#this wasn't meant to be that long

[mythicalcrumb]

i think it was a smart move to make eurylochus confess at the beginning of 'scylla'. when you listen to it for the first time you could think scylla is talking to him. 'you have a reason for shame', 'leaving them feeling betrayed, breaking the bonds that you've made'. it makes listening to the song for the second time even better, because not only do we realize she was talking to odysseus, but that odysseus had, by the time they get to the lair of scylla, already planned to sacrifice 6 of his men. it wasn't an accident, it wasn't a bad decision made in a rush. he had already thought about this.

and, i'm taking it a bit further, eurylochus knew about it. he notices odysseus is abnormally calm, 'you're quiet today'. he should have looked like he was thinking of a plan, because surely if he had one he would have shared it with the crew, right? instead he looks resigned. and when scylla appears, he just calmy orders eurylochus to grab 6 torches (specifically 6, because he had already thought about it).

eurylochus didn't want to believe it. he kinda offers odysseus the benefit of the doubt, 'tell me you did not know that would happen', 'that you did not just sacrifice 6 men'. and when odysseus doesn't refute it, eurylochus is forced to accept that odysseus did plan for 6 men's death, 'then you have forced my hand'.

i see a lot of people call eurylochus a hypocrite for being so eager to abandon his men on circe's island but drawing the line at odysseus sacrificing 6 men. he didn't resent odysseus either for the friends they lost to polyphemus. but if we look at it from a slightly different angle, maybe it's not about the deads but why they died. if 6 men had died in scylla's lair because of lack of strenght, bad luck, being unprepared, i don't think eurylochus would have reacted the same.

epic is written so that we feel for odysseus. it's meant to make us love him. he's portrayed as everything most love, he's smart and strong but also funny and a little bit pathetic and everyone went wild over his 'you know i'm too shy and terrified' bit. but even if he has a lot of bad luck and the gods are against him, he's still in the wrong.

'mutiny' was never about the death of those six men, but because odysseus had failed them as a captain. and for once eurylochus plays his role as second-in-command when he challenges odysseus for the crew's sake. i'm not saying odysseus could have avoided what happened, but he knew what to expect and chose to keep it from his crew.

as scylla predicts it in 'scylla'

[booasaur]

Renegade Nell (2024) - 1x06

[lazylittledragon]

ok i swear i'm not going to talk about my breakup forever but the thing that just keeps bothering me:

i know that not getting what you need in a relationship is a COMPLETELY valid reason to end it but also. i feel like having a very vulnerable moment where i opened up about my struggles with intimacy and being relieved that i didn't have to keep doing things i wasn't comfortable with, then being dumped a YEAR later because of my lack of intimacy. is something i should be allowed to be very hurt by???

[stagefoureddiediaz]

911 and the Wizard of Oz!

So I’ve written a couple of times about the wizard of Oz connections that 911 has had in the past. Well after 8x03 and the trailer for 8x04 - everything has become much clearer to me and boy oh boy is Tim pulling a blinder with this one!

I need to start by saying he is playing on lore from both the original books as well as the film, so much of this wouldn’t be evident if you had little to no knowledge of the book series. I however do - because I loved the books as a child and I have also long been interested in the link between the books, the original film and the queer narrative that runs through them. Especially because of my yellow and blue and then blue and green colour theory and its use in telling queer narratives in cinema and television in the aftermath of the 1939 film.

For those who don’t know the background of it, you can read my post here about the wizard of oz and its queer narrative and the yellow/blue colour theme, but for a brief run down the wizard of oz and its themes have been a key part of the queer narrative since they first appeared in print and then on film. Yellow blue colour theory stems from Dorothys dress and the yellow brick road and became a film short hand for queer narratives in film, during the hays code era (1934-1968), and has continued on to this day. the most recent and most obvious use of the blue/yellow blue/green coding has been in heartsotopper - where it is very heavily and very cleverly used to help tell the queer narrative, but it is its use in films during the hays code where it was doing a lot of work to ‘secretly’ provide queer narrative in film. (this is a specialist subject of mine and I could write about it all day - I really would love to do a phd in it, but I do not have the money or time to do that so I write about it at any opportunity on tumblr!)

Many of the nods to the story are subtle, but they are there and I am going to go through a good number of them with you - especially the ones we’ve had in season 8 so far, the main thing to note right off the bat though is that they all connect in to Eddie and that is very telling to me - especially when we take 5x01 - 5x04 into account. the rest is below the cut becasue it's long!

The very first reference to the Wizard of Oz we get is in 202 - 7.1. We have the entitled woman (that is the name they gave the character in the credits!) with her dog - Paisley.The entitled woman is wearing red shoes and we get shown her with just her feet sticking out from under the rubble in a clear nod to the wicked witch of the east being buried under Dorothys house in Oz.

Kat the little girl who gets separated from her family and ultimately reunited with them is a nod to the overall story of Dorothy in the wizard of Oz - and Paisley is a nod to Toto - Dorothy’s dog. I will also mention the fact that we get a heart metaphor during this disaster - Jeff - the heart of a champion. 

We get a further nod in season 2 in 207 - Haunted - where we have the girl at the halloween parade dressed as the film version of Dorothy. I don’t think there is a huge amount to read into from a Wizard of Oz perspective, beyond the fact that it is referenced - we don’t actually need to see anything further in regards to the Wizard of Oz - its all about making the connection.

This episode is a big episode of Eddie and his storyline and this is a way for 911 to link Eddie into the Wizard of Oz theme without being massively obvious about it and his absence from this scene is a key part of that.

There are other key elements in this scene that we’ve been seeing come into play over the seasons for Eddie and that is what makes the wizard of Oz reference especially interesting. First up it's important to note that this is the episode we see the return of Shannon in. We have the horse and his rider - being separated by the death of the horse and the officer describing the horse as his friend. There are two things this is playing on here - the first is the foreshadowing of Shannons death, the second is that the show has then reused this metaphor of partners being separated by death, this time making use of the police aspect as a part of Eddies breakdown in season 5 - Mills’s - Eddies partner while he was in the army and her death. These two elements are why Eddie absence is key - Eddie becomes the officer and Shannon or Mills becomes the Horse and having Eddie present in the scene waters down the metaphor.

The fact we get a lot of wizard of Oz references in season 5, makes this a really interesting and clever connection to draw. The other aspects of this scene in 207 is the pretty important reference about the horse needing a sedative to stop him thrashing around until his heart gave out. Bearing in mind this is the first really intentional heart metaphor we see on the show and it’s a pretty key episode for Eddie in relation to his heart, his absence from this scene becomes louder, especially as he is off with his heart (Christopher) enjoying halloween. It makes it clear that the Eddie and hearts metaphor has been there since very early on - and has been (at least loosely)connected to The Wizard of Oz.

Remembering what I said above and in my other post about the wizard of Oz being very heavily connected to queer theming and storytelling in media it makes it likely that this is the show putting in early building blocks for a queer Eddie arc gif they wanted to then go down that route later on. (this makes the season 5 theming I’ll talk about shortly even more interesting to me!)

The last thing to mention is the is the emphasis on the devil, a priest and a drag queen at the parade- all things we see appearing in Eddies arc through season n7 and into 8. The drag queens from the bachelor party - in which we really see Eddie letting go and have fun for the first time. The priest and the devil are a metaphor for Eddies struggles with his faith - the idea of temptation (in the catholic church - especially the devout catholic church, being queer in any way is seen as being tempted by the devil), and with us having knowledge of Eddie going to church and likely talking to a priest in some capacity in the next few episodes, we have yet another tie back to this storyline from 207.

Now I obviously have no proof with what the intentions were for ~Eddie in season 5, but I’ve long had my theories and now, knowing that they had originally intended to have Bucks bisexual arc take place in s5 but it got shut down by the higher ups, I can make some pretty educated guesses based off what we did get early on in the season.

Season 5 opened with the blackout and then we led straight in to 5x04 ‘Home and Away’ with all its yellow and blue colour theming. Can you see where I’m going with this? How does the opening of the film version of the Wizard of Oz start? Yup that’s right - in black and white and then when Dorothy finds herself over the rainbow everything is in colour and the use of yellow and blue is very strong with Dorothy’s blue gingham dress and the yellow brick road with the green colouring coming later on when they reach the emerald city.

So I think 911 was intending to play on that concept in season 5 - the idea that the black out is a nod to Kansas being in black and white (not to mention the use of green for the hackers!) and then 5x04 is a play on Dorothy following the yellow brick road - hence the heavy use of yellow and blue and the way it winds through the narrative of the episode (along with the use of the bluejay as the schools animal emblem - which is a symbol of communication, curiosity and confidence - seeing a bluejay is telling you to be bold and chase your goals!). What is the other thing we get a huge number of references to in season 5 - especially connected to Eddie - hearts and heart metaphors.

We do also get a nod to the wizard of Oz in season 6 and the zeppelin disaster - which is a nod to the hot air balloon the wizard crashed into Oz in. The zeppelin is yellow and blue and the conversation on board refers to one of the pilots mother in law - whilst she isn’t stated to be a witch, the implication is there. the 110 is also closed in roughly the same place as we get it closed in 8x03. along with the fact that Eddie is the one to go into the zeppelin - Chim and Buck only partially go in - and the parallel storyline in the episode is about a heart issue, we once again have The Wizard of Oz being tied into heart metaphors.

Let’s move on to season 8 now and look at the vast number of Wizard of Oz references we have seen so far and appear to have coming up in 8x04. I will say the sheer number of references in season 8 compared with the more subtle ones from seasons 5 and 6 is one of the reasons I’m so very sure we have a queer Eddie arc going on - that they’ve finally been able to pull that trigger and move things forward for him.

Just remember that things don’t have to exactly follow the story of the wizard of Oz to be relevant - its not about the narrative following the same path, but more about the use of recognised aspects and tropes from the book and film to convey information and aid the storytelling. It is often more about the concept and meaning behind something and a 911 character may share the traits of more than one wizard of oz character because it is their traits that are relevant not necessarily TWoO characters full journey through the book or film.

The bee-nado is a literal reference to the tornado that sent Dorothy to oz - its one of the reasons we don’t see more of the bees - they serve their purpose in the same way the tornado does so we don’t need to see them again.

Gerrard building ‘his 118’ with a security fence around the firehouse and cast iron plumbing is a reference to the wizard building the Emerald city - which has a wall around it for security. In Oz it is the place full o the most up to date technology etc. So Gerrard is building his Emerald City.

The mother in the car falling asleep due to anaphylaxis is likely a reference to the poppy field in the film version of TWoO, along with the flowers at the perfume launch and Bucks statement that ‘smoke worked last time’ - because the smoke did make the bees sleepy like the poppies made Dorothy and her friends sleepy.

Bucks plan to have Eddie run and attract the the swarm of bees is a reference to an event that happens in the book. The wicked witch sends a swarm of bees to sting them to death. The tin man and scarecrow had seen them coming and scarecrow comes up with a plan - he has Dorothy, toto and the lion covered in his straw to hide them from the bees who only find the tin man - they try to sting him but it breaks their stings and kills them instead without hurting the tin man as he is impervious to bees by nature of being made of tin. What we see happen in 801 is very clearly placing Buck into the role of Scarecrow and Eddie into the role of tin man - Buck comes up with the plan and Eddie undertakes it successfully - his turnouts protecting him from the bees just like the tin man being made of tin protected him.

Gerrard hitting his head is a reference to Dorothy hitting her head in the tornado and waking up in Oz - its a reference to Dororthy’s line  ‘Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore’ - its a play on the fact that the 118 is a very different place to when Gerrard was removed first time. Gerrard represents the black and white world - outdated and not up with the times (which he wasn’t back in the day either but that’s kind of the point), the world (the 118) is now in glorious technicolour since his departure and Gerrard will end up back in a black and white world in the end while the rest of the 118 will remain in colour and move forward. This places Gerrard in the role of the Wizard, but it is more akin to the book wizard than the film wizard - originally in the books (it was later glossed over as it didn’t go down well with readers) the Wizard arrives in a hot air balloon and becomes ruler of Oz by usurping he King and handing over the princess to a witch (more on this later!). As is shown in the film, he leaves Oz to return home in a hot air balloon.  If Gerrard is the wizard, this makes Bobby the king (usurped from his throne at the 118) and Hen becomes Ozma (this is something I will talk about a bit later as it deserves its own section!) which fits with how we are being shown Hen being given the 118 captains role on a more frequent basis - suggesting the show is transitioning her into becoming the captain down the line.

Tia, her dog and Jordan are an interesting trio - they are a very clear parallel serve as a multi layered allegory as they play on several aspects of the film and books, as well as linking to aspects of 911 and especially on Buck and Eddies storyline. 

Firstly we have the dog - who is the same type of dog as Paisley from season 2 - right down to the red bow in the hair (which is encouraging us to draw parallels with the earthquake disaster). Both dogs are a nod to Toto - Dorothy’s dog in the Wizard of Oz. The dog is also a representation of Buck, but I’ll go into that when I talk about Buck below!

