, Banksy. I mean, yes, I had a crush on him. For what seems like five seconds at this point in our lives. He’s just someone I liked to keep in touch with. Another person to talk hockey with. Honestly, I thought we’d last like two letters and then never talk again.”

“Have you seen him before?”

“No. Tonight’s the first time I’ve seen him since we left the games. This isn’t some big torrid affair I’ve been hiding. It’s a pen pal. Who got us tickets to a Wilds game.”

“That was pretty cool.”

“Are we good?”

Adam nodded. “We’re good. Sorry, it was just unexpected.”

“That’s fair. I really thought I had told you guys at some point over the years. Sorry I sprang it on you… unintentionally.”

“No worries.”

It was comfortable for a bit. Charlie put on ESPN and they caught the highlights from the other games that had been played. Somehow he ended up leaning heavily into Adam’s side.

“Was he your first?” He asked as the commentators went over the same play for the third time.

“Was who my first what?” Charlie asked, letting his head loll to the side so he could look at Adam without pulling away.

“Was Gunnar your first crush?”

It came out in a sigh.

“No. He wasn’t.”

“Who was it?”

“Guess.”

“Charlie.”

“I’m serious. Guess. I’ll even give you 5 questions to try and figure it out.”

Charlie wasn’t going to admit it without a fight, and Adam knew it. Curiosity got the better of him.

“Fine. Was your first crush a hockey player?”

“Yes.”

“Someone on our team?”

Charlie nodded, sitting up so he could watch him more closely.

“Boy or girl?”

“Boy.”

“Peewees or Goodwill Games?”

“Met him in Peewees. Realized I had a crush on him during the Goodwill Games.”

“Did he go to Eden Hall?”

“Yes. I even roomed with him at one point. That’s five. Time to guess.”

He was certain he’d know now.

“Fulton?” Adam asked innocently.

Charlie hung his head.

“You cannot possibly be this obtuse, Banksy.”

“What? You met him in Peewees, he was with us at the games and at Eden hall and you roomed with him sophomore year.”

“Christ,” he huffed. “It’s you, Banksy. Not Fulton. God, definitely not Fulton. He’s like my brother. It’s you.”

“Me? You had a crush on me?”

“I mean, can you call it a crush if it lasts 25 years?”

Adam’s jaw hit the floor.

“You still have a crush on me?” His voice was small, so much like that 10 year old who’d been forced to leave the Hawks. But there was hope.

Charlie, momentarily panicked before resigning himself to his fate. It had to come out.

“No, Adam. I don’t have a crush on you now.”

His best friend deflated slightly.

“I’m in love with you now. I have been for as long as I can remember. Even if I didn’t realize it. And I know you probably don’t feel the same way –“

“I do. Feel the same way. God, Charlie. I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

“Seriously?”

Adam nodded once, resolutely before Charlie’s lips were on his.

The kiss was quick and hungry and it left them both wanting more.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Charlie demanded in a whisper as he pulled back, touching their foreheads together.

“Why didn’t you?” Adam sniped back.

“Touche. God so much lost time.”

“We didn’t lose anything, Charlie. We were together. That’s never a loss.”

“I love you, Banksy.”

“I love you too, Charlie.”

A/N: Yeah so I love them. I hope you enjoyed this. I stand by my theory that Charlie had a brief infatuation with Gunnar Stahl. Thanks for reading!

[diavolosthots]

DARK DECEPTION CHAPTER 9

READ CHAPTER 8 HERE

Authors Note: whats popping I'm back. Sorry it took so long. 😅 I have no clue if that's the same gif i used before whoops. Also I hope you enjoy "Brain-Wrecker3002" the best console in the Devildom. So bare with me and Mario kart. Just do it for the sake of the story.

Warnings: none

Pairing(s): Diavolo x Reader, Leviathan, Barbatos

Diavolo wasn’t kidding when he said he had set up a gaming room. You had yet to know all of the castle’s layout, but you were certain that this was one of the biggest ones. “For me?” You questioned, not necessarily intending for it to be said out loud. “For everyone, but I imagine you will be spending quite a lot of time here, My Lady.” Barbatos seemed too nice, as always, but you didn’t have time to worry about it. You were staring at a gigantic screen half the size of the wall. Red cushioned floor beds were made into seating areas with snacks and drinks right beside each one. Consoles for days, both from the human realm and the Devildom itself, along with games that you both loved and couldn’t wait to try, “this is amazing.” Honestly, your jaw was on the floor and you had to look around the room one more time to make sure it was real. Barbatos chuckled behind you, but excused himself for duties soon after, and for a while, you just stood there in the massive room. 

Although amazement seethed through your body, you had to take this opportunity and realize that you were finally alone and not locked up in his room. You weren’t going to be completely alone, no, but you were going to be with an outsider, and Leviathan nonetheless. Of course, none of this meant the coast was clear, and you were almost certain that Barbatos, and or Diavolo, were watching you, somehow, someway. You needed to be smarter than them. You needed to find a way to tell Leviathan something without them noticing, or at least noticing right away. 

“(Y/N)?” You jumped at the voice, turning to see Levi standing there with Barbatos, who was still smiling way too casually. “Levi!” Happiness ran through you and you immediately ran toward him, engulfing him in a humongous hug that had him stumbling back before he caught you. Of course, it was very awkward, for him anyway, but especially with Barbatos just standing there and it took every fiber in your being to pull away and not stick to him like glue. “I missed you.” It was an honest sentence; you did miss him. Actually, you missed everyone, and even if it was Mammon coming to visit, you really wouldn’t have minded at this point. “I… missed you too…” Awkward as ever. You laughed softly, nudging his arm when his cheeks started to become darker than the seating area of the room. “I will leave you two alone, then.” Barbatos bowed, slowly exiting the room. 

Both of you stood there for a moment, staring at each other but keeping silent in fear of Barbatos coming back. “So… what do you think of this room?” Honestly, it wasn’t until now that the so called hardcore Otaku third-born has had a chance to really look at it, but just like you, his jaw dropped in amazement and he immediately ran around looking at everything, “You have this?! And you didn’t invite me sooner?!” “W-Well---!” “Oh my Lord Diavolo, you have the new brain-wrecker3002!! Why didn’t you tell me?!” you tried to explain several more times that you only found out about this room today, but Levi was more excited than a little kid and honestly who are you to deny him these simple pleasures? “If you ask nicely, I’m sure Diavolo would let you take it.” 

A loud gasp erupted from within him, his hands immediately holding onto your shoulders, “You think?!” You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction; he was more excited than a little boy during Christmas and yes, it was cute. “Yes. Maybe. I’m sure he can get another one. Doubt he would miss it. But come on! As much as I love to hear you nerd out, let’s actually play something.” Of course, that was the keyword he looked for; play. You still pondered how you were going to tell Leviathan anything without it being too obvious, or at least in a way that took anyone else a while to figure out. “Levi… Let’s play Mario Kart.” Confusion strung across his face, “what? You have all these amazing games and you want to play Mario Kart?” You nodded, smiling softly as to hide the seriousness of why you would want to play it. In your mind, it made sense. In your mind, it would work out. And in your mind, Leviathan would catch on sooner or later, hopefully at least. “Yes. I want to play Mario Kart, you know? Take a trip down memory lane.” Leviathan frowned but he also knew that he was in no position to fight you. If you were unhappy, he had to take it up with Diavolo and that’s something he doesn’t necessarily want to deal with, “Okay…But we’ll play other things too, right?” You chuckled.

It took you a while to figure out exactly how you wanted to do this. You knew you could turn and mess yourself up in pretty much any way, but you needed it to be discreet. That’s where you were grateful for Levi’s competitiveness and his quick thinking on banana peels. Every time he threw one at you, you barely dodged it, and every once in a while you would hit a few back to back, four back to back to be specific. Instead of just spinning out of control and moving on, though, you somehow managed to pull through with your plan. H. E. L. P. The last letter was the hardest one but after doing the same pattern twice, Levi caught on. No one can say again he’s just a dumb Otaku. He side-eyed you, giving you a raised eyebrow, but all you could really do was discreetly nod and hope he believed you. After that, you continued to mess up a few more times so as to not draw suspicion. “Let’s… change the game. This might be a trip down memory lane for you, but it’s boring to me if you’re so terrible at it and I keep beating you.” 

You pouted, nudging him again, “fine… I had fun though.” Levi chuckled this time, obviously nervous, “I did too… let’s maybe try and play---!” “Leviathan!” A cold shiver ran down your spine and from the looks of it, it ran down Levi’s too. The poor demon didn’t even have time to turn around before Diavolo engulfed him in a hug, “hghn…!!! T-too tight, Lord...Diavolo…” Diavolo let go of him with a laugh, turning to you and reaching out his hand. Of course, you took it so he could pull you up. “Did you have fun?” You could feel Leviathan’s nervousness mingle with your own, but you smiled up at him nonetheless, “Yes! Levi beat me pretty much every game, but I’m just glad we got to hang out.” Levi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “You tried your best… It’s just hard to beat the best.” You looked at Levi with disbelief before sticking your tongue out at him, a gesture which he returned. “Whatever. Keep telling yourself that. I let you win.” “Hah!” He genuinely laughed at you, and for a moment you debated on taking offense, but he was your only hope so you let it slide.

“Well, I’m glad you two had fun. Please do tell me anytime you two want to do it again. I hate to leave my darling all by herself, and seeing as you two are such good friends, I think you should come around more often.” It seemed too nice. He was being too nice. A facade he put up in front of others, but you knew all too well what lied beneath. “O-Of course! Thank you, Lord Diavolo.” It was awkward after that, with the two only smiling at each other, Diavolo’s grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Barbatos cleared his throat, “My Lord, I will be escorting Leviathan back to his house now.” You quickly let go of Diavolo’s hand to hug Levi one more time, which he returned almost too stiffly. “It was good to see you… “ You mumbled, before letting go and watching him walk off with Barbatos, hoping that he could deliver the message. 

