#very theatrical 11/10

[huyaoxiaozi]

       As Zane entered the room and met their captive's gaze, he was intrigued by the look that passed over the man's face. Skepticism, unease ... perhaps even fear, but maybe that was being too liberal with the term. If Yuki was truly, deeply afraid, he was doing an excellent job of hiding it. However, something was off, he could sense it — he didn't know what, but it was palpable, heavy in the air. Zane intended to find out exactly what it was.

       He was here to question him, to see what he could find out about Isen's plans, to see if Yuki was indeed useful leverage against him or not. Personally, Zane thought that Yuki could be useful in another, more long term way, if he could be persuaded to turn his back on Isen. They were rumored to be close, like father and son, but ... sometimes, loyalty only went so far when you were the one suffering for someone else's choices.

       As the door closed behind him, Zane cleared his throat audibly. He allowed his carefully crafted mask to slide into place with practiced ease.

       ❝Sorry,❞ Zane went on to say as he approached, not sounding the least bit sorry at all. ❝It's bad luck to be hospitable to those who betray you.❞ He paused, gaze briefly drifting off to his lower right, left eye squinting as he pretended to ponder his own words. ❝Arguably, I guess that could just be considered common sense.❞ he offered a dismissive half shrug, his demeanor casual, as if they were lightly bantering in a bar over drinks, perhaps.

       As Zane got closer, however, his body language subtly shifted as he circled Yuki, slow and deliberate. An odd mix of intrigue and danger ... and perhaps the facade of extending comradery, if Yuki played his cards right. A fox offering a flash of razor sharp teeth, circling potential cornered prey. ❝I suppose it wasn't you specifically who betrayed us. Isen did, but ... given your close ties to him, that makes you privy to his schemes. Just as much fair game as he is. Unless, of course, you care to disagree? ❞

       Despite the serrated burn of it, there was a honeyed allure to his voice as he spoke. He cast a curious glance over his shoulder to Yuki as he strode past his captive's right side, dark brows lifting with questioning emphasis. ❝From where I'm standing, it seems like he's the one who made a fucking mess and left you to deal with the consequences. Not an ideal arrangement, even if you do think of him as some kind of father figure — so ...❞

       Zane reached one of the chairs in the room by then and he smoothly picked it up one handed. After returning to stand in front of Yuki, he set the chair down backwards and settled down onto it, crossing his arms and resting them on the back of it, leaning forward expectantly. ❝I for one think that gives us something to discuss, don't you? ❞

@huyaoxiaozi

"Yuki?"

At the sound of his name, Yuki turned. An older man stood a block away, a man that seemed...vaguely familiar. His name was on the tip of Yuki's tongue, but he mentally flinched away from the sharp spike of pain in his temple. Like barbed wire on a fence, protecting whatever was inside...or protecting whatever was out.

"My god...you're alive," the man continued, taking a few steps closer. However, when Yuki drew back like a stray animal to an outstretched hand, the man stopped. He looked Yuki over with sad eyes that made Yuki grind his teeth.

"Who are you?" Yuki demanded.

"What happened to you?" the man countered, shaking his head slowly. "You look just like your father."

This stopped Yuki short. Like his father? Isen? No...someone else, someone whose face was blurry, distorted. Yuki's hands clenched at his sides.

"I don't know you," he said coldly.

"What did he do to you, son?"

Yuki's heart thumped loudly against his chest and he took another step back. The longer he looked at the man, the more something prodded at his mind, something that plagued his dreams often. Headlights, tires screeching, screams. Yuki shut his eyes hard.

"Come with me," the man begged. "There's something you should see."

Curse his curiosity, but Yuki had to know. And what he found changed everything.

He'd stumbled out of the police station, gasping for air, and when the detective put his hand on his shoulder, he broke out into a run. He ran until he couldn't anymore, finally stopping in an alley with his hand on the brick. And when he pressed his forehead to it, he realized he wasn't alone.

Maybe if he'd been on his game, he would've escaped. He would've killed them all. Still, though Yuki did damage to the men, he was knocked unconscious. And the next thing he knew, his arms were bound to a pole pressing against his back, his ankles tied together with rope. Not a soul was in the room.

He wasn't sure how much time passed. His mouth and throat ached with thirst. Pangs of hunger stabbed into his stomach for awhile, until they turned into clenching pain, nausea. It didn't matter. Most of the time, Yuki wasn't in his body. He was floating on the ceiling, watching a car crash over and over, seeing dark eyes he knew so well, being ushered to a black car. He remembered a warehouse much like this one, damp and dark, where his father -- where Isen had pushed him to his limits until he was a sobbing heap on the ground. Until his memories disappeared, until he became the perfect, obedient weapon. Until he was broken.

The door creaked open and a taller Chinese man entered. Yuki gave him a skeptical look and resisted the urge to back away as much as he could. For the first time, Yuki spoke, his voice rough as sandpaper.

"Your hospitality is terrible."

[trashogram]

He Chose You (P. 5)

Lucifer/Reader — Lucifer wants you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for the smut. FINALLY

(Hope none of y’all were planning to actually get off though).

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“You want a… baby?” 

Lucifer looked as stunned as you felt. He reminded you of a spooked deer — frozen and wide-eyed as he waited for imminent death. Or more aptly a dying fish as his mouth opened and closed soundlessly. 

“… To hang out with?”

Lucifer found himself in your apartment for the second time, milling about beside your coffee table. He internally scolded himself for fidgeting and shifting from one foot to the other, but it was either that or burn a hole in your head with his hopeful gaze.

“No!” He let out a pathetic laugh. “Well, yes, b-but obviously not just that! I know there’s more to it than just ‘hanging out’.”  

“I'm not stupid.” He chortled again before glancing at you. “… I’m not that stupid.” 

The King had the uneasy feeling that you might see right through him now; find that inkling of excitement still germinating in his breast, and change your mind. Or worse, you’d withdraw even more and he’d have to feel that dreadful, terrible, no good shame. 

He had practically skipped through the halls of his castle (unbeknownst to you) with the contract held tightly between his claws.  But as soon as he entered your fireplace, the excitement had curdled like milk. It was replaced by that shame when he looked at you and saw your ashen face. 

“Obviously you wouldn’t be doing this for free!” Lucifer gesticulated wildly. “You, you said you wanted to travel right? Right! If you agree, you’d get to travel wherever you want, whenever you want, no strings attached!”

“A-and also! No more costs, period! All your bills and expenses paid forever, in perpetuity, beyond the grave! Capitalism is a bitch? No, capitalism WAS a bitch!”

“No, no! Capitalism will be YOUR BITCH!” 

Your resigned countenance combined with the memory of his pitch made Lucifer flinch. 

——

You were never very good in a crisis. Or under a severe amount of pressure… or a moderate amount, in all sincerity. 

But you’d have thought, even with the prospect of homelessness looming over your head, that you’d have drawn the line at making a Deal with the Devil to avoid it. 

Or at least you would’ve taken more than the time it took to draw up a legal contract to accept your fate.

That time maxed out to 6 days. 

The scroll unfurled before you. It radiated an ethereal golden light, and lined with a litany of official statements occasionally broken up by blank spaces meant for a (second) signature. 

         Lucifer Morningstar was signed here and there, in the same glittery calligraphy as was on his business card.

‘This contract must be interpreted by the Governances of Heaven [Heofon, Himmel, Kem, ἄκμων, آسمان, अश्मन्] and any litigations associated with Hell [Hel, Hallju, Kel]…’

‘… By this contract, Party A agrees to carry the Seed of Party B, hereafter known as “Father”, to the extent of natural gestation as governed by the Law of Nature…’ 

‘… This union shall be recognized only within the parameters listed and not heretofore or after…’

The legal jargon was giving you a headache. You scrubbed a hand down your face, determined to at least read through it all and, if you couldn’t pick out tiny discrepancies, at least find any giant red flags. 

(Even if you’d already reserved the excuse that it was easy to be tricked by the Devil when the Devil was insanely good at presenting himself as a theatrical little man who wore his heart on his suit sleeve).

           Then again, would it not just be easier to sign away your life without regard to the consequences?

Lucifer twitched when you groaned on your seat at the table. “Problem?” 

You rose slowly from your hunched position to make eye contact. “… My pen isn’t working.” 

You demonstrated by scribbling randomly on the sticky notepad beside his scroll. Lucifer responded instantly, left hand flexing in the air and, with a flashy poof, snatching a fancy pen out of thin air. 

“You can keep it” He said, grinning as you accepted it with a sour look. 

“Thanks… show-off.” You began scribbling your name in half-assed cursive on every blank line in sight.

The grin on Lucifer’s face became borderline manic as soon as you’d crossed your ‘t’s and dotted your ‘i’s. His teeth glinted in the light from your cheap-ass lamp and it made you wince as you handed the rolled up document back to him. 

“Um, can we maybe skip the kissing stuff?” You asked. “I don’t really want to cut my tongue open.” 

His wounded expression tugged rather annoyingly at your heart. 

“Sorry.” 

The smile he gave your mumbled apology was strained at best. “No, no I understand. The fangs were daunting to me when I first got them, too.” 

You cocked your head, thoughts materializing like the web of a spider. 

“That’s actually something we should talk about.” You voiced your thoughts. “Are we compatible? Down there?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean — you don’t have teeth down there, too… right?” You asked. “Or some kind of eldritch horror miasma that I can’t touch lest I fall into a coma from ecstasy? Or a tentacle?” 

“No!” Lucifer looked mortified. “Wh-what is wrong with you humans?!” 

“I’m sorry! I’m just asking!” You cried. 

You continued when his expression stayed stagnant. “Look, I’m sorry if I offended you but I’m about to become intimately acquainted with… it, and I think I should be prepared!”

Your hellish companion stood, eyes closed, hands folded over his mouth as if in prayer. He breathed in slowly, then out. 

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry it’s… it’s been a while since I’ve been with a human.” He reasoned. “It’s good to ask questions. It’s—that’s a good one. Do you have any more?” 

That made you pause. There were millions of things you could ask the King of Hell and yet not one thing could properly formulate in your brain. 

“Um, I need a second to think about it.” You muttered. “What about you? My setup is pretty basic? I guess? I have a womb. At least I did, at my last physical a year and a half ago.” 

Lucifer’s lips twitched upward in a half-smile and there was an answering flutter from your stomach. “I know.”

Your eyebrows shot up and he immediately started babbling. “I mean! I know because the contract went through! The ink would’ve turned red… or disappeared… To be honest, I don't know. I haven’t made a deal in a long time, ha ha. But I remember something happens when there’s a technical issue!” 

“Ah,” You felt better with that explanation. 

Kind of. 

“I thought of a question, actually. Sorry.” You shrugged sheepishly. “It’s probably in the contract but…”

You swallowed down your trepidation. “… I won’t die, right?”

Suddenly unable to look him in the eye, you faced the floor and missed the way Lucifer’s face fell. 

“Barring the normal risks that come with being pregnant, nothing else is gonna happen, right? Or if it does, it won’t be agonizing?” You asked quietly. 

A moment of silence passed before the ex-Angel’s fingers curled under your chin. Your head rose and you saw Lucifer's eyes soften from something sharper and more determined. 

“I will do everything in my power to protect you and the baby.” He said firmly. “Nothing terrible will happen to either of you. I swear.” 

It was strange, the effect his words had on you. The jittery feeling in your chest slowly disappeared, and the tears forming in your eyes didn’t fall. 

“Okay.” You nodded with a barely there, watery smile. 

——

“I’m gonna turn off the lights, ok?” You said over your shoulder. 

Lucifer was undoing the last of the buttons of his dress shirt, vest and overcoat already laid neatly over your desk. He met your gaze, eyes bright. 

“Of course.” His close-lipped smile struck you, but you flipped the light switch before you could think on it. 

A lack of light did very little to suppress Lucifer. He seemed to glow like the star of his namesake, flourishing in the dark and hard to miss. You simply hoped, as you pulled at your sleeves, his shine wouldn’t illuminate the terrain of your body. 

Cold air hit your skin, goosebumps rose along your bare arms and shoulders, but you persisted. When everything was shucked save for your underwear, you moved to your bed and realized Lucifer was still standing at the baseboard. 

With arms crossed, you assumed the same position at the side of the bed. “Um?”

“Ladies first!” He chimed, as if reading your mind. 

You sighed, then slowly climbed onto the mattress and awkwardly pulled the comforter from under your butt. You settled and patted a spot in front of you. 

Hesitantly, Lucifer accepted the invitation, and he was sitting next to you before you could blink. 

No going back now. 

You shifted in your spot uneasily. Fuck, it had been a long time since you had sex. 

How did you start this shit again? 

No kissing — per your own request. You had half a mind to take it back while you sat there floundering, trying not to let the tangible awkwardness break your resolve entirely. 

You could do this. For a lifetime of no work, no bills, no cares. 

You could do this.

A bit of movement in the dark caught your eye. You glanced down and realized that Lucifer was twiddling his thumbs waiting for you. 

The laugh came bubbling from your throat before you could stop it. Reaching out, you grabbed one of his hands and tugged him forward.

You could see his throat constrict as he swallowed and smiled questioningly. “What?”

Lucifer yelped when you laid back, taking him with you. 

——

“Ah! F-fu — Slow down!” You scolded, words muffled as you were repeatedly pushed down into the pillows. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you just,” Every word was punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips against the flesh of your ass. “Feel. So. Fucking. Good.” 

Lucifer moaned loudly as he continued to lose himself in the sensation. You could only groan, irritation building as your partner refused to give you even the most basic attention. The frustration peaked quickly, then unraveled as his pleasured moans and squeaks caused your stomach to somersault over and over again. 

You clenched around his cock when he whined, thrusting into you so deeply you felt the base of him stretching your hole that much wider. 

Well, fuck you for finding the sound of a masculine voice cracking the hottest thing in all of creation. 

But it was actually getting you there, so what were you complaining for?

          Eyes closed, you focused on the feeling, trying to jump off that precipice with only penetration. It reminded you of when you were a teen, awkwardly feeling around down there. Of trying to find the appeal in your fingers inside of somewhere so sensitive against the fear of hurting yourself. All while you worked yourself up with your own imagination. 

In a perfect world, you would’ve moved on from that stage of life with no repeat performances. Hopefully, it could still be salvag—

You gripped the pillows that hadn’t tumbled off the juddering mattress when Lucifer’s claws dug into your hips. He pulled you as close as humanly possible with a strangled yelp, shivering, shuddering, stammering incoherence as warmth flooded your insides. 

Fuck’s sake.

——

You were disappointed, but not surprised. All you could do after the fact was bury yourself in the covers and watch Lucifer catch his breath beside you. 

Not finishing aside, exhaustion from the entire ordeal made you indolent and your thoughts hazy. You studied your partner as he calmed down, clearly trying not to be too close to you now that the deed was done. 

Lucifer’s hair was in disarray, the space between his eyes and across his cheeks rosy like the blots parallel to his smile. 

“Hey.” 

Lucifer looked at you innocently, waiting. You could physically feel your walls crumbling down despite yourself. 

“Come here.” You murmured, hand sliding beneath the covers to touch that poreless skin. 

Damn you and your soft heart. 

‘Actually…’ You had Lucifer in your arms, his body still warm. Once he was in your grasp, the King melted against you. 

He looked a little afraid as you tilted him up by the chin to look at you. The Devil had surprisingly soulful eyes, questioning whatever you had in store. 

The tiny thought that he was being way too vulnerable drew a taut, uncomfortable feeling your chest. 

“Kiss me.” 

Lucifer blinked in rapid succession — surprise, wonder, confusion and hope bloom all at once on his unusual face. 

It made you laugh in the quiet, comfortable darkness of your room before you yourself leaned in and met his lips with your own. The line of Lucifer’s mouth trembled, but he reciprocated with only minor hesitation. 

* Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1,

Please let me know I missed tagging you!

[batfamily14]

Bruce Wanye had graciously allowed you to stay at Wayne Manor for the week—and make no mistake, he wasn’t leaving anything to chance. You’re human, or at least that’s what you claim; he’s still looking into it. As you crossed the threshold and stepped into the grand hall, you quickly realized that the guest experience here came with its own set of very specific—and rather peculiar—rules. Bruce had thoughtfully prepared a list of guidelines to ensure you don’t trigger anyone in the Manor. Please use them at your discretion.

Dick Grayson

1. Do not touch him without being in his line of sight, especially on his lower back.

2. Do NOT mention tarantulas.

3. If it isn’t already obvious, don’t play out loud circus or theatrical musicals.

4. Can be emotionally sensitive to the smell of popcorn or peanuts.

5. If he’s upset, just leave him to himself. He can become more enraged if anyone tries to calm him down before he’s ready.

6. If you wanted to help calm him, you could order from a Romani restaurant downtown.

7. Avoid calling him ‘Robin’ or referring to his past role as Batman’s partner unless necessary.

8. Don’t bring up his days circus or bring up his acrobat training unless he does it first.

9. If he’s having a difficult day, don’t try to cheer him up with humor or jokes; it might only make things worse.

10. Do not assume he wants to be the center of attention at social gatherings. He prefers to keep a low profile.

11. If you compliment him, please stay away from physical compliments.

Jason Todd

1. Do not touch him AT ALL. Unless he touches you first.

2. Don’t mention his scars, obviously, or stare.

3. The rumors you’ve heard around Gotham are probably true or false, either way, don’t ask him. Especially not about any bloody duffle bags.

4. He hates 1950s to 1960s music, as you know Joker loves it. Especially when tormenting his victims.

5. If you want to insult him, calling him ‘Robin’ will do it.

6. Don’t call him ‘Jaybird.’ He only allows Dick to do this.

7. If he’s brooding, don’t try to lighten the mood with jokes or sarcasm. He will shut you down.

8. Never imply that he’s not part of the family, even in jest.

9. Avoid taking anyone's side in arguments, especially against him, he takes things more personally than Dick.

10. Don’t ask him about his past with any of Batfamily unless he brings it up.

11. If you leave the Manor let him know, he obsesses sometimes about where everyone is.

12. Don’t playful threaten him.

Tim Drake

1. Don’t make any jokes about him, even lighthearted teasing.

2. If he’s sleepy, constantly make yourself known when entering his room or any other rooms in the household.

3. If he’s not eating much, don’t mention this directly. Instead, you could pretend to eat a snack and then offer him some.

4. He doesn’t have a spleen, so don’t hug him too tightly.

5. Don’t refer to him as “just a kid” or imply he’s not as capable as the older members of the family.

6. Avoid questioning his decisions or his ability to handle situations without offering unsolicited advice.

7. If you’re trying to comfort him, avoid overly emotional gestures. A simple, low-pressure offer of help works better than trying to “fix” the problem.

8. Do not bring up the topic of replacements—he does not like to feel like he’s “filling in” for anyone.

9. Avoid giving him unsolicited praise. He’s used to doing things under the radar and can find compliments awkward or unnecessary.

10. If he’s working on a problem or case, don’t interrupt him unless it’s important. Tim can get frustrated with distractions.

Duke Thomas

1. He’s usually tired after his day shift, so please make sure he rests and no one disturbs.

2. Don’t bring up his parents, unless he talks about it.

3. Do NOT mention Joker gas.

4. He enjoys classical music when stressed, especially piano.

5. Don’t treat him like he’s fragile—he’s been through a lot and prefers to handle things himself.

6. Avoid pushing him into leadership roles or responsibilities he’s not comfortable with. He prefers to work in the background.

7. If he’s meditating or doing personal exercises, don’t interrupt unless it’s urgent.

8. Don’t make assumptions about his powers or the “We Are Robin” group. He’s more than just his role in the city.

9. if you wanna calm him down, he does enjoy a good old school sitcom.

10. If he’s quiet or withdrawn, don’t push him to talk. Let him open up on his own terms.

Damian Wayne

1. Don’t treat him like a child when it comes to conversation. Despite his age, treat him as an equal, but appropriately. He wants to feel respected and listened to, not controlled.

2. It’s easy for him to feel inadequate, especially if you overlook him. To fix this, you can try creating tasks that are challenging yet accomplishable.

3. He can forget to be a child, and you will too sometimes. He may make you angry or stress you, but he’s still a kid. Remember he enjoys childhood things, even if he won’t mention it. Play video games, go outside, and do things as you remember from your own childhood.

4. Do NOT mention the sword scar.

5. Avoid belittling his pride or his skills. He is very sensitive about being underestimated.

6. Don’t bring up his mother, Talia, unless he initiates the conversation. He’s conflicted about her and the League of Assassins.

7. Don’t call him ‘little demon’ or any other nickname that mocks his heritage. He takes his legacy very seriously.

8. If he’s pushing himself too hard, don’t dismiss his need for rest. He may act like he doesn’t need it, but he’s still growing and has limits.

9. Don’t imply that he’s just trying to prove himself. Damian is often trying to be seen as worthy, and suggesting he’s just seeking approval can hurt his pride.

