#wasn't sure which of them i wanted to be more

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Could you please write first time with Vi or with both Vi and Caitlin, I don't really mind which one it's up to you (thank you in advance if you write any of this 🙏)

Comfortable

|| vi x caitlyn x fem!reader

|| Warnings; smut, reader's first, breast play, pussy eating, fingering, praise kink, orgasm, finger sucking, good girl use, break, bottom/receiving!reader, dom!vi, dom!caitlyn

|| Summary; when the girls get reader to their room, they have some fun.

Requests closed!

Started; November 26th

Finished; November 27th

~~~

It wasn't long before the two girls had you following them to their bedroom. Caitlyn holding your hand as she brought you along, a subtle smug look across her face while Vi couldn't stop smirking. Before you knew it you were up against the door. Caitlyn's lips against your neck, Vi's body against yours. They knew this was your first. So they planned ahead with you to go slow, making sure you had a safe word and that this was what you really wanted. If at any point you decided to stop, they wouldn't hesitate to let you. This was all happening on your grounds.

Caitlyn placed gentle kisses to your neck. Sucking until a mark was left while Vi brought your lips onto her own. You couldn't help but moan from the different sensations. The sound sending vibrations through Vi's lips that made her shudder. She parted the kiss and gave Caitlyn a subtle look. They seemed to almost make some agreement and the next thing you knew, Vi was picking you up. Carrying you to their bed where she set you down. Caitlyn laid next to you. Helping you out of your clothes, the soft look never leaving her eyes. Taking in the sight of your naked appearance.

"You're beautiful," She murmured. Leaning forwards to suck your breasts. The nipple gently rolling between her teeth. You gasped at the feeling. Back instinctively arching into her. Wanting more. It was insane how good she could make you feel. Just from the breasts alone. You'd been so focused on Caitlyn that you didn't realize what Vi was doing. Until you suddenly felt her tongue against your clit. Lapping at the wetness. Savouring the taste while her tongue danced in circles. Bringing waves of overwhelming, endless, pleasure through you. The two of them on you at once... was almost enough to make you cum then and there. And you nearly did. But you managed yo control it, hold it in.

That didn't last long, though. The moment Vi started adding her fingers you were done. The knot that had tightened itself in your stomach came undone. Despite your best efforts at keeping it together. Your pitch got louder, hands gripping the sheets. Lifting Caitlyn a bit when your back arched more. Caitlyn smirked against your skin. Her hand roaming down to your waist, gently pulling you down. Holding you still. "Shh, you're doing so well." Caitlyn praised. Her tone a murmur.

Vi lifted her head, licking the cum from her lips. Her finger pulling out of you and into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you relaxed into it. Sucking her finger. The taste of yourself making you moan. Vi smirked and cupped your cheek with her other hand. "Such a good girl. Could you be any cuter?" Vi leaned forward. Taking her finger from your lips and instead capturing them in her own. The kiss bruising. Your lips trying to keep up with hers in a desperate, sloppy attempt.

As the kiss parted, you struggled a bit to catch your breath. Still overwhelmed from your orgasm. Caitlyn noticed before Vi and sat up, placing a hand to your stomach. "Hey, just breathe. Do you need water?" She asked, when you nodded she left the bed. Getting you water while Vi laid beside you. Watching you with concern in her eyes.

"Do you wanna stop here?" Vi asked and you shook your head. You didn't want to stop. It felt absolutely amazing. But you did need a break before they could do anymore to you.

"Just.. a break." You told her, her eyes softened and she held you close. Being the bigger spoon as her fingers trailed soft circles against your stomach.

"Take as long as you need." She whispered.

You definitely did. It was nearly twenty minutes before you were ready to go again. But the girls didn't mind. They wanted you comfortable.

[mellowdiplomattrashpsychic]

It's funny with all the sudden parents and all, but think about how Danny being Calico is an open secret. It has so much potential.

Like- everyone knows. They dont say, nobody arrests him, but everyone knows and he knows that they know. It a Gotham secret.

And its just- imagine that it helps cover up the bats' identities? Because Bruce adopted WAY too many by now for people to not make any connections.

I bet the only thing holding them off is bad picture quality, stress of surviving everyday, simply not caring, and/or fanfiction. You can't tell me that people haven't shipped Bruce/Batman. You know how hard-core fans could be.

But now? Now it's "more concrete" that Bruce isn't Batman and the kids aren't the other vigilantes. After all, why would Batman keep a rogue as a child?