[tellywoodtrash]

Aajkal we've all been bitching and moaning quiteeee a lot at you. So thoda positive ask for a change! In your personal opinion as an ITV veteran, who'd you give these awards to?

1) Most root-able ML

2) Most root-able FL

3) Favorite couple to ship (warm and fuzzy category)

4) Favorite couple to ship (angst category)

5) TV show with most coherent handling of plotlines

6) TV show best at maintaining character consistency

(This is intended to be a fun question to hopefully take you on a trip down memory lane to revisit shows and characters you enjoyed, and not intended to feel like homework! So please feel free to ignore or answer on your own time! ❤️)

Oh man, thank you for that disclaimer in the end. So often I get asks like these and it feels kind of like an assignment for school that sits and niggles at me till I post the answer. Your consideration is muchhhhh appreciated! 🤗🤗🤗💖💖💖

Here are myyyyyy awards!!!!!!!!!! 

Most root-able ML: Neil Khanna (Naamkarann)

Man, Neil was genuinely such a good bean. As much as I watched of the show (till the entry of Vidyut), he was just an all-round nice person who was a good son to his family, a good friend, and a good partner to Avni. He does get mad at Avni for some of her choices, but communicates that clearly to her and supports her in whatever decisions she makes (if she bothers telling him, that is.) I really really liked Neil as a character and it’s why I stuck with the show as much as I managed to.

Most root-able FL: Gauri Kumari Sharma (DBO/Ishqbaaaz)

I just spent all of today morning and afternoon indoctrinating @jalebi-weds-bluetooth into the world of IB and man.............. Gauri as a character. Phew. She goes through so much and still has such a right head on her shoulders. The way she empathizes with Omkara for his messed up life, but refuses to put up with his bullshit beyond a point is just fucking goals for every single FL out there.

Favorite couple to ship (warm and fuzzy category): Sid/Ishani (Sanjivani)

I refuse to acknowledge anything in that show after the Jessie/Jiggy wedding. As far as I know, Sid and Ishani got together after that night they spent flirting/dancing with each other and lived happily ever after, eating parathas together till the end of time.

*Special Mention to Shivika in OU of Ishqbaaaz and Rikara in the Redux.

Favorite couple to ship (angst category): Omkara/Gauri (DBO/Ishqbaaaz)

Everything they went through, from supernatural, to human fuckery, to just plain mental/emotional turmoil, and the way they came outta it strongerrrrrrrrrrrr????? Ugh, my hearttttttttttt. Again, the day was spent regaling @jalebi-weds-bluetooth with Rikara tales and sighhhhhhhhh. This - lbr, sometimes weirddddd af couple arc was worth it in the end, because of the Bareilly plotline and how it was handled from the writing, to the acting, to the aesthetics...... Just *chef’s kiss*

TV show with most coherent handling of plotlines: IPKNND

This show remains so popular and iconic because it holds up well narratively. Something that can be said for very few tellywood shows.

TV show best at maintaining character consistency: IPKKND

For this we should paaon-padke thank Sobti for leaving when he did, warna the makers fully would have destroyed the characters given the time, as they’d started to do with the Sheetal track (Khushi being weird, Arnav being uncharacteristically mean leading to the Mrs. India track......) But thankfully, the show did end where it did and we just need to ignore the last 2 tracks and the character consistency (along with their growth!) holds up well.

Thanks so much for the fun ask, friend! Your compassionate manner of asking made this a joyful thing to do, rather than something that stressed me out!🥰🥰🥰

[joonsdiary]

worth fighting for (05)

pairing: jungkook x female reader genre/warning: a pinch of fluff, a dash of angst / royalty au, historical au / tw: the constant yearning is ever omnipresent, oc/reader in constant denial, would probably consider this slowburn word count: 5,559

summary: fresh out of the perils of war, jungkook didn’t think that his task as the newly appointed general would be to look after you.

                                                                       FIVE.

“No, you need to grip it harder.”

You roll your eyes at Jungkook’s command but follow his instructions anyway. Beads of sweat roll down the nape of your neck but you pay it no mind, focused on the task at hand — so to speak. Getting down and dirty is not a current concern for you; either way, you’re due for a bath soon. You lick your lips as you stare at him, eager to gauge his reaction. The general has proven to be hard to please, but you intend to impress. You did not want him to think you’re going into this blindly and without experience.

The anticipation in Jungkook’s eyes is palpable as he awaits your movement.

You charge towards him and swing deftly at his direction, which he dodges with unbridled swiftness. Clenching your jaw, you grip the sword’s handle as instructed seconds prior and turn to swing at him once more. Instead of avoiding it, he raises his right hand to block your sword with his. The unmistakable echo of clashing metals gains two pairs of eyes who look up from their task to witness the event.

“Good. You’re already getting better.” Jungkook pants as he lowers his weapon. You mirror his actions as a small grin creeps its way up to your lips. Not too far from where you stand, Jimin and Miyoung clap encouragingly. Jimin hollers for extra effect and you face to wave at them before bowing, earning a louder applause.

You chuckle at their antics and face Jungkook, curtsying towards him as you do. He knows it isn’t meant to be a serious gesture, so he waves you off, nodding his head with a look of encouragement apparent on his face.

It took several days of convincing before Jungkook agreed to teach you the basics of sword fighting. He wasn’t too keen on the idea — and you have a feeling he will never warm up to it despite agreeing — especially since he knows your father does not approve.

“But the king isn’t here to stop either one of us, is he?” You reasoned with him one morning when he had been busy embarking the carriage with extra supplies. You had all agreed to stop by a small village, taking precautions to conceal your true identity.

(It has been easy for Jimin and Miyoung, not so much for you and Jungkook. But you manage, nonetheless.)

“I just know he would not approve,” Jungkook murmurs, followed by a quiet, and how dare you speak of your father in that manner? He does not look at you, too focused on securing the blankets so they won’t fall as you continue trekking the bumpy roads.

“He had no problem when Hoseok taught me,” you attempt to reason with him. “Plus, it’s only been three days since your injury, and you’re still not at your full capability. You could use an extra hand.”

“But you’re supposed to be the one who needs protecting,” he seethes. You can tell he wishes for you to drop the matter.

You won’t budge, of course.

Stubborn as a mule, or so Jimin puts it. You’re aware he means it as a form of endearment but being compared to an animal never felt like a compliment.

He makes his way to the front of the carriage where the horses are and asks Jimin if he’s all settled. The older nods and grins, cheekbones protruding and eyes shifting to adorable tiny crescents. Jungkook turns to you once more.

“What happens if you’re the one who gets injured next time?”

You try not to read too much in the way his eyes gazed into yours, round and filled with worry. Ignoring the rapid thundering of your heart against your rib cage, you shrug. Feigning nonchalance always seems to work.

“I know I won’t be harmed if I learn from the best, right?”

The statement was untrue – Jungkook’s injuries are a testament that no matter how skilled one is in combat, they’re still human, and therefore vulnerable. But you figure boosting his ego will do the trick.

So, here you are on your second day of practice, trying to shake the rust off your joints. You still remember some of the moves Hoseok taught you; it’s just a matter of trusting your instinct as you continue sparring with Jungkook. Although he hasn’t made you learn anything too complicated yet, his reason being that he is technically still injured. He argues that moving around puts too much strain on himself.

Yet you see him carry loads of heavy items all the time. He sets up the tents, starts the fires, and occasionally tends the horses. You know he isn’t by any means holding you back – it’s just a matter of trying to coax him into teaching you more difficult movements. The man is easily swayed with words, after all.

“Your Highness!” Miyoung calls out and waves at you. “Are you ready?”

“I’ll be right there,” you shout back, before turning to Jungkook to hand him the sword. “Thank you for today.”

He grunts in response and motions for you to lean it against the rock as he carefully cleans his with a cloth. There is a sudden pause, more on your part, unsure which parting words to say to him.

Do you just leave? Or does the situation warrant some sort of goodbye? See you later, perhaps? The schedule for today did not guarantee that you’ll see him again in a one-on-one situation any time soon and saying see you later seemed way too informal. So, after thoroughly searching your brain for something, you come up with —

“I’m going to bathe now,” you announce aloud.

His expression morphs into a grin at your revelation and you berate yourself mentally. It’s not like you needed to declare it to him as if he already didn’t know. Now it just seems like you’re trying to invite him to go into the lake with you as if to say – ‘I’m going to bathe now; would you like to join me?’

Idiotic, pea brain, airhead —

His chuckle interrupts your thoughts, a deep rumble that comes from the back of his throat, sending your nerves in a frenzy for reasons unknown to yourself.

“I know.” Gods, you’re itching to smack the haughtiness out of his face. “Do you wish for me to join you?”

“I knew you would say that.” You roll your eyes despite the warmth creeping from your neck up to your cheeks. You are probably a whole tomato right about now. “I just said it because I wanted to make sure you’re aware, in case something terrible happens.”

Not quite. But you slipped up and you’ll rather make up a believable lie than admit otherwise.

“You didn’t say no.” He taunts you; the small grin now forms a smile that occupies his whole face. “I’ll take that as a go-ahead —”

“No, you degenerate.”

Jungkook grins as he watches you stomp away, grumbling to yourself about god knows what. He pinches his hot earlobes, hoping you didn’t notice their bright crimson tint.

//

“You seem to be having fun, Your Highness,” Miyoung drawls on the last two words, her tone teasing. Your stare is cold, but you realize you genuinely have no idea what she could be referring to, so your brows knit in confusion. She moves behind you, grabbing the strings of your dress before pulling it tight, drawing a hiss from you. Realizing she hasn’t answered your cause for confusion, you voice your concern.

“What do you mean?” You tug the damp strands of your short hair, twirling it absentmindedly between your fingers. Fun is not the word you should use to describe the events leading up to today. The conversation a few nights back after getting attacked — and you admitting that perhaps killing said attacker didn’t leave you feeling gratified — left Jungkook more distant than he usually is. It took plenty of coaxing and promises to let him teach you and although he’s hesitant to show you advanced movements, it’s infinitely better than nothing.