10. If he’s upset or angry, don’t try to rush him through it. Let him cool down on his own before approaching him.

Cassandra Cain

1. She spends too much time alone; please don’t push her away.

2. Do not walk up on her. Make your presence known if you value your bones.

3. If you’re picking the movie, don’t choose “Kill Bill.”

4. If you want to cheer her up, take her to the ballet.

5. Avoid making assumptions about her because of her silence. She’s not shy, just more selective with her words.

6. Don’t bring up her past as an assassin unless she initiates the topic.

7. Don’t force her into social situations. She’s comfortable in her own space and will engage when she’s ready.

8. If she’s in a bad mood, give her time to process things alone. Don’t try to “fix” it.

9. Don’t treat her like she’s broken or fragile. Her silence doesn’t mean weakness.

10. Respect her boundaries. She values her autonomy and can feel trapped if pushed too much.

11. Do touch her hair or pet her head.

Stephanie Brown

1. Do not get drunk around her, especially if you are a belligerent drunk.

2. Don’t belittle her efforts or dismiss her contributions—she’s very self-conscious about being underestimated.

3. Avoid comparing her to the others girls, she’s working hard to prove herself, and it’s a sensitive topic.

4. If she’s struggling with something, don’t try to fix it right away. She might just need someone to listen and give her space to figure things out.

5. Don’t assume she’s just the “optimistic, cheerful” one. Stephanie has her own burdens and isn’t always in the mood to be “the bright spot.”

6. Never imply she’s not capable. She’ll do anything to prove her worth.

7. Don’t joke about her past failures. She’s been through a lot, and some things are still very fresh for her.

8. If she’s in a bad mood, give her time and don’t push her to open up. Let her come to you when she’s ready.

9. Avoid any talk of the riddler.

10. If she’s feeling anxious or uncertain, don’t rush her through it or try to “cheer her up.” Let her work through things at her own pace.

Barbra Gordon

1. She’s savvy and incredibly intelligent, but even she needs a break—don’t consistently bother her.

2. Don’t push her wheelchair; she doesn’t need pity or your help unless she asks for it.

3. Do NOT touch her back.

4. Be considerate of movies or shows with a lot of gun violence and loud, abrupt sounds.

5. Avoid reminding her of her past as Batgirl, unless she brings it up herself.

6. Don’t assume she’s incapable of handling something herself. She’s incredibly resourceful and prefers to figure things out on her own.

7. Respect her boundaries when it comes to her personal space—she doesn’t like to feel crowded or rushed.

8. Never offer unsolicited assistance, especially when it comes to tech or systems. She’s more than capable and might find it patronizing.

9. If she’s not responding right away, don’t assume she’s ignoring you—she may just be deep in thought or focusing on something.

10. If she’s having a difficult day, don’t push her to “talk it out.” She might need space to process things on her own.

11. If you wanna take pictures with her she’s okay, unless it’s with a polaroid camera.

Alfred Pennyworth

1. He desires his own space; he does so much already. That being said, he doesn’t really like people cooking in his kitchen—what’s wrong with what he made?

2. Don’t interfere with his routines or try to take over his responsibilities. He’s been running the Manor for years and prefers to handle things his way.

3. Avoid offering unsolicited advice about the family. He’s seen it all and knows what’s best for everyone—no need to second-guess his judgment.

4. Don’t overcomplicate things for him. Alfred is a man of simple, practical solutions. Keep it straightforward.

5. Don’t treat him like a servant. He’s family, and he values being respected as such.

6. Never try to undermine his authority or give the children permission to do things he’s already said no to. He’s earned their respect as a father figure.

7. If he’s tired or overworked, don’t push him to keep going. Alfred will always put others first, but don’t take advantage of his generosity.

8. Avoid mentioning his past in the military unless he brings it up. He doesn’t care to dwell on it and would rather focus on the present.

9. Don’t try to be overly affectionate or emotional with him, especially in public. Alfred prefers to keep things composed and proper.

10. If he’s making tea or offering a meal, don’t turn it down unless you absolutely have to. It’s one of the ways he shows he cares.

[maria-taiwin]

I'm seeing a lot of fake news on the japanese stage play of MDZS (especially because a lot of toxic people are just taking the chance for the million times to shit on The Untamed, you are not so brilliant for that) so here two cents:

- this is a stage play, a theatrical experience, so IT'S NOT a live action. It will not be divided like an anime or a tv drama with numerous episodes. It will be divided in stage acts. Because it has a limited run, do not expect to be a 1:1 carbon copy of the book.

- recording on theatre is illegal, they catch you and you will get your ass kicked. If you go, do not expect you can film it with your iphone

- It will be up to the theater's discretion whether to release the opera on paid streaming or on a DVD. But again do not expect it will be so simple to find it on movies free streaming. If you have the chance, support economically the opera. (Tickets are by lottery. Entry is open until jan 7 and results are jan 11. The production is set in march-april on Tokyo and Kyoto).

- though you shouldn't expect to be a carbon copy of the book, especially because MDZS wasn't born to be a theatrical experience, your hype shouldn't be low. Yeah, the adaptation is japanese but the japanese opera is famous to stay faithful to the original source material, they are historically known to adapt from stories all over the world. Of course while using japanese elements, so far they've been faithful to the original source material about the main theme of the story, so you shouldn't be worried about faithfulness of the scenes.

- the jap opera is very creative as regards the scenography and set design. Your eyes will be blessed

- the actors are already skilled in BL genre. So is the japanese theatre. Do not expect it to be like thai BL, but I'm confident we will see kisses.

- no, the japanese won't give a fuck about other opinions, especially international opinions, so the stage play won't get canceled because of some random user on twitter.

- no, the japanese don't hate The Untamed, in fact it got very popular even there. The dvd/blu ray box entered top 10 best seller rank.

Congratulations on who will get the chance to watch this wonderful experience because japanese stage plays always are 😊

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 20

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen and Gabby enjoy a laid-back evening together, starting with burgers from a cozy local spot near Gabby’s apartment. Their casual dinner transitions into an intimate at-home date night filled with easy conversation and quiet moments of connection that deepen their bond. However, the peaceful night takes an unsettling turn when Gabby receives a late-night phone call from an ex.

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: Mild Language (words like "dammit" and other mild profanities), Themes of Emotional Distress (feelings of unease and discomfort related to previous relationships), Discussions of Safety and Boundaries (includes mentions of possible stalking or unwanted contact, which might be sensitive to some readers), Protective Behavior: Glen’s reaction, while supportive, includes heightened emotions and protectiveness that may feel intense for some readers.

A/N: Hey guys! So this chapter has a lot of upbeat, happy moments, and I do love that for Gabby but I also feel like real life and real relationships always have a few bumps so this chapter includes a bump for Gabby and Glen. This chapter does include a slightly different side of Glen than we've seen, but I think I did okay with conveying what he may be thinking or feeling in this situation. As always please let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs. I love seeing your thoughts on this story as it progresses!

As they wrapped up their leisurely walk through the park, Gabby’s stomach gave a soft, audible grumble, making her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

Glen, ever attuned to her, chuckled and said, “We should probably eat. Skipping lunch for... other activities wasn’t the most sustainable plan.” His teasing tone made Gabby’s face heat even more, and she swatted playfully at his arm.

“I wasn’t the one who suggested skipping lunch,” she shot back, her lips curling into a smirk despite herself.

Glen raised a brow, a grin appearing on his face. “Didn’t hear you complaining earlier when I was-”

Gabby groaned, covering her face with one hand as Glen laughed. “Alright, fine,” she said, peeking at him through her fingers. “I know a great burger place nearby. It’s become one of my favorite spots since moving here.”

“Burgers, huh?” Glen drawled, falling into step beside her as they exited the park. “Sounds perfect!”

“Are you sure…” Gabby teased, tilting her head as if considering something.

Glen grinned and then said "What?" with a chuckle.

"I mean have you seen your abs? Do you even eat burgers?”

He let out an exaggerated gasp this time, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded. “Now that’s just plain insulting. I’ll have you know I’m very experienced in the fine art of burger eating. Greasy hands and all.”

Gabby giggled, shaking her head at his theatrics. But as they reached the edge of the park and started down the sidewalk, she froze mid-step. “Oh. I forgot my purse back at the apartment.”

“It’s fine,” Glen said with a casual shrug. “I’ve got it.”

“No, no,” Gabby protested quickly, spinning on her heel to head back toward her place. “It’s my turn to buy. We’ll just swing by my place and grab it.”

But before she could take more than a few steps, Glen grabbed her hand, tugging her back toward the direction of the restaurant. 

“Not happening,” he said firmly, his southern drawl soft but resolute.

“Glen—”

“Gabby,” he interrupted, his tone gentle yet teasing as he gave her hand a tug. “I’m covering it. End of discussion.”

“But—”

He shot her a knowing look, his hand tightening around hers as he started leading her down the street. “You can fight me on this all you want, sweetheart, but you’re not going back to the apartment just to grab your purse. Besides, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you pay?”

Gabby groaned, dragging her feet just enough to make a point, though her heart did a little flip at the way he called her sweetheart. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Maybe,” Glen replied with a wide grin. “But you love it.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, letting him steer her toward the burger joint as her heart warmed at the thoughtfulness behind his insistence.

When they turned the corner onto the street where the burger place was, Gabby groaned softly. Despite the fact it was barely past four in the afternoon, a line had already formed outside, snaking down the sidewalk. 

Glen raised an eyebrow as he took in the scene. “Popular spot, huh?”

“Yeah,” Gabby said with a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s a favorite of mine. It’s a local gem, but word must’ve gotten out. It’s not usually this packed.”

As they got closer, Glen glanced around, his posture shifting ever so slightly. Gabby followed his gaze and noticed a few people in line turning to look in their direction. Most didn’t say anything, but their glances lingered just a little too long, brows furrowing as if trying to place where they’d seen him before.

“Maybe we should get it to go,” Glen suggested, his voice low and calm. “Take it back to your place. Fewer people. Fewer eyes.”

Gabby didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, that works for me.”

But just as she finished speaking, a young woman broke away from the line and walked toward them, her phone already in hand. She was in her early twenties, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and sneakers, her eyes wide with excitement. 

“Oh my God, are you Glen Powell?” she asked, her voice tinged with nervous energy.

Glen offered a polite smile, the kind that came so naturally to him. “I am. Hi.”

“Can I… can I get a picture with you? I’m such a big fan,” she gushed, holding up her phone.

“Of course,” Glen said smoothly, already stepping a little to the side so she could position herself next to him.

Gabby, feeling a bit like an intruder, took a step back, giving them space. The fan snapped a selfie, her face practically glowing as she thanked him profusely.

As she walked back to the line, Glen turned to Gabby, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He slipped a credit card into her hand, his fingers brushing hers for just a moment. 

“Go ahead and order for us while I handle this,” he said, nodding toward the growing cluster of people who had now started to edge closer, their expressions filled with recognition.

“Are you sure?” Gabby asked, glancing at the credit card and then back at him.

“Yeah,” he said, flashing her a quick grin. “Double burger, no cheese, with everything else, and fries. I’ll meet you inside if I can, or back at your place if I can’t.”

Slipping inside the restaurant, Gabby took a steadying breath. The warm smell of burgers and fries hit her instantly, a comforting contrast to the whirlwind of activity outside. She stepped up to the counter, placed their order, and then stood off to the side, watching through the window as Glen patiently interacted with his fans.

Even as she admired his kindness and easy charm, a small part of her couldn’t help but think about how different her life would look if she stayed in his world. It was thrilling in some ways, but also overwhelming.

As Gabby moved to the side with their order receipt in hand, she glanced out the window again. Glen was surrounded now, a small crowd forming around him as if he were a magnet. His smile never wavered, and he seemed at ease, laughing and chatting with his fans as he signed autographs and posed for photos.

Gabby shifted her gaze, focusing on the cheerful chaos of the restaurant instead. The sizzle of burgers on the griddle and the chatter of diners filled the air, grounding her in the moment. She leaned against the counter, her fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the corner of the receipt.

She was happy for Glen’s success, for the way he connected with people, but moments like this also reminded her of the unique challenges that came with being close to someone like him.

Before she could dwell on it further, the cashier called her name, sliding a bag of food and two cups across the counter. Gabby grabbed them and headed toward the door, taking one last glance at Glen through the glass.

As Gabby pushed the door open, the warm air greeted her, along with the low murmur of voices blending with the hum of the city. Glen’s unmistakable figure was still surrounded, his broad shoulders towering above most of the fans who had gathered. She lingered just outside the restaurant, holding the bag of food in one hand and balancing the two drinks in the other.

Glen spotted her almost immediately. His eyes softened when they met hers, and for a moment, his signature grin was reserved just for her. He quickly returned his attention to the fans, posing for another picture and signing the back of someone’s phone case.

“Alright, guys,” Glen said, his southern drawl cutting through the chatter. “I hate to run, but I’ve gotta go.”

The crowd let out a mix of disappointed sighs and understanding smiles. “Thank you so much for stopping and saying hi,” he added, his charm in full effect. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to everyone, but maybe next time.”

With a few more quick waves and apologies, Glen excused himself and began making his way toward Gabby. She watched him weave through the small crowd with an effortless ease that never failed to amaze her.

When he reached her, Glen immediately took the two drinks from her hands. “Let me get those,” he said, his voice soft as if they were the only two people on the street.

“Thanks,” she replied, handing them over gratefully.

He glanced at the bag in her other hand. “Got everything?”

Gabby nodded. “Yep, burgers, fries, the works. Just hope it lives up to the hype I gave it.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the buzz of the city fading into the background. Glen shifted the drinks to one hand and reached for her free one with the other, his fingers intertwining with hers as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You didn’t have to cut them off, you know,” Gabby said after a moment, glancing at him.

Glen shrugged, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “I didn’t want to keep you waiting. Besides, I don’t mind signing a few things or taking pictures, but I’d rather spend my time with you.”

Gabby’s cheeks warmed at his words, and she squeezed his hand gently. Glen grinned down at her, his expression so genuine it made her chest tighten.

Back at Gabby’s apartment, the comforting smell of grilled burgers and salty fries filled the air as they unpacked their to-go order. Gabby grabbed some napkins from the kitchen while Glen set the drinks down on the coffee table. The cozy familiarity of the space wrapped around them, a quiet sanctuary far from the prying eyes of the world.

She plopped down onto the couch, cross-legged, balancing her burger and fries in her lap. Glen joined her, sitting close enough that their knees brushed. He opened his own burger, the wrapper crinkling in the quiet apartment. For a moment, the only sounds were their contented sighs and the occasional clink of an ice cube in their drinks.

“This is nice,” Gabby said between bites, gesturing vaguely at the room.

Glen chuckled. “A burger on a couch?”

She nudged him playfully with her foot. “Hey, don’t knock it. You’re the one who said this would live up to the hype.”

“And you weren’t wrong,” he admitted, holding up his burger like a toast. “It’s good.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a while before Glen set his food aside and leaned back against the couch, his gaze flickering toward her. “You know,” he began, his voice soft, “I’m sorry we don’t get to go on more...real dates.”

Gabby looked up from her fries, her expression thoughtful. “Real dates? Like fancy restaurants and candlelit dinners?”

Glen nodded, a small, sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, something like that. Something...normal.”

She tilted her head, considering his words. “Honestly? I kind of like this better.”

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “Sitting on your couch eating burgers?”

“Exactly.” Gabby smiled, her tone warm. “It’s just...us. No cameras, no crowds, no worrying about what we’re supposed to wear or how we’re supposed to act. Just you, me, and a really good burger.”

Glen leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied her. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” she replied, her smile softening. “Don’t get me wrong, the idea of you surprising me with some romantic, sweeping date is nice. And we'll get there. Eventually people will find out about us and then we can go out and do stuff together. But this? This feels real. It feels...right. At least for right now.”

A genuine grin spread across Glen’s face, his eyes lighting up. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Gabby shrugged, popping a fry into her mouth. “Yeah, but you like me anyway.”

Glen leaned back against the couch, a laugh rumbling low in his chest. “That I do,” he said, his grin lingering as he glanced at Gabby.

For a moment, he simply watched her. The way she picked up another fry and twirled it idly in her fingers, the light catching the soft curve of her smile, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she looked at him. How had he ever gotten so lucky? She was smart and funny, quick with a teasing remark but always knowing when to be gentle. She challenged him in ways that made him want to be better, and somehow, she fit into his life so seamlessly—getting along with his family, handling his whirlwind schedule, and being unbothered by the chaos that came with dating someone like him.

Glen wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring, lost in his thoughts, when Gabby caught his gaze. Her brow furrowed slightly as she tilted her head.

“What?” she asked, reaching for a napkin and swiping it across her mouth. “Do I have ketchup on my face or something?”

That broke his trance, and he chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?” she pressed, her tone light but curious as she crumpled the napkin in her hand.

Glen hesitated for a second, feeling a flush of vulnerability rise in his chest, but then he decided to just say it. “I was just thinking about how perfect you are.”

Gabby froze, the fry halfway to her mouth, her eyes widening. “What?”

“You’re perfect,” Glen said, his smile turning softer. “For me, anyway. You’re smart, funny, way too patient with me and my crazy life,” he added with a teasing grin.

Gabby blinked, her face turning a shade pinker as she shifted uncomfortably on the couch. She glanced down at the food in her lap, fiddling with the edge of the wrapper. “I... I don’t know what to say to that,” she admitted, her voice quieter now.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Glen assured her, leaning closer and nudging her knee with his. “I just wanted you to know.”

She lifted her gaze back to his, her lips twitching into a small, shy smile. “I’m not really good at... taking compliments like that,” she confessed.

“I’ve noticed,” Glen said, his tone teasing but fond. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I’ll keep giving them anyway.”

Gabby’s cheeks flushed deeper, but the warmth in his voice settled something inside her. “You’re impossible, you know that?” she said, trying to cover her shyness with humor.

“Yeah,” Glen replied, leaning back with a grin. “But you like me anyway.” He added, mocking her earlier words just minutes before.

Her soft laugh filled the space between them, and for a moment, the world felt small and perfect. Just them, a couple of burgers, and a quiet evening in the only place they both wanted to be.

By the time they finished their burgers, the golden light of early evening was spilling through the windows of Gabby’s apartment. Glen stretched his legs out in front of him, his socked feet propped up on the edge of her coffee table. Gabby stood, gathering up their empty wrappers and drink cups, and he couldn’t help but watch her again, this time admiring the ease with which they fit together, even in such an ordinary moment.

“So,” she said as she walked back from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel before tossing it onto the counter. “What now?”

Glen grinned, pulling her down onto the couch beside him. “Now, we watch a movie.”

Gabby raised a brow, settling into the crook of his arm. “Oh yeah? And what cinematic masterpiece are you gracing me with tonight?”

“Masterpiece is a strong word,” Glen teased, reaching for the remote. “But I’ve got one in mind. It’s a classic.”

“Classic as in ‘actual classic,’ or classic as in ‘one of those movies guys insist everyone has to see?’” Gabby asked, her lips quirking into a smirk.

Glen shot her a mock-offended look. “Hey, I have great taste. You’ll thank me for this one.”

Gabby laughed, curling her legs beneath her as Glen pulled up the movie. Her curiosity piqued as the title appeared on the screen. “Wait, you’re kidding,” she said, glancing up at him. “You’ve been telling me to watch this for how long now?”

“Too long,” Glen replied, pressing play. “It’s about time you finally listened to me, and watched it.”

Gabby rolled her eyes playfully but leaned into his side, her head resting against his shoulder as the opening credits began to roll. “This better be good,” she teased, though the warmth in her voice made it clear she was just happy to be there with him.

Glen smiled, draping his arm around her and pulling her closer. “Trust me,” he said softly.

As the movie began, Gabby shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. She tucked her feet beneath her, her knee brushing against Glen’s thigh. He didn’t seem to mind—in fact, he glanced down at her with a soft smile and adjusted his arm around her shoulders to give her more space.

A few minutes in, Gabby felt Glen’s hand begin to absentmindedly trace patterns along her arm. The motion was slow, soothing, and entirely distracting. She tried to focus on the screen, but the warmth of his touch sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. She glanced up at him, and he gave her a small, knowing smile, as if he was perfectly aware of the effect he was having on her.

“Am I supposed to be watching the movie or getting distracted by you?” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Can’t it be both?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the curve of her shoulder.

Gabby rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away. Instead, she nestled closer, letting her head rest against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, and she let the rhythm lull her into a state of utter contentment.

At some point during a particularly tense scene, Gabby shifted again, wrapping her arm around Glen’s middle. His hand slid from her arm to her waist, pulling her a fraction closer. She felt the press of his lips against her hair—gentle and fleeting, but enough to send her heart fluttering.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, tilting her head to glance up at him. “Just getting comfortable.”

As the movie played on, Gabby found herself more focused on the little things—like the way Glen’s fingers never stopped moving, tracing idle patterns against her skin, or the way he’d glance down at her with a contented smile whenever she laughed at a particularly funny line.

At one point, when a suspenseful scene had her gripping his shirt without realizing it, he leaned down and whispered, “Relax, sweetheart. It’s just a movie.”