It's a stupid thing to think about considering Red Hood is still around and Robin (Damian) has a sword. But really, imagine it?

And its hilarious because people are actively cheering on the chaos gremlin. This is what they want! Sure, Bruce does great things with his charities, mass donations, and the WE stuff going (the last one they think is credited more on Tim and Damian though).

But it's not enough. Legal stuff is slow. Inventing and innovating things is difficult. The whole system is corrupt for fucks sake! It takes a hell of a lot more time to get shit done. I mean- look at the parks and plants around! Barely any, and Poison Ivy was out there killing because of all that pollution and plant killing!

Red Hood was making a difference. Sure, it was still dangerous in Crime Alley, but there was a huge difference from back then. It even impacted outside territories, too. So he didn't only help Crime Alley, but Gotham in general with the whole killing thing.

They needed more anti-heroes that made that large-scale change. And that's what Danny provided as Calico.

Also, the original post had "daylight vigilante turned dark" in it. Phantom is an obvious choice to think about but... but what if he wasn't?

Think about it. What other name could he have that he could commit to the bit to?

I just think it would be funny if he had another name. Not related to bats, birds, or (now) cats, but something like Signal in a way. Definitely a change of wardrobe. Probably uses the Phantom alias for big problems (alien invasions, Darkseid, big world catastrophe shit, ghost or magic stuff)

What if he did deal with magic? He's slowly getting rid of the curses in Gotham which is easier in the day since light weakens them (maybe).

That got off track, but yeah, imagine the drama he could cook up with not 1, not 2, not 3-

With 3 aliases!

(Familiar to anyone? Sorry, had to do it)

Just, just about the chaos he could brew. Duplication isn't that hard now that he has time to practice with decent enough sleep ;)

"And? What did you decide on?" Duke asks, fork slipping from his mouth and chewing, focused on Danny.

The boy in question hums. "Oh yeah, I'm totally joining in on the nightlife."

The statement has all of them stopping in their tracks, blatantly staring at the still eating boy.

"This will be my emo arc, daylight vigilante turned dark."

Tim snorts, Jason gives a smirk, nudging the eldest sibling next to him from his frozen state.

"Ooooh," Steph leans forward. "Have you decided? Bat or Bird?"

"New name?" Cass jumps in on the questioning with a small smile, eyes crinkling.

"Will you be joining us tonight then, danyal?" His twin speaks up for the first time during dinner, eyes narrowed and calculating.

"Yes." Is the short reply, with the way damian's lips turn down and displeasure makes itself clear, the intention of giving such a short answer has been met.

"Danny," Bruce gains the attention, leaning forward with his fingers interlocked and brows furrowed with what must be worry.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured into this just because everyone else is—"

"I'm more than sure, B!"

The man sighs. "And I won't be able to stop you?"

"Mhm." He gives a nod.

"Okay," his shoulders sag in defeat. "Do you have everything then—?"

"Yep!"

"Even—"

"B, I'm pretty sure I got everything, you can, if in your opinion I am missing something, give it to me later!"

Danny grins, pushing himself up from the table and rounding around towards the door.

"Besides! My whole get up will be a suprise!! So stay awake folks because I'm gonna blow ya all away."

As he leaves, Steph and Duke make sounds of anticipation, curiosity eating at all of them.

(They dont know whats gonna hit 'em.)

"I'm betting 50 bucks that he's gonna be a bat."

Alfred shakes his head at the newfound excitement.

—

What an exciting night.

There is still no sight of their newest, despite oracle's teasing, having apparently already been included in the suprise.

"Well well well," a sly, yet teasing voice makes itself into the open. Catwoman, in all her glory, walks up to the group of bats and birds.

"If it isn't the bat, what's with the gloomy face?"

Batman gives her a nod. "Cat."

Her eyes roam the group and she tilts her head. "Everyone seems to be here tonight." She comments.

"We're waiting," the man shares. "Our newest decided to be more secretive about his debut."

Catwoman gives him a smug smirk. "So I have heard," a chuckle. "I've come here to introduce you to someone, truthfully."

"Oh? Who is it?" Nightwing perks up, having finally decided to join in.

"Me."

Some yelp, whip their head around and away from the lady in black, gasps and cooing (particularly from steph) fill the roof and Danny joins them.

He wears black combat boots, they're heavy just from the look, but make no sound as he jumps around. The front of the boots look like cat paws, they're reaching up to his knees.