“I’m sorry I had to interrupt your alone time with the general,” she carefully loops the strings into a taut bow. You exhale out a scoff, hating how little room you had to breathe.

“It was hardly ‘alone time’, with you and Jimin so close,” the words are out of your mouth before you realize the weight of their meaning. “I didn’t mean –”

“Duly noted. If you were so privy to time spent with him, you should’ve let me know sooner.” She turns you around and you’re met with the playful glint in her eyes. You know she will not drop the subject despite your protests, as you’ve learned from her numerous taunting.

“It’s good that you’re releasing some of that tension, though,” Miyoung continues her one-woman monologue when you don’t respond. You tilt your head to one side as your eyebrows twitch. “You’re too tense around him even more than usual lately.”

“I’m not —”

“And who could blame you? With those massive shoulders of his. Don’t deny it, Your Grace. I saw how you looked at him the other day while dressing his wounds.”

“I wasn’t —”

“I mean, the man stands as if he’s a mountain daring to be climbed. Don’t mind if I do.”

“Miyoung!” Your voice is apprehensive, hoping it’s enough to chastise her. But it had been too late; the images you’ve been trying to push out have seared themselves into every nook and cranny of your brain. You’re reminded of the way his undershirt clung onto his sweat-clad body after hours of jousting. It had been particularly difficult to keep your eyes from trailing anywhere down south of his collarbone.

The short trip down the memory lane coloured your cheeks the slightest hue of crimson. It’s enough to warrant Miyoung’s descent to a fit of giggles.

“Speak of the devil,” her attention is caught by confident footsteps behind you and you don’t even have to think twice because who else could it be? “Your meal order has arrived.”

You give her an exasperated look before spinning on your heels. Your breath catches.

You hadn’t particularly noticed how much taller he is compared to you — there was never the need to point out such obvious discrepancies or make a big deal out of them. It was a simple fact of the matter. But now that Miyoung has pointed it out, it was tough to wedge it out of your system.

It hasn’t always been that way since you’ve grown immune to her taunts about Jungkook. It reminded you of your sheer inelegance more than a month ago — when he had discovered you traipsing in the middle of the night with Luna in a feeble attempt at liberation — and how warm and sturdy he felt underneath you. How strong arms helped you up your feet, regaining the balance you had lost. How far you need to lean upon your toes to be able to reach his lips with yours. A mountain daring to be climbed.

You gulp as he approaches, his figure easily towering yours.

Miyoung asks something behind you as soon as Jungkook is within earshot, but with all the blood rushing to your eardrums it’s quite a challenge to understand anything and everything going on around you.

“I just couldn’t turn down Her Highness’s invitation for a bath, could I? Although I suppose I’d arrive a little too late.” Jungkook taunts, eyes gleaming with playfulness. But you blink up at him, mouth slightly agape and throat dry. He swipes his hair away from his face, a look of confusion replacing his frisky demeanour. Oh, how must it feel to run your fingers through his soft locks?

“Are you alright?”

The worried look on his face is enough to return you down from whatever cloud you’d been in. Face flushed, you blink up at him before giving Miyoung a slanted gaze, who is studying you with the same distressed look. Surely, you’d have said something by now. That’s how it is with you and Jungkook and your back-and-forth banter.

“I, um,” your eyes are frantic, searching for something to land on other than him. His hand reaches for yours , but you flinch back—perhaps a little too excessive as the corner of his mouth turns to a frown at your reaction.

“I need a moment.” To breathe, first and foremost.

You didn’t wait for his reply, absolving yourself of his overwhelming presence, brushing ever so slightly against his forearm as you walked past him. You frown at your reaction.

“Your Highness —” Jimin comes bumbling by, but you quickly cut him off with a terse smile.

“Enjoy your bath.”

You are absolutely floored, the wind knocked out of your lungs and all. The realization couldn’t have come at more perfect timing. Of course, you like Jungkook. Your attraction to him is palpable; you aren’t fooling anybody by continuing to deny otherwise. Not Miyoung, at least, who probably saw this long before you had.

The question is: when did I not like him? It feels like I never stopped.

You groan at your thoughts and pause mid-walk to squat low on the ground, burying your face in your warm and sweaty palms. Denial is your middle name, and that has been your game since forever. Feigning ignorance of your feelings becomes your second language to the point where you’ve deluded yourself against any form of admiration towards the said general.

I’m fooling myself. Again. You can’t bear the thought of potentially embarrassing yourself like you did many moons ago trying to get Jungkook to watch that stupid play with you.

At least you’re not in denial any longer. Suppressing your feelings might be better in hindsight now that you’re aware of them.

…Or maybe not.

How naïve of you to think that pretending your feelings didn’t exist — despite being fully aware of them — is a better alternative to any other option. But you’re not one to back down from any challenge.

The next few days are not exactly breezy.

There’s the usual bit of travelling, the occasional settling down when the weather isn’t too great, then more travelling. You’re growing accustomed to the little schedule you have going on. Except Jungkook has increased your training hours. And even though it had been your goal to be taught by him, he hasn’t given you much to work with, either. It had been the same tiresome dance over and over again.

True to her word, both Miyoung and Jimin did not linger within earshot every time you practiced with Jungkook. Turns out being in close proximity to the very person you’re attracted to when you’re trying hard to close yourself off to those same feelings can backfire. Hard.

“You’re too tense,” Jungkook utters, seemingly out of the blue. But you know it’s not a random observation. He circles you, one hand clasped behind his back and the other holding a wooden sword. He insists that you practice with props recently, citing that you’ve been ‘too preoccupied in your daydreams recently’ and that ‘it’s too dangerous to spar with real swords if you’re distracted.’ Yeah. Whatever. You’re too tired, both physically and emotionally, to argue with anything Jungkook says, so you go along with what he decides for the sake of your inner peace.

“Why does everybody keep saying that?” You snap at him unintentionally. His eyebrows quirk up in interest and your heart hammers wildly in your chest.

“Oh, so it’s not just me that noticed.”

There’s a pause, and you watch him carefully from the corner of your eyes, gauging whether he’ll strike at the very moment or not. He doesn’t, and in your impatience, you attempt to take a jab on his torso which he dodges with finesse. He grabs your arm and twists it in a way that does not hurt so much as to unhand you of your weapon. You wince, nonetheless, and he quickly let go.

“You need to be patient. You’re going to get hurt attacking blindly like that.”

“I know,” you mumble, fingers skimming lightly over your wrist. They burn, not because his touch is painful, but because his hand feels soft, leaving lingering feelings in the pit of your stomach. That is something that has been happening a lot as well. Any sort of physical contact with him makes you feel inebriated as if you’d puke all the contents of your stomach from a mere touch.

“What is it that has you so wound up like a tight rope lately?” Jungkook attempts to circle back to the conversation as you pick up your wooden weapon.

You do, you almost say out loud. But you keep your lips sealed shut and get into position instead. You wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, to demand an explanation to how he has managed to pull your heart right out of your chest and dangle it teasingly in front of your face. Out of reach. Your poor, poor heart. Give it back, you thief.

“How cruel,” you find yourself muttering loud enough for Jungkook to hear.

“Hm?”

He straightens up as if he’s ready to soak in all you have to say. To be fair, you haven’t given the man much to work with, opting to shut him out completely. You don’t make a conversation when it’s not necessary and only spend time with him during practices. It’s not like there is a need to do so outside of it, anyway. Despite your current circumstance, you’ve attempted to the best of your ability to stay as far away from him as you possibly can.

Which makes your current situation laughable. Alone in the middle of a dense grassland, surrounded by the wind and the mountains that stretch miles and miles away. You and him.

“I said, you’re cruel for overworking me. I don’t remember agreeing to increased practice time.”

“I don’t remember you opposing it, either.” He wears an easy smile, which ticks you off even further.

You inhale between your gritted teeth and take another jab at his torso, this time accidentally hitting the wound that’s only beginning to heal. He grimaces in obvious pain and panic surges through your veins. You quickly drop your wooden sword as you approach him with caution, unsure of where to place your hands so you hover like a half-wit.  

“I — Jungkook — I didn’t mean to, I swear.” You lower your hands, wringing them together as your head bows in shame. He exhales a short chuckle and your breath catches at your throat at his unexpected reaction. You expect to be reprimanded for being so careless.

“Good thing we opted for these rather than the real thing, huh? You would have had to stitch me up all over again.”

His placid attitude did nothing but put a wrench in your heart, squeezing it painfully. You almost wish he’d lash out at you, just so the task of pushing him away came easier. Why won’t you let me hate you?

“You’re doing that a lot lately, too.”

Startled by his words, you look up at him and meet gaze for the first time in a while, unwavering. Oh, how easy it is to lose all trails of thoughts as you navigate your way through the depths of his eyes.

“You’re distant — unfocused. You’re jittery and nervous all the time. You mumble a lot, which is frankly starting to become irritating.”

He closes the distance between the two of you, eyes scanning you with curiosity. His piercing gaze disarms you, rooting you to your spot.

“You haven’t been shy before when you berate me to my face, loud enough for all the world to hear. What’s stopping you now?”

Jungkook grins, teasing. He was trying to get a reaction out of you; picking your brain for some sort of response. Is that what he thought you’d been saying under your breath recently? That you’re badmouthing him? It’s not exactly your fault either that it turns out you’ve been mumbling some of your thoughts out loud.

But you do not dare give him the satisfaction of an answer, knowing that you’ll just continue circling one another. The only difference is he’ll leave unscathed, while you stay to pick up the pieces of your shattered feelings. So, no, you are not about to lay bare for him to step all over your poor feelings.

Lay bare.

You want to slap yourself at the image you’ve mentally drawn. Now is not the appropriate time for such scandalous thoughts. Or ever.

“I lost you again just now, didn’t I?”

You manage a tight smile. Guilty as charged. Jungkook doesn’t return the favour, however, his forehead creasing in confusion — or is it worry? You did not want to dwell on the thought for too long.