Tia represents both Dorothy and the tin man, we see her initially as, not heartless, but guarded, but she softens especially when we see her following the instructions Hen gives, and bonding with various people on the plane including Jordan, in much the same way we see the tin man do for Dorothy and scarecrow. She is also a representation of Eddie (again I’ll go into this more later on) 

Jordan is a reference to both the flying monkeys (through his telephone conversation he is implied to be a business monkey which is in turn a play on monkey business - behaviour that causes discomfort our annoyance) and the cowardly lion. He is also a reference to Chopfyt who only appears in the books and is a man made from the parts of others and is a reference to Tommy, which I will explain later as well!

its worth pointing out that Jordans viagra fuelled boner is hidden under a rainbow towel and when they get off the plane Tia, Jordan and the dog are sat on a yellow tarpaulin - the implication being that they are still in Oz and over the rainbow, but that isn't real life - its fake - a dream - and reaity will set back in once they are able to go home.

Buck has 2 red flares to bring the plane home - symbolic of the red slippers - click three times and say there’s no place like home.

There is a lot of yellow and blue lighting used in combination - especially around Buck and Eddie.

The green lighting on the plane after it has landed - a reference to leaving the Emerald city and Oz and going home.

Im sure there are others that I may have missed, but these are the key ones, and most of them will likely remain in play in some capacity in the upcoming episodes.

As for the potential upcoming oz references, we have the following

the tiger in 804 is likely a reference to lions and tigers and bears. Oh my! from the film, but may also be a reference to the hungry tiger from the books - who is a tiger who is never full and desires to eat a fat baby but never would as his conscience would never allow him to. He is described in the books as the largest and most powerful of his kind and is one of Ozmas chariot drivers and is friends with the cowardly lion. The Tiger reference coming in no place like home and the books connection of the tiger with Princess Ozma and the cowardly lion makes me feel like Karen may be represented by and paralleled with the tiger, and the idea that Karens conscience won’t allow her to metaphorically eat Ortiz (the fat baby) but that is purely speculation on my part!

the pumpkin stuck on a head storyline that’s been hinted at coming up in 805 - in the books there is a character called Jack pumpkin head who is made by the Princess Ozma when she is Tip and then brought to life by magic (Ozma is the rightful ruler of Oz and was given to the Witch Mombi of the North by the wizard in order to prevent he rightful ruler of Oz ascending the throne. Ozma is transformed into a boy called Tip by Mombi, but is later turned back when Glinda discovers what has happened). Im expecting this arc on the show to play into Jack’s storyline in the books. Jack refers to having lost a father when Tip is returned to being Ozma. I think we’ll see it played as a reference to Mara, Chim and Hen, because Hen is Very Ozma coded which I’ll explain a bit more later on!

Masks. with 805 being titled masks it feels very loaded towards the Wizard of oz and the fact he wears different masks (in the book) depending on who he is meeting with. He appears to Dorothy as a giant head (as we see used in the film), to the Scarecrow as a lovely lady, to the Tin Woodman as a terrible beast, and to the cowardly Lion as a ball of fire. He does this with the intention of scaring them all, but in all cases has chosen the wrong image to make the desired impression. there is of course the fact that the mask slips (the curtain gets pulled away by Toto) and the truth of the Wizard is revealed - that he is a fraud -  merely a man who has been using magic tricks to make himself seem great and powerful.

these are just the ones we know about, there may very likely be more revered once we’ve seen the episodes, for example we might get a play on Eddie in church and going to confession - the idea of hiding ones identity behind a screen.

I want to talk a bit about the specifics of the firefam, and how they fit into the concept in a more detailed way. Obviously all members of the firefam fit into multiple aspects of each of the 4 main characters in Oz, but they each have one that has a stronger pull than the others. Each one of the characters in the books and film have specific traits that form their personality and a key part of their narrative - Dorothy wants to get home, The lion wants courage, the scarecrow a brain and the tin man a heart. These are all allegories for the bigger picture. 

Dorothy wants to go home, yes, but that is part of her bigger desire to belong - the books reveal much more about her past and upbringing in Kansas. She is also the first person in the wider story - it is her journey that sets in motion all of the other ones.

The cowardly lion is in fact not cowardly, but incredibly brave, and a loyal friend, he is just full of self doubt because he believes his fear makes him inadequate as lions are supposed to be the king of beasts. we see him overcome that self doubt and go onto succeed - becoming a well respected and important member of Ozma'z court.

The scarecrow wants a brain but is in fact shown to be the smartest of the group - coming up with clever plans and sharing a great depth of knowledge the also becomes the ruler of the Emerald city - appointed by the wizard when he leaves, and it is stated by the tin man in one of the later books the he is ‘probably the wisest man in all Oz’

The Tin man wants a heart, but in fact is one of the most tender, emotional, considerate and caring people in Oz as well as being extremely competent and practical.  He is also shown to seize up and rust due to either the rain or his tears. In the books he is given more backstory - his axe was enchanted by the wicked witch of the east and it causes him to chop off his body parts limb by limb. The witch does this because he is win love with her ward Nimmie Amee. when he chops out his heart he feels his could no longer love her and so left. he does later try to find his long lost love but is left disappointed when he finds her married to a man made up of his body parts and those of another tin man called Captain Fyter who had also been enchanted by the witch for the same reason. she refuses to leave her man of parts and tin man and scarecrow return to the emerald city together.

The Tin man and the scarecrow sit very much in parallel with one another in both the books and the 1939 film, they are very much a pair and shown to be each others foil and in the books especially spend a long time debating with one another about the relative importance of the brain and heart, but in combination with one another form a perfect whole. 

With the main characters of Oz covered we can explore the way 911 is using their traits to tell the stories of our firefam, but before we do that I want to look at a few other key 911 characters and how they relate to the wizard of oz!

Bobby in my opinion is Glinda the good witch - he shares a lot of traits with her. It is Ginda who helps restore Oz (the 118) to its fully unified state - something that had ceased to be under the Wizard and the wicked witches rule in separate counties. She also tends not to meddle or interfere in Ozian matters unless requested to do so. This fits with bobby’s traits very well - he doesn’t tend to get involved in things unless pushed to do so or asked directly. Much earlier in Oz’s history Glinda also helps redeem the tyrannical king of Oz through the creation of the forbidden fountain and the waters of oblivion - the king drank the water and then forgets his cruel and nefarious intentions. bobby replacing Gerrard at the 118 fits fairly well into this theme.

Ortiz is an interesting one - she fits into bot the role of The wizard, as well as the wicked witch of the west. I think that Ortiz is the wizard in part because the name Ortiz can loosely be read a s a play on ‘wiz’ as in wizard, but also because she is the most powerful person in the show right now - and it is all built on lies and corruption - much like the wizard is in Oz! However as the film unfolds we are shown that the witch is in fact more powerful than the wizard, but is also eventually easily brought down. This is why I think she is also a reference to the wicked witch, but also because the witch controls the flying Monkeys - who serve as her lackeys and undertake her bidding.

Gerrard is both  the Wizard of Oz and a flying monkey. I wrote above about the wizard hiding behind screens and masks and and Gerrard and I wrote about Gerrard building fences around the 118 being reference to the wizard building the emerald city. The flying monkey connection is obvious - he is working under Ortiz.

Tommy fits into a couple of different characters. He is in my opinion most closely connected to Chopfyt and Nimmie Amee, but he also fits into the meaning of the flying monkeys. Chopfyt is made up of the parts of the Tin woodman and Captain Fyter (the tin soldier) who are rivals for the attention of Nimmie Amee who is married to Chopfyt but was at one time courted by the tin man and the tin soldier.  Captain Fyter and the Tin Woodman�� become friends during their journey to find Nimmie Amee. The flying monkey connection is perhaps a more obvious of the three, the monkeys are subservient to the wicked witch of the west and in the begins episodes we are shown Tommy being very much under Gerrard wing through his behaviour. It is also worth nothing that the flying Monkeys in the book drop the tin man over shape rocks leaving him so dented he could not move and they pull the scarecrow apart, scattering his straw and throwing his clothes up a tree - Dorothy is able to repair them both with the aid of the Winkies (the people under the control of the wicked witch of the west) and Dorothy then commands the flying monkeys to take them to the Emerald city. 

The meaning of these character connections is clear to me - Tommy as Nimmie Amee courts first the tin man (Eddie) and then the Tin Soldier (Buck) but chooses Chopfyt in the long run. Tommy is made up of parts of both Buck and Eddie in the same way that Chopfyt is made up of parts of Tin man and Captain Fyter. The fact neither Tin man or the Tin soldier succeed with Nimmie Amee and that she choses Chopfyt is telling and possibly gives us clues about the eventual demise of Buck and Tommys relationship and suggests that as tommy fits both characters parts (both characters who are fairly small roles in the books and are plot devices - much in the same way as Tommy is in 911), he will ultimately choose himself (as we’ve already seen him do in 705).

Onto the 4 remaining members of the firefam, and I believe Chimney is for the moist part, meant to be Dorothy - he is the first member of the firefam in the same way Dorothy is, he fits a lot more of the Dorothy tropes from the book than the film shows, he is described as the heart of the 118 - which is basically what Dorothy represents in the books and film - she is the one who keeps everyone together, or brings them back together when they have been separated. And if we follow the theming of Gerrard being the wicked witch of the west, it becomes more apparent - in the books Dorothy is enslaved by the wicked witch and forced to carry out menial cleaning tasks - in much the same way we see Chim being treated by Gerrard in Chim begins. It is Chim who we are shown supporting Hen, Buck, and Eddie as they begin their careers at the 118.

The other thing of note - which currently doesn’t fully work, but will if, as I suspect, the wizard of oz references around Eddie are a part of his Queer journey - is that Chimney is the only one of the four members of the team (we are not including Bobby as he is the captain) who has no queer coding in any way and is in a heterosexual marriage. The reason this is important and plays into the idea of Chim being Dorothy is that the term ‘Friend of Dorothy’ is coded speak for being queer - I explain it further in my meta which I linked at the top of this post - the play is that Dorothy herself is not queer, but that her companions on her journey down the yellow brick road are. Which fits Chimney perfectly - with Hen and Buck being Lesbian and bi respectively and with the Wizard of Oz connections to Eddies storylines across the previous seasons and again in the current season being very loud, it feels fair to assume that Eddie will also sit somewhere on the queer spectrum before too long (and really is the reason behind me writing this insanely long post!) 

Hen is the cowardly lion. We are shown Hen doubting her abilities at several points throughout the show, but she is arguably the bravest of the 118. The cowardly lion’s favoured companion is the hungry tiger (as I wrote about above - we may well see Karen paralleled with the tiger in 804)

But Hen is also Princess Ozma and this is a far more powerful connection. Ozma is the rightful heir to the throne of Oz and spent much of her childhood in the form of a boy called Tip as she had been enchanted by the witch Mombi until Glinda the good witch discovers the enchantment and forces Mombi to return her to her true form and take her rightful place as ruler of Oz. With Bobby filling the role of Glinda, helping Hen achieve her full potential and the allegory of Hen having to hide herself for much of her life until she becomes a firefighter - the wig we see Hen wearing in Hen begins plays into this idea perfectly - that Hen was disguised but has been freed from that disguise and become her true self.

Buck is the scarecrow. But he is also Toto and Captain Fyter. I explained the Captain Fyter connection above in the section on Tommy so I won’t repeat myself here. Buck is toto for a couple of reasons. Firstly we have the connection to the dog in the plane in season 8 who growls at Jordan and Tia tells him that the dog doesn’t like men, he then becomes friendly when Jordan is ill, but we see him returned to Tia when they leave the plane. this is all a allegory for Buck’s bi arc. Tia is Eddie in the scenario and Tommy is Jordan . The dog growling and being protective is akin to Buck growling and becoming jealous over Eddie and Tommys friendship, trying to keep Tommy away from Eddie, but then becoming friendly with Tommy in the same way the dog becomes friendly with Jordan in a therapy dog kind of way before returning to Tia at the end, implying that Buck will always go back to Eddie when it comes down to it. the therapy dog aspect is also interesting as it implies BUck is providing some kind of therapy for Tommy - this could be read as Buck helping Tommy learn and grown (likely in connection with his still undressed past behaviour) - makes him a better person, before they part ways and Buck ‘returns’ to Eddie. 

Then there is the wizard of oz references - it is Toto who sets much of the plot of the wizard of Oz in motion - by biting Almira Gulch in Kansas in the film version and by hiding under the bed in fright in the book version. It is Toto who reveals the truth of the Wizard of Oz being just a man, and it is Toto who leads The lion, scarecrow, and tin man to where Dorothy is after she has been captured by the wicked witch (in the film - he is less involved in the book!) and it is toto who stops Dorothy from leaving with the Wizard and ultimately leads to Dorothy learning the slippers she wears can carry her home if she clicks her heels together 3 times and wishes to go home. All of these events either play into Bucks arcs in 911 or will potentially going forward. Bucks impulsive ways could be said to mirror Toto’s impulsive actions in TWoO and it will be interesting to see if being taken under Gerrard wing leads to him gaining information that helps Hen take down Ortiz!