Then comes the baggy black pants, knees protected by poleyn and his belt acting as a cats tail. The hoodie he is wearing is also black, with fingerless gloves (only the middle finger is covered) and reaching up to his neck.

Instead of a domino mask, he wears a hood with cat ears and a dark face mask. Cass claps, knowing fully well he took inspiration from her own get up.

The whole outfit is detailed with orange spots, some parts brown and others grayish.

"Meet my new mentee, Calico."

Danny, Calico, waves.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Dorian, under a cut for length:

"Now this is a fun one. It's no big secret I have a lot of feelings about Dorian, not least of which because he was my first (and only) gay male companion. There's a lot more to him than that, of course (as there should be), and it was quite a trip. So let's go! Now, DAI is a story all its own, but I'm sticking to the characters. In this case, back at the beginning, the writers were going to try something new: we were going to let the artists take a more active role in the companion creation process. Why? Because not doing so had caused a lot of problems. See, here's the thing: writers and artists speak two different languages. When talking about characters, we talk about their story. Who they are. What they want. We'd write up these briefs, huge and full of information... but it was never the information the artists needed. They wanted visual cues. I don't mean describing their appearance. Sure, we'd usually provide that, especially if there was a story case to be made, but often the artists vetoed us on appearance stuff anyhow so meh. No, I mean they looked for visual language while we tended to only talk about who the characters *were*. What would happen is they'd hone in on something visual in our write-up not intended to be a focus. The first write-up for Anders in DA2, for instance, mentioned he was "haggard" after his journey... and the first concept we got was this pale, shriveled man. "What... is this?" "YOU SAID HAGGARD!" 😅"

"That was the other trick: sometimes when we DID try to be more descriptive, we had to be extra cautious because the words could be interpreted very differently. You encounter this recording VO, too. A VO note says "hysterical" and you *meant* "really upset" but the actor read "scream like a banshee" Thus this caused problems, like I said. The artists would struggle, sometimes conjuring details just to give the character *something* but which would change the character... and, to us, the character was created. Done. We were already invested, probably already writing them. Something had to give. So this time we wrote a bunch of character briefs - but short. One paragraph. We stuck to vibes and the *emotions* we wanted the concepts to evoke. And we didn't name them. They got titles like "Slick Con Man" or "Ice Queen", so we wouldn't get too attached. Then we handed these off to the artists. And it worked nicely. The ones that just weren't inspiring we'd discard, no problem. The others had juice... and the artists felt free to play and offer lots of variations because we weren't set on anything yet. A lot of times, what they produced ended up inspiring US. It was a neat back-and-forth."

"This is what led to Dorian, in fact. He came from a short write-up entitled "Rock Star Mage" and it really boiled down to "I'm cool and I know I'm cool, so take that you cretins". And just like that, the first sketches (by Casper Konefal, I think? I bet I'm wrong) were all amazing. Instant fire. Me: "He looks kind of like... Freddie Mercury?" Him: "Is that bad?" Me: "NO ARE YOU KIDDING THIS IS AMAZING" Plus there was a monkey. Sadly, we had to lose the monkey. There were iterations to come, but this was really where Dorian was born: Tevinter mage, noble, savant, and too cool for school."

"When did he become gay? Not right away. Like I said elsewhere, we didn't talk romance and sexuality until after the concepts were more in place. But as we were brainstorming about why this hot shot mage left Tevinter, the idea DID come up that maybe it was because he was gay. Not directly, however. Homophobia isn't really a thing in Thedas, after all, so at first blush I didn't think that could work. "Rich kid gets kicked out of the house for being gay" wasn't a trope I wanted to explore. But, then again, magister families in Tevinter are *obsessed* with the appearance of perfection, so...? Any deviation from the "norm" is considered scandal-worthy. It said weakness. It said you couldn't control your house. Now... THAT had real promise. The writing pit discussed it a lot. So I think it's fair to say that the gay fairy was already circling Dorian even before we got to the romance talk. I think it's also fair to say that the rest of the team realized I low-key wanted to write him, because when everyone started calling dibs, who was left standing for me? (I pick last, remember.) I gleefully snatched him up and got to work... ...about six months later. I was very busy at the time. 😅 That late start meant I had to design and write VERY quickly. And I did. Somehow, though, this one... it came easily. "Catty gay man" isn't digging very deep, no surprise to anyone who knows me, and it had an extra layer of being so fun because Dorian was confident. He sparred verbally. I loved it."