Jungkook shifts his weight between his legs, swaying back and forth slowly. It’s clear that he has a lot on his mind, so you wait for him to speak.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

Your eyebrows arched, eyes questioning. It seems like a running theme now — him talking while you refuse to say anything.

“About this whole,” Jungkook pauses, hands gesturing aimlessly like a mime, “…arrangement. We’ve only been travelling for a little more than a week. It’s not too late to return and ask your father to reconsider everything.”

You shake your head, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Tempting, but no. It’s not like I have a choice,” your tongue slips, not intending to say the last sentence out loud.

You pray he didn’t catch any of what you’ve said, but the devastated look on his face tells you otherwise. He steps close enough that you feel his warm breath on your forehead. The smell of firewood and soap intertwines, and you presume he’s wearing a freshly washed shirt. Your head begins to spin as your knees weaken, threatening to give out at that moment.

Be still, heart.

You clear your throat and gather your wits before taking a step back, the tall grass tickling the back of your legs.

“What I mean is that I’ve made up my mind. I can’t just back out now; the implications would be devastating. Not just for me, but the whole country.” For you, too.

The thought of Jungkook being swept away to another war was too much for your mind to wrap around. You couldn’t possibly do that. Not to him. The possibility of sacrificing more lives senselessly when you’re

Jungkook’s mouth opens like he’s about to say something, but you shake your head once more as if to say we’re done talking about this. You know Jungkook understands; he’s one of the few people whose sense of duty comes before anything and anybody else.

That’s why the next words that come out of his mouth knock you off balance.

“Would it hurt for you to be selfish and put your needs before others?”

*  *  *

Jungkook blinks back in surprise. He has no idea where that statement stems from. But it felt appropriate to say, courtesy be damned. He wasn’t speaking as a general giving advice to the princess, but rather from one friend to another.

Since when were we friends, anyway? The thought sends a funny feeling to Jungkook’s stomach.

He can tell that you’re just as surprised as him, and for a split second, he can sense your vulnerability. He hadn’t witnessed it when the king bore you the news of your demise, and you didn’t show flashes of weakness either when you were almost kidnapped. He had always known you to be strong-willed, independent, and resolutely stubborn. A force to be reckoned with.

The thought makes Jungkook chuckle, and you eye him with suspicion.  

“What’s so funny, Jeon?” Any hint of weakness along with the heaviness of his statement vanishes as you snap at him. That particular conversation, it seems, will need to be shelved for another day.

Jungkook dips his chin, opting to answer your question with an inquisition of his own. He isn’t quite finished with you just yet.

“Is that all there is to it, though? You’re peeved about the increase in training hours?”

He’s unsure of what your answer will be. But even if you’d ask, he wouldn’t reveal that he was doing this with the intention of finding out why you’d been distant lately; more than what he’s used to, anyway. He hadn’t even noticed how much time you spent with him until you began avoiding him. Gone are the days of jabs and banter and are replaced with silence and brooding; a total opposite of that one moment you shared your aversion to violence and reluctance to hurt people. You had shared your concerns and broke down your defences only to build them back up again.

Is he wrong to assume that in the few weeks you’d spend together, some sort of friendship was formed? It appears so, seeing the way you expertly dodged his every attempt to close the gap — both literally and figuratively.

He tries to test his theory by stepping forward. As if on cue, you take one step back. The desire to keep you at arm’s length brews within him, the feeling intensifying at your every attempt to evade him. He wanted nothing more than to grab you by the arm and shake both your shoulders, demanding an answer to the question that had been driving him mad the past couple of days.

So, he does exactly that. You yelp in surprise, but his vice-like grip remains. He accepts your lack of protest as consent and doesn’t let go.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

As his eyes search your frantic ones, his mind wanders to a particular memory that sets this whole thing off. It evidently has something to do with whatever he’s said or done because he didn’t observe the same change in demeanour with Miyoung and Jimin. He’s the problem—that much he knows of. He comes up empty, however; there had been nothing he said or did you that stood out to him in particular.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jeon,” you croak, voice pitched and unnatural. “If I was avoiding you, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, but not physically. You’ve been out of it lately. Care to elaborate?”

Jungkook needs to know. If he had so much offended you in any capacity, he wants to make sure to do right by you. But apparently, you have other plans. With your mouth set in a straight line, your head shakes from one side to another. What was it about him admiring your tenacity for stubbornness? There are times he wishes for you to give in and not resist so much.

“Do you mind?”

Your voice is meek, a mere whisper, and it’s enough to snap him out of his stupor. Frowning, he retreats his hands, letting them fall nimbly on his side.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he sighs and his heart wrenches as he steps back. “If you really don’t want to share it, I won’t pry.”

You nod, visibly relaxing. He picks up the discarded wooden sword and continues. “But you have to stop being so…rigid. It’s not going to make it easier for you. Or for me.”

He grins, pointing at his lower torso. If you weren’t going to let him in on whatever secret you have, he at least hopes to smooth away some tension.

“You deserve it,” your eyes glimmer with humour. She’s back.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm,” you nod fervently, grabbing the sword from him. “For overworking me. I’m still royalty, you know.”

“That you are,” he resists the urge to tousle your hair playfully. “But if I remember correctly, your exact words to me were: ‘Don’t treat me any differently than you would any other trainee.’”

Your lips purse, gaze scanning him dubiously. “You got me there.”

There’s a beat of silence before you speak again.

“I didn’t mean to, though.” Your eyes fill with worry as you eye his torso, and Jungkook fears you’d spiral once again and close off on him.

He shrugs in good nature and slips his hand underneath his shirt, feeling for the bandage. The worries which stemmed from that event that led him to believe he’s unqualified for this task are beginning to feel foreign and far away as the skin of his wound slowly heals.

Yet he couldn’t help but ask.

“Why the sudden interest in brandishing swords? Do you truly deem me unfit to protect you after I got hurt?”

He didn’t mean to sound defensive, but it does bruise his ego a lot more than he’d like to admit. He wants to save you the trouble of aching muscles and hours wasted on practice, but you somehow cannot accept ‘no’ for an answer. He feels almost cheated for being coaxed to coach you.

“I never said you were,” your tone is clipped. “I thought we’ve already gone over this. You need all the help you can get, especially if we come across something like that again.”

“You’re a better archer. It’s safer, too. It puts you at a distance from potential attackers.” Jungkook presses.

“Would it hurt to know about sword fighting?” You challenge him, and the air of friendliness vanishes once more.

“Yes, it would,” Jungkook deadpans, pointing to the spot where his injury is healing. “As I said, proximity when it comes to close combat proves to be more d—”

“You think arrows are any safer? In case you forgot, I killed somebody with it,” your voice rises as you get closer to him.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! You need to play up to your strengths. Stick with what you’re good at,” he reasons, trying not to raise his voice out of respect. There’s a pause in the conversation, and Jungkook thinks you’ve dropped the subject.

Although the silence is short-lived. “Is that why you refuse to teach me anything beyond the basic skills?” your gaze is filled with anger, your every word laced with frustration.

“Yes,” Jungkook says earnestly, but fear pools in the pit of his stomach. It was the first time he felt that perhaps he should have opted to not tell the truth. But he can no longer take those three letters back, no matter how much he wants to. He’s starting to feel torn between his own decisions; making you angry had not been his intention.

“You’re not making any sense. You said I was brave.” Jungkook watches your lips move, but the words barely register in his brain.

“You are,” he says, almost exasperatedly. The back and forth dance between both of you is beginning to carve his patience thin. The air hums with intensity as neither one of you is willing to back down.

“You say that yet you won’t teach me advanced combat,” you assert defiantly.

His temper ignites as he grits his teeth as his jaw clenches with indignation. But he is teaching you. Maybe not in the way you wanted, but he’s still making the effort. What will it take for you to understand that he is merely trying to keep you from getting hurt?

“Either you trust me to be able to handle it, or you think I’m too delicate to be taught. It can’t be both, General Jeon.”

Oh, so you are back to being formal with him. Jungkook resists the urge to roll his eyes. “The answer is still going to be a no.”

He turns, wanting to leave the conversation, but your next words have him rooted to the ground.

“Hoseok wouldn’t have kept me from learning. I wish he was still here.”

“Yeah, well, I wish it had been me who died instead of him, too.” Jungkook answers without missing a beat, the phrase tasting rancid in his mouth.

Jungkook knows he will never eclipse his brother. Not in talent. Not in the outpour of attention he got from his parents. Not in his easy-going nature that has people enamoured by him. Most certainly not in your adoration for him.

How does one compete with a dead person? He chuckles bitterly at the thought.

He keeps his back to you, shielding you away from the storm brewing in his eyes. He attempts to blink back the tears pooling in his lashes as he focuses on the horizon.

“Jungkook, I —”

He begins to walk away before you can get another word in. Somewhere deep in the crevices of his mind, the thought of wanting to be held back swims without restraint. For you to reach out, hold him, and tell him it was going to be alright.

But the reality is much harsher than the tiny little daydreams in his head, and you make no attempt to stop him in his tracks. Each step he takes feels as if he’s being dragged deeper into quicksand; he simply can’t escape the dread that follows.

Given the choice between having his heart ripped out from his chest for the second time in his life or getting stabbed in the torso, Jungkook thinks he prefers the latter.

— prev ; next ; series masterlist

taglist: @apurpledheart @mygukandonly @fan-ati--c 

[spnirwin]

Something Beautiful

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word Count: 1,900

Warnings: Mentions of death

A/N: Here’s a small dose of angst for your Saturday night! I apparently love making people feel a little sad, myself included. But hey, who doesn’t love a comforting Eddie?!

“Seriously, you guys, just shut up!” you said to your friends. You rolled your eyes at the six people whose faces were scrunched together on your phone screen. They were all vying for your attention, shouting over one another for a chance to be heard. 

“All I’m saying is,” your friend Casey said as she ripped the phone away from the others, “that you should give it a chance. Even if it turns into a one night thing.”

You shook your head in response to her suggestion. “I am absolutely not joining Tinder. And besides, I don’t…” you trailed off into silence. 