The biggest connection though is with the scarecrow. The scarecrow has long been associated with bisexuality - due to his line in the film ‘of course some people go both ways’. in the book the scarecrow also reveals that he lacks a brain but greatly desires one - he is in fact only 2 days old when Dorothy meets him so he is essentially just naive because as the book progresses it becomes increasingly clear he actually is very intelligent and knows many things. One of the other aspects of the scarecrow is his ability to know his own limitations and in the books he becomes ruler of Emerald city, but hands the crown over to Princess Ozma enabling her to take up her rightful position as ruler of all Oz, becoming one of her most trusted advisors. Most of these are traits that Buck shares with the scarecrow - we see season 1 buck reflected in the naijvtie of a 2 day old scarecrow, but once he hits his stride, we see that Buck is actually very intelligent, full of knowledge (random facts wiki Buck!) and comes up with great ideas - things that are being very clearly demonstrated in season 8 so far. He is also becoming much much better at knowing his limitations and that is something I think we will continue to see develop in the way it does in the scarecrow across the books.

And finally we have Eddie. Eddie is the Tin man through and through. The heart metaphors that surround Eddie - especially in season 5 are a very obvious and direct link to the tin man. and Like I said above the Tin man is the most compassionate, sensitive and tender and caring people in Oz. He is incredibly practical and competent as well and undertakes the scarecrows plans readily. He and the scarecrow pair up a lot across the book series and go on adventures together, their heart and brains combining to lead them to success in nearly all cases. The tin man also becomes a trusted advisor to Ozma and is considered to be a fair and wise person in Oz. These are all things we see portrayed in Eddie. He has this tough exterior, but inside he is very soft and tender and he only reveals that side of himself to those he can trust. Eddies heart is a key part of Buck and Eddies dynamic especially in combination with Bucks brains - we are so often shown Buck having an idea and Eddie carrying it out because he trusts Buck - the perfume bee run is just the latest in a long line of them and it is a key aspect of the Tin man and Scarecrow in the Oz books. I’ve spoken above about the other aspects of the tin man and his connection with various characters, but it really is the tin man and scarecrow dynamic that is at the heart of things in the wonderful wizard of Oz book especially (pun intended!!).

All of it plays into the Oz theming we’re being shown in 911 having an important meaning and it is very much connected to Eddie far more than any other character. One can argue that the books - at their core - are about following your heart and letting it lead you to your truth and to home and that is the very heart of Eddies story. Carla’s line about making sure he’s following his heart and not Christophers rings very true, and we’ve reached a point now where Eddie has to follow his own heart, because Christopher is not in the picture and they’ve chosen to go very very hard with the wizard of Oz metaphors - building on the foundations they already created in previous seasons and now being able to bring them to fruition.

I could literally write about this all day, but this is already ridiculously long and I'm not sure it even makes sense at this point! It was only supposed to be a short post! So I’m stopping here and letting you all go back to your lives - thank you for reading especially if you've made it this far! and let me know your thoughts!💜💜💜🐝🌪🌈

Tagging a few random people just in case they're interested! @buddiediaz118 @buddie911abc @fruityfirehose @sunflowerdigs

@spotsandsocks @livingwherethesidewalkends @satvojihusana @inell @eddiedisasterdiaz @lemotmo @courtjestermerlin @lover-of-mine @lovecolibri

[constelationprize]

Thinking many many thoughts about how Jean was Riko's partner for a YEAR and was still rooming with Goon #3. Because that was how unwilling Riko was to let go of Kevin. And how that implies that Jean was placed as his partner both because of the practicality of Kevin being gone AND as a punishment for letting him go in the first place. Being partners with Jean could actually slow Riko down depending on how often he's hurt (because I don't think Riko was all that exempt from the rules to the point where his partner's performance would completely not matter) and he was still placed there. Riko was just THAT angry at him over Kevin's escape. And all the while he was keeping Kevin's side of room like an altar, even back when he didn't even think Kevin could PLAY, because of an injury he caused.

[trickortpwk]

i can't believe i'm in my 20s processing a 1d member's death

[epickiya722]

I just realized and maybe I missed a scene or something... but...

Yuji never enjoys fighting. As in, he's not showing thrill in fighting with someone. Hasn't even cracked a smile whether it be out of pure enjoyment of fighting or just feeling a feral moment.

It's not like how Gojo, Sukuna, Toji, Todo, Nobara has done it a time or two, even Megumi.

But Yuji?

He's just dead serious. He ain't laughing, no jokes, he's not smirking. Instead, he has this look in his eyes that's like "your lights are about to go out". And sometimes, he's raging out.

Which, with a character like Yuji, it makes sense that he wouldn't enjoy fighting.

Yuji is a strong kid, but he's not boastful about it. He doesn't feel the need to show off what he can do. Anytime he says he "won't lose", he's thinking about winning for others. He took it to heart when Wasuke told him he's a strong kid and try to help others.

I have a thought, which is apart of another post working on, but I feel like this is one of the reasons why Sukuna despises Yuji.

Whenever Sukuna fights someone, he enjoys it. He's known as the King of Curses, the strongest sorcerer during the Heian period. And he likes to show it off.

Those he praises are those who push themselves to win and the reason would be out of pride.

Yuji is the opposite. He has the potential, yet doesn't care to be arrogant about it. And when he fights, it's not a game to him.

Sukuna probably has been observing Yuji all this time and thinking "how could this brat have all this strength and power and not relish in it?" He knows Yuji isn't really weak. He is always front row and center. Yuji even has the ability to suppress him and the first time he fought Sukuna, he was throwing skulls, punching at surfaces hard enough to shake them, etc. Maybe Sukuna called him boring because he saw that Yuji had that capability of giving him some entertaining match due to his skills, but Yuji wasn't showing enjoyment.

And what happened at the detention center I also believes plays a part, but I'll talk about that later in another post.

Anyways, yeah, Sukuna probably calls Yuji "weak" and "boring" to egg him on and finally get Yuji to snap into a "I'll show you weak" state to finally battle out to see who is the strongest. Not for the sake of the world, but for some actual entertainment.

[iceonmyteeth]

WONBIN / WE RIIZE EP. 18

[districtunrest]

Haymitch: *has the 'oh, no, sweetheart. I know you, but you don't know me' card locked and loaded for if/when she gets too close*

meanwhile, Katniss: *demonstrates Haymitch Abernathy Clairvoyance™ whenever she gives just one iota of thought toward him*

There’s only one way Haymitch could have won, and Peeta says it just as I’m reaching this conclusion myself. “He outsmarted the others,” says Peeta.

(next book)

Haymitch makes a beeline for his cliff and has just reached the edge when she throws the ax. He collapses on the ground and it flies into the abyss. Now weaponless as well, the girl just stands there, trying to staunch the flow of blood pouring from her empty eye socket. She's thinking perhaps that she can outlast Haymitch, who's starting to convulse on the ground. But what she doesn't know, and what he does, is that the ax will return. And when it flies back over the ledge, it buries itself in her head. The cannon sounds, her body is removed, and the trumpets blow to announce Haymitch's victory.

even more impressively, without Peeta's input,

The sixteen-year-old boy who won the second Quarter Quell must have had people he loved - family, friends, a sweetheart maybe -that he fought to get back to. Where are they now? How is it that until Peeta and | were thrust upon him, there was no one at all in his life? What did Snow do to them?

(pages later)

"My mother and younger brother. My girl. They were all dead two weeks after | was crowned victor. Because of that stunt | pulled with the force field," he answers. "Snow had no one to use against me."

which is why this:

Maybe he wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable.

is canon to me, no question.

[hypewinter]

This is a Danny POV tidbit from this right here. I didn't put it with the rest because I felt it might be a little jarring to suddenly switch to it. Plus it got way longer than anticipated.

Also tw warning for possible body horror and vivisection.

Anyway here we go!

--------

Danny's life was finally looking up. His rogues had calmed down with their attacks (They were now more like sparring matches than anything) and he was finally getting sleep which of course meant he was doing better in school. But the best part was his parents had accepted him!

It had taken him a lot of courage to talk to them. So many different scenarios had ran through his mind and his knew it was risky without any backup. He was just so tired though. Tired of hiding his secret, tired of dismantling their weapons behind their backs, tired of running from them, his own parents. So he had made the decision to tell them.

It was a little... rocky at first sure. His dad wouldn't stop spontaneously hugging him for a week and it didn't take an expert to know his mom still had her reservations. But his dad had assured him she was coming around and Danny trusted his dad.

That's why when Maddie came into his room one evening, with Jack out doing something, asking for help with something in the basement, he hadn't suspected anything. This was just her trying to bond after everything that went down right? That's what Danny told himself to ease the growing pit in his stomach.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs and painful electricity coursed through his body, Danny cursed himself for not listening to his instincts, the very things that had allowed him to survive for so long. Then everything went black.

--------

When Danny came to, he was strapped to a table. The lights overhead blinded him and made his growing headache much worse. Then he heard shuffling as someone got closer.

Danny craned his neck to see who it was, the guys in white perhaps? No, it was much worse.

"Mom?"

"Don't call me that ghost!" She snarled, "You may have somehow fooled my husband but you won't trick me." As she said this, she fixed her gloves and pulled a little table towards her.

Danny couldn't see what was on the table, but he didn't have to.

"Mom." He whimpered, "mom it's me, it's Danny. I swear it's me please."

But his words fell on deaf ears. Maddie plucked a scalpel off the table. "Once I expose you for the imposter you are, we'll be able to get back to our work."

"No. No no no no no no NO!" Danny jerked against his restraints. Tried everything, anything to get free. But it was no use. He couldn't transform, couldn't even go intangible. All he could do was look in horror as the scalpel descended towards his chest.

--------

He could vaguely hear his mother scribbling things down on a clipboard as she cut out his organs one by one. She also seemed to be muttering something. To herself or to a recording device Danny wasn't sure. All he could feel was pain.

He desperately wanted it to stop but he had long since exhausted his strength. Too weak to do anything about his predicament, Danny's mind instead tried to search for comfort inward.

In his mind, big strong arms surrounded him, protecting him from danger. His dad. He wanted his dad. He wanted Jack Fenton to wrap him in his arms and tell him everything was going to be alright.

He wanted to go back to a time where he would have believed that.

--------

Danny's first memory was of voices. Well he thinks that's his first memory. He gets a feel that there was a memory before that. One of...pain? But it was so distant and blurry, Danny decided that was a dream.

Danny was snapped out of his thoughts by the voices getting closer. One was loud and frantic. He didn't like that voice. The other was... tired maybe even sad or angry. Regardless it was much softer than the first voice.

The voices got closer and closer until Danny felt himself being picked up and embraced. He liked the embrace. It was warm and comforting. Somehow Danny knew, now that he was in these arms, he was safe. And so, he fell asleep, content to be enveloped in these warm, safe arms.

--------

There was a noise that startled Danny awake. He blinked at the white door in front of him. Strange, the last thing he remembered was a dark room. A scary room. The door opened to reveal a man. The man was weird with long hair pulled back into a ponytail. The weird man had a funny look on his face , as if he didn't want to see Danny or the Safe Arms. Then that man's face changed as Safe Arms spoke. He looked like he couldn't settle on which emotion to show was trying to show all of them. Danny concluded the weird man was in fact a funny man.

The man let them instead and the two began talking. Danny tried to stay awake but what they were talking about was sooooo boring and Safe Arm's hold was sooooo warm. In the end, Danny drifted off once again.

--------

They were moving, Danny knew that much. He also knew there was some sort of restraint keeping his still. Danny didn't like that. He wasn't sure why, he just didn't. So he tugged and fussed at it.

Next thing he knew, hands reached down and unclasped his restraints. Then the big strong hands pulled him up.

"Don't worry Danno." The voice said, "You're dad's got you and I'll protect you."

Dad. That's right, this was his dad. Danny cooed as he snuggled into his chest.

--------

Danny liked being with his dad but he wasn't sure he liked being in this city. It was stinky and the people were all weird. Then again it had a lot of ectoplasm and Danny loved ectoplasm. Plus he was able to play fun games with his dad here so maybe it wasn't all bad.

If only the weird people in costumes would stop staring at him through the window.

Next POV!

Edit: A paragraph was out of place. No idea how that happened.

[piko-power]

My Personal Headcanon On Why Amy's Love For Sonic Died Down Lately (and their dynamic)

When they were younger, Amy's love for Sonic was pretty extreme, and Sonic was, understandable, uncomfortable for the most part. He knows she means well, but that girl needs to calm down.

She can fight, but sometimes her hammer could only stun her enemies for a while. (It took her a long time to get rid of that robot that has been chasing her around Station Square.) She wasn't fully independent yet, even if she fought on her own a couple of times.

She often follows Sonic and his friends around. She is part of the team, but she was not a strong as she is now at the time yet.

She admires Sonic. A LOT. And Sonic knows that. Obviously, he could only run away from something like that, since he is NOT ready for that kind of thing, and whether Amy takes the hint or stop, she still loves him.

...BUT, I think things were slightly starting to change between her and Sonic after Lost World.

Remember this line?

You remember that? Okay, okay. Here's another totally unrelated question:

Before the events of Lost World, when was the last time Amy said "I love you" to Sonic out loud?