"There was more to it, however. The conflict between Dorian and his father... ugh, how do I say this? Let's be clear: Dorian's story is not MY story, but it's also not far off. I wrote the entire confrontation scene in one go. After I was done, I probably cried harder than I ever have in my life. 🫠 I was unsure whether it was any good, however. I just didn't feel objective. I passed it over to Cori May - my friend but also Dorian's editor - and asked her to please tell me and be honest. She read it. She walked into my office after, tears streaming down her face, and just nodded. "It's good." Here's the thing. Not everyone is going to agree with this, but: I don't think a writer NEEDS to be a minority in order to write a minority. Sometimes those characters should simply exist, and we want them to. But if that character's story is ABOUT their experience as a minority? That's different. Dorian's story didn't need to revolve around his sexuality - and, honestly, it only did so as a tangent to his family issue, but they're so bound together it's probably irrelevant to split them - but my writing him meant it could be. It allowed me to SAY something. That felt good. It felt right. Ramon Tikaram came on board after a lengthy casting process (so many British Indian accents, oh god). I sat in on a few recording sessions... the confrontation scene, though? Ramon: *says line* Me: (curled up on a nearby sofa in fetal position) *shaky thumbs up* Caroline: "Yep. Great work, Ramon!""

"Dorian's sexuality isn't all he's about, but that's certainly how some viewed it. When the character was announced in 2014, his being gay was mentioned as the last of a number of points, and the instant response from some gamers was to act as if we'd called a press conference just to say THAT. 🙄 It was annoying. Still is. Overall, however, the reaction to Dorian was very positive. The number of straight men who said they romanced him still pleases me. The number of fans who privately contacted me who'd been through conversion therapy, some who said Dorian helped them survive? Well. Gosh. 😭 I did write him for Trespasser - though I hear that a late scope cut meant every conversation had been chopped by 1/3rd or more, and that meant a lot of nuance lost. Which is sad, if true, because it sounds like the result of that left some Dorian romancers a bit cold. Such is how game dev rolls. 😔 If you need more proof of how it was hard for me to let go of him, a short story I wrote after Trespasser came out where Dorian has a bit of closure with his dead father: medium.com/@davidgaider... So yeah. He'll always be my boi. And I'll always be thankful Bio gave me this opportunity. ❤️"

[source thread]

User: "I'm not going to lie, it's hard to take my mind off Dorian almost having a monkey." David Gaider: "If by “almost” you mean there was a picture of a monkey that the concept artist put there as a whim, and which would almost certainly have taken more cinematics and modeling time to put in than we could ever afford… then yes. 😉" [source]

[thankskenpenders]

Today we got some news regarding a big change for the Ian Flynn's Q&A podcast, the BumbleKast. As outlined in a blog post by Ian, starting in 2025, all Sonic-related questions submitted to the show will first need to be screened by Sega. (I have to assume this is also why Ian announced they'll no longer be doing live Q&As starting next year.)

Frankly, I can't say this is particularly surprising.

While the BumbleKast is ostensibly a podcast about Ian's work as a freelance writer for all sorts of things, and also just a place for him to shoot the shit about stuff he likes, he's still predominantly seen as The Sonic Guy. Sure, he also does a bunch of other freelance work for other series, and original comics like Drogune, and he's also the narrative mastermind for the whole Rivals of Aether franchise these days, but it's his insights into what goes on behind the scenes with Sonic that people really care about. Your average Sonic fan can't just go up to Iizuka or whoever and ask him a question about the current state of the lore, but Ian's inbox is always open.

Because of this, I've thought a lot about the BumbleKast's place in the fandom and The Discourse in recent years. Ian wants to be as open and honest as he can about his work, and I think that's admirable. To me, hearing about creators' struggles and the shit they go through just to get a story out the door tends to make me sympathize with them more. Sometimes a story just doesn't turn out as well as you'd hoped, but you're on a tight deadline and all you can do is move on to the next project. I've even softened a bit on Penders over the years as he's shared more about the absurd situations and odd creative demands made behind the scenes at Archie. Unfortunately, not everyone has that mindset.

Ian's basically always had obsessive haters who were eager to take everything he says out of context to try and stir up shit, but that used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie comics. Most of the fandom didn't give a shit about what Ian was doing with Sonic and Sally's love life or whatever. Most of the fandom wasn't even reading those comics. But Ian's gone from being a writer for a non-canon spinoff comic, to being the initial lead writer for the first ever canon Sonic comic series, to being the new main writer for the games themselves as part of the official Sonic Lore Team. Way more Sonic fans care about his work now, and when he's so open about his work that makes him an easy scapegoat.