During the two hours of the movie, time slipped away. The movie played on, but for Glen, it wasn’t just about the story on the screen. It was about moments like this—Gabby’s quiet laughter at the funny parts, the way she tensed during the suspenseful scenes, and the little comments she whispered, keeping up her running commentary.

As the credits began to roll, Gabby looked up at him with a satisfied smile. “Okay, I’ll admit it. That was pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” Glen echoed, feigning insult. “That’s all you’ve got?”

“Don’t push it, cowboy,” Gabby teased, patting his chest.

Glen chuckled, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head. “Fine. I’ll take pretty good,” he murmured, his voice low and content.

For a moment, they stayed like that, the world outside quiet and still, as if time had slowed just for them.

The soft glow of the TV illuminated the living room as they lingered on the couch, neither in a rush to move. Outside, the sky had deepened to an inky black, dotted with stars visible even from the city. Gabby sighed contentedly, still leaning against Glen’s chest.

“It’s getting late,” she murmured, tilting her head back to look at him.

“Mm,” Glen agreed, his hand brushing up and down her arm. “Guess I should let you get some rest.”

Gabby hesitated for a beat, her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “You don’t have to go,” she said softly, her voice tentative but hopeful.

Glen stilled, his gaze locking with hers. “You want me to stay?”

She nodded, her cheeks warming slightly. “Yeah, I’d like that. If you don’t mind.”

“Gabby,” he said, his voice soft but firm, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Her smile widened at his words, and she pushed herself up off the couch, holding out her hand to him. “Come on then,” she said, tugging him to his feet.

Glen followed her down the hall to her bedroom, the space cozy and familiar, just like the rest of her apartment. She flipped on a lamp, casting the room in a warm, golden light.

Gabby opened a drawer and pulled out a spare toothbrush, handing it to Glen with a small smile. “Figured you might need this,” she said, her tone light.

He chuckled, accepting it. “Always so thoughtful.”

They moved through the small routines of getting ready for bed with an ease that surprised Gabby. They stood side by side at the sink, brushing their teeth in companionable silence, the quiet intimacy of the moment grounding them both. Glen caught her gaze in the mirror and wiggled his eyebrows, earning a laugh that made her spit toothpaste into the sink.

She wasn’t used to sharing these intimate, quiet moments with someone else, but with Glen, it felt natural. By the time she returned to the bedroom, he was already there, pulling back the covers on her bed.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” she teased, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.

He smirked, tossing her a playful look. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Gabby rolled her eyes, but her heart swelled at how effortlessly he fit into her space. She slid into bed beside him, pulling the blanket up over her shoulders. Glen turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness save for the faint glow from the streetlights outside the window.

As they settled, Glen wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder, her hand splayed across his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” he murmured, his voice low in the quiet room.

Gabby tilted her head up to look at him, her expression soft. “Thanks for wanting to.”

Glen pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Always,” he said simply.

The stillness of the night wrapped around them as they lay there, their breaths evening out in sync. And for the first time in a long while, Gabby felt completely and utterly at peace.

* * * * *

Gabby stirred at the faint vibration of her phone on the nightstand, its soft buzz slicing through the stillness of the room. She blinked, her mind groggy as she reached for it, squinting at the sudden glow of the screen.

Her chest tightened when she saw the words No Caller ID.

She didn’t need to guess. She already knew.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, a cold knot forming in her stomach. She glanced at the time—11:47 p.m.—and sighed, the familiar sinking feeling taking hold. It was late back in Iowa. 2:47 to be exact.

It was Luke, her ex-boyfriend who she had been with for just under two years.

Luke’s late-night drunk calls had started a month after their breakup. They continued for another month before Gabby moved to Los Angeles, and now, six months after the breakup, they were still happening. It had been a few weeks, since the last time he'd called her, but the timing and reason for the call hadn’t changed.

He was drunk—he had to be. He wouldn’t be calling otherwise.

She could practically hear the slur in his voice before she even answered, the overconfident drawl that somehow still got under her skin.

Gabby’s jaw clenched, her body tense as she stared at the screen. She should let it go to voicemail. She knew she should. There was no reason to answer, not anymore. And yet…

Her thumb twitched.

Part of her wanted to pick up, even though she hated herself for it. There was a pull she couldn’t quite explain, like some small, destructive part of her still craved the chaos he brought into her life. Dammit. He always knew when to strike—when she was starting to find her footing, when she was beginning to move on. It was like he could sense it, somehow.

And now, of all times. Just when she’d finally found someone. Not just someone. Glen. Glen, who was still sleeping soundly behind her, his arm draped loosely over her waist, warm and grounding. Glen, who was the polar opposite of the man calling her right now. A stand-up guy who made her feel seen, cared for, safe.

Her heart twisted at the thought. Her ex knew nothing about Glen, but it didn’t matter. It was like he could somehow feel her happiness from a distance and just had to insert himself into it.

The phone buzzed again, insistent and unrelenting. He knew she’d pick up—he was sure of it. And the worst part? He was probably right.

Gabby glanced over her shoulder at Glen, still deeply asleep, his face relaxed in the faint moonlight. Her chest tightened with guilt as she carefully slid out from under his arm, moving as slowly and silently as possible. He shifted slightly but didn’t wake.

Phone in hand, she tiptoed out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. The living room was dim, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the walls. She stood there for a moment, staring at the screen.

Her thumb hovered over the green button. She shouldn’t do this. She knew better. But as much as she hated it, a part of her still needed to hear whatever excuse he had this time. Maybe it was closure. Maybe it was habit.

Or maybe it was just him, always knowing exactly how to pull her back in.

Gabby took a deep breath and answered, lifting the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

Gabby pressed the phone to her ear, her heart pounding in the silence. For a moment, she thought he might have hung up. But then she heard it—his voice, low and slurred, dragging her back to a place she never wanted to revisit.

“Gabby.”

It wasn’t a question, just her name, drawn out like a plea.

Her throat tightened. “Why are you calling me at three in the morning?”

There was a pause, a long, heavy silence where she could almost hear him piecing together an answer. Then came the half-hearted, slurred response she’d been expecting. “Sorry.”

It wasn’t sincere. It never was.

Before she could say anything, he kept going, his voice softening, slipping into the tone that used to make her believe him. “I just… I’ve been thinking about you. How’ve you been?”

Her stomach churned. She could already see where this was heading, the same road they’d gone down too many times before. She swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “I’ve been fine,” she said, keeping her voice steady.

“I miss you.” The words hit her like a weight, heavy and unwelcome.

Gabby closed her eyes, a bitter laugh caught in her throat. Of course, he did. He always missed her when he was drunk and alone, when it was convenient for him. She stayed silent, and when he spoke again, his voice cracked just slightly. “When are you coming home?”

Home. The word used to mean something when it came from him, but not anymore. 

Her gaze drifted to the bedroom door, just a few feet away. She thought of Glen, his warmth, his patience, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. A man who truly made her feel like she was home when she was with him.

And just like that, she felt it—the weight of all the years she’d wasted on a man who never deserved her. The tether he’d always had on her finally snapped.

“I’m not,” she said, her voice firmer than she expected.

There was a pause, and she could almost hear him processing her words. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m not coming back,” Gabby said, her resolve hardening. “My life is here now. In California. And I’m happy.”

Another silence, this one shorter, sharper. Then he asked, his tone shifting, edged with suspicion, “Are you seeing someone?”

Gabby’s chest tightened. She hesitated, just for a moment, but it was long enough for him to pounce.

“You are, aren’t you?” His voice was rising now, slurred anger bubbling to the surface. “I knew it. You’re lying, Gabby. You’ve got someone else.”

Her grip tightened on the phone as she stared at the closed door, her heart aching with both frustration and determination. Glen didn’t deserve to be dragged into this mess.

A part of her wanted to tell Luke about him—about the man who treated her with care and respect, who made her feel safe and loved in ways Luke never could. She wanted Luke to know that she wasn’t his to control anymore, that she was falling asleep next to someone else, waking up next to someone else, living a life he had no part in.

But she couldn’t. Luke couldn’t find out about Glen—not because she was afraid of Luke, but because of who Glen was. The moment Luke found out that Glen Powell was her boyfriend, he’d latch onto it, twisting it into a storm of anger and jealousy, a storm Glen didn’t deserve to weather. And she wouldn’t let Luke drag him into that chaos.

Glen had given her a new kind of peace, and she wasn’t going to let anyone take it away—not even Luke.

"No. There's no one else," she said sharply, cutting him off with the lie. "I'm just done, Luke."

Saying his name felt like a final step, severing the last thread between them.

He started to speak again, but she didn’t let him. “Don’t call me anymore. I mean it.”

Gabby ended the call with a quiet click, lowering the phone to her lap as the silence of the apartment closed in around her. Her heart was still racing, her mind tangled in a web of thoughts she didn’t want to examine too closely.

Luke’s voice lingered in her ears, even though she wished it wouldn’t. Why now? Why tonight? It was like he knew, somehow, that she’d finally moved on, that she’d finally found someone who treated her the way she’d always deserved.

Glen. Her chest tightened at the thought of him, still asleep in her bed, blissfully unaware of the storm that had just passed through her mind. She didn’t want to disturb him with this, didn’t want Luke’s presence to creep into the sanctuary she was building with Glen.

All she wanted to do was crawl back into the sanctuary of his arms, go back to sleep, and try to forget about Luke. But as much as she wanted to push it all away, Gabby knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Not yet. She needed to clear her head first.

Sliding off the couch, she set her phone on the coffee table and grabbed a textbook from the nearby shelf. It wasn’t the most exciting option, but it was something. Something to focus on, something to fill the silence and the space in her mind where Luke’s words had tried to settle.

She flicked on the lamp next to the couch, its soft glow cutting through the darkness, and sat back down. Opening the book to a random page, she tried to focus on the words in front of her. But her thoughts kept wandering back to Luke.

It wasn’t the first time he’d called her like this, and she doubted it would be the last. He somehow always knew how to worm his way back in, to find her weakest moments and exploit them. For a while she had. She’d let him call her and she would talk to him for awhile each time, convincing herself that his late-night calls meant something. That he missed her. That he cared.

But tonight felt different. Tonight, she hadn’t felt the old pull, the old ache to answer his questions and ease his loneliness. Instead, she’d felt… anger. Frustration. Even a little pity.

And when she’d told him she wasn’t coming back, she’d meant it.

Gabby let out a slow breath, leaning her head back against the couch. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was taking control. Like she was finally closing a door she should have shut a long time ago.

The creak of the bedroom door pulled Gabby from her spiraling thoughts. She looked up as Glen appeared, his hair sticking up in soft tufts from sleep and his shirt rumpled from lying in bed. He rubbed at his eyes as he shuffled toward her, concern already etching into his features when he saw the lamp on and Gabby sitting on the couch.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep. “What’re you doing out here?”

Gabby straightened, quickly closing the textbook and placing it on the coffee table. “Oh, uh, nothing. Just couldn’t sleep.”

Glen’s gaze flicked to her phone on the table, the screen dark now but still holding weight in the silence. “You okay? Did something wake you up?”

She hesitated, then forced a small smile. “Just a spam call. You know how annoying those can be.”

Glen frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. She was avoiding his gaze, her hands fidgeting with the corner of the textbook, and her teeth were tugging at her lower lip—a habit he’d learned she only fell into when she was deep in thought.

“Spam call, huh?” he said, moving to sit beside her. His voice was calm, but there was a note of skepticism in it. “At midnight?”

Gabby glanced at him, then back at her phone, as if debating what to say next. “Yeah. Weird timing, I know.”

Glen tilted his head, watching her carefully. “Gabby.” He reached out, gently placing his hand over hers to still her fidgeting. “What’s going on? Really.”

She sighed, her shoulders sinking under the weight of the question. “It’s nothing…” She trailed off, her voice faltering.

Glen waited, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. 

When she didn’t continue, he pressed gently, his tone soft but firm. “It doesn’t seem like nothing. You’re biting your lip, you’re avoiding looking at me, and you’re way too awake for someone who’s ‘just fine.’ Talk to me.”

Gabby hesitated for a long moment, then finally relented, her voice barely above a whisper. “It was… Luke.”

“Who is Luke?”

“My ex.”

Glen’s brow furrowed. “Your ex called you? At midnight?”

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the coffee table. “Yeah. He’s… drunk, I’m sure. He always is when he calls this late.”

Glen sat back slightly, processing her words. “How often does this happen?”

Gabby shrugged, her tone too casual, too dismissive. “I don’t know. Once in a while. It’s not a big deal.”

But Glen wasn’t convinced. “Gabby.” His voice was sharper this time, not with anger but with concern. “How often is ‘once in a while’? Is this the first time? The second? The tenth?”

She sighed again, crossing her arms over her chest. “It doesn’t matter. He’s just… being drunk and stupid. He does this sometimes, but it’s harmless. I don’t answer most of the time.”

Glen’s jaw tightened. “And when you do answer?”

“This time I told him I’m not coming back to Iowa,” Gabby said simply, her voice steady but her gaze distant. “I told him my life is here now.”

Glen exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Okay, but what if he doesn’t get the message? What if he keeps calling? Or worse—what if he shows up here?”

Gabby shook her head, her tone soft but resolute. “He won’t. He’s not… like that.”

“How do you know that?” Glen asked, his voice dropping to a low, measured tone that carried an edge of barely-contained tension. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair as he stood and began to pace in front of her couch.

Gabby frowned, watching him. “Glen—”

“No.” He turned to her, his expression serious, almost angry, but not at her—never at her. “This isn’t okay. Him calling you in the middle of the night like this. It’s not normal.”

She bit her lip, unsure how to respond, but Glen wasn’t finished. He took a step closer, his voice still steady but tinged with urgency. “What if he’s not just calling? What if he decides to come out here and try to talk to you in person? Do you know how easily that could happen? Or what he might do if you don’t give him the answer he wants?”

“Glen, he’s not like that,” she insisted softly, though even she didn’t sound entirely convinced. "He wouldn't hurt me."

“You don’t know that,” Glen said firmly, his eyes locking onto hers. “You don’t know what someone’s capable of when they think they’re losing control. And the fact that you didn’t tell me this has been happening before tonight?” He shook his head, his frustration clear, though his voice softened as he added, “I wish you would’ve told me sooner, Gabby.”

Her defenses faltered under the weight of his concern. She crossed her arms, hugging herself as she looked down. “I know. I should’ve. I just… I didn’t want to make it a big deal. I thought I could handle it on my own.”

Glen’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his tone was gentler but no less resolute. “You shouldn’t have to handle this on your own. You don’t have to handle this on your own.”

She finally looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know.”

Glen stepped closer, his hands resting on her knees as he kneeled down in front of her. “Gabby, this… this is serious.”

Her breath caught, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I don’t want you to worry about me, Glen.”

“That’s not how it works,” he said, his voice softening even more. “When you care about someone, you worry about them. And I care about you, Gabby. More than I can even put into words.”

For a moment, the weight of his words hung in the air between them. Then, he gently cupped her face, his thumbs brushing lightly along her cheeks. “Please block his number. Tonight. Promise me.”

She nodded, leaning into his touch. “Okay. I promise.”

Glen exhaled, some of the tension easing from his shoulders as he kissed her forehead. “Thank you. And if he tries to contact you again—anything at all—you tell me. No more keeping this to yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice steady but her heart full.

Glen pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, and then he stood up, holding a hand out to her. “Come here,” he said softly.

Gabby hesitated for only a second before placing her hand in his. He gently tugged her to her feet and into his arms, wrapping them securely around her. The tension that had been simmering between them seemed to melt away as he held her close, one hand resting on the small of her back while the other cradled the back of her head. He kissed the top of her head, lingering there for a moment, and she leaned into him, her head resting against his chest as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

“I’m sorry for getting upset,” Glen murmured, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “I didn’t mean to come off like that. I just… I care about you so much, Gabby. More than I can explain. And the thought of something happening to you—it drives me crazy.”

Her arms tightened around him in response, and she tilted her head just enough to look up at him. “I know. And I get it, Glen. I really do.”

Gabby closed her eyes and let herself relax completely in his arms, letting the warmth of his words and the strength of his embrace settle the unease that Luke’s call had stirred in her. For the first time since the call had woken her up, she felt a sense of peace she hadn’t realized she was craving—a peace that only Glen seemed to bring her.

[water-lemon-alex]

It’s finished! Welcome to II-blr’s…

PRE-II18 MINI-Q&A!

A set of 18 QUESTIONS celebrating 18 EPISODES that I’ve prepared for the entire fandom!!! Reblogs are definitely appreciated! As a bonus, you can go into my ask box and ask me any of the questions that *I* made!

You can answer as many questions as you want! Answer one, two, or maybe all of them!

There are no right or wrong answers! Everyone in the II fandom is welcome! (just no rule-breaking responses, please!)

STRICTLY NO LEAKS OR SPOILERS FOR THE UPCOMING EPISODE!!! Please be respectful to those who weren’t able to see the the theatrical releases! (including myself!)

(POST-II18 EDIT: IF YOU’RE GOING TO POST SPOILERS JUST TAG IT WITH THE SPOILER TAGS!! I’ve already watched the episode anyway, this is just for the people who haven’t watched the episode yet!

Transcript + Description:

1. Favorite character/s? (bonus: give one that debuted in each season)

Everyone in the fandom has this character that they love a tiny bit over the others. Who is YOUR favorite character? Or characters, if you have many.

2. Favorite season? (S1, S2 or S3?)

Between Inanimate Insanity, Inanimate Insanity 2 and Inanimate Insanity Invitational, which one of them did you like the most, and why? Is it their charm? Their artstyle and animation? Or is it because you enjoy it the most? There’s no wrong answers!

3. Favorite episode? (bonus: give one from each season)

Inanimate Insanity has 54 (about to be 55!) episodes in total! (not including S1 Ep. 5.5.) Out of all those episodes, which one did you enjoy the most, and why?

4. Favorite scene/s? (bonus: give one from each season)

Every episode is made out of SCENES! Was there a specific scene that you really liked, and why? From the emotions, the voice direction, your connection to the scene, or ALL OF THEM?

5. Favorite team? (across all seasons?)

Between Season One’s Team Epic and Team Chicken Leg, Season Two’s Bright Lights and Grand Slams, and Invitational’s (Old OR New) Sinkers, Thinkers and Pinkers, which among all these teams were the best among the rest?

6. Favorite ship/s and/or friendship/s?

You can’t have a fandom without ships! What are YOUR favorite ships? If romantic pairs aren’t your thing, give some friendships that you really loved.

7. A character you’d like to know more about?

With all the characters within the show, we’ve been dying to know more about the characters that didn’t get as much screentime as the others! Who do YOU want to know more about?

8. Favorite non-contestant? (Host, Co-Host, Misc., etc.)

Let’s give some love to those who don’t partake in the game! Your favorite non-contestant could also be the same as your favorite character! They could be hosts, co-hosts, background characters, other Meeple products— HECK, maybe Steve Cobs himself! There are a lot of characters out there that aren’t in the premises of the game.

9. Favorite voice for a character / favorite voice actor?

Let’s give some love to our beloved crew members who made the show possible! There was DEFINITELY that one character who you really like solely from their voice. Who is your favorite voice for a character, or your favorite voice actor?

10. Favorite song/s?

Let’s get musical! Without the people behind the music of II, these bangers would’ve never been possible! What is a song from the show that you’d put on repeat?

11. If you’d like to go to any location in the show, where would it be?

From the mysterious underground Gemory Cave to the Meeple Headquarters found in the sky, the world of II is endless! Maybe you want to go to a contest area to try a few challenges yourself. Or you want to relax and explore Hotel OJ!

12. Favorite canon divergence / AUs in the fandom (if any)

Now let’s give some love to our artists and writers in this very app! There’s a lot of awesome alternate universes in this fandom. (heck, I have an AU myself! the WTI au! check it out pspspspsps /nf) What are some alternate scenarios you’ve thought of that would make a GREAT AU? Or maybe some existing ones that you’ve followed for a while now?

13. How were you introduced to I.I.?

Were you introduced to the show when you were a child? Or maybe you’ve just learned about it pretty recently? Everyone starts somewhere!

14. What is a crossover (any crossover!) that you’d love to see?

We all have interests outside of II. Let it be shows, games, movies, books, or other interests! Even if it would absolutely NEVER happen in reality, what media do you think should have a crossover or collaboration with the show?

15. If you could get any merch you want, what are you getting?

Imagine this. You have won a raffle, and your prize is ANYTHING YOU WANT that has been sold during II’s runtime! Let it be t-shirts or mugs that aren’t being sold anymore, plushies that got sold out or on sale right now, or all the cool merch that is being sold this holiday season! Heck, you can ask for a merch item that hasn’t existed yet! Like your favorite character that doesn’t have a plushie yet! What are YOU getting?

16. Would you recommend the show to your friends/family?

Maybe you’re too shy to show it to people you’re close to, and that’s fine! But would you recommend the show to others?

17. What do you want to see more from the show that didn’t happen?

This is related to the AU question! Maybe it could be a scenario that happens after the movie, or a look into the daily lives of the contestants. Let’s hope that after II18, we’ll still have post-movie content…

18. How much does I.I. mean to you?

This fandom has grown to be a vast space full of talented creators big and small. You may have made a friend or two, maybe you just joined the fandom. There are no wrong answers. What is Inanimate Insanity to you? It could be as small as a simple show you’re interested in, or as big as the show having changed your life.