...YEP. 😈 (Unless I'm missing something, let me know lmao)

As more games and adventures come out, the characters get slightly older, and Amy is 12 to 13 now, and she is most certainly at that age where her body starts to change, but especially on how she views Sonic.

She knows she loves Sonic, but it was this moment during her change where she actually wanted to admit that she loves him.

I believe that Amy was all about sharing her affection to him not through confessions, but through obvious hints. Sonic totally got it, and there was no need to confess. Sonic knows she loves her.

...But she never said it. And she almost did, but she never did again for a while.

I think this was the moment in her life where, oh, God, she actually loves Sonic. SHE LOVES HIM, WHAT.

And she was looking back at all the times she had with Sonic that she can now see were unpleasant to Sonic (At least that's what she thinks) and that's probably why she isn't so expressive about her love to him than how she used to back then.

She wasn't sure what to do with this realization, and sets aside it for a while, and nearly stayed as her casual, peppy self... until the Eggman War happened.

During the 6 months of being with the Resistance, fighting Eggman's army all day and all night, all she can think of was Sonic.

She dreams that he still with not just her, but with her friends. She just wanted to see Sonic again, she just wants to be with her hero again.

But I'd like to think that she was also thinking about how she used to treat Sonic back when they were younger, how Sonic would almost always run away from her whenever she asks him out, or always look so uncomfortable whenever she gets so close to him.

Cringing at those memories big time, she wanted to change and hopefully when Sonic is okay and comes back, she can be better for him.

...Or will he still find her uncomfortable regardless? Would he even be happy to see her at all if he did survive?

But, hold on! She can't just give up her love for Sonic! He made her who she is today! A peppy, nature-loving, hammer-swinging, confident, brave... loud-mouth... annoying... Sonic obsessed... weak... pathetic... lonely little girl.

If she gives up on Sonic, it'll be like she gave up on the one hedgehog who saved her life. If she didn't she'll still be the same ol' Amy.

I also like to think she had parents a long while before she met Sonic, and was even expecting a little sister, but a robot invasion happened from where she was and attacked her parents and instead of trying to save them, after getting hurt, she ran away, hoping that they'll come back okay. But they never did.

She was all alone, and needed someone, a friend, a new family, someone who will hold her hand, anyone, to be there for her. But she was ignored by lots, and at that point, she's better off by herself, but still longed for company.

Eventually though, her tarot cards told her her future hero, and there might be hope after all. She encountered Sonic, held onto the belief of the cards tight, and the rest is history.

So, with that headcanon in mind, not only did Amy loose her parents that she didn't save because of her cowardliness (she was only so little at the time that happened) and also Sonic, who she thought will be her only hope, but now gone.

She doesn't even care if he did come back, he'd probably hate her now after everything she did to him, always talking about their "future wedding" or forcing him to go to Twinkle Park.

For the last few months of the war, it was nothing but Amy mentally beating herself up for either refusing to change or moving on, and they are both not fine choices.

She loves Sonic, but he does not love her, and she finally, finally realized it. And it's probably for the best if no body loved her at all.

But of course Sonic did survive and all of her worries wash away in an instant, she's just not expressive about her love for Sonic AT ALL now, since she's still worried about it but rather not mention it to Sonic because it doesn't matter.

If Sonic doesn't love her, then her feelings don't matter to him, and according to Amy herself, that is okay.

But also, I'd like to think that Sonic was thinking about his friends a lot up in the Death Egg for the past months, sometimes it's Tails (worried for his safety), sometimes it's Shadow (because he's wondering why he would join Eggman.) At some point, for a few days, Amy was in his mind the longest, and he felt bad about how he thought he was rude and pushy to her.

He wondered if she's not thinking about it too much, and if she is, will she give up on him? Yeah, he doesn't feel the same and still not looking for a relationship, but it's so strange but interesting how anyone could ever like someone like Sonic the Hedgehog. Amy was never afraid to show that, and she probably might be now.

He couldn't help but feel guilty. They were kids when she was like this, but he was so... arrogant at the time too. Not a lot happened at the time yet. He'd always have trouble expressing how much he value his friends, until he shattered the Paradox Prism. (I'd like to think Prime took place before Forces. It makes sense.)

She is such a sweet girl, and he probably made her believe that he didn't care for her. Just because he doesn't feel the same, that doesn't mean he hates her at all.

He wished he never ran away from Amy... Worrying for his little bro and wishing to be a good person for Amy was when Sonic cried in the Death Egg for the first and only time.

Frontiers, in my opinion, is kind of confirming their dynamic now. Sonic is a lot more sincere and kinder to Amy and she is not all hyperactive and lovey to Sonic. There is probably a real reason for this now.

They are both hiding their feelings from them, and they are both unaware of this. Amy, hiding her mental issues from Sonic, and Sonic, hiding his guilt away from Amy.

None of those things are important now. Sonic is with Amy and Amy is with Sonic. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

They don't care if they'll ever be something more when they get older. None of that matters anymore. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

Maybe someday they'll both talk about it, but for now, the present is important. They care about each other too much to think about it right now.

It's the kind of love that is unbreakable. It doesn't even have to be romantic. It's just love. Love is important for everyone, in any form. It's something Sonic and his friends need. And especially Sonic and Amy.

Amy Rose is the living embodiment of love, and without her, a lot would go downhill for Sonic and co. Heck, if it weren't for her, Shadow wouldn't have never remembered Maria's promise, which lead him to save the world with Sonic, before he temporarily disappeared from their lives for a while.

She is always there to lend a helping hand for anybody, even bad guys like Metal Sonic, and despite what she had been through, both in Forces and headcanon wise, she still fights back, even without her hammer.

She will pick you back up on your feet, reminding you that you are important and that you are loved, and that you should never give up. It's pretty much the words of encouragement she herself needed also...

She is still the happy, hyper, butt-kicking hedgehog we all know and love, but she still need someone to pick her back up on her feet after so long. Thankfully, she has her friends and her blue hero. The hero who made her who she is today.

I think Amy has no idea how important she thought she is, but Sonic does. Sonic knows fully well how important she is to a lot of people. It's about time he returns the favor to her. It's his turn to remind her how much a lot of people love her.

How much he loves her.

And I feel like The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog was the moment where their dynamic really shined, but also the starting point of their relationship not only healing, but also the next chapter of what's to come for them.

Everyone, friends old and new, gathered around for a special birthday. A birthday for the confident, unshakable, and radiant Amy Rose.

It was such a special moment in Amy's life. After years of chasing and following the people she look up to, she is part of the team, but most importantly, she is part of the family.

She is fully realized as someone more than just a fangirl, but someone strong, courageous, creative, kind and a big inspiration for others.

I feel like this moment here...

-is where Amy is eternally grateful to call her friends her family. A family she thought she'll never have again. She's not alone anymore, and as long as they're by her side, she'll never will be again.

Her chasing days are over. She's finally caught up to them. She's finally home.

And it's all thanks to Sonic.

If it weren't for him, she'd probably be alone forever. Her past moments with Sonic might be embarrassing to look back on for a while, but they are good memories regardless, because they involve him.

Sonic saved her life in more ways than one, and despite everything, he's grateful to have her too.

He cares about her. He really does... And in her eyes, that all she needed to know. As long as Sonic loves her in his own way, she'll be happy.

Amy hasn't given up on Sonic. As long as Amy always supports him, he'll be happy.

Maybe sometime in the future, they can talk about their problems, but that's a story for another time. At this point, they need to. Right now, they are happy. They are okay.

They are here for each other. They are finally better for each other now.

"You guys won't ever leave me, right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

[sincerely-sofie]

*Skitters up to you on all fours and drops this in your lap, then scrambles up the walls and onto the ceiling and immediately falls asleep*

Comic time! Lucky wakes up in the middle of the night and has a chat with Sen in this one.

[citrine-elephant]

WIP

figured i'd spoil y'all with a spoiler <3

[wolfjackle-creates]

How about Tim Drake and Danny Fenton with 7 and/ 54!

7. Trapped in a room/closet/elevator

54. Kidnapping

Well, doesn't that just give ideas. I'm going with Tim POV on this one.

Word Count: 1.6k

-----

Tim came back to awareness with the feeling of ropes cutting into his wrists and ankles and the absence of a mask on his face. He was tied to a very uncomfortable chair.

His head hurt, but more like a hangover than physical trauma so he must've been drugged. Where had he been?

The museum, that's right. He'd been at the museum. There'd been a class of out-of-state high school students visiting and they were acting strange. Bruce sent him to check up on them, make sure they were who they'd said they were.

Without moving, he mentally checked his body. Nothing to be alarmed by. Maybe a new bruise or two and his wrists and ankles would be sore. He was wearing his shirt and pants, but his shoes and socks had been removed along with any of his possessions.

So he let himself focus on the rest of the room. An arrhythmic tapping sound was coming from just a few feet away. But his head was still foggy from whatever he'd been drugged with and he couldn't figure out what it was.

He couldn't hear anything else.

So he let himself moan slightly and shifted his weight as if he was only just waking up. He opened his eyes slightly and didn't bother hiding the wince of pain at the light from the bare bulb that hung from the ceiling.

"Hey, cool! You're awake!" exclaimed someone. They sounded young.

Tim looked over and saw a boy about his own age also tied to a chair. The tapping noise had been him rocking back and forth on his toes. The room they were in was small, more of a closet really. About five feet by five feet and shelving had clearly only been removed recently. The door had no window. No way to know how long he'd been out.

"Where are we?" asked Tim. "What happened?" Tim narrowed his eyes against the light and looked closer. The kid looked familiar, where had he seen him?

"You okay?" the kid asked.

"Killer headache. Better than a concussion, I guess, but these drugs, man. Did they not get you with them?" And then he placed the kid, he'd been part of the group he'd been following.

The boy shrugged. "Things like that usually wear off for me pretty quickly. I'm Tim. Who're you? This your first kidnapping?"

"I— What? I'm Tim."

"Huh, cool. We have the same name. They kidnapped us because my dad's Bruce Wayne and they want ransom. When they found two boys of a similar age with black hair and blue eyes in the museum, they took us both rather than waste time figuring out who was who."

And suddenly it made sense what this kid was doing. He was trying to trick them into thinking he was Tim. Perhaps so Tim could escape or just to sow confusion. Tim shook his head and winced when that just caused throbbing pain. "What are you talking about? I'm Tim Drake, adopted son of Bruce Wayne."

"Dude, why are you lying? We both know I'm Tim."

"You're the liar," he shot back. He couldn't let a civilian take the fall for him.

But before their argument could continue to cycle, the door banged open, making the pounding in Tim's head worse. Two men stood there: one holding a gun, the other a phone. Most likely he was videotaping them. Both of them wore more guns and knives openly.

"Look like Sleeping Beauty's finally awake," sneered the one holding the phone.

Tim pretended to be afraid as was protocol for civilian kidnappings. "Who are you? What do you want?"

His companion, however, did not seem to get the memo. "You'd better let us go right now or you will regret it."

"Looks like we've got a feisty one on our hands, eh?" asked Gun-kidnapper.

"Smile at the camera, boys, we'll be sending this to Daddy Wayne. Better pray he pays up. Otherwise worse'll happen."

"Worse than what?" demanded his companion. "I've been in detentions worse'n this."

"Shut up!" hissed Tim.

"You better listen to your pal, boy, because you just volunteered for our first demonstration," said Phone-kidnapper. "Hear that, Brucie? We're gonna shoot your boy, or maybe not your boy. And you'll pay us the demanded ransom if you don't want us to do it again. Every half hour you delay, we'll put another bullet in one of these boys."

Without delay, Gun-kidnapper raised his weapon and shot. But he missed as Tim's companion managed to get enough leverage to knock his chair over.

Not that it was enough to stop the kidnapper who simply shot again. And this time he didn't miss. Tim watched as blood quickly began dripping from the boy's thigh onto the floor. At least his position on the floor meant it was elevated.

The two kidnappers laughed before leaving.

"Shit, are you okay? Why'd you do that?" Tim pulled at his bonds. The other boy needed medical attention ASAP. Worth using some of his Robin Training to help out the brave, idiotic kid.

The kid chuckled through clenched teeth. "I've had worse, it's fine."

"Worse? That's a gunshot wound!"

"And last Tuesday, I was hit by a spear and lasers, bit by a vulture, and punched through a wall over the span of, like, four hours."

That gave Tim pause. If that was true, and he seemed oddly unconcerned about a bullet wound for it not to be, he was clearly not a normal teen. "Who are you?"

The boy grinned. "I told you, I'm Tim Drake! Now, do you trust me?"

"Trust you to do what?" Tim had almost gotten one hand free.

"We're getting out of here, Timbuk-two."

Before Tim could blink, the kid did...something...and all his bonds fell away. Then he lunged at Tim, pushing him out of the chair and into the wall. They came through into what looked like an average Gotham warehouse.

Tim bit his tongue as they continued flying through the wall and ended up outside. It was still daytime, but dusk was getting close.

"What the hell?" whispered Tim. "You're a meta?"