“You have to try again eventually.” Casey’s voice had softened while she spoke. “You can’t hang on to Jack forever. It’s been almost a year now.”

“Listen, I’m just not ready, okay?” you said, frustration seeping into your voice. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, it’s almost time for my shift.”

Casey took the phone back over to the rest of your friends as you stepped out of your car. You grabbed your duffle from the backseat and began walking up the driveway to the 118. Your friends continued chattering at you as you stepped inside, reached your locker, and began setting your things inside. 

“Hey guys, I gotta go,” you said, interrupting the current story being told. After another minute full of goodbyes and “I love you’s,” you finally hung up the phone. 

“They seem like a rowdy bunch,” said a voice beside you. You jumped, not realizing anyone was there. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Eddie chuckled. 

“It’s okay,” you replied, slightly breathless. “Yeah, they’re loud but they’re pretty great. They’re my old crew from back in Florida, actually.”

“Oh.” Eddie raised his eyebrows in slight surprise. “I didn’t realize you still spoke to them.”

“We’re pretty close. A little distance isn’t going to change that.” You shrugged, turning to face Eddie fully. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you leave Florida then? It clearly wasn’t a work issue,” he said, gesturing towards your phone. He seemed genuinely curious, but you weren’t ready to give him a straight answer. 

“I was running,” you said softly. “But that’s a story for a different time.” 

Eddie gave you a knowing look. “If you ever want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

You gave him a small smile before turning and walking out of the room. As you went you reached up, searching for the chain hanging around your neck. When you found it you gripped the ring it was attached to, an instant feeling of calm washing over you. 

—

The 118 had been the place you called home for three months now. You had been convinced that a fresh start was what you needed, but being away from all of your friends and family in Florida had taken its toll on you. Your new crew had seen you struggling and taken it upon themselves to help ease your transition.

The level of gratitude you felt towards them for that act of kindness was unparalleled, but you felt guilty at the same time. They had no idea they were only getting a surface level version of you. You had walls built up so high that they didn’t even have a chance of reaching the real you on the other side. 

“So, you got any fun plans after shift?” You looked up from the journal you were scribbling in as Buck slid into the seat across the table from you. You were sitting in the kitchen, with everyone else in various positions throughout the room. 

“Nope, not today,” you replied. “I’ll probably just go home and catch up on some things I’ve been putting off. Like the massive pile of laundry sitting next to the washing machine.”

“Oh, come on!” Buck threw his hands up in exasperation. “It’s Saturday, you should be doing something fun. At least come out with us tonight. We’re going over to that bar on 24th Street to grab some beers. It’ll be fun.” He waggled his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes in response. 

“You should definitely come!” Hen agreed as she walked by. 

“Yeah, you never hang out with us!” Chimney’s voice had a noticeable whine to it and you found yourself on the verge of another eyeroll. 

“Lay off guys,” Eddie piped up from his position on the couch. “She’ll join if she wants to. I’m sure you pressuring her doesn’t make her want to come any more.”

You shot him a grateful look and he smiled in response. When you turned back to Buck you found him smiling, a hopeful look in his eyes. 

“We’ll see,” you sighed, and, sensing victory, he pumped his fist in the air. 

—

You took a deep breath as you approached the bar. Pausing in front of the doors, you looked up at the sign. It was named “Jack’s,” and you shook your head. It seemed there was no escape no matter how many miles you traveled. 

With another deep inhale you reached forward and pulled open the door. You spotted everyone immediately. They were the largest, loudest group in the small bar. You stepped into the room and caught the eye of Bobby. He shouted and waved you over and you complied, crossing the room quickly. 

You slipped into an empty seat next to Eddie as everyone greeted you. As you got settled he leaned closer and whispered to you. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Me too,” you replied with a smile. 

As the night progressed you found yourself loosening up with every sip of beer. By the time 10:00 had rolled around, mostly everyone had dispersed to various corners of the room to play pool or darts. Only you and Eddie remained seated at the table, chairs now turned to face each other. 

“So, are you ready to tell me that story yet?” Eddie inquired, shooting you a look. 

You sighed, picking at the label on your beer bottle. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“You’re gonna have to tell it eventually, right?” Why not now? It’s just us here.” You looked up at him and found him looking back at you earnestly. 

“Okay,” you said, setting your beer down on the table. You chose your words carefully, unsure of where to begin. “When I graduated from the academy four years ago, I got super lucky with my placement. I got put at a firehouse in Tampa, Station 154. The crew there was amazing. They welcomed me into their family instantly, not unlike you guys.” You paused, gesturing around you. 

Eddie nodded with a smile and you continued. “I fit in there well, and grew to love each and every member of that crew. Some more than others.” A short laugh huffed out of you. “I started dating one of the other firefighters, Jack. He was my entire world. It was the best day of my life when he proposed to me. And then he died.” 

The words rushed out of you, unstoppable now that they had started. “It was a car accident. He didn’t even get to go out on duty. No, instead it was a thunderstorm. He hydroplaned, and it sent him into the other lane.” 

Despite your best efforts at holding them back, tears began to drip slowly down your cheeks. Eddie reached out and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “After that I saw him everywhere I looked. In our apartment, at work, at the grocery store. No matter where I went memories followed. I knew that if I wanted to survive Jack’s death I needed a fresh start. So I did what millions of people have done, and I came to LA.”

“Hey, I get it,” Eddie said. “I did the same exact thing, you know that.” You looked over at him and nodded. He had told you the story of how he and his son, Christopher, came to be in LA a while ago. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. Losing someone you love is never easy, but I’m proud of you for having the strength to tell me about it.”

A few more tears slipped down your cheeks as you gave him a small smile. “Thanks for listening. I haven’t talked to anyone about it that didn’t experience it with me. Saying it out loud like that definitely helped.” 

“I’m glad,” he said. “Hey...I have an idea. Want to get out of here? I have something I want to show you that I think will make you feel a little better.”

—

Twenty minutes later you were walking with Eddie down Santa Monica Pier. Despite having been in California for months, you hadn’t explored anything outside of the neighborhood surrounding your apartment. While you looked around you in awe, Eddie looked only at you. Despite having gone through some trials of his own, he couldn’t believe how strong you continued to be after losing your fiancé. 

You spent three hours exploring the pier, walking around and talking. As the night stretched on towards 2 AM Eddie made the executive decision to head home. He drove you straight to your apartment, declaring that it was too late for you to drive and he would help you get your car in the morning. 

He pulled up to your apartment building and put his truck in park. You took off your seatbelt, simultaneously turning to face him. “Thank you for tonight. I didn’t realize how much I needed this. I haven’t felt this at peace in a long time.”

You reached out and laced your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He smiled in response, no words needed. 

You pulled your hand away from his and opened the door. “Drive safe, okay?” you said before closing the door and walking into your building. 

He watched you walk up the steps and made sure the doors closed safely behind you before driving away. 

—

Over the course of the next several weeks you found yourself growing closer to Eddie with every waking minute you spent together. It was as if the night on the pier was a turning point and you were now sliding closer to something beautiful. 

You found yourself engaging in hidden looks and discreet touches throughout the course of your shifts together. Eddie was letting you take the reins, and for that you were appreciative. You hadn’t expected to be feeling this way for someone again so soon, but here you were anyway. 

You were once again standing outside of your apartment building, this time with Eddie joining you on the front steps. He was dropping you off after one of your now standard post-shift breakfasts. 

“Did you hear anything I just said?” he chuckled. 

“What?” You snapped back to reality and looked into Eddie’s amused eyes. “Sorry, I was just thinking about how I really want to kiss you right now.”

You took a step towards him and his smile faded into a more serious expression. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, a concerned look in his eyes. 

You nodded as you stepped impossibly closer. “Positive.” 

He smiled as you leaned up and pressed your lips to his for the first time, a new beginning on the horizon. 

—

[girlofmanyfandoms]

We All Have Storms

A/n: So I finally finished it, and I tried to work on my imagery, sorry that it sucks! My Marellinh fic is next, so bully me into finishing that, mkay, enjoy!

Word count: 3794

Trigger Warnings: Brief homophobia scene

Warnings: some of my editing was deleted, so if it says ditto bug in there somewhere, I forgot to delete it

Writing taglist: @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @holesinmyfalseconfidence @percabetn @an-absolute-travesty  @linhamon-roll @holesinmyfalseconfidence @linhamon2 @a-lonely-tatertot @loverofallthingssmart @vibing-in-the-void @clearlykeefitz

“Thanks again for coming over, Keefe,” Fitz called over his shoulder as he lugged a bin onto the carpet in between them.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“Are you kidding, Fitzy?” Keefe started emptying out its contents, seeming particularly interested in the box of Prattles pins. “This is a trip down memory lane. And besides, I could hardly miss the preparation for my best friend’s Winnowing Gala.”

“Ugh, how do you say that so casually? I feel like the weight of the world’s on my shoulders. That name is taboo.”

Keefe sighed. He didn’t really want to talk about the upcoming event - it made him uncomfortable and feel wrong in so many ways. He was in a battle between being proudly there for his friend and yelling for him to call it off. But there was no way around it.

“Tell me something. Do you feel like the weight of the world’s on your shoulders? Or the weight of the Vacker Legacy?”

Fitz pulled out a snow globe that he got as a souvenir from Tokyo and shook it aggressively. “Ok, that’s another phrase on the Not To Be Spoken List.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Fitz sighed loudly and threw his hands in the air in frustration. Keefe caught the snow globe with one hand and shoved the bin the the side, scooting closer to him.

“I-I’m s-sorry, that wasn’t directed towards you, I-“

Keefe pressed a finger to Fitz’s lips, making him turn bright red. Keefe noticed and smirked a bit, but he told his inner voice to shut up. Don’t get your hopes up, Keefe. “Yeah, I know. I get it, dude, way more than you think. You don’t want to live your life being pressured to confine yourself to a perfect preppy boy who marries someone at the top of his match list so that he can gain the approval of family members and make a power baby. You don’t want your name to define you, so you try to let out your pain and your fears however you can.”