Thank you for reading through! Reblogs appreciated of course! To prove that you’ve read through the whole post…

[britcision]

Tell you what tho

I read Lord of the Rings when I was 10… and 11… because it took me that long to finish it

And I do remember reading it, and I remember being a little confused by the tangents and the history and geography and speed reading those bits trying to find the adventure, and first seeing the movies and knowing the story

But I hadn’t read them since

And I know the movies well enough that I can identify which scenes in the extended version weren’t in the theatrical release and which weren’t in the original shorter extended version

But reading the first book again now as an adult… I am absolutely reading it for all those tangents and the history and geography to devour the entire world and I’m barely interested in the Ring and the quest

And all of it feels new

Like, I very specifically remember single lines pretty much at random through the book so every time I’m sorta getting lost in “wow I don’t remember this at all” suddenly I’m finishing the next sentence before I turn the page

And I think that says something about growth and aging and time

Because I was always a little nerd, my bedtime stories were Discworld before I could talk, I read Lord of the Rings solely because it had 1000 pages and I considered that a challenge and I stuck to it even when I wasn’t all that interested in the extended lore because of that

(May Tolkien forgive me, but I was 10!)

And back then I was reading for The Quest and The Story Of The Fellowship and things that were happening now

And so little of it stuck with me that it’s almost all new all over again, and I’m discovering all of this wonderful extended lore and devouring the history and yeah the Silmarillion’s gonna come after the full trilogy and it’s all new to me

And it’s also so familiar

I remember half the songs, but I hadn’t remembered they were Tolkien’s

I just… kept singing them. I can do most of Gilgalad’s from memory, but I couldn’t swear that’s how you spell the name

And part of it is that my family also used to do the radio editions of Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit on long drives or as family time in the evening, and I really did only read the actual book once

(Possibly not long after we finished the radio drama version, which is why I was so confused by the extended Shire adventures)

So it might just be that I know the now so well already, that’s so familiar, that I can finally focus on the rest of the world

But I think it’s also because the older I’ve gotten, the more I want to look behind the curtain. To see the lore, the making of, how things work and connect and see everything that made the story of now possible in everything I see

The more I read the more I see Tolkien’s hand, his pen, his values and what he believed mattered, and he was right. It matters to care for the land and the world and growing things, even if it doesn’t have monetary value. It matters to choose to do good, even with no reward

It matters to take your time, to do things the right way instead of the easy or cheap way, to cherish and value everything that lives, however small. It matters to care, more than anything shiny and golden

And also yes I am also learning that the way I write apparently has a lot more in common with Tolkien than I thought, so you can all blame him for the length of Dead And Loving It and all the lore and my need to expand the universe in every direction and obsess over every connection

I’m certainly nowhere near on his level, but even in a book I only read once… I think Tolkien shaped quite a lot of what I consider good quality writing and world building

And I think he’d appreciate that

And from now on I’ll be explaining my utter refusal to cut any “unnecessary” perspectives or world building with “would you have edited Tolkien?” Because the answer’s always “nope” his publisher said so

[lady-bess]

Fallout - Chapter 11 "Wipe The Slate"

Jack Daniels x F!Reader Explicit/18+ (Minors DNI please) Chapter Word Count: 9.2k Chapter Tags: Anger, Themes of Betrayal, Missions, Kissing, Angry Kissing, hehe, revelations, Jack realises maybe he cares.

Series Masterlist | A03 Link | Tumblr Masterlist

<- Previous Chapter (Ch. 10 - "Furtherance")

After months of tensions, you and Jack finally look like you're at breaking point with one another. But who will crack under pressure first?

You

To say the last few months had been challenging with Jack would be a fucking understatement. And while you were sympathetic to a degree, there was only so much you could handle him acting like this. The two of you might no longer cross paths as often, but each time you did was a laborious chore that almost brought you to the edge of tearing out your own hair. 

Or his. You weren’t fussy. 

You’d got your answer as to why Jack was so furious after that meeting almost as soon as you’d sat down in that interview room with Champ. He’d wanted to put on a few more theatrics for you, apparently, really make you think that it was just an ordinary meeting, and then ask about if you’d be interested in the senior position. But after Jack’s outburst in the corridor, he didn’t see the point, and so the whole facade fell away before your very eyes. The wool was pulled back, and Champ had opened up the meeting with what had occurred. 

He’d sighed as he invited you to take a seat, before unloading everything onto you that had just happened. You felt for Jack, understanding why he probably interpreted your promotion as a betrayal, even if it wasn't you who made the decision. Sometimes you felt like you were the only agent who did feel for him, and understand the torture he was going through most days. Even though he tried to hide it, his attempts were so often in vain; at least, in front of you. 

But for as much as you tried to reconcile with Jack in the days and weeks that followed Champ’s verdict, you were now going to be the painful reminder of his own mistakes going forward. As much as he had tried to put them behind him, and to focus on moving forward with you as his TO, this now brought all that ugly truth to the forefront of his mind. 

Again. 

You had felt yourself sink and retreat into the chair in which you sat that day, secretly pleading with Gods who may not even exist to relieve you of being the one to carry such a burden. There was a large part of you that wanted the leather cushions to swallow you whole so that you no longer had to deal with this - it had already been a strain to build a solid bond with Jack in the early days, and now this threatened to totally undermine any progress you made. But tried as you might, the weight had been bestowed upon yourself, and now you had to try and navigate a way forward with Jack. 

Without either of you killing each other first. Now that would be something amazing if the two of you managed it. 

The cruelest part of this whole ordeal was that the two of you could not even begin to put distance between yourselves in light of his training being effectively over. You had been more than happy to sign off Jack’s paperwork to clear him for active duty again; even without the revelations that came in Champ’s office, you were satisfied that Jack had more than proved himself recently. You and Loretta had worked with one another to surmise that Jack had now reached a physical and mental level where he would be safe to be released to active duty, and your decision had been made before you even set foot in Champ’s office that day. 

But Champ was doing some kind of ‘reshuffle’ , he’d said, as part of his new venture to make sure that agent's mental or physical health didn’t start to slip non-monitored again, as Jack’s had all those years ago. It wasn’t anything major, just mandatory training sessions with other agents, but when he insisted on pairing the two of you together it filled your heart with a rage towards your boss. 

Bastard. 

They might have only been once a week sessions, but any time in the presence of Jack recently had felt like torture. You spent most the week dreading your encounter, and then the subsequent days after feeling nothing but anger and frustration towards him. He might now be a ‘free man’ in the eyes of Statesman, but he wasn’t leaving the campus anywhere near as much as you might have hoped. Limited sessions and passing one another on the corridor was still too much interaction for you, if he was going to remain like this; stubborn, cruel, and unkind. 

As time went on he gradually stopped being such a cunt in your presence, and eventually the single word grunts you got from him as ‘conversation’ wore off. But that didn’t make things any better. He might have stopped his irritations at your mere existence from making him have outright angry outbursts, but receiving the cold shoulder week in, week out, wasn’t pleasant. He loathed the fact that he was still in training, seeing it not as a new venture for the company to improve, but rather a further punishment for himself. It wasn’t enough that he had been made to endure house arrest for months, but now to find he was still stuck with you , the person who now was the constant reminder of his shortcomings, ate away at Jack immensely. 

His guilt and disappointment in himself for what he’d lost, the mistakes he’d made, and what he still had to do to become a better man, were translated into bitter anger and frustration towards the only person who had stopped long enough to give him a chance. He knew it was wrong, but no reasoning had quite managed to get through to him yet that this wasn’t your fault. Alas, that didn’t totally stop him from behaving in a way that rendered you speechless. 

Today was another one of those days. 

“Pick it up , agent. Come on, I know you can do better!” you yelled at Jack, who was currently running laps around the gymnasium. The whole thing took you back to your early days as an agent where Tex would yell at all the budding Kingsman recruits to constantly be beating their own records, to push themselves further, and prove they had what it took. 

What you didn’t recall, though, was the aggressive undertone in those sessions which you so often found in these ones now. 

Over the last few sessions, Jack had improved his physical health more and more, and since signing him off as a proper agent you had felt comfortable to step up the kind of sessions that you were giving him. The hours were longer, the weapons used wielded more power, and you’d long since stopped holding back against him. You showed him no mercy now, partially fuelled by your own agitations at the fact he now resented you, but also because you knew he could do better. If he wanted to so badly be out into the field on solo missions, he would have to seriously step up and prove to everyone that he was more than capable of holding his own in any scenario. 

Jack came to a stumbling halt, the soles of his trainers squeaking against the floor, and he collapsed to the ground, his forearms hitting the wooden boards beneath him as he tried to stop his weight from landing through his wrists. He heaved his breaths out one by one, his eyes screwed up as he grimaced in mild pain from exhaustion. He knew he deserved this level of brutality, and that he’d need this training under his belt if he was ever going to be permitted to go on solo missions again, but right now he hated your guts for this. 

More than usual. 

He let himself flop down, laying himself out on his back for a few moments to catch his breath, paying no attention to your voice from the other side of the room. He grunted to himself and aggressively smacked his palms on the ground in frustration, before sitting up to get back on his feet. You watched as he glared across the room at you, your hands on your hips, as sweat dripped from his hairline and down his furrowed brow. 

“How many times have we gotta do this, London ?” Jack sneered at you, “If I can’t fuckin’ run to save myself now, after months of training, and I’m just gonna get my ass handed to me the second I’m allowed on a mission, then what’s the point?!”. 

He spoke with his hands, arms flailing to make his point heard, his actions almost erratic to watch. But Jack was not the kind of man who needed to add anything to his own voice to be seen - even while you resented him for treating you so poorly recently, he still dominated any space the two of you found yourself in. He exuded a confidence over others with his stature alone, something you had witnessed get built up in the aftermath of you gaining his moniker. It was like that was the final push he needed to go back to being the arrogant asshole Tequila had told you he once used to be - not the more reserved gentleman, who was down on his laurels, that you had been training most this year. 

“You just said it yourself, Jack. I ain’t having you injured the moment your toe crosses the line out there,” you reasoned, pointing towards the door to signify your argument. “Nothing about your training is a charade”. 

“Just admit it, you’re like Champ now,” Jack huffed, turning to walk away from you. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, not wanting to stoop to his level, but finding it hard to fight the urge to call him out on his bullshit. 

“How?!” you asked. “Heaven forbade me to care about your wellbeing, did it?”.  

Jack snapped. You saw every muscle in his body tense up before he turned on his heels and strode himself back towards you. His hands grasped at your body as soon as he could reach out, and with a gentle shove he pushed you so that your back slammed into the wall behind you, the air in your lungs being knocked from where they rested as he did. A faint whimper left your lips in shock, and very quickly you found yourself stuck in his fiery gaze. 

“This has nothing to do with my wellbeing, and you fucking know that! But for whatever reason, neither of you are granting me the chance to be free. I am a free man in all but words, London . I can leave the compound, but you’re not letting me do anything for the good of the company I have worked so hard to prove myself to. I have nothing! ” he yelled. 

With his hands firmly on your hips, you were pinned in place to the wall, forced to stare directly into dark eyes that reflected nothing other than hatred. Having nowhere else for them to go, your own hands rested on his chest, attempting to put a small bit of distance between the two of you. Jack didn’t scare you, and you knew he would never actually lay a hand on you. But this was the most intense encounter you’d had since the two of you ended up on the floor together before your promotion, and after so long of not feeling that burning flame between the two of you, it was surreal and intense to experience again. 

“Have you ever considered that perhaps we don’t think you’re ready yet?” you spat, your own anger threatening to burst out from the confines in which you kept it neatly tucked away. But Jack continued to push.

“ How am I not ready?! We’ve been doing this shit for months !” he yelled, still agonisingly close to your body. His fingers dug into your hips, almost like he was trying to push you through the wall behind you itself, and at the sharp pain that it sent through your body, you yourself broke any composure you had left.  

“ Look at yourself! ” you shouted back, making Jack slightly recoil, “You’ve got me pinned up against a wall, and for what ?! This doesn’t seem like the actions of a guy who has his shit together, does it?”.

You watched Jack’s eyes scan your face, shocked that you had chosen to yell back at him. Out of the two of you, you were always the one with a level head on your shoulders. It was very rare that you resorted to raising your voice, the only exception being if you were doing firearms training. He knew he’d fucked up, again , from the simple fact alone that you had chosen to give into the rising temper within you. But this constant feeling of failure, and always somehow managing to fuck things up, only angered him further. 

“ Fuck. You ,” he sneered, his brow knitting together and nostrils flaring with an enraged snarl of breath that had your spine shivering. 

“You wish ,” you said back through a half-laugh, fully aware of how childish of a response it was. But given his behaviour, you didn’t care. You were pissed off and angry at the man you’d been giving hours of your life to, only for him to get up in your face and yell at you for such a sacrifice. 

Jack scoffed, shaking his head at you. His hands drifted up slightly, rough calloused fingers now making contact with the slightest bit of skin beneath your shirt, before he squeezed even tighter - a reminder of the kind of life he used to lead, laid bare in his touch alone. 

“Shut up,” he said with a crack in his voice, before pushing himself on you entirely. 

In a fit of anger and frustration, Jack’s lips met yours. For as much as he wanted to keep hating you, he couldn’t see past the face before him - the one woman in so many years who had shown him such care and affection, now biting back at his snarky remarks. It ignited something so lost in him that he had forgotten what this feeling was - to be so enraged by someone’s existence that he all but lost control of his senses. He knew that he had been so wrong to not show you the same care and affection that you had shown him these past few months, and that this behaviour absolutely did not align with how he had been. But every nerve in his body overtook his mind, and kissing you was all that he could think about. 

He kissed you with a ferocity that had your breath taken away, and it took a few moments for your brain to catch up with what was happening. When you eventually came back to your body, you were surprised to find your fists bunching up the fabric of his shirt, and your own lips parted in agreement, kissing Jack back. The sheen of sweat that laid across his chest, lightly dappled in the material of his shirt, now peppered the tips of your fingers as you pulled him closer to you. 

Jack softly grunted as you succumbed to his touch, his kisses becoming more tender and desperate with each passing second. Your lips parted entirely, allowing him the access he so desperately craved. There wasn’t a beat of hesitation in his movements as you gave him what he wanted, and his tongue slid across the soft swell of your bottom lip as soon as he could have it. He lapped away at you as he kissed your lips, before dipping his tongue inside your mouth and having his fill of you there, running it along your own tongue and moaning softly in the back of his throat.

You didn’t stop him - not that you would even if you felt like you could . But he had you pinned both physically and metaphorically to him, and all you could do was give in to him and the desire that had been pooling between you both for months. His kisses were as tender as you remember them, and you relished in the feeling of him - everything from the way his moustache brushed against your top lip, to the vague coffee taste you found on his own tongue. A soft bitterness wrapped up in the body of a man you spent most your days hating. And yet, all of it had been what you yearned for since that day so many months ago. 

You didn’t want to admit how many nights you would fall asleep thinking about his weight pinning you to the ground, his lips on yours, and his hands wandering up your shirt. There had barely been any time for respite these past few months, between training sessions and missions, for you to go out with your friends and attempt to find comfort in the arms of another man’s embrace. The last encounter you had was with Jack, and it burned you inside that things were left like an open wound. Always clamouring for more, while simultaneously despising every atom in his body. 

Jack’s hands dipped down beneath your ass and hoisted you up around him. Still pinned to the wall, you now had your legs wrapped tightly around his narrow hips. Your thighs clenched as you gripped him with all your strength, your own hands leaving his shirt to dive into his thick hair. Locks of the dark brown and grey tresses entwined around your fingertips, and with every deepening kiss you tugged gently at the locks. You felt the deep rumble of a moan deep in Jack’s chest at each tug, and you whined softly in response. 

It was the perfect reunion. All the tension and anger that had been building between you both got swept up in the wind, blown away and replaced with lust and desire. Fingers dug into skin, teeth clashed, and your hearts pounded at a million miles an hour. You felt the blood rushing past your ears as you too now felt the urge and need to be and do so much more with Jack - almost to the point where it hurt. 

But then he broke, again. Filled with the overwhelming urge to take this further, to remove any clothing you still had which separated your bodies, Jack stopped. His eyes snapped open as he pulled his lips back, and he looked down at your flushed face in an almost horror at what he’d allowed himself to do. The evidence of his actions were as clear as the heat of the Kentucky sun in the middle of July, with your lips red and swollen from the ferocity, and your cheeks hot to the touch. A wave of shame washed over Jack, and slowly he released you from his grasp. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, putting you down and stepping away from you in one fell swoop. 

“Jack?” you beckoned, reaching out to try and grab him. Your heart still thudded in your chest, and you stumbled on shaky feet as you were left without his touch on you. But still, he continued to walk away. 

“I’m sorry, Whiskey,” he said, turning to you solemnly. All the anger that had been brewing had dissipated, and before you now was the same defeated man you once met. The man who didn’t think he would ever earn himself a second chance here with Statesman. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow”. 

And with nothing else to say, Jack turned to leave the room. 

~~~

Like with your first encounter on the gymnasium floor, you and Jack never talked about your kiss. But there had perhaps been some benefit to what occurred. Slowly but surely, Jack started acting more like how he had been with you when you first met. Still a little reserved, but definitely far from being the arrogant man you’d been told all about; and the one you had unfortunately felt the wrath of since your promotion. 

But now, each time you ran into each other, your behaviour towards one another was getting more courteous. Things might have been a little awkward at first, the two of you unable to even share glances at one another without burning up like some wild inferno; but as the sessions went on you began to slowly rebuild the trust and friendship that you had worked so hard to create in the first place. The two of you even began to laugh and joke with one another as you once did - a breakthrough, for sure. Tensions might still run high at times, but you were more confident than you once were that you would eventually be able to patch things up. 

Weeks turned into months, and one by one agents across Statesman began picking up various missions. You’d not had any mission particularly dangerous yet, albeit none of them without risk. But with each one your position as a senior agent was becoming more solidified within the company, and it was clear to everyone that you had well and truly earnt your place by now. With the help of Astrid and Tequila, the three of you had begun taking down an organised crime syndicate that had been shipping illegal bio-weapons into the country, some of which were planned to target figures in government itself. 

It was a huge achievement on a national level, but obviously Statesman were never credited for your hard work. Just as with your British counterparts, the newspaper headlines on the day of you taking down the leaders were utterly unrelated to the planned attacks, instead being more focused on the trivial celebrity marriage gossip of the day than anything negative happening. 

Nevertheless, on the day you returned to your office, you found a copy of the newspaper from the day you arrested the leader atop your desk. You smiled as you picked it up, heading to set it to one side to cut out and frame to put with the rest of your ‘headlines’, when a note caught your eye. 

“Good work, boss. Glad to have you back. J x” . 

Eight words, that’s all it was. But it was eight words closer to you and Jack repairing your relationship with each other, and right now you’d take anything that would bring you slightly closer. 

You kept the note too. 

~~~

A few days after your return to the Kentucky office, and there was a full debriefing being held across all agents to pass on intel you got to the rest of the organisation. It wasn’t unusual for crime families to work closely with other more nefarious gangs and operations, so anything you managed to get from them could potentially be useful to other agent’s missions. 

As with every briefing, the three of you on the mission presented your findings to all agents present, both physically and through the use of the augmented reality glasses. Of all the technology that you were exposed to as an agent, the glasses were probably the most surreal thing that you had to get your head around. Looking around the room and seeing figures appear before your very eyes as they tuned in and out of the meeting, depending on their own schedules, always left you feeling a little out of sorts. 

Or perhaps it was the dark stare you received from Jack at the other end of the conference table, who for some reason seemed to not be able to take his eyes off you today. 

Still, you persevered, and with Tequila and Astrid you delivered your findings with great success. Tequila patted you on the back as the three of you returned to your allocated seats, him having deliberately taken more of a back seat during that meeting to allow you more time to be able to lead it yourself. It was one thing you loathed about your new seniority - out in the field you could keep a level head and delegate accordingly, but for some reason the debriefing meetings always left you rife with anxiety. 

Or, again , perhaps it was the presence of a certain cowboy at the end of the table which was what had your skin crawling…

Champ had asked you to stay behind after this briefing, so as everyone began heading out the room and disengaging their augmented reality glasses, you stayed put. Champ cracked open a decanter of bourbon as he waited for the room to fall quiet from the sound of others leaving. You watched as he poured out two servings of the deep amber liquid, and you chuckled under your breath. There truly was no limit to how early in the day Champ deemed it appropriate to drink neat liquor. 

“What did you want to talk about, Champ?” you asked as he sauntered back towards the table, the glasses in his hand. He sat down and slid one over towards you, which you took with gentle fingers, pulling it towards yourself. 

“What do you think about having Agent Seltzer as your partner, now that you’re a senior, and fully settled into your new role?” Champ asked, slowly sitting back down in his seat before taking a swig of the drink. You stared into the abyss of your own liquor, contemplating if you would perhaps actually need a sip of it if this was to be the line of questioning. 