"Not exactly, but close enough. I'm Danny. I can keep us invisible and intangible, but I can't block sound. So only speak when needed. Want to figure out who these guys are or leave?"

"You need to get medical attention. Much as I want to know who these guys are, we're leaving."

"I'm fine! I've had worse."

Tim looked down from where they were floating and noted the blood dripping to the ground. "Dude, you're bleeding. We're leaving."

That seemed to knock Danny out of it. "Oops. Suppose you're right. Where should we go?"

"There's a doctor in crime alley who treats everyone. She won't talk about your meta status and she'll be able to contact Bruce for me to let him know we're out."

Danny hesitated a moment before asking, "Can you promise she won't talk? Because there're people who'd like nothing more than to strap me down and cut me open to figure out how I work."

"Fly a few buildings over and land on a roof so I can get a tourniquet on your leg. Are those the same people who hurt you last Tuesday?"

Danny did as directed. "Believe it or not, no. That guy wants me to be his son."

Once the landed, Danny let him go. "What the fuck?" Tim patted himself down hoping that the kidnappers had left him with anything useful only to sigh. He'd have to make do with his shirt.

"I know. He's a total fruitloop. Nah, it's the government that wants to vivisect me. And a few others, but I think they'd stop once they realized who I am." Danny looked him up and down. "But it looks like you might have a story or two to tell as well."

"You are going to tell me everything, Danny," said Tim as he set about tearing his shirt into strips. "Bruce would totally take you in if you need a safe place to stay. Especially after you helped me escape."

"And what can you do about it? There's laws that make experimentation on people like me legal."

That made Tim pause in what he was doing, but only for a minute. "If that's true, I happen to be friends with two very good investigative journalists who would love to do a series of articles. They've a good track record of getting unjust laws overturned."

Danny didn't say anything for a moment and Tim looked over at him. It seemed like he was actually contemplating the offer. "Really? I'll want proof before I talk. And I'll need to reach out to some friends for a second opinion."

"Only sensible. Okay, this is as good as I'm gonna get it. I'm going to bandage your leg now."

"Just do it."

Looking at the wound, Tim could see the bullet hadn't passed through Danny's thigh but had seemed to have fallen out. Perhaps when he'd density-shifted them? But then why did their clothes remain intact? He'd have to ask later. Instead, he focused on making a bandage and tourniquet out of the strips of his shirt.

"Okay, that's as good as it's going to get. How high can you fly?"

"Higher than you can breathe."

"I see. Well, fly us up a bit so I can figure out where we are in the city, then I'll give you directions to Leslie's clinic."

"Will do!"

With how well Tim knew the streets of Gotham from the sky, it was the work of moments to get his bearings and fifteen minutes later, they were using the back entrance to Leslie's clinic.

A week later, Wayne Manor had a new resident and Clark Kent and Lois Lane published their first joint article on the Anti-Ecto acts.

-----

I honestly went into this one without a plan, something I usually hate doing. But I like how it turned out! Let me know what y'all think.

I've one more prompt to fill which should happen by the end of the week. Still accepting new ones, but the turn around will be a bit longer I'm afraid.

[bittybeanie]

oh boy! time to post a new fic! I can't believe it's been *checks calendar* ....oh. uh. oops. ignore that! it's the fourth and final installment of (this) aspec reigen series, complete with a lite™ version of a couple different kinks and finally getting to touch the peen! this one's real long, folks, clocking in at about 9,500 words, so you might wanna get a nice beverage and settle in.

content notes: thigh riding, themes of consent, drunk almost sex, a discussion about the drunk almost sex in the following scene, praise kink, a very loose (literally) definition of bondage, and so so many pet names. minors please don't interact!

also on ao3!

It takes more than a couple tries for you to get settled on the bed. You’re too close, then too far, and Reigen can’t get comfy, and your hand keeps sliding out from under you, and he can’t decide how he wants your leg angled, and there’s too many clothes, then all at once so few clothes that it feels like too much at once and you hastily agree to put your shirts back on, not wanting to break the already fragile layer of quiet hope.

Finally, finally, everything is perfect.

Awkward, stilted, and a little tense, and you’re not sure how long your leg will let you keep it just barely raised like this before it cramps up, but he’s here, embarrassed but steadfast, breath coming out in shivery gasps, hovering over your thigh, one hair fisted in the back of your hair. If he tips over, there’s no way you’re not going with.

Perfect.

His thighs shake as he holds himself up, deciding which direction he wants to move. You reach for the small of his back to steady him. "Does this count as keeping my hands out of the way?" He nods, so you test the waters by sliding your other hand up his thigh.

"As long you don’t- just no direct touching. Close to is fine, just not… well." He moves a hand back and forth across where he’s hovering over your thigh.

“Keep off the goods. Gotcha."

"The goods? Awful. You're awful, I swear."

You slide your hand up, just barely skimming your fingernails over his hip when you catch the hem of his shirt, and his cock twitches in his boxers.

"The goods don't seem to agree."

"Oi." Despite his protests, the laughter loosens him, and he relaxes enough to lean back into your knee. “Fine, fine, just stop saying goods.”

“Alright.” He raises an eyebrow. You lift both hands in surrender. “I promise! I will never again use ‘the goods’ to refer to your perfect, gorgeous, suckable-”

“I get it! I get it.” He grabs onto your shoulder - maybe in an effort to distract you, or maybe just to keep his balance - as he shifts closer. You can practically feel the heat radiating from his ears. “Here, actually, can you-? Hm.” He presses a hand against the inside of your other leg, thumb digging in as he gives a shove. He slides a knee into the newly free space between your legs, leaning forward to get a better angle. Your hands settle back on his waist.

“Better?”

“Much.” He lets out a little hum as he pushes his hips forward, and you have to stamp down a whimper at the feeling, his dick heavy and warm even through fabric.

“Didn’t mean to just push like that, though. Sorry.”

“S’okay. I’ll survive a little manhandling, as a treat.” You hit the last “t” sound with a click of your tongue, and he falls into your neck with a laugh. You trace patterns on his hips as he moves, tracking the motion as you press your fingers into his skin. “God, how do you get your hips to move that smooth? It’s sorta mesmerizing.”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know, I’m just- I wasn’t thinking about it. S’just what f- ha, feels good.” His breath fans out across your collarbone, warm and fast.

“Yeah? You like using my thigh, baby? No thoughts other than what feels good? Your own personal toy to get yourself off against?”

“Oi.” His hips stutter once before he falls back into a slower rhythm. His fingers dig into your shoulder as he pulls you closer.

“Too much?”

“That’s not how I think of you.”

You can’t help but laugh, a light chuckle coming out in a breath against his hair. “I know, ‘Taka, I know.” You slide your hands under his shirt, over his stomach and up to his collarbone. “But would it really be so bad to belong to you?”

“I- fuck.” There’s a moment of worry when he shoves you away, but then he’s scrambling for the hem of his shirt and pulling.

“Are you sure?” It’s a formality, uttered even as you’re already reaching to help slide the fabric over his elbows, but it’s one you can’t even imagine going without.

“Very.” He lifts himself off of you to push his boxers down, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he shimmies them all the way off. The mattress shifts and pitches him over, and you hurry to grab his arm.

He crawls back over to straddle your thigh, the tip of his cock tapping lightly against your side before he leans back onto his ankles.

“Do I need to get-?” You chuck his shirt into infinity and gesture vaguely to the bedside drawer. He’s technically never told you that he started keeping lube in there, but he hasn’t made much effort to keep the secret either.

He shakes his head. “I’m close. Won’t matter.”

He tries to go back to rutting against you, anchoring his hands on your waist to tilt his hips this way and that, but something about the new angle is off, and he can’t get any good contact.

“Oh no, now horrible, your dick is just so hard it won’t stay down on its own.”

He clicks his tongue at you as he scoots to sit closer, flush making its way from his ears to the edges of his cheeks.

“That gorgeous curve probably isn’t helping, either. In this case, anyway. Be an absolute treat to have inside me, though.” You press your thumbs in just above his knees, encouraging him to spread his legs more, and he jumps with a squeak, hands flying to grab yours. “Sorry, sorry, di-”

“No, it’s-” He pulls your hands together, just in front of his stomach, and the tip of his cock brushes against you. For a moment, you think he’s going to pull down, but he guides your hands back to his hips, pressing them into his skin as he rolls his hips. “Here.”

He gives up and puts his hand flat over his dick, pinning it down against your leg. He lifts himself to adjust the angle, just his tip dragging along your skin until he bumps into your hip, precum rolling out in a thin line over your thigh. When he pulls back, he grinds down insistently, coating his length and covering what isn’t already marked of your thigh so he can slide more easily. After a few impatient jolts of his hips, he settles back into a rhythm, smooth and fluid, and lets up on the pressure of his hand. He slings his other arm over your shoulder to pull you closer, and he falls forward to bury his face in your neck, whining into your collarbone.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was close, because it only takes a few drags of his cock against you for him to seize up, body tensing before going boneless, cum rolling over his hand and onto your hip as he slumps against you in a mess of pants and sighs. You slide your hands up his back to support his full weight, pressing kisses to his hair as he catches his breath.

“Just… gimme a second, I can cl- get you- god, my legs.” He rolls off of you with none of his usual grace, limbs falling everywhere at once, lightly smacking your arm as he goes limp.

You laugh and push his hair back from his face. You don’t bother to untangle your legs from his, accepting your fate of needing a shower later in exchange for getting to lean down to kiss his cheek.

“Eh, let it dry.”

“I’m starting to think you like it more than tolerate it.”

“If you haven’t gotten the hint by now that I want you to absolutely cov-”

He gives you a shove, rolling his hand so there’s no real force behind it, but you seize the chance to topple with a dramatic moan, one hand falling theatrically across your forehead as your eyes flutter closed. 

“Oh, stop it.” He crawls over and props himself up on his elbows. You can feel his breath fanning over your collarbone, stilted like he’s trying not to laugh. You crack one eye open, breaking into giggles when you see his forced serious expression, eyebrows pinched together and one cheek sucked into his mouth to keep the smile off his face. He breaks at your laughter, breathing out through his nose and pressing his forehead to yours. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Oh, you could take me anywhere, handsome.” You waggle your eyebrows suggestively, and he rolls onto his back with an exasperated groan. You laugh again and sit up, pulling a blanket over him so you can settle in without accidentally brushing somewhere he’d rather you didn’t.

“Hey, Arataka?”

“I love you, too.”

“That, too.” You chuckle. “But I have a real question this time.”

“Oh.” He turns his head. “Sure.”

“After you… when you took my hands earlier, were you…?” The fleeting moment of contact between him and your hands floats through your mind. You can’t help but wonder what he was thinking in the moment he hesitated, but it feels weirdly invasive to ask so bluntly. “Sorry, never mind, this is a weird line of thought.”

You lay down beside him, craning your neck to rest your head on his shoulder. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together as his thumb smooths up your wrist.

“Do you mean…” He takes a steadying breath, grip tightening almost imperceptibly. “Do you mean after the clothes came off?”

You nod. For a moment, he stills, not even breathing.

“I was… I wanted so badly to let you touch me. I thought if I didn’t have to say it, if I could just… imply, then I could get around it, but,” he sighs heavily, and he sounds tired when he continues, “I panicked.”

You’re both quiet, long enough that you startle even yourself when you finally break the silence.

“It’s not a bad idea.”

“...Panicking?”

“No, angel. Implying.” He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “Maybe you just have to imply for a little longer.”

“I’m not following.”

“What if you left your hand on top of mine? That way it’s like- it’s the same as when you do it, but it sort of, hm, bridges the gap? All the sexy, none of the surprise.”

For a long moment, you’re not sure if he’s quiet because he’s thinking or because he’s falling asleep.

He hums, shoulder rolling under your head, and he pulls you tighter against his side.

+

"Okay." You shift nervously, tucking your foot underneath yourself, then deciding against it and unfolding your legs. "Walk me through the zones again."

"I'm not a city planning map." He rolls his eyes, but he takes your hand. You’re not sure which one of you the gesture is supposed to comfort.

You shift back onto your knees.

"Here up, anything goes." He points at the middle of his chest. "But try to stay- so more like, well, from maybe..." He gestures to his collarbone and wags his finger up and down. "Here to here, really."

When he looks back at you, you can tell he's waiting for something. You settle for a small nod.

"Right. A-and then, here to here," he points from his chest to just above his hip, "Hands are fine. Doing... whatever." He steadies himself with another deep breath and rushes through the rest. "Legs, stay still, and anything... direct we'll do the- on the- yeah, got it, that's all."

You let him sit for a moment to make sure there's nothing he forgot. His grip on your hand tightens, and you swear he moves to pull you closer, but he must decide against it at the last second.

"Whose hand is going on top again? Sorry, we've swapped it so many times I can't remember if we decided."

"Oh. Right. Um." He hovers his right hand over his left, then swaps them, then swaps them again. “Yours under mine.”

“Got it.” You reach for him, letting him pull your hand up to his collar. "And you know you can tell me to stop at any time?"

"You tell me that every time."

"It's important every time."

He swallows thickly and traces a circle on the back of your hand with his thumb. "Yeah. I know."