It feels like damn near every week on Twitter Ian's personal trolls have posted yet another BumbleKast clip out of context to rile up the fandom and make it look like he has no idea what he's talking about or like he has some kind of agenda. And, unfortunately, people often fall for this. Of course, it also goes the other way, with people more sympathetic towards Ian taking things he says about Sega and framing them as proof that Sega has no idea what they're doing with the brand. Which, well, let's be real, isn't always the most unreasonable thing to think, given Sonic's rocky history. But I'm surprised it took this long for Sega to start paying more attention to what gets said on the BumbleKast when fans use it so regularly as a source of drama.

I've also often felt that they just need to be WAY more selective about what messages they respond to on the show. Questions Ian can't actually answer due to NDAs, questions that are borderline incomprehensible, "questions" that are really just fan ideas. And the haters, oh, the haters. Ian does not need to put up with angry rants about how he should make SonAmy canon or what the fuck ever. Even if Ian's willing to put up with it, as a listener it can make the show just super unpleasant at times when someone aggressive pops up with an inflammatory question. There have been entire BumbleKast Mini episodes I had to skip because they were just obsessive critics of Ian's paying to grill him on a dozen different things and treat him like an idiot.

But at the same time, I get why the show got to be this way. It's become a part-time job for Ian with multiple new episode a week. Given how piss poor the pay tends to be for freelance writers, I can't really blame him for wanting to keep this secondary stream of income open, and to not have to refund people left and right for rejecting their questions. The man's got bills to pay. (And so does Kyle, for whom managing the BumbleKast seems to have become a full-time job.)

I dunno. The man's got the patience of a fucking saint. I would've quit the franchise if I was in his shoes, with people wishing he would die for shit like minor disagreements over Sonic's characterization or him misremembering an obscure old lore thing. While I do hope that Sega doesn't keep too tight of a leash on him moving forward, and I hope that he's still able to speak his mind about his work, part of me also hopes that having to be much more selective about Sonic questions results in less bullshit like this.

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 ♡⃕ secret santa: percy jackson

▰▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

y/n doesn't like percy, he's in love with her. the best answer percy finds for this situation? be her secret santa for the upcoming holidays.

warnings: none i think ?? cabin 10 reader just for the plot but it doesn't get mentioned that much.

day one

— 10th of december.

it wasn't even halfway through december and everything was already going bad. Apparently, there had been a storm and Chiron thought that it was safer for campers to stay safely in camp instead of going home since he didn’t know what was happening with Zeus for him to suddenly cause the biggest storm of the year.

frankly, y/n thought Zeus was throwing another one of his childish tantrums, but she couldn't say that out loud because knowing the god, he would probably make things worse. That didn’t mean she wasn't pissed about having to stay at camp though, she was.

that's why, after spending her afternoon hiding her discomfort about the situation, she walked into her cabin and went straight to her bed, wanting more than anything to hide away from the rest of the world. She had been so excited to go and spend her holidays with her father, it was the first time she would be having christmas away from her father.

Just as she was going to jump into her bed, she saw the suitcase with the clothes she had been excitedly packing in the morning. However, when she took the suitcase to put it away, something else catched her attention.

left in her bed was a box of chocolates, a ribbon placed neatly on top of it with a note stuck on it. She took it carefully in her hands, eyeing it with a mix of curiosity and surprise.

“i'm sorry you couldn't go home for the holidays, I do hope some chocolates can cheer you up — your secret santa.

P.S. don't worry, I took the white ones from the box since I know you don't like them”

y/n was left surprised, and when she opened the box and found that the person had, indeed, taken the white chocolates out of the box, she even smiled a tiny bit.

well, the circumstances were not ideal for her, but maybe the holidays were not going to be that bad.

day two

- 12th of december

it took two days for her to take it back. The holidays were going to be awful, especially if she was forced to spend another minute with Percy Jackson.

And if it was up to Chiron, she would have to spend most of her time with Percy. So it was going to be awful, no question. They had both been chosen to plan the christmas party, and it had only been a couple of minutes and y/n almost wanted to go and see if she could drown Percy in the lake. That wouldn't have worked, of course, since he could breathe underwater, but she still was inclined to try.

she still didn’t understand why Chiron had paired them together, she could understand if they needed her help for the party, but what exactly could Poseidon's son provide if not unhelpful ideas and stupid jokes?

"the pavillion could use some blue lights" he suggested unhelpfully, because that's what he did.