“Jack?” you queried.

“Yes,” Champ chuckled, it still a bit bizarre to hear the former senior agent called by anything other than Whiskey.

“That would be fine by me, Champ, but I do have to wonder how well he’d take our pairing,” you said, opting to take a small sip of the bourbon. It stung a little as it slid down your throat, and you tried your best to hide the grimace that came with that. For as much as you could tolerate a good whiskey, having it neat and so early in the morning was something you would never fully adjust to. 

“What makes you say that?” he asked, his brow furrowed. 

You scoffed under your breath - with all the work you’d done with Jack over the last few months, and with when you started at the company, you couldn’t believe that Champ still assumed you didn’t know anything about the former senior agent’s life with the company. That, and how he’d been acting to you these past few months. 

“Champ, I’m not dumb. I know what happened back in 2017; I did my research when I was a training agent. He’s also not taken my promotion too well. Training had been… difficult, for a while. We’re on the up now; or, at least, I think that we are…,” you cleared your throat, “but I think me now having his former moniker has soured our relationship, and I ain’t sure how well he’d take being paired with me now he’s signed off. He’s probably dying to see the back of me, Champ”. 

Champ shrugged nonchalantly, clearly unphased by the behaviour of Jack. Either it didn’t surprise him, or he expected something far worse to have come out of your mouth as a rebuttal. Either way, he dragged out another long sip from his glass as he mulled over what he said, before clearing his throat. 

“Well, actually , that’s the very reason I want to pair you both together. If he can handle working alongside you, and not freak out, then I’d like to think he’d be able to return to us properly. As it stands I don’t want to let him out on missions alone. He’s still…a liability ” Champ explained, still not entirely trusting of Jack. 

You, however, were having none of that. For all the issues the two of you were facing, you weren’t going to stand by and allow his hard work to be besmirched so casually. 

“With all due respect, sir, it’s been three years since you shut down Poppy and her gang. Has he not suffered enough?”. 

For all Jack’s flaws, and by God did he have them, you could never in good faith tarnish him with that same brush he was once painted with. The two of you might not currently be on the best terms, but you were never going to discredit him as the fantastic agent he was shaping up to becoming again. 

“Now I know I didn’t just hear you doubting me, Whiskey… ,” Champ retorted with a stern voice that almost had you forgetting your place. Straightening up in your seat, you cleared your throat, your grip on the glass of bourbon decidedly tighter than it was a few seconds before. 

“Not at all, sir. Whatever you say goes, I know that, and I’ll not object. I’m just offering an alternative viewpoint, that’s all,” you explained.

Champ nodded, glancing out of the window that overlooked the compound. You could almost hear the cogs in his head begin to whir as he contemplated the position he was in, whether to make this decision or not. 

“Alright. I’ll consider it, Whiskey. I’ve already run it by Jack anyway, just to put feelers out to see how he might react. Will you see him today?” he asked. You shook your head as you finished the last of your drink, but now you at least had an answer as to why Jack was glaring at you for the entirety of today’s meeting. It seemed like the two of you could never quite catch a break from one another, and now there might be a whole new level to this… 

“No, sir. He’s with Ginger this afternoon, having a physical rehab session.”

“He’s still going to those?” Champ asked, his brow furrowed and attention back on you. 

“Only once a month now. It’s more like a check up, to be honest,” you said, then mumbled, “gives him a break from me, too.”

Champ raised his eyebrow, but chose to not ask you to elaborate. He’d heard enough from Loretta, Ginger, Eve, and Astrid to understand that things were somewhat soured between the two of you. He hated seeing it, and part of him regretted the decision he’d made to hand his former moniker to you. It was nice to see Jack momentarily becoming a new man, one who embraced change and seemed to be finding joy in life again. Someone who was happy, and opening up to new people. 

But he squashed any doubt he had any time he heard about Jack’s antics. At the end of the day this was the only way to test Jack’s loyalty, and his ability to not crack under pressure. He was right - if Jack could be partnered with you and not lose himself, that was the first step to proving to the whole agency that he was truly a changed man. 

And right now, he wasn’t proving that. 

Jack

Jack sat in silence in the labs as he awaited Ginger to return. Numerous machines were ticking and beeping away around the room, making up their own choir of sorts, never giving anyone who worked in here a moment’s peace. He chuckled under his breath as he remembered back to earlier in the year, when he awoke in this room for the first time, and then spent a significant number of weeks on bed rest. He wondered then, with the sounds filling the room with ease, how he had ever managed to get any rest while he was holed up here. 

He screwed his eyes up and hissed, the painful memory of his awakening coming rushing back to him. It was the one thing that he tried to not dwell on too much, because each time he was reminded of being back here, he got given the uncomfortable reminder of the dream in which he lived the whole time he was asleep. 

His dream with Lela was something he still hadn’t mentioned to anyone. He wasn’t ashamed of her, or the fact that his unconscious mind took him back there. But he hadn’t seen her since, and for just a little longer he wanted to hold dear the one final memory he had with her that was his alone. He didn’t want a psychologist to unpack why he had gone to see her on the brink of death, nor did he want anyone else feeling sympathetic about the fact he so often wished he’d stayed there with her…

Maybe things would have been easier if I had stayed , he wondered. 

But then the sound of footsteps approaching snapped him back into the room, and Jack had to all but shake himself to come back to Earth. He inhaled sharply and turned to the sound, smiling softly when Ginger came into view, her clipboard in hand. 

“Alright, all tests done. You’re still fine,” Ginger said. 

“Thanks, Clara,” Jack said, sliding his jacket back on before moving to head out of the room. “Same time in a month?”.

“If Whiskey still thinks it’s necessary,” she said, smiling sweetly as she put his reports away. Jack scoffed. 

“Fuckin’ Whiskey ,” he mumbled. 

“Hey,” Clara snapped, “what’s with that fucking tone?”. 

If there was one thing Clara excelled at, it was making sure that any agent could still falter to the sound of her voice. She was so often underestimated by recruits as being “the one in the lab” or “ the techie” , but her piercing tone could shatter the composure of many agents. Jack was no exception. 

“Sorry,” he grumbled, feeling like a kid that had been scalded by his parents. His eyes stayed fixed to the floor, and Clara rolled her own eyes, scoffing as she came up to him. 

“Jack, I don’t get you . It’s been months since London got her promotion. When are you going to start being happy for her?!”. 

“Oh fuck off, Clara. You have no idea!” he said back, his voice teetering on the edge of a full blown yell. He wanted to give up this fight, to let you back in again and go back to some semblance of normality with you. Every bone in his body wanted to, and hoped he could get past this shit or both your sakes. Most days he thought back to your kisses, and he knew how badly he yearned for more. But there was still something holding him back…

“No, you’re right. I have no idea . So help me to fucking understand, Jack! Because I can’t be dealing with your whining anymore. She is the only person in this entire company who still gives a shit enough about you to keep trying. The rest of us are sick of you acting like a child about all this,” she said, her finger now outstretched and jabbing Jack dead centre of his chest. 

“Leave it alone, Clara. I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped. But Clara wasn’t budging. 

“No, I won’t leave it. I don’t understand; how is this any different to when I was Whiskey? Because you sure as hell didn’t treat me the way you’re treating her, and it’s not fair!”

Jack sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“It just…it just is different, okay?” he said. The realisation dawned on him that he might finally be in a position where he couldn’t get out of explaining his reasoning for why he was so hell bent on holding this against you. 

“Tell me how, Jack. Help me understand.”

Jack sighed and his shoulders dropped as he looked at Clara - his dark brown eyes glassy as tears of frustration began to well in them. If he were being honest, he’d shed a tear most nights since you had been promoted. Loretta could tell that there was something more serious amiss than normal, but in all this time he had never said anything to her, and had instead chosen to lock it away deep inside of him. 

But today, he unlocked that reason. 

“When I found out you got my moniker, I-,” he sighed, “it hurt, okay ? But I spent years denying you the right to be an agent. I figured it was my own fault, and it served me right to see you walk around with that name. A name that had been mine for nearly twenty years. But I made my peace with it, and I moved on,” he said, walking away so he could sit on the edge of one of the lab beds. He took in some deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Clara followed slowly, not interrupting though, sensing that he was building to the rationale she had been so intently trying to figure out. 

“But now, to see Champ just passing the title on like it’s nothing ? What has she done to earn that ?!” he said, anger lacing in his tone again. 

“Well, for one, she’s had to put up with your whiny ass a lot longer than any of us would have coped with,” Clara scoffed. 

“Shut the fuck up, Clara,” he said, a half jest. 

“I’m serious! She’s got the patience of a saint with you,” Clara came to sit next to him, “and through all of this, she hasn’t held anything against you. Even if it hurts her.”

Jack screwed his eyes up, frustrated at himself. He’d been so focused on ignoring you and sticking his head in the sand regarding you having his name, that he hadn’t for one second considered that his actions would have an impact on you. That you, for a moment, might actually be upset by what he was doing. 

He sighed solemnly, before accepting that it was now or never. He had to lay his cards out on the table to someone if he ever wanted to move past this. Clara had always been someone that he trusted with his life, and on more than one occasion he’d opened up to her about things nobody else, to this day, knew about. 

“Do you know why I was Whiskey, Clara? Have you ever stopped to ask that question?” he asked, his voice quieter now, and considerably softer. Like the words coming out hurt him, and he had to be careful how he said them. 

Clara shook her head. 

“Can’t say that I have, no. Figured it just made sense because you were one of the first senior agents, and given both the front of this company and Champ’s fondness of you, the title whiskey should be yours.”

Jack shook his head, burying his face in his hands. Clara turned on her seat and faced Jack, placing her hand on his knee, sensing that there was something a lot more going on than him being petty over just a name. 

“Jack? Tell me?” she said, so gently it was almost a whisper.  

Jack sniffled and inhaled sharply, like he was bracing himself to speak. Like the mere act was something so foreign to him now that he wasn’t sure if he knew how he was ever going to get these words out his mouth. But eventually, he looked up, turned to Clara, and began to explain. 

“The first batch of agents, me included, all got to choose our own monikers. Champ’s only requirement was that they were alcohol themed. We all thought it was hilarious, and even toyed with the idea of being named after cocktails,” he chuckled, looking up at Clara. 

“Who were the first agents?” she asked. She’d been with the company a long time, but not as long as Jack. Nobody had. 

“Myself, Vermouth, Absinthe, and Cointreau,” he smiled softly, “all of whom are dead now. Died in active duty not long before you started. Everyone I started with was gone in a blink of an eye”. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “So, how did you land on whiskey? Did you all help each other find your names?”. Jack shook his head. 

“Not really. We all had fun thinking of names, but ultimately we had to come to our own decisions. Champ was against me being called whiskey at first. Given my actual name, he didn’t want me to go for whiskey because he felt like I was mocking the position he’d put me in by going for something so obvious . But I had my own reasons, and once he understood them, he had no more questions.”

“What were they?” Clara asked. 

“Lela. The only reason I did anything for the last two decades was because of her,” he smiled to himself as he remembered his wife with fondness, his mind trailing off and all the anger from earlier being replaced with love and adoration. 

“Her and her father didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. She’d dated a few guys in high school before we got together, none of whom he approved of. I’d known their family since we were young kids though, and her old man would always tease her whenever I came over, saying how we should be the ones together,” he chuckled, a slight sombre tone beneath his words now though. 

“Blimey, you must have been a real charmer when you were young then. Whatever happened?” Clara teased, chuckling with him. 

“Shut up,” he grinned. “No, he liked me because I grew up in a very traditional family, and that impacted me a lot. Being teenagers in the 80’s, everyone our age was looking forward to the new world that was unfolding in front of us. I wasn’t against it, and clearly I’m not against the changes we saw that were a stark difference to how our folks grew up twenty years prior. But there was one thing I was still dead set on.”

“And that was?”

“I wanted the ‘ nuclear family ’, and so did Lela. I would have supported her in any type of career she wanted, of course. But I still wanted a wife, kids, and I wanted to do all that while we were young. Her father approved of me for that reason, and called me ‘ old fashioned ’ for upholding the same kind of tradition he was brought up with.” 

Jack paused for a moment, biting back tears at the memories. 

“You’d do alright with Daniels, you know. He’s a good kid, and not one of these daydreamers that you keep fancying the pants off. He’d give you a good life, Lela,” he’d overheard her father say one day. 

“I know, Pa, I really do. But he’s such a good friend, I doubt he’d see me that way,” Lela had said, breaking Jack’s heart to think that she had no idea how much he adored her. 

“Lela you’re as daft as your mother some days. That boy has been glued to your hip since y’all were ten, and he ain’t never put a foot wrong by you. I see how he looks at you, Lela. He’d make you a fine husband. A good, old fashioned, gentleman.”

“Us four went out for drinks the night before Champ’s deadline for our monikers. I instinctively ordered an old fashioned, and that’s when it clicked. I could honour her through the liquor that made the very cocktail her and her family would lovingly nickname me with. I told Champ that my reasoning went beyond just me sharing my name with a particular brand of the stuff, and he accepted it. And so, Whiskey was born.”

Clara’s eyes widened as she saw the pain and anguish in Jack’s face again as he relived losing his wife, and the life he had lost all those years ago. He didn’t really talk about Lela before the accident, and it was only rare that he brought her up now. Each time he did would take her by surprise. 

Hearing that Champ even considered giving out Whiskey to anyone else, given where the namesake originated from, lit a simmering anger in Clara. For a man who was always so fair and reasonable, this seemed to stoop so low for Champ’s standards. A pain tugged at her chest as she saw Jack trying desperately to hold his facade together. 

“I’m so sorry, Jack. I promise, if I’d have known, I’d have never taken your moniker,” she said, grasping his knee tighter. Jack smiled softly, placing his own hand over hers, and nodded. 

“I know, Clara. It isn’t your fault,” he said. 

“And it isn’t hers either, you know?” she said after a beat of silence, reminding him of the reason for this conversation in the first place. 

“...I know…I’ve been such a cunt,” he laughed through his nostrils, in disbelief almost that he’d let this go so far. 

“Jack, can I put a theory to you?” Clara asked, although it wasn’t really a question. 

“Sure,” he sighed. 

“Do you think there’s a part of you that doesn’t want her to be Whiskey, because it’s a senior title. And with a senior title comes more responsibility…and more danger. Perhaps this has got nothing to do with the name, really?” she asked, sensing that this still went beyond you having his former moniker. 

“What are you saying, Clara?” Jack asked, his brow knitted together. 

“You care about her. Everyone can see it, Jack. Everyone except you.”

The thing is, she was absolutely on the money. He did care about you, and greatly. And while there was initially some hatred brewing towards you since you got the name Whiskey, something he still deep down associated with himself, that soon got swept up in the wind. It didn’t matter really who had what moniker; at the end of the day, they were all just names anyway. 

But Clara had hit home the thing he’d been trying to bury for a long time. The fact he gave a shit about you made it increasingly difficult to accept you were now in a position where you’d be more at risk. After losing so much, the mere thought that he could potentially lose you now…it was unbearable. 

His anger had blinded him. 

“Maybe,” he said, voice cracking and quiet as he sat for a moment with the consequences of his actions. 

“Go see her, Jack. Sort this mess out. If not for your sake, for everyone else’s. Planning the work Christmas party is becoming a logistical nightmare while you two are stuck in this fucking domestic,” she chuckled. 

“Aren’t domestics usually reserved for couples ?” Jack laughed. 

“Couples, situationships, or agents and their training officers who make out on gymnasium floors…anything, really!” Clara said. She bit her lip to prevent a wide smile blossoming out onto her face while she was still uncertain how Jack would take the joke. But, to her delight, his mouth dropped open before being followed by a grin. 

“ How do you- Eve!” he cursed, then laughed along with her. 

“Nothing stays secret here for long. Not when it comes to you two,” Clara smirked. 

“It isn’t what it looks like!” Jack said, now hopping to his feet. 

“Oh yeah, what is it then?” Clara asked. 

It was then Jack realised that he had absolutely no idea. Your plans to talk things through fell out the window when anger had taken over every sense in his body that afternoon you got promoted. 

“I…I don’t know, actually,” he blushed, “we…we never talked about it”. 

“And who’s fault was that, then?”

“Mine,” he said sheepishly. 

“Well then,” Clara slid off the seat, “it looks like you two have a lot to catch up on. I suggest you run along, Jack”. 

You

“Is he still being cold with you?” Astrid asked, fiddling with one of your desk pens in her fingers. You nodded, finally setting down your own stationary to give yourself a proper break. Work had been so full on that you and Astrid had barely had a moment to talk between her missions and your training work. Even when the two of you were working together out in the field, you had to stay so focused on every detail of your mission that there was barely any down time. And the time you did get away from everything, you let Astrid prioritise her time with Tequila. The agents shouldn’t technically even be dating, but you were happy to keep your nose out of their business for as long as it didn’t compromise the mission. 

“He’s being a nightmare. And just when I thought the two of us might be free from each other’s shackles, Champ tells me today that he wants to consider officially partnering the two of us together. I mean, can you imagine? We’d kill each other,” you scoffed. 

“Oh, fuckin’ hell,” Astrid bit her lip, “still not spoken to him about the kiss then, I take it?”.

You sighed to yourself, shaking your head. As time passed you’d forced yourself to think less and less about that day in the gymnasium. And then the kiss that happened not long ago…

“No, we haven’t. Neither of them”. 

“Neither?! What have I missed?!” Astrid asked, now significantly more bolt upright in her chair. You sank back into yours, covering your face with your hand and grunting under your breath. 

“We kissed more recently, in a training session,” you admitted. For some reason it felt like some dirty little secret, akin to an affair, and honestly you weren’t sure why you never told Astrid. Aside from how fucking confused it left you, there was no harm in someone knowing the details, really. 

“How the hell did that happen?” she asked, her eyes wide and her body now leaning forward to rest on your desk. 

You dared to look up from the palm of your hands and couldn’t help but giggle as Astrid stared back at you with a wide grin, her demeanour totally changed within a second. She was impossible to not adore.  

And so, you told her. Every dirty little detail about that day, what he did, what had led up to it. You just about managed to feign off her short angry outbursts when you recited the words Jack had said to you that day, reminding her that you more than put him in his place thereafter with each training session that followed. 

“So you’ve not even acknowledged it?” she asked, her brow furrowed as you shook your head. “Jesus...no wonder you can currently cut the tension between you both with a knife”. 

You scoffed out a short laugh at that, because for as much as you’d tried to hide it, you knew she was right. Both of you were terrible at pretending that everything was alright, and you just had to thank your lucky stars that so far you hadn’t been paired with each other and someone else who would be able to call you out on it. 

You opened your mouth as if to speak, before a knock at your office door interrupted you both. Astrid furrowed her brow with you as she turned in her seat towards the dark oak paneling, as you asked whoever stood the other side to enter the room. 

The door cracked open, creaking on its hinges, and you made a note to get maintenance out at some point to check that over. You both watched as a strong hand wrapped around the door, and pushed forward into the office.  

“Hey,” Jack said timidly, only his head and shoulder sticking around your door. “Is now a good- oh . Hey, Astrid…” he said, cowering slightly. 

“Hello, Jack ,” she sneered, and you had to stop yourself from laughing at her biting back at him. 

“Sorry, I’ll come back later,” Jack said, feeling unwelcome in your office. 

Astrid looked to you for confirmation, sensing the switch in his demeanour versus what she had seen in him these past few months. You nodded to her as a signal. 

“Jack, stop,” Astrid cut in, making him pause and look back towards you, “I was just heading out anyway”. 

“Oh, no, I- you didn’t have to-,” he stammered as he stepped into the office cautiously, watching as Astrid stood from her seat and strode across the room. She approached him and got on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear; 

“This best be a fucking apology, Seltzer,” she said, her words laced with anger that he undoubtedly deserved after how he had treated her friend, and with a nervous gulp, he nodded. 

“Yes, ma’am. See you soon, Astrid”. 

Astrid grinned up at Jack and then turned to you, giving you a little wave before heading out the door. You chuckled to yourself at her, before turning your attention to Jack, and sitting back in your seat. He still stood rigid and fixed to the ground, seemingly unable to move. 

“Jack,” you smiled sweetly, maintaining the professionalism you’d had to plaster on your face ever since your falling out, “What can I do for you?”. 

“Well, I- it’s not what you can do for me , actually. But rather what I can do for you ,” he explained, slowly approaching your desk.. 

“Oh yeah? And what’s that then?” you said. 

“An apology. And a fuckin’ good one, at that,” he said. You smiled taut at the older man, before crossing your arms across your chest.  

“I’m listening”. 

Jack approached your desk and tentatively took the seat across from you. He leant forward in the seat and clasped his hands together, a grounding trick that Loretta had taught him, and took a few deep breaths before looking up at you. 

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting with you recently, London. You never deserved the way I’ve been treating you, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my days trying to make it up to you. I feel you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot recently, and that is all entirely my fault. I ain’t handled your promotion well, despite the fact you’ve been nothing but wonderful to me this entire time,” Jack said. “And I wanna make right by you.”