You shift to pull your legs off to the side, then cross them again, then sit back up on your knees. Gently taking the collar of his shirt in your hands, you trail one thumb along the edge of the fabric until you reach the top button. "And can I do this, or would you like to?"

He nods before realizing there were two options in your question, then points at you, then at your hands, then flashes you a thumbs up. "Yeah. Go ahead."

"Well, now hold on, I have manners. I'm not going straight for the goods." He laughs and shimmies to sit up straighter, letting his legs straighten out in front of him. "How about the pants later?"

"Uh, right, that's, I didn't think about that. I mean it would make sense that you're going to be- I mean it's not like-"

"Arataka."

"Yeah." He swallows.

"I'm not going to be offended if you’d like to take off your own pants."

He pauses, staring down at his knee. Eventually, he shakes his head. "I want you to do it."

"And your-?"

"Just do it at the same time."

"Got it." You take a steadying breath of your own. "I won't stay there, but is it okay if I straddle you for a little bit? I wa-"

His hands are pulling at your waist before you can get your legs properly unfolded, and you almost tumble over him. He laughs an apology as you move on top of him, hovering over his legs to avoid making any real contact.

You brush his bangs back from his face, following through with the motion until your fingers tangle in the shorter strands of hair at the back of his head. He tilts to follow your hand, craning his neck to keep you from pulling.

"Ready?"

He nods slightly.

"I’d like a verbal yes for this one, lovely."

He swallows. You watch his Adam's apple bob.

"Yeah, yes.” He nods again. His hand jerks, taking yours with it, and he awkwardly lets your hand fall into his lap. You do your best not to move. “I trust you."

You drag your gaze back up to his face, searching for any last signs of reluctance. A bead of sweat trails down his temple, and you’re certain if you put your hand to his cheek you’d worry he had a fever. Sure enough, when you slide your fingers along his jaw, he’s hot to the touch, and the tips of his ears are turning brighter shades of red by the second.

He clears his throat, pushing his jaw into your palm. “Are you gonna-?”

“In a minute.” You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip. “I’m savoring.”

He scoffs at that, the same scoff he uses when he sees somebody do something stupid in public, and you take the opportunity to catch him by surprise, surging forward to push him down onto the bed. His hands go to your shoulders on instinct but he pulls them back almost immediately, hovering awkwardly in the space between you. Using your grip on his chin, you angle his head so you can lean down and kiss him without knocking your noses together.

Once you’re sure you can support yourself without falling on him, you allow your free hand to trail down, tracing down the muscles in his neck, across his collarbone and back, finally settling on the first button of his shirt. It takes a little effort to get it undone with just one hand, but you manage it, and you allow yourself to dip down as you settle into a rhythm, lips ghosting along Reigen’s skin as you uncover more of it.

He’s shivering, hand shaking where it hovers over yours on the last button of his shirt. When you slide your hand back up along his side, his hand falls back to the bed, pulling at a wrinkle in the sheets.

You kiss along his jaw, savoring the feeling every time his breath catches in his throat under your lips. Your hand trails down along his side, wrapping around him to hold his waist when he arches up into the press of your thumb. He hums, eyelids fluttering, and you dare to slide your hand down, ever so slightly, thumb brushing over his waistband and back onto bare skin.

He grabs for you, grasp tight around your wrist, almost painful before he slowly relaxes and drags your hand back up toward his chest. You push yourself off him, swinging your leg to kneel beside him.

“Here, let’s try this.” You guide him to sit up. Once he’s situated against the headboard, you settle in by his thigh, your knee pressing gently into his hip. One hand traces circles and patterns as you trail down to his stomach. “Still good?”

He hums, but he scrambles for your wrist again, holding on tighter and tighter the closer you get to the button on his pants.

“You’re allowed to change your mind, y’know. I can let you do it.”

“That’s not- mm.” He relaxes his death grip on your arm but keeps his thumb hooked around it. After a few tries to let go completely, his head tips forward into your shoulder. “I thought I would… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and slowly pull away. “Nothing to apologize for.” You cup his face with both hands and gently turn him, but he doesn’t hold your gaze for long. 

“Do you want to keep going? Should I…?”

He opens his mouth, but says nothing. His expression is pinched, tight with something you’re not sure how to label. His fingers press together, thumb and index, thumb and middle, thumb and ring, thumb and pinky, over and over as you lean back, nodding softly.

“Stay in bed?” Your voice is shakier than you’d like. You swear he flinches, and you clear your throat. “Or move to the couch and watch something?”

“Couch.” He nods once, stiff and harsh, and swallows thickly. “Thanks.”

He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, and slides out of bed, starting to button his shirt back up as he wanders into the other room.

You keep nodding as if in a trance, and you follow him out. 

+

Despite the now faint memory of some friend of a friend forcefully inviting you, there's not a single soul at the party you recognize. With the exception of a few people dancing by the kitchen, closer to the speakers, everyone has settled for taking a seat and awkwardly bobbing their head. You’ve repeated the same three lines of small talk more times than you can count, it's just cold enough that you've had the chills the whole time while still managing to feel overwhelmingly stifled, and the music is so awful you wonder how somebody hasn’t tried to change it yet. But there's alcohol, the good stuff that somebody is clearly very particular about, and lots of it. You can't remember how much you've had, and that fact is enough to tell you it was probably too much, but it doesn't stop you from taking whatever the host is passing out when they wander through.

You think Reigen might be the only person doing worse than you. He looks... woozy. His face is flushed and his eyes are lidded like he might throw up, pass out, or both at any moment. At one point he took a tumble when he tried to sit down, graciously ignored by everyone else, and you had to throw your arm around his waist to keep him from sliding down the front of the couch again. He's leaning on you for support every time he moves, and if there were anything left in his can you’re sure he would be spilling it on you right now.

He's restless at the best of times, you know this, but even through the fog you can tell something is off. Not wrong exactly, but he keeps giving you this sideways glance, digging his fingers into your thigh to steady himself and then yanking his hand away, knocking his head into your shoulder and muttering something you haven't been able to make out.

He laughs - way too loudly at something you're not sure was supposed to be funny - and stands abruptly. Your hand around his waist falls limp on the couch, and he sways without the support.

"I'm going to the re- the ba- I gotta piss."

Nobody but you pays him any attention. He takes a wobbly step forward, knocking his foot into the leg of the coffee table, but he doesn't seem fazed. His knees bend at a weird angle as he shifts his weight from foot to foot, then he straightens back up and whirls around to face you. The momentum sends him tumbling back down, and you manage to catch him before his nose smashes into your jaw.

"I guess you better help me there."

"Yeah." Your voice crackles from dehydration. You have to clear your throat and try again to get a recognizable sound to come out. "Alright." You do a quick mental scan of your legs to make sure they'll support you before you motion for him to get up so you can stand. He does, grabbing your wrist and pulling with the conviction of somebody who does not need help walking.

The gears in your head start to turn.

He drags you along, glancing over his shoulder as he rounds the corner into the hallway, only stumbling once when he has to screech to a halt and back up to yank a door open. He pushes you inside, pulling the door closed behind him after he follows you in.

It's pitch black, and you're not sure if the overwhelming lemon smell is coming from Reigen or something in the room. You reach out to find him, but your fingers brush against something cold and smooth instead, and it's not until it tilts and hits you in the head that you realize it's probably a handle for something. Reigen's hand whacks into your arm and he holds on tight, fingers digging into your shoulder as he pulls you forward.

"I don't think that was the right door."

"Hm? Oh, sure." You can feel the air beside you moving until eventually his other hand finds your face, one finger dragging across your cheek until it hits your nose. "No, I- yeah, I know."

"Then wh-"

He pushes, hard and sudden. You fight to keep your balance as you adjust to the weird backwards lean you find yourself in. Reigen hisses as he pulls his fingers out from between you and the wall.

"Dumb, that was so dumb. Sorry." He fumbles for your waist to guide you backwards, and you feel his hips press against you when he reaches past your head to lean on the wall.

Everything clicks together all at once.

Your hands fly to where his waist should be. Once you find him, you're not sure if you want to shove him away or pull him in closer.

"You're super drunk. I don't know if-"

"Tha's the point." The hand on your face slides around until his thumb catches your bottom lip. He sways, like talking about it has made him remember how much he's had to drink. When he leans against you, he's heavier than normal, like he can’t support his weight anymore. "Liquid courage."

"I’m drunk." 

"Mm. Shit." He pulls away, just barely, and he nods. "Do you mind?"

Your mouth drops open uselessly. All your thoughts feel like static, indecipherable noise screaming for you to do something, if only you could figure out what. He's squirming now, like it hurts to stay still. You realize he's whimpering at the same time you realize he's grinding his hips against your leg.

“M’fine.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and drops his hands as he shuffles around. You take the chance to stand back up. When you finally bump into each other again, he wraps his arms around you and squeezes, his breathing coming out in pants against your chest.  He hooks one leg around yours, tapping his foot against your heel to bring your leg forward. You make a strangled humming sound when he grinds against your thigh.

"Hey, where's your hand?"

"My...?" You suddenly remember you have hands. You allow yourself a moment of silence for all the time you could have been holding onto him before you push one hand forward. It smacks into what you think is his stomach. "Sorry. Here."

"S'kay. Stay put." You keep your hand pressed against him as he leans backward. You're not sure when he stopped holding onto you, but one of his hands is suddenly over yours, and a loud zip cuts through the sound of you both breathing. He slides his hand down, dragging yours with it. Your fingers glide along his skin, smooth and soft, until you brush against a patch of hair.

A sobering panic cuts through you.

He must realize what he's doing at the same time you do, because you both freeze. His grip tightens. He guides your hand away from him slowly, stopping when he makes contact with your side.

"Stay... stay put."

He turns and scrambles for the door. Something falls beside you when he misses the doorknob, then you're squinting as light floods in from the hallway. You can make out the silhouette of him sprinting into the room diagonal from where you're standing, and then there's the unmistakable sound of vomiting.

Your place is only two blocks away - no more than a ten minute walk.

You call a cab service.

+

It smells like coffee.

When you try to sit up, the room spins. You end up in a sort of half sit, half lean as you grab onto the side of the mattress, willing everything to stay still. You take stock of the things that are clear enough to look at, slowly making sense of what happened once you got home.

You're laying on top of the covers, still in your clothes from last night. One shoe is in the doorway, and the other is nowhere in sight, probably somewhere closer to the entrance. The coffee smell, growing more enticing by the second, is a good sign Reigen's in the kitchen.

You slide onto the floor beside your bed, not trusting yourself to stand up without falling just yet, to rummage for more comfortable clothes. Once you manage to get changed, you stand up slowly, and make your way to the kitchen.

Reigen must have grabbed a set of pajamas at some point last night, though you can't remember when. His back is turned to you; he's lazily stirring something on the stove. Two steaming cups of coffee sit on the counter beside him. Before you can decide whether you want to say something and risk startling him, he seems to sense you standing there, and he turns around with a weak smile.

"Hey."

"Morning?" It's both a greeting and a question, because you have no idea what time it is.

"Yeah." He lets out a breathy chuckle. "How, um, how you feeling?"

Your head is throbbing so bad your teeth hurt, your legs and back are sore, and you have a looming sense of guilt.

"I think I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine, really." He clicks off the fire and reaches for a bowl. "I told you, I felt basically back to normal after I- well, um, you know. Thanks again, by the way, for car- for carrying me."

You nod softly, feeling a little useless as he hands you what looks and smells like a very delicious soup.

"Reigen, I am so-" "I didn't mean-"

He reaches for a second bowl. "You first." When you start to shake your head, he rolls his wrist in a "go on" motion. "Please. I'm not actually sure how to say mine yet."

"Right." You swallow thickly, fidgeting with your spoon. Deep in thought, you miss Reigen slipping past you. He clears his throat and gestures to the seat across from him. You slide into the chair. Your spoon clanks against the bowl as you set it down. "I, um. Shit, I'm so sorry."

He seems surprised, a spoonful of soup halfway to his lips.

"What for?"

"Wh-" You blink. "Every... thing? I- I know sorry doesn't even cover it, but I-"

"Whoa, hey, okay." He shakes his hand in front of him. "Never mind, I'll go first, because I think you got the wrong idea and I'm not gonna let you apologize for anything that happened."

"But you trusted me, and I-"

"And I still do. That's- that was the whole- look, I-" He sighs. His spoon clanks as he sets it down, abandoned in favor of wringing his hands together. "I set you up."

"You-?"

"I didn't mean to! I thought- It was stupid, and I should have just told you what I was trying to do, I know , but I- I wasn’t exactly thinking straight, and I thought if I could speed up the process, then- I mean, there's only so many times you can put up with almost getting to- if I could- ugh, sorry, hang on."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. You swear your headache is reacting sympathetically, because pain shoots between your temples, dull but persistent. He goes to retrieve the coffees from the kitchen, just cool enough to drink, and you down some as soon as he hands you a mug.