Fitz was stunned at how perfectly he had described his situation, and in such few words, yet he felt a pang of sympathy. “It must be difficult being a Sencen.”

“It must be stressful being a Vacker.”

“Now you’re avoiding the question.”

“You didn’t ask one.”

Fitz hesitated. Was he treading on dangerous grounds? Or was this just what a friend would do? “It was insinuated. I was asking what you’re struggling with in the Sencen family. And... if I can help.”

Keefe shook his head, dragging the bin back between them. “That’s not something you want to involve yourself with,” he huffed exhaustedly. “Nice rubix cube. Or at least I think that’s what Sophie called it.”

He solved it within seconds, but scrambled it again and repeated the process as Fitz watched in silence. Solved. Scrambled. Solved. Scrambled. Solved. Stopped.

Keefe raised an eyebrow. Fitz has moved closer and put his hands over Keefe’s. Neither could describe it, but all they knew was that it felt right. They met eyes for a moment, unable to move.

Why do I like this? Keefe thought to himself. I feel like we could stay like this all day. Meanwhile, all Fitz was thinking about was I hope he doesn’t hate me for getting so close, His hair really does good, and I hope my hands aren’t clammy, that would be embarrassing. Fitz pulled back abruptly and combed his hair back with his hands. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“You need to learn to stop apologizing for what isn’t your fault,” Keefe mentioned.

He laughed, relieved that the awkwardness had somewhat left the conversation. “I’ll do it when you do it.”

“No fair!” Keefe launched a pillow at him. 

Fitz was quick to grab one in defense, and soon, it was an all out war. 

It went on for a few minutes before Della peeked through the door.

“Boys, that’s no way to be on a day like this, you’re going to mess up your hair!”

“Sorry, Ms. Vacker,” Keefe said sweetly.

“Aw, you don’t need to apologize, Keefe. You’re a Vacker, too. Just make sure you two fix yourselves up.”

“But this is my signature hairstyle!”

“Then change into your other outfit and help Fitz. I’m getting Eda so she can help with the last minute preparations. You boys behave.” 

When Della walked off, Biana appeared behind her and rolled her eyes. “Boys.” But when Della has turned the corner she winked at them and ran off giggling.

Keefe tackled Fitz, and ended up straddling him. Fitz’s cheeks heated up and butterflies formed in his stomach as an alarm rang in his head, screaming This isn’t just a friends thing. He tried his best to ignore it, but the more he tried to focus on the words coming out of his mouth, the more he realized just how perfect and soft Keefe’s lips were. He gulped, hoping to distance himself from these thoughts. 

“Remember, Fitzy,” Keefe began, leaning in very close to his face. “Behave.”  

He whacked Fitz in the head with a pillow, grabbed his suit, and ran down the hall after Biana for some tips. Fitz was left shaking badly. Slowly, he sat himself up. 

“What a flirt,” he breathed, though quite out of breath. But there was no time for contemplation. One of the biggest events of his life was about to take place and he could not disappoint. He gave himself a few moments to steady his heart before taking his tailored outfit and stumbling into the bathroom. ————

Fitz groaned in annoyance for the umpteenth time that day.

“Y’know I can help you with that.”

Fitz squealed in surprise.

“Forgot I was around?”

Fitz seemed incapable of forming words, so he nodded.

“Come here,” Keefe gestured to him. “I learned how to tie a tie from Elwin, the trick is the make a huge, loose opening and swing this part over.”

Keefe finished tying it for him and patted his chest. “Done.”

“Thank you,” Fitz managed to say. He was sure Keefe was doing this on purpose now. 

And he was. Because some little part of him had hope.

———— “Want me to walk you down the aisle?” Keefe joked, knowing his friend needed a little less pressure and impending doom around him.

“Well, the crowd won’t allow you to walk out on the same time as me but...” Fitz trailed off. Was he really going to ask this?

“But what?”

“Can you hold my hand? At least until they open the curtains? I need to feel grounded.”

“Aw, I ground you? How sweet!” While his tone was teasing, his heart was jumping for joy.  

“You don’t have to-”

“No, I’ll do it,” Keefe blurted out a bit too fast. He cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t want you to feel alone on your big day.”

They interlocked fingers and Keefe felt like the floor was swaying beneath his feet. It couldn’t be. He had to be misinterpreting Fitz’s emotions. Was that joy? And happiness? And nervousness? It had to be because of the crowd chanting his name on the other side of the curtain. It had to be. 

But maybe it’s not, the voice called. Keefe pushes the thought to the side once more. He didn’t have a chance with Fitz. Boys don’t match with other boys, and there’s no way someone as kind and dorky and fun as Fitz would like a prankster artist with mommy and daddy issues. No way at all.

Keefe squeezed his hand. “You ready to go out there?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Let’s go then.” Keefe nodded to Dex, who was standing by the controls, ready to move. Dex nodded back, and deafening cheers erupted as Fitz, in his royal blue suit, came into view from beyond the real curtains. Keefe patted his back and slipped to the side to let him pass. Fitz flashed his pretty smile, masking the pain and fear. ————

“Evelyn Tanaka, I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Vacker.” The girl curtsied in front of him.

He offered a modest and seemingly genuine bow and smile. “You look lovely tonight, Ms. Tanaka.”

She swatted his arm playfully. “I’m sure you’ve told that to all the girls here.”

Fitz put his hand on his chest, playfully mocking taking offense to her comment. “Of course not, Ms. Tanaka. Us Vackers have morals, laws, and tastes. I would never be so rude as to reuse a compliment. I give them out the those who deserve it.”

Evelyn blushed and spun around so Fitz could get a full view of her dress and hair. “I take it that means that I’m to your taste?”

“Very much so. Care for a drink?” He extended his hand and she gladly accepted, earning plenty of jealous glares. Biana came to the rescue, jumping into conversation with the group of girls nearest to them and talking on and on about the latest fashion trends in Atlantis. Fitz sent her a grateful look, glad he would have a little more space to figure out what he was going to do.  

Evelyn was a nice girl, and clearly very kind and powerful. Endearing, even. But Fitz had his heart sent on a certain ineligible bachelor.

Keefe was watching from across the room, half heartedly flirting with some of the girls who had lost hope in winning Fitz over, just like him. They locked eyes, trying to communicate all the words they might never get to say. A frown turned to a scowl on Keefe’s face as he excused himself from the conversation and stormed outside into the utopia-like grounds. Fitz didn’t understand why when he realized that Evelyn had closed in, adjusting his tie.  

“I’m really sorry, Evelyn, my friend stepped out for a bit and he looked sick, I’m gonna go check on him. Save me a dance?”

“Of course!” Evelyn leaped for joy, and went to find a friend of hers to tell her of her supposed victory.

He rushed outside, fiddling with the ring box that his father had given him just in case he found the “right one.” It was so tempting to give it to Keefe, but with the amount of time it took to recognize his feelings, he wasn’t quite sure either of them were ready for such a big leap.

At last, he found Keefe, legs dangling from a sturdy tree branch. “Oh, you’re here,” he said coldly. His voice was almost apathetic.

Fitz’s eyes welled with tears, his mind a storm of emotions that he was sure Keefe could sense from the few feet that separated them. Fitz got a running start and climbed onto the branch beside his.

Keefe chanced a glance at him, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Fitz was silently crying, shoulders shaking, and gasping for air. Because of him. The angry facade slipped away and he climbed to the next branch to sit beside him and pull him into a side hug. Fitz leaned on his shoulders and took the tissue that Keefe offered. He cleaned his face up, but his eyes were still red and puffy, and he was sobbing without tears. 

Fitz reminisced about all the tragedies and battles they had fought in there years on this Earth, and yet nothing beat this. Keefe rocked him gently. “You ready to talk about it?”

He chuckled bitterly, but had take a gulp of air. “What is there to say?”

Keefe tugged slightly on the fairy lights in the tree and looked off into the distance, still rubbing circles onto his back consolingly. “A lot of things. Mainly us and.... where tonight is going?”

The hesitancy in his voice was blatant, and it frightened him. Despite it being a relatively cloudless night, Fitz was shivering. There were so things that could go wrong: his family looking down on him, his family’s image crumbling, the shame of a bad match, and a million other things that crashed and mixed with the other concerns swirling around in his mind, like a tropical storm transforming into a hurricane. 

Fitz tried to focus on Keefe’s expression and body language, to read him and see into his brain. No telepathy. That’s crossing the line. Instead, he focused on Keefe’s features, which were much more prominent in the moonlight. His expression was pained, and his eyes held the sorrow of trillions of widows and widowers alike. His hair practically glowed, and seemed more unruly than usual, like waves raging in a storm. There was a war going on in his mind, and he wasn’t strong enough to make it out alive. Not alone, at least. But still, Fitz needed to set the record straight - or rather not straight.

Impulsively, Fitz seized Keefe’s wrist and finds his vein. “Do you want me to call off the Gala? For you?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean.” Keefe tried to pull out of Fitz’s vice grip, but he held strong, still gentle enough not to hurt him. “Why would you it off? This is one of the biggest events of your life.”

Fitz sighed, his heart rate picking up. He was going to have to be blunt about it. “Do you like me? Romantically?”

“What? No!” he squeaked.

And his heart skipped three beats.

One for guilt. One for fear. And one like a held breath.

“You liar,” Fitz accused, but he said it with a breathy laugh, full of relief. Releasing his arm, he wrapped him in a tight hug and murmured into his shoulder. “I like you too, dummy.”

Keefe’s eyes were widened in surprise, and his response was rather delayed, but he hugged him back, resting his chin on top of Fitz’s head. “You couldn’t have given me a few hints?”

“I asked you to hold my hand!”

“Yeah, but you could’ve meant that platonically. Be more clear, Fitzy,” Keefe teased, pulling back a bit to boop his nose.

Fitz blushed furiously. They had reached the eye of the hurricane. It was calm. Safe. Serene. “Well, are you gonna kiss me or not, idi-”

Keefe didn’t wait for the end of the sentence as he tilted Fitz’s chin up and gently pressed their lips together. They grinned, but didn’t break the kiss. It was a picture perfect moment, something taken right from a fairytale. A tidbit from a could-have-been.