“And how do you intend to do that?” you asked. 

“How about I take you out for dinner? It ain’t much, but I feel like you and I would very much benefit from getting out of this place and wiping the slate clean,” Jack said, a watery smile on his face. . 

You smiled at him as you mulled over your options - on the one hand you weren’t sure that jumping straight into going out to dinner with Jack was entirely wise, given how you hadn’t even still acknowledged your kisses. But on the other hand, perhaps he was right. Maybe the thing you needed to be able to have these conversations would be to go out, get away from the Statesman grounds, and leave it all behind for an evening. Forget your lives here, and for one night just be two friends catching up. Try and make amends, and patch up what had undoubtedly been broken. 

After a moment of deciding, you nodded, and watched as a wide smile broke out on Jack’s face. 

“Sure, Jack, that sounds nice. How does this Friday sound?” you asked. 

“Works for me, sugar!” he said, and you grinned at the pet name, now something all too unfamiliar to your ears. How you’d missed it…

“Six o’clock in the evening alright for you?” he asked. 

“Don’t be late, Jacky,” you said, winking at him as he stood from his seat. He laughed through his nose at you, then tipped his stetson towards you with the tip of his middle and forefinger. 

“Never, m’lady. I ain’t fucking up with you again in a hurry.” 

Series Masterlist | A03 Link | Tumblr Masterlist

[thenightling]

A bigot demanded I tell him what's so good about Agatha All Along without mentioning representation and diversity so... Here we go...

1. It has an intriguing plot with a morally grey protagonist who may or may not be on a subtle redemption arc. I'm a sucker for a good redemption story.

2. It features very talented actors including the Tony award winning Broadway icon, Patti LuPone as one of the leads.

3. It features fairly accurate and respectful depictions of many Occult beliefs.

4. "Teen" is a very likable sidekick character and serves as a good moral compass for many of the other characters.

5. It has good music and a catchy recurring song from the composers of Avenue Q and Frozen, including a cover by the main cast in the style of Glam Rock.

6. It's better than WandaVision.

7. It's entertaining.

8. It's one of the only MCU depictions of supernatural magick while allowing it to actually be magick instead of pseudo-science and while also acknowledging an afterlife instead of pandering to the Chinese censors to get a Chinese theatrical release. The Chinese market doesn't allow for "Western depictions of the afterlife." (This includes ghosts. It's why the Disney Haunted Mansion in Hong Kong Disney isn't haunted but instead has enchanted furniture).

9. This was the first time we had ghosts in a Marvel property. Same reason as number 8.

10. It's refreshingly different from other other Marvel releases that have been following and obvious and tired formula for some time now.

11. Kathryn Hahn is a good actress.

12. It has a great, Gothic / spooky ambiance while also being fun. 13. It's the side of Marvel I get starved for because Marvel is too cowardly to have things like this outside of the Halloween season.

14. It has "Found Family" which is one of my favorite TV and movie tropes.

15. It's not all boring action sequences or sex scenes like most TV today. And yes, I find those things boring.

16. I had once said I wanted to see a TV show based on the concept of "Gothic Golden Girls" with witch Golden Girls and this is close enough. 17. I think Agatha, as a character, is well-written.

18. With other shows like Wednesday this has helped restore Goth Culture to the mainstream, enough so that there's a Goth clothing section on Target's website now (and has been for a full year). So I'm loving the influence on Pop culture.

19. This may open the door for more supernatural content from Marvel, I just hope they start allowing it outside of the Halloween season.

20. I'm not really enjoying many other new scripted TV shows right now. Both The Sandman and Wednesday are currently between seasons.

[detectivestucks]

The Anbu Captain Masterlist

Pairing: Anbu Kakashi x F!Reader

Warnings: NSFW series, canon violence, unprotected penetration, nipple play, anal play, dom kink, pet play, sex toy usage, choking, spanking, biting

Chapter 1

You were headed home from the bookstore when you accidentally bump into the cold and closed off Anbu solider, Kakashi. He becomes fascinated by you and breaks into your home. (w/c 1.7k)

Chapter 2

The mysterious Kakashi pays you a visit after finally returning from his mission to use and abuse you in the best way. (w/c 1.9k)

Chapter 3

Kakashi, up to his usual mischief pays you a visit at your office where things get heated before your coworker shows up. (w/c 1.9k)

Chapter 4

You go on the date with your coworker, Akio, only for a jealous Kakashi to crash it. He not-so-gently reminds you who you belong to. (w/c 3.2k)

Chapter 5

It had been a month since Kakashi made you chose him and you are starting to doubt your decision when he once more invites himself over to your place to remind you why you gave up a healthy relationship for him. (w/c 2.7k)

Chapter 6

You wake up next to Kakashi however he hasn't forgiven you for your theatrics last night and makes sure to punish you appropriately. (w/c 2.3k)

Chapter 7

Kakashi comes home after his mission in the Hidden Stone and surprises you with a gift that he fully intends on making your regret wearing so willingly. (w/c 3.3k)

Chapter 8

Kakashi finally has a full day off and he spends it taking you on a proper date. (w/c 5.5k)

Chapter 9

After your walk of shame through the village, things get steamy while you figure out how to spend you last few hours before Kakashi's next mission. (w/c 3.3k)

Chapter 10

Kakashi has the week off before a very long mission. He makes the most of his time with you and it is the most magical week of your life. (w/c 4.6k)

Chapter 11

You fill your days while Kakashi is away on his longest mission yet. When he comes home he plays a little game with you and you discover he's been keeping a secret. (w/c 8.5k)

Chapter 12

Kakashi hesitates in battle and it has him reevaluating your relationship. Meanwhile Akio reenters the picture. (w/c 6.4k)

Chapter 13 & Epilogue

Akio reevaluates his situation with you causing you and Kakashi to have an argument. Lord Hiruzen summons him giving him unexpected news. (w/c 6.2k)

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock in Four Months Part 11

Part One Part 10 Part Twelve Link to Ao3

Alrighty guys I want you all to thank @stevethehairington for betaing this and making it fantastic, @henderdads for making the poll that made me finally finish writing this, and @steveshairychest for being a furry lmaooo (Sorry I had to)

Also I know you guys reallllly aren't going to want to hear this, but I wanted to put out one more chapter before I let you know that HTRAJ is going on a hiatus. Not a long one! I just have way too many WIPs going right now, and two of them are Valentines gifts (and good reads if I do say so myself!)

Step Eleven: Play Some Music

“Steve gets shotgun,” Eddie called as they exited the trailer, tossing Steve a smile that made his chest feel fuzzy as he jumped down the last two steps. 

“What the hell man?” Jeff grumbled, looking slightly put out, “We take turns,” 

Steve opened his mouth to say he didn’t mind and he would take sitting in the back, but Eddie pushed him towards the van with ease. 

“Steve’s never been inside of Hortensia, he deserves to see her at her absolute best,” He reasoned, giving Jeff a big megawatt smile and waiting to see what he would say. He still didn’t seem thrilled, but Jeff just rolled his eyes and climbed into the backseat. 

Steve would have made a comment on the fact that Eddie had named his beat up clunker ‘Hortensia’ of all things, but it was just so Eddie that all he could do was smile and shake his head. That was classic Eddie, always seeing the good, always finding something to make better. A trashy white van was Hortensia, an ex-jock was a potential friend. 

It was his superpower, almost as strong as El’s. 

“Your ride, my liege,” Eddie said, opening the passenger side theatrically. Steve rolled his eyes and climbed in, buckling his seatbelt as Eddie jumped into the drivers side seat and flourished his keys. 

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Eddie declared, turning the ignition. 

Nothing. 

Another attempt. The van gave a low grumble but did nothing. 

“Damn hunk of junk, piece of shit, mother-”

“Hortensia, huh?” Steve said with a raised brow, interrupting Eddie’s tirade of angry muttering. He threw Steve a slightly dirty look, staring at him directly in the eye as he tried the ignition again. 

Bingo. The van roared to life, headlights instantly taking the empty blackness around the trailer and filling it with trees. The entire group cheered as Eddie victoriously beeped the horn, and Steve opened his mouth to say some stupid comment that would probably make everyone laugh. 

Then the headlights flickered. 

In a single moment the ease, the happiness, it was just gone. Like a fire in dry brush, it had disappeared, and all that was left was a quick panicky feeling that there was something watching them, something waiting nearby. 

He needed his bat. 

“What the hell- Woah, what’re you doing?!” Eddie demanded as Steve shoved his way out of the car, walking over to his Beemer. He had already gotten his backpack out and was rifling through it by the time Eddie snuck up on him. 

“Steve?” Eddie asked softly. 

Eddie was out of the van. He was vulnerable. If something was sneaking up on them, then he would be the first one down.

Steve moved quickly, spinning the two of them so Eddie was up against his car, and Steve was out in front of him. That was better. He didn’t have a weapon, but he knew how to fight these things. At the very least, Eddie would have the time to run to the van if things went bad. 

“Do you see anything?” Steve asked, looking around them. 

The lights had only flickered once, just once, but once was enough. Once was a warning, and ignoring that would be stupid. 

That was Hopper’s number one rule. Don’t be Stupid. 

“What should I be seeing? A boogeyman?” Eddie teased, standing up straight and walking over to Steve, “You think I’m gonna see a were-”

“Eddie,” Steve cut him off with a severe look, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and pulling him behind him again, “Do you see anything?”

“No,” Eddie murmured after a moment. Steve spared a quick glance behind him, faltering when he saw just how uneasy Eddie was. 

“There’s…Steve there’s nothing out there,” 

Nothing out there. The lights were clear, they had been the entire time, and there was no growling, no sound of strange steps creeping up. Just the purr of a rusty engine, and the sound of Steve’s blood racing in his ears. 

Eddie was right. There was nothing out there. 

A rush of humiliation barreled over Steve, erasing everything else. He let out a slow shaking breath, running a hand over his face and hating the way his eyes were starting to burn. 

A few lights acting funny and he turned into this? Over lights? 

“Are you-”

“I’m fine,” Steve whispered, the lie strikingly obvious to both of them, “Just-”

Steve reached around Eddie and grabbed his backpack off of the ground, hefting it up over one shoulder and turning back to the van. 

“I have what I need. Let’s go,” Steve said, closing the door before Eddie could ask him again if he was okay. 

Flashlight, walkie-talkie, car keys, first aid kit, knife. 

Flashlight, walkie-talkie, car keys, first aid kid, knife. 

Flashlight-

What was he doing? 

Steve forced an exhale, pushing all of the air out of his lungs, letting the deafening chatter from the car around sink back in, and finally releasing the death grip he had on his bag. 

The backpack that had his flashlight, walkie-talkie, car keys, first aid kit, and knife. Everything he could carry inconspicuously in case of an emergency. His knife wasn’t ideal, but better than nothing. Steve would have loved to have Baby with him too, but she had to stay in the trunk of the Beemer. The last thing he needed was everyone to know how actually insane he was now, and carrying around a bat full of nails was a one way ticket to the loony bin.  

Maybe he should ask Nancy to teach him how to shoot a gun. A pistol was easily hidden, and-

Jesus. There really was something wrong with him. 

This was fun. Steve was supposed to be having fun. It was just a nice normal night with nice normal friends. The gates were closed, the kids were all together having a sleepover at the Wheeler’s, everything was just fine. 

So why was his stomach still twisted up in knots? Why was he obsessively looking out the window at the trees, just to make sure nothing was running alongside the van?

“What do you think, Steve?” Eddie asked, thrusting Steve back into the conversation happening all around him. The bumping bass from the radio was gone, and the rest of the group was now staring at him, waiting for an answer. 

Shit. 

Steve curled his hand around the strap of his backpack again, shrugging and giving Eddie a tight lipped smile, hoping that would be at least a somewhat adequate answer. Judging by Eddie’s furrowed brow and downturned mouth, it wasn’t. 

Flashlight. Walkie-Talkie. Car Keys. First Aid Kit. Knife. Flashlight. Walkie-Talkie. Car Keys. First Aid Kit. Knife. 

“He probably hasn’t listened to either of them yet,” Jeff cut in, tapping his chin. 

Oh. They were still talking about bands. Steve probably couldn’t have answered that question even if he had been listening instead of quietly freaking out. 

“You can tell us which was your favorite after the show,” Frank said, making eye contact with Steve from the rearview mirror and giving him an easygoing smile. Steve returned it, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease up ever so slightly. 

Frank was a cool guy. Understated, but nice. He always kind of hung around in the back, but that was fine. In a group like Hellfire with so many big personalities, having a steady person like Frank helped to balance everything out. 

“I still think he would like Black Sabbath best,” Jeff said, settling back in his seat. 

“Of course you think that,” Gareth replied with a roll of his eyes, pausing for a minute before crossing his arms and continuing in a begrudging tone, “Quiet Riot. Everyone can appreciate them. Even Steve.”

It wasn’t exactly an insult, so Steve decided to let go of any part of him that bristled at Gareth’s words. Gareth was a lot like Mike, it took him time to warm up. It was just…taking a bit longer than Steve had expected it to. 

Whatever. He liked a good challenge. 

“Trust me, we’ll play a song from the new Dio album and Steve’ll be a total convert,” Eddie said, shooting Steve a bright smile that warmed him from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. “We’ll have to get you a battle vest to match mine soon enough,” 

Without really thinking about it, Steve let go of his bag and reached up to play with the guitar pick hanging around his neck. Even just touching it was enough to ease away whatever nerves were still rolling around his body. 

It wasn’t like he was magically some different person, but wearing Eddie’s clothes and having his necklace was… it was almost like there was a shield. They were a buffer, a barrier between Steve and the fear that seemed to rule over everything he did nowadays. Here he wasn’t the babysitter or the protector. He was the new kid, someone who was still learning and allowed to slip up. If he didn’t know something, then it wasn’t the end of the world. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Eddie asked, staying quiet so the other three who were still debating wouldn’t hear him. 

“Yeah,” Steve replied immediately, squeezing his fingers around the chain and taking a slow deep breath, “better now,” 

“If you wanna talk, I’m always here,” Eddie whispered back, giving Steve one more soft glance before turning his eyes back to the road. Steve sighed, dropping his hands back to his lap and letting his head rest against the seatbelt, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see the forest around them. 

The thing was, Steve knew he wanted to talk to Eddie. He wanted to tell him that Dustin had left at 4 o’clock today, and Steve had been late because he was nervous about coming tonight. He wanted to tell Eddie that he was worried about fitting in, worried about letting his guard down, worried about the endless ‘what-if's' that seemed to run around in his mind in an endless loop these days. Eddie would listen, and even if he didn’t understand, he would empathize. 

Steve wanted to, but he couldn’t. 

Because Eddie was understanding, but he was also so so nosey. He would poke and prod and try to learn the whole story, because he wouldn’t be able to help himself, and Steve couldn’t handle that. If that happened, Steve would have to pull back, put distance between them. Not only to protect himself and his people, but to protect Eddie too. 

Steve had seen what happened to people who got pulled into their world. 

Bob was what happened. 

And even the thought of something like that happening to Eddie made Steve’s heart race. He reached up to touch the guitar pick again just to ground himself in the moment. 

It was fine. Nothing was going to happen to Eddie. Nothing was going to happen to any of them. Steve wouldn’t let anything ever happen to any of them. 

“Alright freeloaders, we’re here!” Eddie crowed, and Steve opened his eyes just as they pulled into the parking lot of a dingy looking hovel. 

The place looked about two steps from being closed for a health code violation, and Steve was instantly reminded that his mom had made him promise to never get within a thousand feet of the Hideout. It was apparently a bar for ‘other’ kinds of people. Mechanics and factory workers and cashiers. Not Harringtons. 

But here he was, right outside, and the world hadn’t caved in. Imagine that. Steve laughed quietly to himself, getting out of the van and coming around to the back with the rest. 

“‘Sup douchebags!” A voice called from across the parking lot. 

Rocky and Janet were walking over, both decked out in their metal best. Rocky was wearing the same spiked vest he wore every day, but he had chosen a pair of jeans to go with it that was more chain than denim, a look that would have gotten him sent straight to detention if he so much as stepped onto the parking lot of the school wearing it. Janet was wearing her usual attire, but her hair was up in a messy bun complete with deep dark eyeliner and a skull patterned choker. 

“Hey asshole,” Gareth replied, slapping Rocky’s hand against his own and opening the van door, “Help us with set up?” 

As they began to coordinate getting all of the stuff out of the van, Janet skipped over to Frank to chat. 

“I thought you weren’t allowed to come out tonight,” Frank said, rubbing his arm and giving her a timid smile. 

“I wasn’t. As far as my parents know I’m asleep in bed right now,” She replied, giving Frank a mischievous little grin as she kissed him quickly on the cheek, turning around before she could see the way the boy immediately turned into a tomato. 

“Hi Steve. I like the new look. You should wear it to school when we go back. Start 1985 off with a bang,” Janet said in her normal slightly snarky tone. 

“Hi Janet,” Steve said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and ducking his head down to hide the stupid grin on his face as she came over to inspect him, pointing out various add-ons he could have made to get the ‘true full metal experience’. 

This was the thing he had been searching for. Blissful normalcy with dumb conversations and stupid lighthearted jabs. Something easy that wasn’t bogged down in reality. 

“Hup two, guys. We’re already late,” Eddie huffed, pulling on an amp that was far too big for him to hold up on his own. 

“And who’s fault is that?” Jeff said with a roll of his eyes, quickly stepping in to take the other side of the equipment and gently easing it out of the van. Steve grabbed a random box and hefted it up, walking towards the door with Janet hot on his heels, still examining his new outfit. 

“Is that Eddie’s necklace?” She blurted out the second she spotted the dark red swirls, her jaw dropping open comically wide as she stared at it with huge eyes. 

“Someone decided to play Heavy Metal Barbie with pretty boy right before we were supposed to leave,” Gareth grunted, accidentally smacking Rocky with one of his drums as he stepped out of the van.

“Okay! Let’s just get moving, please!” Eddie quickly shouted in an uncharacteristically high pitched voice, practically dragging Jeff as he hurried into the bar. 

If Steve wanted to let himself over examine things, then he would have dared to say that Eddie was blushing. Instead of assessing that particular thought, he grabbed the door and held it open for the rest. 

With all seven of them working, set up went quickly, and before too long there were only a few things left to get. 

“I’ll grab them so you can start tuning or whatever,” Steve offered. 

“I’ll go with you,” Rocky said, pulling Steve out of the bar.  

“You know, I can’t believe he let you wear his lucky pick,” Rocky said the second they were alone outside, pitching his voice low even though there was no one to overhear them. “He doesn’t even let anyone else touch it, let alone wear it. ” 

This was enough to stop Steve in his tracks, his eyes darting down to the little piece of plastic around his neck.

No one else was even allowed to touch it? 

The necklace was already sentimental enough when it was just Eddie’s favorite. Now it was something precious, a treasure that wasn’t meant for any other person. Steve had been joking about Eddie staking a claim on him before, but the guitar pick practically felt like a brand at this point. 

The startling thing was just how much Steve didn’t mind. 

It was the same as ‘Sweetheart’. This was another thing that guys weren’t supposed to do for other guys, another thing that Steve shouldn’t want. He should be taking it off right now, handing it back to Eddie and going home back to the life he belonged in. 

None of this was right. Steve shouldn’t be here at a bar meant for people who were supposedly below him, he shouldn’t be dressed up like a metalhead going to listen to thrashing loud music in the middle of the night, and he certainly shouldn’t be happy Eddie Munson was having him wear something he wouldn’t even let anyone else even touch. 

This wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. This wasn’t who Steve was supposed to be. 

But was anything the way it was meant to be anymore? 

There were monsters from other dimensions and little girls who could move things with their minds. There were government cover ups, evil scientists, and dead people all over the place. 

No, nothing was how it was supposed to be anymore. At least this was a change that made Steve happy. He didn’t need to think about that too much, or try to figure out why. 

At least, he didn’t need to yet. 

“Well…maybe he just thought I could use some good luck tonight,” Steve murmured, reaching up and letting his fingers rest against the necklace for a moment before grabbing one last amp and walking back into the bar. He put it down gently on the floor of the ‘stage’ (It was a rickety wooden platform that was barely a feet off the ground, but Eddie had called it a stage), fully intending to turn right around and go back to the car to get his backpack. 

“That was the last of it, Sweetheart,” Eddie called from behind, making Steve stop short, “Rocky and Jan grabbed the best table in the house for you guys. It’s far enough that the drunks won’t hurl on you if they end up having a little bit too much. ” 

“Oh um,” Steve’s mind flitted around as he looked for any excuse he could use, “I…left my wallet in the van,” 

Steve crossed his fingers, praying that Eddie wouldn’t call out the very obvious wallet shaped lump in his right pants pocket. 

“You won’t need it,” Eddie said smoothly, hopping down and steering Steve gently towards the table with their friends, “The barkeep knows to keep my people fed and watered. Just let him know you’re here with me, or better yet, make Rocky do all the heavy lifting. He is a freshman after all, he has to take his licks.” 