"You've been so patient, and I know you would never do anything I didn't want, but I... I keep overthinking it. And I thought it would be the perfect excuse to... to not have to think about it at all. I mean that's- that's just what people do at parties, right, and- I mean, it was... ugh." He sits back down, his posture unnaturally rigid. He chooses his next words carefully, pausing between words as if he’s testing out different sentences in his head. "I trusted you… to not take it further than I was comfortable with… more than I trusted myself to… not panic over nothing. So, I- I saw the chance and I..." He gestures weakly, hand falling back to the table with a soft thump.

"Liquid courage."

He takes a sip of his coffee and slumps forward, holding his chin with one hand.

"You... got drunk on purpose?"

"Not originally, but, uh."

You nod slowly. Your stomach grumbles, and you realize you haven't actually eaten any of your soup. You take a reluctant spoonful, chewing slowly as you take everything in.

"When you froze up, it- I realized how little I had thought it through. I- it wasn't fair to you. You didn't do anything to- I never should have put you in that position in the first place."

"I... would have appreciated a warning, yeah."

"Sorry." He runs his hand through his hair and leaves it against the back of his neck. "I'm really sorry."

"Apology accepted." Reigen relaxes into his chair. As he stretches his legs out, one of his feet bumps against your ankle, and you laugh softly. "I'm still sorry, too. I should have asked more questions. And I didn't... I think I noticed something was wrong but I didn’t realize it was that frustrating for you. Before, I mean. I never wanted to make you feel like you had to do something like that."

"It's exclusively a me problem, I promise. I thought something would have worked by now. I don't... I don't really know what’s getting in the way." He shakes his head, breathing out sharply through his nose.

“I mean, literally speaking, your hands.” You laugh and take another sip of your coffee. He tilts his head. “Because, you know, y-you always grab my hand before I-?” He stares, unblinking. “Sorry, too soon to joke, probably,” you mutter into your cup, taking another sip just to have something to do.

When he moves again, it’s with a jerky start, sitting up and leaning forward. “My hands.”

“Yeah, I-”

“No, my hands.” He throws his elbows onto the table. The bowls clatter and his coffee sloshes; his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. His wrists come together in front of you, palms up and fingers curled loosely, as he stares, silent, waiting for a glimpse of recognition to cross your face. It takes a moment, but when he finds it, he grins. “My hands.”

“If you want to stop-”

“Saying so has always been enough.”

You stand, leaning to match his eye level. You consider him, searching for hesitation, but you find none.

You take his hand, and you start pulling.

+

“This is… mine?” An old black tie lays across Reigen’s palms, the ends hanging loosely over his thighs.

“Yeah, you left it here. A while ago, I guess.” You shrug. “You never really liked it, though, plus you’re here all the time anyway, so I didn’t get around to giving it back, and it’s just been here ever since.”

As you slide the drawer closed, he catches a glimpse of an old t-shirt he left on his first night in your place, folded neatly in the back corner, under a small collection of his dress socks. 

There are signs of him everywhere, really, if he looks. His toothbrush in your bathroom, a blanket he bought you for your birthday draped over the back of the couch, his favorite sweater of yours hanging on the handle of the closet, never out of service long enough to make it in with the rest of your clothes.

He’s struck with the realization it’s not just in your things, your home, but in you, the way you gesture with an extra dramatic flourish that wasn’t there before, the unwavering, tight smile that settles on your face when you talk to clients, the softness in your voice when you welcome the kids into the office, quietly clearing a table for them to do homework on, the flashes of movement in the kitchen as you dash back and forth whenever you make recipes he taught you - favorites from when things were harder and uncertain and cooking was his escape, before even the hardest parts of his life were laced with joy.

He’s wearing off on you.

He’s known it for a while, but he’s never put it all together like this, never seen it all so neatly represented in a single black tie, satin and unassuming and full of possibility. You kick your abandoned shoe out of the way, pushing the door shut with a soft click that startles him just enough to draw his attention.

“Still okay?”

He wonders how you’ve worn off on him, which parts of him weren’t there before that he doesn’t notice, can’t notice.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I’m ready.”

He smooths his thumb over the fabric, watching it wrinkle and crease where he applies pressure. It slides across his palms, dragging slowly as you wrap one end around your hand, until he’s left with empty air, hands outstretched between you.

He feels light.

You take his hands in yours, turning them in toward each other, and start to lay the tie across his wrists.

“Oh, wait!” You pull back right away, and he holds up one finger. “Not- we should take my shirt off first.”

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” You laugh and settle back onto your knees. “Yes, okay, let’s- yeah.”

Reigen stops halfway up. The fabric stays bunched when he lets go, and he pulls your hands to the exposed patch of skin. He can feel the tie, still wrapped around your palm, pressing against his side, cold and smooth, and he swallows thickly. As you drag your hands up, it slides up with you, and a shiver wracks through him when you finally pull the shirt off his arms.

He cups your face, pulling you into a kiss, fingers coming to press at the back of your neck to keep you against him as he topples backward. You catch yourself on one hand, the end of the tie flipping to rest over his shoulder as you climb to straddle him. He’s insistent, both hands tangling in your hair, little sighs and puffs of breath against your mouth as he refuses to pull away for air.

You press a kiss to his cheek to soothe the loss when you lean back. He drapes his arms over your shoulders, locking his fingers together behind your head.

“We could stay like this? My hands are… close-ish together.”

“I can’t see behind me to tie it, but,” you pull his hands around your head, “I’m sure we can figure it out after that.”

He nods. You turn his hands back toward each other and his fingers curl, knuckles pressing together as he relaxes. You drape the tie around his wrists, trying a few different ways of looping it but not finding anything you’re satisfied with.

“Sorry. I just wanna make sure you can get out if you need.”

“It’s alright. I like the attention.”

You freeze, a wobbly grin taking shape as your face heats up.

“‘Taka, I’m supposed to be the composed one!”

“I’m just trying to be honest!” He flexes his wrists, pressing his knuckles together to crack them.

“Don’t worry,” you press both ends of the tie between his hands and motion for him to hold them still, “I like giving you attention.” You fold the middle of the tie over to make two loops and start twisting them in on themselves. “And I wanna hear about it as much as you can bear.”

“You seem plenty composed to me.” He pinches his thumb between two fingers and squeezes.

“Quick recovery. I learned from the best.” You wink and put your fingers through the loops. “Here, hands in here.”

He flattens his hands to squeeze them through, stopping to let you shimmy the tie the rest of the way over. You hold the ends of the tie and give a quick tug before tying them together.

“There, it’ll have to do.” You slip a finger in each loop, making sure there’s enough room to be comfortable without him being able to slip out without meaning to. “It’s a little loose, so don’t pull too hard, okay?”

“Sure.” He folds his elbows down, letting his hands come to rest on his chest. He jerks one hand up toward his hair, pulling his other hand with it, and the tie snaps taut. He has the courtesy to look sheepish. “I’ll try.”

You roll your eyes, smile still wide.

“Hands above your head, please.”

“Hm?”

“I’d like to get at your neck.” You press up on his elbows, and he unfolds his arms. “Those were in the way.”

“O-oh. Right.”

You lean down, tilting his chin up with one hand, and press a kiss to his throat, savoring the way it moves as he swallows. You trail down until you reach his stomach, dragging your tongue along his skin on the way back up. He exhales sharply, breath moving your hair as you get closer to his face. He forces out a laugh, and he rolls one shoulder.

You glance up. The tie is already starting to come loose, untwisting in the middle, but his hands are clasped together, the tie held in place between his wrists, fingers over the ends.

You kiss him, quick and breathless, and slip your fingers under his waistband. When his breath hitches, you smooth your thumb along the bone there, a reassurance you won’t move yet. You can feel him tense under you, pressing up into your touch, then slowly settling back onto the mattress.

You’re both reluctant to acknowledge the fact that you have to get off of him to take his pants off. You do your best to shimmy them under you, and he lifts his hips to help, but you need both hands to make sure his boxers stay on for now, and you want to make sure he can move his legs, so eventually, begrudgingly, you climb off him.

He takes the opportunity to stretch, his back arching off the bed as you throw his pants off somewhere to worry about later.

“Ooh, pretty. Think you can do that for me again?” You press a thumb to the inside of his thigh, at the edge of where his boxer leg has ridden up, and he jumps, hips rolling against your touch.

“Trickery.” He squirms, a whine that refuses to come out shining through in his voice. “Not fair.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty more chances.” You trail your fingers up his thigh, along the “v” of the bone, up his stomach. He shivers when you trail back down, your fingers catching on the waistband of his boxers to drag it over his skin before letting go, settling your hand lightly over the bulge in the fabric. It’s slightly damp against your skin, and Reigen chokes back a moan when you press down. 

You pull, grinding your palm down on his cock as the waistband moves until you can see the base of it, then you slide back up, tracing the outline of him with your fingers. When he whimpers, you’re too slow to hide your grin, and he glares halfheartedly.

“Having fun down there?”

“Oh, lots, thanks.” You slip your thumb below the elastic. “Seems like you are, too.”

“Hm.”

“Sorry, what was that?” You lift your hand with mock alarm, and he scrambles to reach for you, slowly lowering his arms to his chest when he sees your smile.

“Yes.”

“So, just to make sure, you are having fun?” It’s just as sarcastic as it is serious, and he seems to take it in equal measures, because he scoffs at the same time he nods. Both hands are on his hips now, both thumbs in his waistband, and you pull up gently to get him to lift his hips.

“Good boy.”

You’re not sure you would have felt it if you weren’t holding him, but he definitely shudders, trembling where your fingers press into his skin.

“Arataka.”

“Hmm?” He sounds breathless, and his chest heaves with effort, the rest of him as still as he can keep it.

“Should I keep calling you a good boy?”

“Um. If you want.” He jerks his hips up, and you take the hint to slide his boxers off, keeping an eye on his face as you do. You climb between his legs and lean over him, wrapping your hand slowly around his cock, firmly but gently, your thumb over the tip.

He squeaks, and he tenses, but he doesn’t reach for your hands.

“You’re doing so well, ‘Taka.” He swallows, and he shifts his hands, twisting the tie so he can lay his arms closer to his hair. “Such a good boy for me.” Precum oozes out of his slit, and you feel it roll down your hand.

“Mhm.” You lean back on your heels. “How about this? You tell me what feels good, and every time you do,” you pull your thumb down, spreading the precum along his length, “I’ll let you know just how much I appreciate it. Sound good?”

He nods, and you stop moving.

“Can I hear you say it?”

“Yes,” he breathes, pressing his wrists together, “yes, sounds good.”

“Good job.” When you lean to kiss him, grip tightening to keep his dick down against his stomach, his knuckles brush over your hair. “So perfect.”

You start slow, focusing more on touching every inch of him then keeping any sort of rhythm. When you trail up the vein on the underside, he shivers, and he gasps when you squeeze the base, and his hips jerk up when you pass over his slit, one leg coming up to press his ankle against your side. It’s not until you slip your other hand around him, though, arm passing through the space created by the bend of his knee to settle on his outer thigh, that he says anything.

“Fuck, that, more of that. P-please.”

“This hand?” You press your fingers into his thigh. He presses back.

“Yeah. I need… just, hold onto me.”

“Okay. Yeah, of course, sweetheart.” You scoot closer to wrap your hand tighter around his leg, spreading your legs to slip your knee underneath him. Once he relaxes, the full weight of his leg on yours, you press a kiss to his knee. “Good boy.”

“Shit,” he laughs, squirming closer to you. “S’not close enough.”

“Let me try something, then.” You slide backwards, reluctantly letting his leg fall to the bed, and you shimmy onto your stomach. When you pull his leg over your shoulder, he immediately hooks his ankle into your back and lets out a breathy moan. The pressure makes it a little harder to reach back around his thigh, but he relaxes into it easier, and the view is incredible. “There you go, perfect.”

You start up a little faster this time, twisting your wrist as you move up and down, and he bucks up into your hand. You risk a kiss to his thigh and his hands fly to your hair, the ends of the tie flowing down against your cheek.

“Sorry, too much?”

“Not enough.” His voice is scratchy now, and he gives a little tug once he gets a hold of you. “Can you, don’t put it- but, closer?”

“You want me here instead?” You press a kiss to the underside of his cock, flipping the loose ends of the tie out of the way to lay across his hip.

“Y-yes. Yes, fuck.”

“Gladly.” Between words, you pepper kisses along his shaft, following the trail of your hand up and down. “Thank you for letting me do this for you. You look so beautiful like this, feeling so good.”

He starts to make a noise of protest, but it quickly shifts into a stifled groan when you press a kiss to his tip, just barely letting your tongue drag across his slit as you pull away.

He whines and bucks his hips to follow you, and you can’t help but let an incredulous laugh slip out. “Alright, love, I’m gonna give you a choice, okay?”

He swallows thickly, then nods.

“Option one, you can tell me exactly how you want me to make you come. If you want my hand or my mouth or to go faster or slower or anything at all you just have to say the word. But I won’t do anything you don’t tell me, so you’ll have to say exactly what you want.”

His breathing is ragged, and he twitches in your grasp. “And option two?”

You grin and lean over him, propping yourself up on one hand. “I do whatever makes you the loudest, and if you stop making those pretty noises for me, I stop.” He seems to flinch at that, and you brush his hair back. “Just for a little while.”