But it was over all too soon, and a gasp from just beyond them sent them tumbling into the storm once more. Fitz pulled away and his face went pale. He witnessed it. His father. Alden Vacker. Had witnessed him kissing his male best friend in a tree on the day of his Winnowing Gala.

“What is the meaning of this, Fitzroy?!”

“I can explain-”

“There is no explanation! You disgrace the Vacker name on a daily basis, why must you make it worse by playing these games?”

“Dad, it’s not a game-”

“It’s disgusting!”

“It’s LOVE, dad.”

“You’re fooling yourself! There are hundreds of girls ready to give you their everything and you waste your time with this blasphemy! This wouldn’t be happening if you’d just learn to control yourself.”

“I can’t control the way I feel!”

“You and I both know that’s not true. And you can still control how you act, just enough to save yourself and the rest of the Vackers the embarrassment!”

“Will you listen to me for once in your life?!” Fitz shouted. He was done with his father’s manipulation. “I am romantically attracted to Keefe. I like men. That’s the way I am, that’s the way I was born, that’s how I feel. I’m not in control of it, and I’m not going to accept any disrespect from anyone about this! Much less a lowlife like you!”

“You are not my son,” Alden spat, stomping his foot on the ground.

“And you aren’t welcome here,” Della snarled. Her jaw was clenched and it was clear she was about to go in for the kill. Edaline stood behind her supportively, looking just as deadly with a string of fairy lights coiled in her hands threateningly.

“Radelle, Eda, surely you see-”

“The only place you be seeing yourself is off of my property,” Della countered.  

Alden scoffed in disbelief. “I believe you mean OUR property, dear.”

“Then you forget who the Vacker name really belongs to.” Edaline handed Della the coil of fairy lights. “You take care of him, I’ll start sending the girls home.”

“Gladly,” Della said through clenched teeth, before turning to the boys. “You two can have a sleepover tonight, I’ll bake some treats. But remember, behave.” Fitz could’ve sworn he saw his mother wink before she forcefully escorted Alden out of Everglen. HIs mind was incapable of forming full thoughts.

“Sleepover, huh?” Keefe hopped down from the tree. “Sounds like we could cause some chaos.” Keefe opened his arms in expectation.

“First of all, do NOT make a mess in my room,” Fitz started. “Second of all, there’s no way I’m dropping down there. You won’t catch me.”

“Aw, come on, Fitzy. Aren’t relationships about trust?”

“Wait, so you’re comfortable with the label of ‘boyfriend’?”

“Yes, Fitzroy Avery, but that’s besides the point. I wanna carry you upstairs. Drop down and get on my back.”

Fitz cringed at the sound of his name, but dropped down anyway, clinging to Keefe’s back for his dear life. 

“Onwards!” He cheered as he gave Fitz a piggy back ride all the way to his room. ——————

Fitz smiled down at the boy relaxing in his lap, lovingly combing his fingers through the boy’s blonde locks. This must be what makes life so divine. This is what euphoria is. The little gems of life where you cherish others with every fiber of your being. This is happiness. He’s what I want. Keefe leaned towards Fitz’s touch, his mind clearing plagued by other thoughts. “What’s wrong?” Fitz asked. “And no beating around the bush. I want to know what’s really bothering you.” When Keefe didn’t talk, he added, “You’re going to have to open up sooner or later, babe. I don’t want to be left out of the circle. I want you to let me in.”

“You don’t want to know the storm growing inside of me,” Keefe rasped, blinking back a few tears. “It’s too dangerous. And I don’t want to risk losing you.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he smiled sadly. “Keefe, you could never lose me over sharing your thoughts and feelings. This relationship is a two-way street - you open up to me and I open up to you. And... we all have storms, they’re just a little different. Some people might have thunderstorms, while others have hurricanes, and some might just have some windy days. But that doesn’t invalidate it. A storm is a storm, and a problem is a problem, regardless of the size and severity.”

“Getting poetic, are we?” Keefe joked, before biting his lip. “Sorry. I guess it wouldn’t kill to tell you some things.”

“Take as long as you need to. You don’t have to tell me everything at once, if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Sighing, he gave himself a moment to collect his thoughts. “I... just hated being around them. I couldn’t stand the way they expected me to fit into this perfect mold, or their version of perfect.”

“I hated how they only talked to me when they thought I was doing something wrong, something shameful. They made me feel like my best wasn’t enough. So... I stopped trying my best. I stopped obeying their stupid rules, I stopped thinking about what others would think of me. I wanted to be imperfect, and I wanted to shove it in their faces. I pranked, I ditched, I did anything I could to defy them. I was tired of being the circus puppet, so I cut my strings and stole the show.”

Fitz remained silent for a moment, Keefe shifting uncomfortably in his lap. He went to get up, but Fitz placed a hand on his chest, stopping him. “Sounds like you’ve got quite the thunderstorm.”

Keefe scoffed. “More like a whirlpool. And I don’t want you to drown with me.” “It won’t get that far,” Fitz insisted, concern emitting from him in waves. “I won’t let it.”

“And what can you do to stop it, Fitzy? The tides are turning, and absolutely no one is strong enough to steer the ship away.”

“You don’t know that. Keefe, I need you to have hope.”

“I knew it was a bad idea saying anything.”

Keefe closed his eyes from the sudden exhaustion, using what little energy he had left to turn to Fitz. “Can you emote a little quieter? I know I’m the light of your life, but you don’t need to worry about me that much.”

Oh, it was a whirlpool alright. But not in the way that Keefe imagined. Fitz’s heart pounded like a marching drum, as he reached into his back pocket. 

Keefe opened an eye in mild curiosity. “What’re you doing?”

“Get up, I have something to offer.”

“Oh?” His mischievous smirk returned, the manner in which his eye was dazzling hinting how clever and evasive he thought he had been. “And what would that be?”

The sapphire on the ring, placed firmly in its royal blue velvet box, glimmered from the light of the chandelier, and Keefe practically stumbled back in shock.

Fitz roller his eyes amusedly. “I’m not proposing. Not yet, anyway. I’m making you a promise. A deal. And if you accept this ring, you agree to it.”

“Bribery, Avery dearest? I thought you were above that.”

Fitz’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile. “Think more negotiation.”

“Alright,” Keefe said, scooting closer in a criss cross position. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath before speaking up again. “Keefe, in giving you this ring, I am vowing to always be by your side, through thick and thin. I will respect your boundaries, and let you open up on your own time. I will let you in just as much as you let me in. I will express myself just like you do. I promise to be with you no matter the weather.”

“Then I’ll be your lighthouse in the darkness,” Keefe responded softly.

Fitz slipped the ring onto Keefe’s finger. To no one’s surprise, it was a perfect fit.  

“It looks good on you,” Fitz complimented before a realization flashed by his eyes. “But if you don’t like it, we can find another!”

“It’s perfect,” he reassured him. “You’re perfect.”

Fitz hid his face to cover his blush. “So you promise? Through turbulence and tranquility?”

They interlocked their fingers.

“Always.”

[koriandrsucker]

Hey it’s miss geek here I’ve finished the story I will need to post it in sections so I will label them part 1 by MG part 2 by MG etc

Thank u so much! It was really sweet. Reading Jason getting some love is always the best. If you want me to erase this, I will, but, I’ll post it whole here.

AU where Kori is the best baby sitter in the entire universe… or is she?

by Miss Geek.

“What the hell is this Harper”

“Well I’m pretty sure it’s called playing Jaybird”

“No you moron I mean why is Kori here” Jason growled in Roy’s ear away from the giggles and laughter.

Roy gives him his signature shit-eating grin and replies “I would have thought Bruce would’ve given that talk Jay, Ah well seems I have to do it you see young grasshopper when two people love each-“

“Shut up Harper, I meant why is Kori in your house” Jason was seething, to say the least.

“Ok jaybird listen Lian wanted Kori to babysit her. Jade and I couldn’t say no to her she gave me the eyes ” Roy said, looking at his girlfriend and daughter chatting animatedly with Kori.

Jason sighed, he knew those eyes pretty well. Lian Harper was one of those very few that could get through the lone wolf that was Jason Peter Todd. The five-year-old knew she had him wrapped around her small pinky finger and Jason, being her godfather, only added to the fact he could not say no to her.

“Ok, whatever she’s here to babysit that means I don’t have to be here. I’ll see you-“

“Uhhh well yeah you see about that-“ Roy said sheepishly.

Jason turned his steely blue-eyed gaze at his best friend (if he’s being honest his only friend) and said, “what did you do Harper."

“Well if we are being accurate I didn’t do anything it was your goddaughter that requested to you both being here,” Roy said while he glanced at his girlfriend getting ready to leave for their date and giving Kori any last minutes things she would need to take care of Lian for the night.

“So, Kori and I are babysitting Lian,” Jason looked at Roy in absolute skepticism.

“No...Kori is in charge and technically babysitting Lian you are just here for Lian's entertainment. She said, and I quote, ‘unca jay is funny’“ Roy said smirking the whole time.

“Why can’t I be in charge I can take care of her just fine on my own. I survived the streets on my own until I was 12 so I can handle babysitting her myself for a few hours” Jason protested.

Roy looked to his best friend/brother/partner in crime and replied “I love you like a brother Jaybird and I know without a doubt you will protect Lian with your life but..you can be a walking hazard at times”.

“What? How?“

“Well there was the time you burnt water while trying to heat her milk in her bottle-“

“That was years ago Harper, give me a break-“

“Ok, what about last week when you put the toaster on fire trying to make Lian cheese toasties”.

“I still can’t figure out how a five-year-old knew how to use a fire extinguisher. In my defense, that incidence speaks volumes about your household Harper”

Jason really didn’t want to be alone with Kori.