That would be great if Steve was actually worried about his wallet. He wasn’t. He needed his flashlight, walkie-talkie, car keys, first aid kit, and knife. He needed to be prepared in case things went wrong. 

He needed those things, but he couldn’t explain to Eddie why, and he couldn’t walk out right now without looking like he was trying to ditch. Steve’s breathing started to kick up, and he could feel his heart leaping in his chest. 

They weren’t safe right now. Anything could happen, and he wasn’t prepared. Anything could go wrong, and- 

“Relax,” Eddie said slowly as they reached the table, pulling out a stool and nudging Steve towards it, “No one’s gonna bite,” 

“I will,” Rocky immediately replied, baring his teeth just for show. 

“Okay well don’t sit too close to him, and you’ll be just fine,” Eddie laughed, the other two Hellfire members snickering alongside him. This was where Steve should laugh with them too, but his throat was closing up. 

He was in a place he didn’t know, with a group who he didn’t really know, without anything to defend himself or keep in touch with his people. 

This wasn’t safe. Steve wasn’t safe right now. 

A soft touch on his arm startled him and he jumped back. Or he would have, if Eddie hadn’t held on and kept him from moving and crashing into the table. Steve stiffened up, looking up at Eddie knowing that he wasn’t doing a damn thing to hide how freaked out he had become. 

He couldn’t care about that. He couldn't care about anything except how dangerous everything had suddenly become. 

“Seriously. Everything’s okay. I promise,” Eddie whispered, leaning in so their heads were close together. Steve closed his eyes, taking a deep breath the way Joyce had shown him. In for four, hold for four, out for four. 

Usually it didn’t do anything for him, breathing slowly normally only made him even more aware of how little air there was in the room, but the breathing combined with Eddie’s hand still on his arm was enough to get Steve centered again. 

Everything was okay. The kids were safe, Nancy and Jonathan were safe, Hopper and Joyce were safe. 

Steve was safe. 

He was out with friends doing something fun, and there was nothing wrong with that. This was normal. This was what he was working towards. All he wanted was something easy, and this was easy. He didn’t have to make things complicated by being afraid. 

And, if anything went wrong, he could just run outside and get his things. 

“Thanks,” Steve whispered.

“Anytime,” Eddie whispered back, his big dark eyes locked on Steve’s. Once again Steve was completely aware of the guitar pick around his neck, and the fact that no one else was even allowed to touch it. 

“Eddie! Seriously! Tick fucking tock!” Frank shouted from the ‘stage’. Eddie growled quietly, muttering to himself about evil bandmates who had no sense of boundaries. Steve snorted, chuckling softly until Eddie stopped grumbling.  

“Have a good show,” Steve said, pulling away from Eddie and hopping up onto the stool. 

“Prepare to have your world rocked,” Eddie said, trying to act cool as he walked backwards, but tripping on the world’s tiniest step and falling flat on his ass on the stage. 

Steve made a valiant attempt to not laugh along with the rest of the bar, but he quickly failed, tossing his head back and laughing loudly, putting a hand on his chest and feeling the hard plastic against his fingertips. Eddie paused, giving Steve an indescribable look before straightening up and brushing away the invisible dirt from his vest. 

“And with that incredibly suave move, I’d like to formally introduce our band to the dozen or so drunks that are here tonight,” Eddie said into the mic, spreading his arms out wide like he would at Hellfire. The meager crowd yelled back and raised their drinks, making Eddie put on an absolutely feral grin

“Ladies and gentleworms, we are Corroded Coffin,” 

Much like Dungeons and Dragons, Steve hadn’t really expected that he would enjoy the show. He liked Eddie and he enjoyed the rest of the group, so he figured he would come and watch and be a good sport. 

And, much like Dungeons and Dragons, he was completely wrong. 

It wasn’t his favorite genre of music by any means, but the energy in the air was absolutely enthralling. From the first note there was just this push, this indescribable palpable movement in the air that was exhilarating while also being settling. It was like they were collectively experiencing something special, and all having a grand old time while doing it. 

It didn’t hurt that he was also about four whiskey sours in.

He had only planned to drink one, maybe two, but every time his glass was empty another magically appeared by his arm, courtesy of Rocky and Janet. He had tried to turn them down a few times, but they could be awfully persuasive when they wanted to be, and Steve couldn’t help hoping that the alcohol might clear up the last bit of the panic that was still rolling around in his head.

So with a warm fire in his belly and a brain that was finally for once quieting down, he happily listened as Janet and Rocky screamed the lyrics right alongside Eddie and the rest. He couldn’t really understand, per say, but the energy was all that mattered. 

And then, halfway into their set, everything fell apart. 

“Alright, everyone,” Eddie said as they caught their breath from an original that left everyone slapping their tables and stomping their feet, “It’s time to settle a bet.”

He turned to face Steve dead on, a gleam in his eyes that had nothing to do with the low light of the bar. 

“We have, let’s call him a…metal virgin, with us tonight,” Eddie drawled, letting the crowd hoot and holler as they pleased. There was less than two dozen people in the bar with them, and there was no way any of them besides Hellfire knew that Eddie was talking about Steve, but he still felt like every eye in the room had just turned to him. 

“Earlier tonight the band and I were trying to figure out who would make him a convert. Black Sabbath, Quiet Riot, Metallica. I said Dio, because I think this song is right up his alley. So, this one’s for you,” 

Steve’s heart began to race in a completely brand new way as Eddie began shredding down on his guitar, joined by Gareth with an impressively quick beat on the drums. 

The song was good. It was fast-paced, lively, and Steve could actually follow along with the lyrics unlike some of the more intense songs from before. Eddie had hit it exactly. The song was just another example of Eddie knowing him even more than Steve expected him to. 

It was so good in fact, that Steve almost didn’t notice the lights behind the bar begin to flicker. 

Almost. 

Steve’s hands began to shake as his eyes darted around, looking at all of the walls. The other lights were also flickering, but the walls were still straight and narrow. No bending. No monsters. 

Not yet. 

Or not here. 

Steve’s heart dropped as reality slapped him square across the face. If the lights were flickering, but there was no sign of any monsters, then they were close, but not here. They could be anywhere, going after anyone. 

Going after one of his people. 

Steve stumbled off the stool, catching Janet and Rocky’s attention as he nearly toppled to the ground. 

“Steve! Are you okay?!” Janet yelled above the noise. 

No, he wasn’t okay. He was a stupid fool in fact. A complete idiot who had honestly let himself believe that the danger was gone when he knew it wasn’t. 

“I- I need to-” Steve couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t make his breath even enough to find the words for what he needed. 

He needed his bat. He needed his backpack. He needed to get in touch with Hopper. He needed to get out of here. 

He needed to find his kids. 

And then, just as Eddie hit one last screeching solo note on his guitar, everything went dark. 

Tag List: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name @minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

[thalialunacy]

[for @calaisreno's May prompts challenge, because the idea of writing fun tidbits with no expectations or, you know, plot sounds really great 😅]

1: open (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

'Magic?' John asks, only slightly incredulously, as he puts the shopping down on the kitchen table.

'No,' Sherlock replies, holding up one hand, fist closed, so Rosie, perched on her booster seat, can grab it. 'A study in object permanence.'

'Which she already has.'

'She's keen on the sleight of hand,' Sherlock amends dismissively.

John's mouth quirks up fondly, but he pushes it down. 'She's easily impressed.'

'Nonsense. I am very impressive.' He leans down as if to whisper to her, mouth opening on a theatrical gasp. 'What are the magic words, Rosamund?'

John snorts. 'Abra cadabra?'

Sherlock spares him one glance, then makes his Behold My Genius face at Rosie again. He points to his closed fist with his other hand. 'Open… sesame!'

Rosie's shrieking giggle explodes as several red bouncy balls leap out of Sherlock's hand.

'Open sesame?' John asks, curious. 'Isn't that -- what's the word for profiting off somebody else's culture?'

'Appropriative, I believe is the word you're thinking of.'

'Sure, yeah, that. Isn't it that?'

'Depends on who you ask.'

John rolls his eyes. 'Yes, thank you, history is not for the simple, I know. Are you making excuses because you don't know the answer?'

'Absolutely not,' Sherlock says indignantly. 'As far as we know, the phrase is of western origin, penned by a Frenchman telling the story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. He likely made it up.'

'So it's only slightly racist.'

'Quite. In fact--'

He's interrupted by a red ball bonking him on the forehead and a loud 'Yeah!' from one little girl.

'Rosie,' John tries to scold, picking up said ball and holding it out to Sherlock. 'We don't throw things unless invited.' Arguably he's saying it to both of them.

And for good reason. 'Well done, Rosamund,' Sherlock says contradictorily, reaching for what John's holding--

Only to have it disappear into thin air, then reappear from behind Rosie's ear.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow. 'Very good, John.'

John clears his throat, tucks the ball into his pocket, and turns to start on the shopping. 'Yes, well, these hands still have some talents,' he says, hiding his grin.

As you well know, Mr Holmes.

[❤️]

[stephaniereddit]

Leonardo Hamato is here!

Tap for better quality)) 😉

Basic data:

• 18 years old

• 188 cm / 6'2 ft

• red eared slider / human (mutant)

A bit of headcanon:

1. Leo's nickname is Jinko (Japanese for "male were-fox"). But more often his enemies simply call him Blue Dog or Laughing Jinko— he often uses his theatrical talent to intimidate his opponents, in particular, by laughing ominously.

2. He is a month older than Donnie.

3. He wears a compression knee brace. In the battle with Krang Prime, not only his shell, but also his right leg was especially badly damaged.

4. He carries katanas not behind his back, but on his side.

5. Leo has the most curved claws among his brothers. So he scratches very painfully and strongly. This shape of the claws also helps him climb and sprint (then the claws act like spikes on the shoes of runners).

6. The webbing on his hands and feet only extends to the middle of his fingers.

7. Leo LOVES flowers. He even begged Donnie to equip him with a separate room exclusively for indoor plants. If he's not on a mission, watching something with his brothers, or working out, he's probably busy with his photosynthetic charges) 🌺💐

8. Leo is good not only at basketball - he basically loves to kick the ball, regardless of the sport. In addition to basketball, he especially highlights football.

9. This guy is definitely not the leader of the team. Yes, he can gather and organize his brothers, but he prefers the role of strategist.

10. "My plans for the evening — stuffed unicorn, Chinese food and a TV series. I'll go, bye"

11. He is able to spend hours in the bathroom, creating beauty.

12. His knees are always full of fresh abrasions because he constantly “slides” on them on the floor.

13. Leo is a polyglot. In addition to his native English and “turtle” (chirp-chirp language), he knows sign language, Spanish, French, partially Japanese, and a couple of phrases in Russian, Portuguese, Greek and others.

[aethon-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 13 ❄️

@hprecfest daily prompts running through Dec 31. Goal is to find lesser-known or underrated works, even by well-known authors, to feature here.

*

Day 13: A Fic >100k Words

One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 165k, WIP)

Summary: A decade after the final battle, a serial killer emerges, with a message that proclaims the Dark Lord has risen again. Harry is assigned to the case. Why I rec it for this prompt: Casefic is a very underrated genre for the Tomarrymort ship, and Asenora absolutely delivers in this case, with a richly layered and complex murder mystery, as well as the beautiful unfolding of a tenuous working relationship between Harry and Voldemort and all the steamy tension that builds up in between them.

if we were lovers by @reggieblk (E, 143k, WIP)

Summary: When Harry arrives at the most prestigious theatrical school in the country, he doesn't have many expectations. The most unexpected thing he encounters is Tom Riddle, and subsequently, falling in love with the only other person who deals with feelings as well as him. But maybe, just maybe, he and Tom will find out that not all love stories have to end in tragedy. Why I rec it for this prompt: The character work is so rich and detailed in this coming-of-age story in a modern AU setting. There's so much thought that went into all the character interactions here, and I love the way that @reggieblk cleverly weaves in elements from plays and uses the theatre backdrop to develop in such a lovely and fraught and realistic way how Harry and Tom end up falling for each other.

*

Running list of recs:

Day 1: Favorite under 5k | Such a Noble Villain Day 2: Comfort Fic | In Somno Veritas | Ouroboros Day 3: Podfic | a taste so good (i'd die for it) Day 4: Fic with Art | A Soulmate Like You Day 5: A Non-AO3 Fic | The Anti-Midas Day 6: Unreliable Narrator Fic | Anabiosis Day 7: A Canon-Compliant Fic | In Your Soul is Sealed a Pleasure Day 8: A Canon-Divergence Fic | Thirst Day 9: A Rare Pair Fic | dust in your pocket | A Breed Apart Day 10: A Fest Fic | In Your Image Day 11: A Dark Fic | As Portioned from a Whole Day 12: A WIP Rec | Lover's Spit | Revolution of Configured Stars Day 13: A Fic >100k Words | One Year In Every Ten | if we were lovers

[evanniversary]

A Basic Guide to Nadia

Fushigi no Umi no Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water

ふしぎの海のナディア THE SECRET OF BLUE WATER, released in English as simply Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water, is a show created by Gainax for NHK that ran for 39 episodes á 25 minutes from 1990 to 1991. It is in my opinion one of the most underappreciated anime ever. It directly prefigured Evangelion, it's almost completely singular in being an Adventure story that directly confronts the colonial underpinnings of the genre, and it's often one of the least talked about entries in the filmographies of the people who made it.

It's not unproblematic, no african people were involved in its production, but neither were any europeans, so its cultural insensitivity is a good bit more even-handed than many of its contemporaries in the Adventure genre.

While there are different releases of the show, they don't vary hugely. The biggest difference is that newer releases don't include the "Next Episode" previews, which featured postcards sent in by fans.

ふしぎの海のナディア roughly translates to "Nadia of the Mysterious Sea"

Fushigi no Umi no Nadia Gekijōyō Originalban / The Mystery of Fuzzy

ふしぎの海のナディア劇場用オリジナル版 , released in English under a few different titles including Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water: The Movie, Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water: The Motion Picture and Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water: The Secret of Fuzzy, a theatrical film released two and a half months after the show's conclusion in 1991, set three years after the show. It was largely outsourced, it's barely over 80 minutes, including a good 20 minutes of clips from the show, it's not very well regarded but I personally actually quite like it, its janky animation just has a certain gap moe appeal, and it weirdly introduces a lot of ideas that show up again in Evangelion, despite neither the writer nor the director of the movie going on to work on Eva.

Fushigi no Umi no Nadia: Nautilus Story

ふしぎの海のナディア　ノーチラス・ストーリー is a re-edit of the show by Anno Hideaki that condenses the story into three two-hour movies. They were to my knowledge only officially released once in Japan in 1991, but there is a fan re-creation of the films using HD footage from modern releases of the show that has English subtitles and is very easy to find if you know where to look.

As is usual for recap movies, these are a fine way to get the main plot of the show, but especially the first part ends up feeling incredibly rushed and you lose a lot of thematic and emotional depth. 39 episodes is long, I get that, and I'd rather people watch the Nautilus Story than nothing at all, but you really should watch the show.

Movie 1: Ep. 1-9

Movie 2: Ep. 11-22

Movie 3: mostly Ep. 35-39

Nadia Omake Gekijō

ナディアおまけ劇場 (Nadia Bonus Theatre / Nadia Specials) is a series of 10 shorts included on physical releases of the show, some set between episodes of the show, some set after the show, and some that are completely non-canonical. To my knowledge they've never been officially released outside Japan, but someone uploaded them to YouTube and there's fansubs if you know where to look too.

Fushigi no Umi no Nadia Film Comic

ふしぎの海のナディア　フィルム・コミック is a comic/manga adaptation of Nadia using visual material from the show with 7 volumes in total, released from 1990 to 1991. To my knowledge it has not been translated into English, although I think I have seen an Italian translation somewhere, but most of the dialogue is probably taken from the show so it should be easy enough to follow, and copies are fairly affordable.

Volume 1: Ep. 1-4

Volume 2: Ep. 5-8

Volume 3: Ep. 9-10 & 14-15

Volume 4: Ep. 20-22

Volume 5: Ep. 23, 26, 31

Volume 6: Ep. 35-39

Volume 7: The Movie

Nadia novels

There are six novels based on Nadia. The first three are adaptations of the show, the fourth is an expanded version of the film's story, and the last two, titled Nadia Stories, are completely original stories set seven years after the TV show. These all almost certainly have not been translated into English, there are no official translations and fan translations of entire novels are pretty rare.

1. 小説ふしぎの海のナディア上　青い光を抱いたプリンセス (1990) (roughly: Princess in Blue Light)

2. 小説ふしぎの海のナディア中　未来を夢みる大海戦 (1991) (roughly: A Great Naval Battle That Dreams of the Future)

3. 小説ふしぎの海のナディア下　はるかなる高い空 (1991) (roughly: The Far Up Sky)

4. 小説ふしぎの海のナディア NADIA THE MOVIE　ー海から来た妖精ー (1991) (roughly: Fairy From the Sea)

5. ナディアストーリーズ１　ジャンとナディアのいちばん長い日 (1992) (roughly: Jean and Nadia's Longest Day)

6. ナディアストーリーズ２　ふしぎの森のマリー (1992) (roughly: Marie of the Mysterious Forest)

Albums

There's obviously soundtrack albums, as well as two albums of original songs titled VOCAL COLLECTION and two remix albums titled Mixed up NADIA and HOOKED ON NADIA, but there are also two narrative albums, Bye Bye Blue Water, released in 1991, and Good Luck NADIA 〜Bye Bye Blue Water PART 2, released in 1993, that feature audio drama segments interspersed with music. The first part mostly contains segments taking place during the story of the show, while the second part is mostly set after the show's conclusion, ending in 2005 with a descendant of Nadia named Itō Nadia living in New Tōkyō. Considering the similarity to NGE's setting, and that NGE started development in 1993 as a sequel to Nadia, it's possible this was at one point intended to be a setup for the show, with Itō Nadia most likely being developed into Misato when the rights to Nadia couldn't be obtained from NHK.

Interestingly, unlike most Nadia media, which used the Fushigi no Umi no Nadia branding, these albums use the English THE SECRET OF BLUE WATER logo. However, despite this and their titles being entirely in English, there is no English version of these albums, or even a text translation, at least not that I've been able to find.

Lastly, there's also an audio cassette titled やったらこうなっちゃったナディア (roughly: This is what happened when I tried it, Nadia) that I haven't been able to find out much about, but seems to also contain audio drama segments set over the course of the show.

Others

徳間アニメ絵本 (Tokuma Anime Picture Book) - A series of children's books based on children's anime films and series, particularly those made by or somehow with the involvement of Miyazaki Hayao. Books 7 and 8, released in 1991, adapt Nadia.

Famicom game: Appears to be a strategy game with Nadia characters & vehicles as units. Doesn't seem to have much of a story to speak of. Released in 1991.

Mega Drive game: An RPG adaptation of the show, but with a different ending based on earlier drafts of the ending of the show, due to the fact it released in March 1991 before the show's actual ending aired. It was re-released in 2022 by way of being included on the Japanese version of the Mega Drive Mini 2.

コミック・ブルーウォーター / THE SECRET OF COMIC BLUE WATER - An anthology of short Nadia manga created by various staff and other artists, released in 1992

ARE YOU THE ADVENTURER?.......THEN PURSUE ME.　THE SECRET OF THE BLUE WATER - PC adventure game developed by Gainax, released in 1992 for PC-98, followed by ports for X68000, FM TOWNS CD-ROM and various mobile devices, telling an original story set around episode 14 of the show.

PC Engine SUPER CD-ROM² game: Visual novel released in 1993, telling an original story set around episode 29 of the show, centring a new character named Physis.

You may have noticed that all of the above released in the years 1990-1993. After Neon Genesis Evangelion started development, Nadia as its own franchise basically died and mostly only lives on through its ties to Evangelion, with characters from Nadia being featured in games like the 1998 mahjong game Eva to Yukai na Nakamatachi and Super Robot Wars X, as well as Evangelion artbooks and calendars. However, there have been two new pieces of Nadia media released in the 21st century:

ふしぎの海のナディア 〜 Inherit the Blue Water 〜 is a game released in 2005 that adapts most of the story of the show, mostly taking the form of a visual novel interspersed with gameplay sections and clips from the show as cutscenes, while also weaving in an original story about a new character named Sofia Rockfeld, who Jean can end up in a relationship with depending on player decisions.

Wikipedia also lists a visual novel for mobile devices that released episodically in 2006, but is, as typical for mobile apps, no longer available and poorly documented.

ふしぎの海のナディア　コミックアンソロジー (Fushigi no Umi no Nadia: Comic Anthology) is another anthology of short manga by different artists, released in 2012, and the last new piece of official Nadia media to date, at least that I've been able to find.

Over the coming years, I hope to be able to write individual posts about each of these, and as I do so, I will add links to those posts to this one, although currently my Japanese knowledge is not good enough yet to be able to talk in-depth about the untranslated works, nor do I know if I'll have the time for all of them, so if anyone would like to help with that, it would be greatly appreciated.