He takes a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed, and he pulls his arms in and down to drape one across his forehead. The tie was never really secure in the first place, but after quite a bit of pulling and flailing, it’s fully undone by now, nothing but luck and stubborn determination holding the loops in place around Reigen’s wrists.

“Both options, of course, come with all sorts of praise and admiration.” You slip a finger under the fabric and give a light tug. He lifts his hands to let the tie slide free.

When he opens his eyes, a shudder running down his spine, he sees you absent-mindedly tying the tie around your neck, uneven and loose, hanging down between you to brush against his stomach. He’s sure you just needed somewhere to put it, something to do with your hands, but it flips a strangely possessive switch somewhere inside him. Not because he’s seeing you in his clothes - he’s had the privilege of that many times before - but because you’ve taken the thing that was supposed to restrain his ability to fuck up the situation, taken something he left safe for you to keep track of without even realizing he’d done it, taken the symbol of his presence in your space and your time and your life, and you’ve put it on without a second thought. He thinks of his misguided reasoning that got you into this situation, that he trusts you with him more than he trusts himself, and he knows what he wants.

For once, words are failing him, which just makes the choice even easier.

“Second one.”

Your eyebrows raise a little, like you’re surprised at his answer, and he almost takes it all back, but then you’re grinning and leaning down to cup his jaw, kissing him like he’s giving you the only air you could ever breathe, and he moans into your mouth.

You lean away just enough to pull in a gasp of air, fingers sliding to tangle into the base of his hair.

“Just like that, gorgeous.”

He laughs, sucking in a shaky breath as you wrap your hand around him again. It pinches into a sort of strained whimper as he starts to quiet himself and thinks better of it, and you start moving.

“That’s it, good boy, just let me take care of everything.”

For all he got into his head before, breaking the seal of touching him seems to have removed any last bits of hesitation, because he relaxes into your touch almost immediately. Your experimenting earlier left you with a good idea of what will get the best noises out of him, and he doesn’t hold back. You’re silently thankful, not only because you get to hear him, but also because you’re not sure you could have followed through on your threat of stopping. And if he’s exaggerating for your sake, all clipped moans and raspy mumbling and bucking hips, well, you’re not going to complain.

After a particularly tight stroke up his cock and a brush of teeth up the inside of his thigh, he pulls one arm over his mouth, pushing it against his lips with his other hand. You’re still deciding if that counts as muffling his sounds enough to slow down when he bites his wrist and yelps, a loud, desperate, frantic noise that seizes what little of your attention isn’t already on him. His head tips back as he struggles to prop himself up on one elbow, hand flipping to clamp down over his mouth, and you can see the bite mark, lines pressed into the pale skin just below the jut of bone where palm meets wrist. It takes you a minute to realize he’s saying something, your brain struggling to piece his noises together into words.

“Can I have your hand?” You hum, scrambling to extract your hand from his leg. “I just- I need,” he opens and closes his hands, “something.” When you hold your hand up blindly toward him, he takes it quickly and holds on tight, fingers lacing together with yours. He gives a few tugs, and you hurry to sit up.

“Please, I need- I can’t take it anymore.” He looks frantic, eyebrows pinched together and his chest heaving with ragged, shaky breaths. His hips buck wildly, quick and shallow into your curled fingers. You realize you’ve forgotten to keep moving as you were watching him, and you quickly correct your mistake, reveling in the shiver that racks through him as your thumb swipes over his tip.

He’s begging now, your name falling out in pieces between gasps and cries; he’s still tugging at your hand like you can’t get close enough, pressing his lips to your jaw like he can’t quite remember how to leave kisses there. He pitches his hips up and presses against you, knees coming together to press into your sides, pinning your hand against your torso as he lets out a final shuddering whimper.

He comes across your fingers, his whole body tense as he holds himself up, back arched and head rolled to the side. He moves to wrap his arms around you, forgetting that his elbow is supporting him, and he pulls you down with him as he falls the short distance to the mattress.

You do your best to roll off him without letting go of him during the aftershocks, but you’re not exactly paying attention to where you’re still holding, and he yelps again from the overstimulation. You yank your hand away with half an apology, smoothing your hand up his side as you lift yourself up on your other arm.

“Nono, wait, don’t-” He scrambles to grab you wherever he can, and you intercept him before he can smack you across the face.

“It’s okay, ‘Taka, s’okay. I’m not going anywhere. I just didn’t wanna crush you. Let’s sit up so you can get some water, alright? All that noise can really make your throat sore, I know.” You slip your hands under him, one at the small of his back and one between his shoulders, gently lifting him toward the headboard. “That’s it. You’re okay. I gotcha.”

Once he’s upright, a glass of water in two shaky hands, you lean over the side of the bed to fumble for a washcloth. When he doesn’t slow down on his own, you start to reach for the glass, but he pulls away for a big gulp of air before you can.

“How you feelin’?”

He doesn’t answer right away, leaving you to fidget with the cloth, slowly reaching for his thigh. He lets his eyes slide closed as you start to wipe him off, smoothing an apologetic thumb over his hip when he hisses from the sensitivity. You wipe your hand on a mostly clean corner before you chuck it in the general direction of the hamper, silently relieved when it makes it in.

“I think I died.” His hands are still shaking as he goes to set the glass on your nightstand, and you gingerly take it from him, lifting yourself up to set it on the far corner where neither of you can accidentally knock it off later. “I understand you now.”

“You didn’t die, I promise.” You allow yourself a smirk and pull a blanket up from the end of the bed. “That’s high praise, though.”

“You’re high praise.”

“You’re the one that liked it so much.”

He rolls his eyes, too tired to argue. As you pull yourself up the bed to sit beside him, he leans over, one hand sliding behind you to rest on your hip. Now that he doesn’t have the distraction of everything else, you can tell he’s starting to think, because his ears are tinting pink and he’s fidgeting with a string on the edge of the blanket.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy to oblige.”

You scoop his hand into yours, leaving the blanket’s seams to live another day, and examine the bite mark on his wrist.

“I can’t believe I did that.” He scoffs, shaking his head a little as you turn his arm over. “The hell was I thinking?”

“Obviously you weren’t, which is both the point and very hot, so hush.” He turns away stubbornly, but he looks pleased. “You could probably say a spirit did it. Biting seems like an evil ghost thing to do, right?”

“With clearly human teeth?”

“Maybe it… stole them?”

He laughs, pulling away from your grip to get comfortable against your side. Just as you start to drift off, soothed by the sound of his breathing slowing and his weight settling on you as he relaxes, you feel his fingers walking down your hip, making their way to your thigh. You crack one eye open, and he looks away with obviously fake innocence.

“Where you going with that hand, darling?”

He smiles, bright and daring, as his fingers dig in. “Your turn?”

You consider it. You’re not quite capable of fully ignoring how turned on seeing him like this has made you. There’s a bit of nervous energy, buzzing over what’s left of your hangover, excitement, the joy that bubbles up in your chest at seeing him smiling at you like that, everything coming together in an overwhelming, swirling feeling of wanting whatever he will give you. But there’s something else, a calm undercurrent to it all, coating the emotion in quiet and directing it all back to a single point, solid and unwavering and right .

More than anything, you are content.

He sees your expression and laughs, must know what you’re going to say the moment you decide, because he mouths the words along with you as he pulls his hand back up to your hip.

“Maybe next time.”

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

Jon I, AGOT

It's interesting that GRRM would dedicate several paragraphs to a seemingly unimportant exchange between a boy, his wolf, and an unfriendly third party. But there's just something about this passage that has continued to nag at me for years since I first read it because, considering how heavy handed GRRM was with the foreshadowing in AGOT, this feels important.

Jon is sitting at table full of squires - aka would be knights. We don't really know who they are or what families they belong to, but it's safe to assume that they come from a certain level of privilege; this is considering the fact that it cannot be financially easy to be a squire. And these boys already have a slew of tales detailing all their previous knightly exploits regarding "battle and bedding and the hunt" which suggests that they have some capital. So you have boys who will soon be men. And they will, presumably, become men of some power.

These lads eat their fill of the chicken until only half remains, which Jon then gives to Ghost. The direwolf's name is not so important here but what he represents is. Throughout the series, we're told that Ghost is reminiscent of the weirwood trees (because of his red eyes and white fur). He's stated to be of and from the Old Gods and since he's a personification of the weirwoods, he might as well be one of them. It's almost as if Jon is presenting whatever is left on the table to the Old Gods (Ghost). He lets them devour his offerings while he silently watches. And the motif of watching is so interesting here because it's kind of like Jon takes on a stewardship role - to watch over land/people/etc. He oversees Ghost eating the chicken, so he's overseeing whatever has been given to the Old Gods. This is not new imagery to his arc. As a brother of the Night's Watch and eventually its leader, we have several instances where he leads people to adopting the Old Gods in some fashion. In ADWD, several recruits swear their vows to the Old Gods while he watches on as their Lord Commander. The Old Gods are also primarily of the North and we're told that Jon has more of the north in him than his brothers; interesting that this also includes Bran. So perhaps whatever is being offered to the Old Gods relates to the North.

We must also note that Jon initially thinks to give only a small portion, a leg, before pivoting and providing the entire thing. It feels to me a bit like the process of carving up a kingdom or something similar. The lords (represented by the squires) take what they want and leave aside what they don't; or perhaps they have eaten to their fill and can take no more. Then when his time comes, Jon first considers a small piece of land/group of people before eventually absorbing all of whatever is left behind. The concept of carving up a kingdom rings harder considering that we have several callbacks to the ideals of kingship in this chapter. Robert, Jaime, Tyrion, and even Mance though we don't know it yet, all play into this. And then there's the aspect of Jon letting the chicken slip between his legs which evokes birth/fatherhood, a very curious choice when GRRM could've just had Jon place the chicken on the floor. So land/people are carved up and Jon then uses whatever is left to birth his own type of kingdom. And this kingdom is one for the Old Gods.

This also touches on something that has been quite prevalent throughout Jon's arc. It's the concept of accepting the "others" or "those left over" who live apart from the accepted social norms. Arya (a tomboy), Sam (a gender non-confirming boy), the Night's Watch (criminals, extra sons, and men who have no future left or place to go), and even the wildlings are all examples of this. And Jon takes on a leadership/paternal role to every single one of them. He looks after them as a leader would/should. Sometimes, in the case of Arya and the wildlings, he's equated to a king. He's a steward/shepherd/king. There's messianic undertones to this:

Come unto me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30).

If you're familiar with Judeo-Christian tradition, you'll know that Jesus is often personified as one who spent the majority his time among the outcasts. The idea is that he came to save them too and that anew kingdom (or new earth depending on your translation) would spring up after the end of the world where he would forever rule as king; which presents the idea of a final king after the earthly ones are done away with. Now GRRM isn't so heavy handed with Christian allusions as other authors out there, but he does have a Catholic background and Jon is so overtly a Jesus figure. And in Revelation, Jesus is king and god at the very end....

One last thing: the mention of the mongrel who challenges Jon has always been rather interesting but confusing to me. A mongrel doesn't really relate to one specific type of dog. But it's interesting that Jon notes several roaming about where he is. They follow the serving girls who carry the food to be offered. Mongrels are used to describe antagonist/villainous groups in ASOIAF. Sometimes, they're used to describe slavers in Essos. But what's interesting is that most of the time, they're used to describe Euron's Ironborn especially in Victorian's POV. So I don't think the mongrel who challenges Ghost is a supernatural threat of death (i.e., the Others) but rather a human one. They represent those who are called to the scene once the lords have finished playing their games. It almost feels like a feast for (carrion) crows....

But it doesn't really matter because this mongrel isn't much of a challenge for Ghost. Though the mongrel is much larger, the direwolf is able to fend her off very effortlessly. Given that "mongrel" is used to describe Ironborn raiders, could this exchange between Ghost and the mongrel point to reavers or sea raiders who rise and fail challenge Jon kingdom? There is a historical King Jon Stark who did this....

When sea raiders landed in the east, Jon drove them out and built a castle, the Wolf's Den, at the mouth of the White Knife, so as to be able to defend the mouth of the river.[1][2] His son, Rickard, followed him on the throne and annexed the Neck to the north.

ref.

So this might shed some light not only on Jon's already published arc, but also on what we can expect in the future. We have some foreshadowing through Jon's ADWD dream that he will not only rise with the dawn (thereby live through the Long Night), but will be in a position to lead people (wildings in that chapter) to a new peace after a hard fought war. Also remember that the wildlings, rather enthusiastically, swear oaths to him as if swearing oaths to their king. In this instance, the supernatural (a dream of the war for the dawn) is followed by the natural/human. So perhaps this particular passage (and Jon's dream) can be used to predict that Jon comes out on top, and quite effortlessly too, as a leader. And he becomes a leader who rules by association with the Old Gods; or rules a kingdom for them.

To end, I think it's of note that this passage immediately precedes Jon's conversation with Benjen where he voices his desire to go out on his own - the hero's call to action. This is the adventure that's going to kickstart his growth as a man, warrior and most importantly, a leader. So it looks like before we even began, GRRM telegraphed how it would all end in just three short paragraphs.