It’s not that Kori was horrible to be around, in fact, she was the nicest person Jason has ever met. Korina Marie Anders was a pleasant girl who he had been acquainted with six years ago at his adopted brother's 21st birthday. She introduced herself to him and Jason found himself lost for words for the first time in his life, much to the amusement of his entire adopted family.

Even to this day he still thought about her but he was always wary to talk to her for many reasons, one of them due to her history with his brother, “Prick” Grayson (no he didn’t get his name wrong, in Jason's mind that is the name he had christened his older adopted brother). Kori had a brief dating history, by brief meaning literally under three months. The reason why they broke up was unknown to everyone.

However, Jason was not afraid of his brother. If he didn't approach Kori, it was more the fact that he convinced himself of not being good enough and that she would never see him in that way. After all, if she didn’t want Grayson, who all of Jason’s life had known to be Bruce’s golden child, the best son, the prince of Gotham, and everyone’s favorite guy, why on gods green earth would she want him. HIM. Jason Peter Todd, the street kid Bruce Wayne took in, the troublemaker, the dark prince of Gotham.

The only people who he can handle their presence are Roy, Jade, Lian, Alfred, and maybe Tim, on a good day. It’s safe to say Jason got rid of any hope to catch the eye of Korina Anders, but that did not mean his crush went away.

He got out his trip down memory lane as Roy spoke again.

“I don’t really think your problem is about me trusting you.”

“What do you mean,” Jason narrows his eyes at his friend.

“The real issue is you can’t trust yourself around Kori,” Roy replied.

As his best friend, Jason did confide in Roy his crush on the redhead and since then Roy was on a mission to get the two together. Unfortunately, Jason always dodged every plan Roy had. Well, all except this plan. Unbeknownst to Jason, Roy knew what he was doing putting Lian into this. It would make Jason unable to say no.

His plan was working so far, he only hoped it would work in everyone’s favor. Jason’s silence was enough to convince Roy that he still had feelings for Kori. With that reassurance, he called over to his girlfriend. 

“Hey babe come on, we will have to leave now, our reservation is at 7. Thanks again Kors for the recommendation and for looking after Lian tonight.”

Jade turned to Kori gratefully. “We honestly can’t thank you enough it’s been a while we have been out without Lian.”

“Babe, please, she knew how to swear in Vietnamese at three years old, and I sure as hell can't speak a word of Vietnamese, so where would she get THAT from.” Roy retorted, knowing full well he won that argument and the look on his girlfriend meant she knew it too.

Instead, she rolls her eyes at him and turns to her daughter. “Lian be a good girl for your aunt Kori and uncle Jason, ok? Mommy and daddy will be back soon, and Kori, you have both our numbers don’t hesitate to call if you need us”.

“Ok, mommy, I’ll be good me. Aunt Kori and unca Jay will have buckets of fun, won’t we?" As she turned to her uncle and aunt.

Kori answered with, “yes, we will Lian”

Jason was still wrapping around his head that Lian called Kori her aunt. 

“Aunt Kori?” Jason whispered to Roy.

Roy’s reply was not what Jason expected. “Well, actually, Jade and I were hoping that title will change to godmother if all goes well.”

That left Jason lost for words while Kori and Lian waved goodbye.

Lian turned to her uncle and aunt. "What are we gonna do first? Can we play princesses? Oh, what about pony island instead or how about -?” 

Lian Harper was a talker and Jason didn’t know how to control, as he liked to call them, Lian's sugar rush mode.

Kori turns to Lian and says “Did you finish your homework from school?" 

Lian went sheepishly quiet and told Kori “Umm, no aunt Kori.”

Kori gave Lian a smile.

“Well, if you finish your homework we can do what you want.”

Lian thought carefully for a minute and to Jason’s surprise, she calmly replied. “Ok aunt Kori, do you pinky promise?”

She stuck out her pinky only for Kori to take and wrap it around her own. Satisfied that her aunt Kori won’t break her promise, she moved into the kitchen to start her homework. Kori then turned to Jason who had a blank expression.

Kori was concerned so she asked, “Hey Jason everything alright?”

“How did you do that,” he asked still in a daze.

“Do what?“

"Get her to listen to you. She never does that willingly, she usually needs to be bribed.”

Kori smiles at him and he feels his knees buckling. He sometimes forgets the effect she has on him.

“I’ve had a lot of practice with my brother”.

“Ah, right.” He replies and resists the urge to ask her what’s been on his mind.

Instead, she speaks. “Lian tells me you are favorite uncle,” Kori says with a knowing smile.

Jason gives her his signature smirk and tells her, “I’m her only uncle that she sees regularly, so there’s no competition. Not really”.

In a way, Jason has indeed been there for Lian since the beginning and she sees her other uncles, from Dick to Wally, only time to time as Roy isn’t hostile towards them anymore but still, the friendship will never be how it once was. Jason knows fully well how burnt bridges are beyond repair.

However, Kori shakes her head “No, I’ve seen her interact with others. It’s not the same way she looks at you. You should have seen her face when Jade told her you’ll be coming over. Her face lit up like the Fourth of July.”

Jason gives her a genuine smile, something she has not ever seen on the man before her. Always a smirk or a tight smile. So seeing this new smile she realizes it’s an expression she would like to see more of. Hopefully.

Before Jason has the chance to say anything, Lian comes back from the kitchen, finishing her work.

They all decided to play some games much to the embarrassment of Jason. Lian made both of them play pretty pony island. Kori thought Jason cooperating with Lian's demands was adorable. Jason thought he might die.

Kori then went to start making dinner for them all.

Lian turned to her favorite uncle and said “I like aunt Kori, unca Jay”

“Me too, kid.”

“Can you marry her then?”

Jason didn’t think it was possible to choke on air but he proved himself wrong.

“Wait what??? Who told- hold on a minute” Jason tried to get his bearings right before answering his goddaughter. “What are you talking about.”

“Daddy said you like her, so if you marry her she can come round all the time with you right?” She asked innocently and again she used those eyes.

Jason sadly replied, “I don’t think she likes me like that, kid.”

“Why not? your the best unca ever”

She ran over to him to give him the biggest hug she could give. Jason had a habit early in life not to live up to people's expectations because he felt he always fell short on those expectations. However, with Lian, it seemed he could do no wrong and with that, he hugged her back as much as the five years could handle.

That’s how Kori found them and she didn’t want to split them until they did themselves. They both turned to Kori as she explained dinner was ready.

Dinner surprisingly went smooth Lian didn’t make a fuss. It was then time for bed and Lian wanted a story. Jason knew her favorite story was Robin Hood, so as he read the story animatedly to her, Kori watched on the sidelines, smiling the entire time.

Lian then got put to bed as Kori left the room Lian turned to her uncle.

“Unca Jay, aunt Kori is the best babysitter in the universe but you're the best unca ever. I love you unca Jason,” and she drifted to sleep.

Jason smiled, kissed her forehead, and slowly crept out the room.

To his surprise, Kori was right outside the room.

“I told you, you're her favorite uncle. Not that I blame her,” she said with a smirk.

Is she flirting? Jason can say he wasn’t sure, so he tested his theory.

“Oh really,” he said.

“Around the people you love, you don’t pretend to be something you're not. It’s clear as day how you feel about them. You don’t hide behind a mask” Kori replied.

Immediately, Jason had the answer to his question about her flirting with him.

This must be why Prick Grayson and her broke up. Grayson was known to hide behind a mask, he portrayed one image but had another behind closed doors. As friends, it would not be as much of an issue, however, in a relationship, it’s another playing field and with a relationship with Korina Anders, who wears her heart on her sleeve, Jason was sure it caused them to clash.

“It’s difficult to show emotions when you're being raised by Bruce Wayne,” he isn’t sure why he was sticking up for Grayson or maybe it was for himself.

“Well you seem to be doing alright for yourself,” she said shyly.

“I won’t lie to you it’s not like that every day. Some days are better than others,” he admitted.

This is why he didn’t want to be alone with her. Stupid Harper.

"Why won’t you lie to me, I wouldn’t be offended if you did,” she said looking confused.

Without his brain's permission, he blurted out “You’re too good to be lied to.”

His face sure turned the color of Kori’s hair.

Kori smiled at him and admitted, “I heard what you said to Lian about me not liking you in that way. I wasn’t eavesdropping, I promise."

She suddenly turned, ashamed of Jason thinking the worst of her. However, Jason just wanted to crawl in an imaginary hole. Anywhere, please, Lord Almighty, but here with her.

“Please Kori just forget you heard that” Jason pleaded.

“Why” she whispered.

“Because I’d rather forget than you reject me.”

“Who said I would reject you” Jason looks at Kori stunned.

Kori is looking at her feet because she, like him, spilled her feelings.

“Are you serious? Since when?”

“Remember last summer in Gotham? You came back for a visit. I tried to go up to you but it was hard, I didn’t know if you saw me in that way, you always had that too cool for school vibe since I met you. I’m a nerd with an Astrophysics degree. Like I said I didn’t think u would look my way”.

Jason was floored. He never thought this would ever be a conversation but now it’s out in the open. He can’t help but wonder what if.

So right then and there he decides to throw caution to the wind and take the risk.

If anybody knew Jason Peter Todd, they would know he loves to take risks. He moves closer to Kori until there are barely inches apart and whispers to her.

“Trust me, I’ve been seeing you that way for six years, I’m pretty sure I won’t change my mind”.

Kori now was blushing and she couldn’t fight it down. This man in front of her could bring out emotions she never knew she was capable of but she accepted it.

“Me neither.”

She whispered back, afraid if she talked any louder their moment could break. And so with that, reassuring him, his feelings were reciprocated he went in for a chaste kiss. However, the moment his lips landed on hers, Kori turned it more passionate. Even if he was not expecting that from her, Jason allowed Kori to explore all she wanted, after all, he thought she might as well get used to what will be hers and hers alone.

So Jason could agree with Lian that Korina Marie Anders was indeed the best babysitter in the universe.

Now he owed the smug Roy a huge favor.

Hmm, maybe playful revenge is how he’ll show his appreciation. After all, he can’t lose his touch now, can he?