[frankendykes-monster]

Countdown to Halloween 2024 ranked

54. The Willies (1990)

53. Hell High (1987)

52. Face of The Screaming Werewolf (1964)

51. Terrifier (2016)

50. The Last Halloween (1991)

49. Cathy's Curse (1977)

48. The Last Shark (1981)

47. Godzilla × Kong: The New Empire (2024)

46. Creepozoids (1987)

45. The Horror of Frankenstein (1970)

44. Frankenstein's Castle of Freaks (1974)

43. Man Beast (1956)

42. Tourist Trap (1979)

41. Daughter of Dr. Jekyll (1957)

40. Fiend (1980)

39. Vampyros Lesbos (1971)

38. Devil Girl From Mars (1954)

37. Halloween Hall o' Fame (1977)

36. Nightmare (1981)

35. The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra (2001)

34. Peeping Tom (1960)

33. Violent Shit (1989)

32. Invaders From Mars (1986)

31. Eggshells (1969)

30. Night of The Ghouls (1959)

29. Scream, Blacula, Scream (1973)

28. The Strange World of Planet X (1958)

27. The Colossus of New York (1958)

26. The Scooby-Doo Project (1999)

25. Night of The Living Doo (2001)

24. Scooby-Doo! and The Reluctant Werewolf (1988)

23. The Great Bear Scare (1983)

22. The Wasp Woman (1995)

21. The Cyclops (1957)

20. Frankenstein and The Monster from Hell (1974)

19. The Tingler (1959)

18. The Boogey Man (1980)

17. The Dragon Lives Again (1977)

16. Quatermass and The Pit (1967)

15. The Brain That Wouldn't Die (1962)

14. Mad Love (1935)

13. The Alien Factor (1978)

12. The Walking Dead (1935)

11. Dr. Caligari (1989)

10. The Deadly Spawn (1983)

9. Invaders From Mars (1953)

8. Alucarda (1977)

7. Uzumaki (2024)

6. Sole Survivor (1984)

5. Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979)

4. Shock Waves (1977)

3. Frankenhooker (1990)

2. Invasion of The Body Snatchers (1978)

1. Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla (1974)

What a productive year. October lasts all of 30 seconds which is why I have to start watching these in July if I want to make any decent headway (31 films is not enough). I desperately tried to make this a year of "have not seens" after last year's top spots being flooded with films I already loved; we mostly did it, mostly. Another top heavy year with relatively few abysmal entries, let's get started.

The Willies is the grand shitshow for this year. It feels like it's an evolutionary precursor to something like Goosebumps or Are You Afraid of The Dark?, but it mostly plays to gross out rather than scares. I don't normally care for anthology horror films to begin so to start off a film with brief segments like a woman eating a deep fried rat or a little white dog being microwave exploded and then doing extended stories on monsters hiding in the school bathroom does not do it for me. The most minimal points possible for some decent lighting and special effects but they are not enough by any means to make this worth watching. Stay away.

Onto the 1980's horror: Hell High is what happens when a film crew asks "what if we put a woman into a situation and didn't stop". I want to call it misogynistic torture porn, but I don't want to devalue that phrase for when I use it for a film later on here, but suffice to say a woman is tortured. Emotionally. For very little reason. Universal was right to block The Last Shark from US theatrical distribution. Not because it's a very blatant Jaws ripoff and they wanted to protect their copyright, but because it's abysmal and nobody should have to pay money to see this. I think the stock footage of sharks juxtaposed with the unmoving props between shots is funny, and some of the soundtrack elevates the experience, like the high shrill drones when the shark attacks a helicopter. Creepozoids is an odd one because 1987 was a bit late for a Mad Max/Escape from New York/Alien knockoff but also too early for some Full Moon tier/softcore porn adjacent 1990's production, so it loses out on both fronts. Fiend I'm struggling to even recall, I feel like Don Dohler had one movie in him (see: his plethora of alien invasion films) and him trying to branch out did him no favors. Nightmare is one I want to enjoy because it's beautifully shot but I feel like I've seen one too many slasher adjacent films at this point that include plot points like the killer having a troubled relationship with his mother or him moonlighting as a regular guy (still better than Pieces mind you). Same with Violent Shit. I feel like my tastes are pretty attuned to films that are just gore effects showcases but this one doesn't have any zany concepts to justify or compliment it, so it just falls flat.

The Boogey Man belongs to that tirade of Halloween knockoffs that flooded theaters up till about 1984 or so, but it puts in some extra effort like having a ghost be the main antagonist and a symbolic interest in mirrors, which is much more than could be asked of films like Terror Train which came out the same year. Dr. Caligari is the obligatory "this is what Tim Burton thinks he's doing" film of this year; its sets and its performances are perfectly otherworldly to a humorous degree. It's something of a quasi-sequel to the 1920 film but its relationship with logic is attuned to such a frequency that it's not a hindrance. Very hard to objectively quantify, you're either in the target audience or you aren't, so of all films here take its tier placement the least seriously. The Deadly Spawn is such a gloriously gross film. The house it's shot in isn't supposed to be disgusting on purpose, it's just one of those century's old buildings where I feel like I'd revulse if I had to touch any surface, and that's before fleshy alien monsters break in and start shredding people to bits. Sole Survivor is one of those magical "missing link" horror films, we've finally found what comes between Carnival of Souls and Final Destination. The actual scares in this film are incredibly minimal as it prioritizes atmosphere that balances between comfort and unease, something incredibly rare for films of virtually any genre. Don't go in expecting ghosts and you'll be pleasantly surprised.

Taking a brief-ish detour to the 1960's, Face of The Screaming Werewolf is one of those films I'm more angry at than anything because it's one of those films that's just the combined stray footage of multiple previous films. Rare for these to be produced in the western market (most of the examples I think of are from (south)east Asia) but it's infuriating nonetheless to see something only to discover it's a worse version of multiple better things you could be seeing. Peeping Tom is our "most overrated" entry winner, I don't know why so many people applaud this one, I feel like barely anything of substance happens to such a degree that any ounce of suspense you could draw from this just disappears, and what a shame with the concept at play here that feels as if it would take another decade for everyone else to catch up. Eggshells is the directorial debut of Tobe Hooper and while cohesive narrative is virtually nonexistent here, the amount of experimental editing keeps this going throughout the entire runtime, you can definitely see where The Texas Chainsaw Massacre came from down the line. I feel like I'm somewhat disappointed with Quatermass and The Pit (not sure what "The Pit" refers to now that I think of it) mostly becasue the first two Quatermass films are among the best 1950's science fiction films. All three are theatrical remakes of television mini-series and that's most felt here with how so much of the film takes place in the single location of an unearthed Martian ship in the heart of London. I do love that we have a science fiction film positing that humans are partly the genetic ancestors of aliens prior to people taking that seriously with books like Chariot of The Gods. The Brain That Wouldn't Die is magical, sometimes those oft hated 1950's/1960's science fiction films have something to give back to the rest of us. Here it's a man so obsessed with his own work that he sees his wife's death as an opportunity to try and kill other women so that he can use their bodies as grounds to bring her back. Which sounds like something else I watched...

...said film being Frankenhooker, which has largely the same plot but now functions as a dark comedy. God. I hate so much that the capitalist enclosure on the production and distribution of film prevented us from getting so much more from Frank Henenlotter. The man is one of the best to ever direct horror, and anyone who thinks this film or any of his other work are "bad movies" just flat out do not know what they're talking about. I think compared to Basket Case and Brain Damage however, Frankenhooker is the one that "keeps giving". You think you've seen everything the film has to offer and then something like a hotel room full of women combusts as they succumb to the effects of exploding crack or Elizabeth (the titular character) has her head punched back and starts spewing smoke and electricity everywhere. Film is a magical medium of art.

Terrifier is what I held onto "misogynistic torture porn" for. No narrative, no character work, just opportunities to show Art the Clown dismember and murder women in revolting ways. It's one of those films that vindicates everyone that doesn't like this genre and makes me wonder what I'm doing sitting side by side with people that like this shit. I think Art cutting off a woman's breasts and scalp and attaching them to his nude body to disguise himself as another prior female victim of his is when my mouth went agape and audibly asked what the fuck am I watching, cannot stress enough how much it takes to get that reaction out of me. There's an upfront showcase that Terrifier knows that it's trash and revels in it, I mean there's an early scene where we see Art has spelled out his name in his own shit, and I'm not sure how to interpret that other than I feel like I might be landing in a Duchamp's Urinal trap. For reasons that allude even me I am still eyeing the prospect of watching both sequels.

I think my overall reaction to Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire is one of "whatever". A passably bad film is a definite improvement from the abomination that was Godzilla vs. Kong but it's admittedly easy to rise up when you start from the bottom. Adam Wingard more or less sucked all the joy I could muster out of the Monsterverse, I truly do not care anymore. If anything can be gleaned from this film it's that this is a film made to reconfirm people's existing biases of "I hate the boring human scenes, I'm only watching this for the monsters." Kong is the best actor in this film because the special effects team have to have him actually emote in response to a given situation, which is more than could be asked of anyone actually on the set, apparently. It's a miracle that this came out in the shadow of Godzilla Minus One than on its own terms.

The glut of 1950's science fiction films are a perennial staple of the Halloween countdown but they don't have a huge showing this year. Man Beast is one I'm going to confuse with all the other yeti movies of the decade though having a main antagonist that's actually a human hybrid gets it some points for originality. Daughter of Dr. Jekyll infuriates me because women who become monsters in film never get to be "hideous" and "scary" like their male counterparts, I'm throwing tomatoes at this one. Devil Girl From Mars is mostly memorable for having a giant clunky robot a la Gort, but the actual titular antagonist doesn't "serve cunt" enough to warrant interest, she should have taken notes from The Astounding She-Monster. The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra is an honorable mention because it's a feature-length pastiche of the z-grade films of this era. I don't think it's particularly funny and I kind of wish they lampooned a "good" film of this type rather than make something that fits in line with the middling genre efforts. Night of The Ghouls is the last horror film directed by Ed Wood and I feel like I enjoy it slightly more than Plan 9 From Outer Space. It's far more competent in producing that lulling insomniac reaction than Wood's prior efforts but I still don't "get" the attention his work consistently gets. The Strange World of Planet X gets a special pass from me just because the finale has a bunch of giant bugs attacking stuff. Moving on.

The Colossus of New York is an oddball modern Frankenstein of sorts with a guy being transformed into a giant robot and struggling to maintain some attachment to his former life. It doesn't always work but once again giant clunky robots are giant clunky robots. I'm something of a Bert I. Gordon apologist so something like The Cyclops is going to hit harder for me than it does for most people. I just like people wandering around Bronson Cave and poor matte shots of giant animals moving in and out of frame, okay? The Tingler was the oddest revisit I've had in a while. I don't think I fully "get" William Castle's approach to film but what stuck out to me is how this one takes place in largely two locations and how Vincent Price's character is kind of the antagonist, experimenting on animals, himself, and other people (resulting in a murder) to get at the Tingler. Much like in House on Haunted Hill I'm not wholly sure how some of the spooky things in this film actually work and I don't think I'm meant to, adding to the bizarre nature of the entire series of affairs here.

Invaders From Mars...oh yes. One of the absolute best 1950's science fiction films is also the most lyrical and dreamlike. It reads at times like a Soviet parody of an American child's story would be like; a boy sees every institution designed to protect him as a child and as an American turn against him on account of some nefarious foreign invader, so his only course of action is to get the US military involved. It plays out so well because it's a POV piece from a young boy, which eases over any leaps in logic both in terms of form and content of this film. Which is more than can be said of the remake, part of the diminishing returns of Tobe Hooper's then contract with Cannon. The film largely follows the same plot structure but decenters the frame through which we see it unfold giving it a "the military is legit" vibe. It also is just a bit more mean-spirited in ways that are designed to taunt the audience versus the original film's more hardened edge to it. I think a great summation of the difference between the two is that the 1953 film had Martian bodyguards that are clearly guys in fuzzy green pajama suits, but they're more threatening than the ones in the 1986 film which are giant quadruped Stan Winston monsters. I digress. Had this come out 20 years later it would be classified as part of the wave of "why are they remaking everything?"

Speaking of remakes, briefly want to mention the 1995 Wasp Woman. It's The Wasp Woman for the 1990's, now with explosions and softcore sex scenes. I can't wholly defend the original 1959 film despite my affinity for it, so let's just say this one is of comparable quality.

The 1930's are a delightful treasure trove for horror but sadly we only have two up for offer. Mad Love makes me curious as to how other adaptations of The Hands of Orlac handle the material; I was convinced a guy got his head surgically reattached and with artificial hands to boot. Always good to see Colin Clive and Peter Lorre. The Walking Dead feels like a dry run for what Boris Karloff would do later that decade in the much better The Man They Could Not Hang, just with him as the victim here and not the mastermind. Truly some of his best work as an actor as he has to float through the world not being allowed to live or die, that shit sticks with you.

We watched a scant few Halloween specials proper, I always feel like I want to watch every Halloween special possible but sometimes the enthusiasm leaves me. The Last Halloween is trash, but that's on me for thinking something made for very small children would appeal to me as an adult. It crams far too much into its brief 22 minute runtime, so the only thing that manages to escape into the zone of interest is that the CGI aliens are actually very well done for a 1991 television production, had this been all about them (voiced by Hanna Barbara stalwarts such as Frank Welker and Don Messick, along with Paul Williams), this would have been far more tolerable. Halloween Hall o' Fame is the first of apparently several Disney television specials that repackaged their theatrical shorts inside a live-action framing device. It's quaint but this format would live and die by the quality of the shorts included; I'm not intimately familiar with Disney's back catalogue solely because they've barely released anything on home media but I absolutely adore the one where Pluto goes to Hell and is put in a kangaroo court with cats on the jury. I feel like the novelty of The Scooby-Doo Project and Night of The Living Doo have carried them along further than their actual quality have, stray artifacts from when Warner Bros was briefly testing to see if Scooby could be an adult property now, doomed to the same fate as Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law. The latter of these two specials made me come to terms with the fact that David Cross was "a big deal" at some point. The Great Bear Scare is the winner here. How could you not like an animated special where bears have to stand up and be brave against an oncoming horde of Halloween monsters? What makes this an oddity (sort of an obligation for me and Halloween specials) is that this is animated 100% without in-betweens, so every character in every scene cross-dissolves in real time between their keyframes. Depending on who you are it could be ridiculously distracting or make you step back and appreciate how hard animation is.

Clearing out our remaining animated showings, I felt like I would really get back into Scooby-Doo and The Reluctant Werewolf. In the mid-late 2000's when Cartoon Network was desperately trying to excise showing anything from their backlogs, this is one of those films that was on repeat constantly as midday viewings especially over summer. It's just so far removed from what Scooby-Doo "proper" is that it's an enigma, I go to bat to defend each of the "red shirt Shaggy" movies but this is brain melting at times, there is no mystery to solve, monsters are real, Fred/Daphne/Velma are completely absent, half the film is dedicated to a drag race, it goes on and on and on that I feel numb after a bit. Uzumaki...it's good. I feel like the fact that this was in production hell for five years following the first trailer release made me stop caring so all the shenanigans regarding the reaction to the animation dropping off (the production team got screwed over, how the fuck do studios not have the money for FOUR EPISODES, David Zlasv strikes again) brushed off of me. Regardless of that I think the actual pacing would have restricted this given how much sequential material from the manga now has to occur concurrently. It gets by solely because it's Uzumaki and as such it channels such a foreboding sense of dread and despair that is unreal. This more than anything is the true epitome of cosmic horror because there is no "source" or "identity" behind the threat that is warping reality around you, there is nothing to oppose and be defiant against, which was true of the manga and it remains true here. Bravo.

The 1970's prove to be another sporadic decade for horror. Cathy's Curse proves that no matter how good technical effects are, do not watch any Carrie knockoffs. Blah. Frankenstein's Castle of Freaks...you took a movie where a Frankenstein monster fights a caveman and made it boring, congratulations. In the interim between 2021's viewing of Curse of Frankenstein and now, I've made the effort to watch the entirety of the Hammer Frankenstein series. They make for a brilliant reinterpretation of the source material with Frankenstein effectively being antagonist: he kills consistently for his experiments, which often time warp and alter people's identities along with their bodies. The "holy triumvirate" of the series as referred to by me would be The Revenge of Frankenstein, Frankenstein Created Woman, and Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed, all for showcasing new stuff that can be done with the character and any prior influences such as the Universal films being absent. Then comes The Horror of Frankenstein, a soft remake of Curse of Frankenstein, with Terence Fischer and Peter Cushing both absent. It's a dry and tedious affair that just rehashes what Curse already did, just now with a black comedic angle and no real consequences for Frankenstein himself. It's easily the worst of the series and why I'm glad Hammer backtracked for Frankenstein and The Monster From Hell. This is probably the first instance in film history where a sequel has consciously ignored a preceding remake, and while it's not wholly original either, it's comfort food for fans of this series, and now employs a darker more claustrophobic setting in an ~insane asylum~. Not the best ending for the series, but Hammer, along with Toho and Ray Harryhausen's efforts with Columbia, sort of represented the "old" styles of horror that were pretty quickly being replaced as the decade went on. This film specifically came out the same year as the likes of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, it was a transitional period where what horror once was was cast away. Still not sure why the monster in this film looks like a Neanderthal man but that's just me.

Tourist Trap desperately tries to be one part Psycho and one part Texas Chainsaw, and it admittedly starts off with a nice hook of animatronic puppets being the main focus of the film, but it falls through the cracks and just becomes another random 1970's horror film. Vampyros Lesbos makes me realize that my infatuation with Zombi 3 last year did not mean I'm suddenly infatuated with Lucio Fulci's overall filmography, exceptions are not the rule. Come to think I don't think I've seen a single lesbian vampire film that I'm smitten with, how do you make this boring and not sexy at all, fuck you. Scream, Blacula, Scream is the obligatory Blacula cash-in sequel, nothing worthwhile to see here and none of the charm and significance of the first film is carried forward here, sigh. "DEDICATED TO THE MILLIONS THAT LOVE BRUCE LEE," The Dragon Lives Again is one of the plethora of films featuring Lee impersonators following his death, showing Lee in Hell as he has to find a way back to Earth while also fighting off The Godfather, Dracula, The Man with No Name, Emanuele, Zatoichi, and James Bond while allying himself with Popeye and Dr. Who. No I am not making any of this up, yes, this film was made with very little money so it sounds far more interesting than it actually ends up being, but it's a cute film, I can't be mad at a film made for me, nor can a movie showing Popeye eat spinach to fight mummies or Bruce Lee knocking out Dracula with his "third leg" be something you don't go out of your way to watch.

The Alien Factor is Don Dohler's first and best film. I love the fact that a dozen people made a small scale alien invasion/slasher film in their backyards with actually solid special effects for something that was probably made on the weekends. You can't hate this film, it's made from pure love for what was already decades old genre material. Had some of the script and acting been tightened up this could have become one of the more widely recognized independent films of the decade. Oh...Alucarda. I hate when they make a lesbian devil worshiper film between girls coming to terms with theirs sexual orientation and then they aren't the heroes of the story. We've come a long way since then.

Given that the Eggers film is still a few months out, I'd say Nosferatu the Vampyre is my preferred interpretation of the story (not my favorite Dracula adaptation overall mind you). Let me say that I think remaking Nosferatu is ridiculous solely because you're just doing Dracula, again, just with some stylistic details brought on from a specific prior Dracula. But this film goes all out. It's one of those times where I'm reminded of why slowly paced films with shots that last minutes at a time are so great. It relies very little on narrative (the extent/nature of Dracula's power of the geographic barriers between Wismar and Transylvania go unexplained) but you get so thoroughly sucked into the setting and the characters that you can't complain. This has undeniably the best portrayal of Mina in any Dracula film, she's effectively the protagonist by the second half and each of her encounters with Dracula are on her terms, he's effectively powerless against her even if she ensures they both die in the end. Also, rats. So many rats. Everywhere. The plague is in town.

Shock Waves is just great 1970's horror. Shoot on location, hold the camera in hand the entire time, do it cheap, have a dreamy distant narrator, and make it grisly. I do find the concept of Nazis engineering platoons of super soldiers and we only seeing just the one in this film is probably the scariest thing about it, it invites you to think about what else is happening out of sight. My favorite first watch of the year.

1978's Invasion of The Body Snatchers is also a phenomenal remake. This one is difficult for me to talk about because it just pushes all my buttons, I felt like I wanted to cry throughout the duration of this viewing, it is an incredibly mean film. Someone you know just one day turns on you, and then everyone else follows suit. You think you know your surroundings and your city but everything is flipped upside down and you can't even describe why. From the very start when you see the premature pods land on Earth it's made immediately clear that no one is making it out of here, it was too late as soon as it started.

But there can only be one #1, and this year it's Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla. Another instance of "nothing is going to beat this" as soon as I rewatched it. I feel like I'm alone in considering this one of the absolute best in the series, I feel like between the espionage and exploration and blood and laser fights that this is just one of the films that reminds you of why we make and why we watch movies, you get to have some semblance of every possible human emotion watching this. There's not much more you can ask for.