she, on the other hand, was set on her own vision of christmas "It’s supposed to be red and green! Like a traditional Christmas!"

they ended up doing nothing that day just because they couldn't agree on anything. y/n suspected he was disagreeing with her just to be annoying, which was something that he seemed to enjoy doing.

but when y/n was back at her cabin, her mood immediatly lifted up when she caught a glimpse of a blue sparkly ribbon in her bed. It had been two days since the first gift, and she had been sure it had been a one time thing. Now, she ignored her siblings and went straight to her bed, finding there a plate of cookies with ribbon and another note on top.

“thought you deserved a sweet treat after working so hard today — Secret Santa.

PS. some of them are a little burnt, but I know how much you like choco-chips cookies"

day three

— 14th of december

When Grover walked into cabin three, he wasn't expecting to find Percy trying to wrap a gift, the floor around him buried in wrapping paper.

“are you seriously trying to go on with this?" the satyr asked, though the answer was very obvious. “Chiron told me you were very interested on helping with the christmas party”

well, maybe Percy had begged Chiron to pair him with y/n since he had overheard her telling one of his siblings that she was chosen to plan the party.

However, Percy was not going to admit that to anyone. "I need help with this wrapping paper, it just isn't folding the way I want to."

Grover rolled his eyes as he walked through the discarded wrapping paper. "You adhd people can't do anything."

"sorry, I was too busy saving the world to attend to gift wrapping 101"

turns out, Grover wasn't any better at wrapping than Percy was. He was worse, actually, since he ate the paper when he got nervous. Thirty minutes later, they had half the wrapping paper they started with and a terrible wrapped present.

"so it's us adhd people huh?" percy asked as he raised his eyebrows.

"hey, I was busy saving the world with you." Grover defended himself as he placed the blue ribbon on top, as if that could cover the terrible work he did.

And since Percy couldn't do any better, the next present on y/n's bed looked like someone had wrapped it with their eyes closed. Still, she didn’t care much when she found it later, because she was busy being too excited over the book she had been reading for months.

“I noticed you kept talking about this book, so I figured it was time you got it. Sorry for the wrapping massacre but hey, don't judge a book by its cover, right? Hope this one keeps you entertained until Zeus chills out. — Secret Santa.”

day four

— 16th of december

Percy and y/n had finally made some progress with the decoration, after Percy annoyed her into allowing him to hang blue lights. She decided to go with it and simply have a blue and white decoration for the pavillion.

they didn’t talk most of the times they met, Percy tried to talk to her but she mostly glared at him or ignored him until he eventually grew tired of talking to himself. It was only sometimes that the silence was too much and y/n would make little comments.

"I'm freezing."

"Didn’t think a daughter of Aphrodite could get cold. Isn't that, like, a beauty hazard? You better warm up, or your hair will lose its shine" And y/n would go back to ignoring him again.

or sometimes they would simply argue.

"No Percy, we can't hang seashells on the tree, are you insane?"

"Why not? it adds nautical charm"

"It’s Christmas! we're not hosting a luau. stick to ornaments, Jackson"

Sometimes, she felt like maybe Percy could be only a little bit likeable, maybe he wasn't too unbearable after all, sometimes he was even funny. But only sometimes.

"How can you make the bows so perfect? mine look like tangled fishing nets" y/n herself was caught by surprise at the laugh that escaped her lips when he raised his bow.

"Maybe if you didn’t tie your bows as if you were anchoring a boat, you would have better luck. Seriously, did Poseidon skip teaching basic motor skills?" And he'd always laugh at her remarks, even when she wasn't being that nice.

By the end of the day, she was tired, but she couldn't deny that she was happy, but she was only happy because they had made progress and now the only thing left was to finish decorating the tree.

And her mood got even better once she stood in front of her bed, noticing the new teddy bear that rested against her pillow, a blue ribbon tied around its neck and a few - blue? - candy canes making a heart on its belly.

“Thought you could use a fuzzy friend to keep you company. — Secret Santa.

PS. I know you don't like candy canes, it was just some decoration. Don't worry, you can give them away."

Day five

— 18th of december.

she ended up giving the candy canes to Percy, and she choose to ignore the weird smile on his face when she gave them to him. Still, he explained that, apparently, he loved candy cane and since those were blue, he loved them even more. Weird.

"Percy Jackson, hero of Olympus, reduced to untangling Christmas lights. Truly a humbling sight." she told him as she found him trying -and failing- to untangle the lights for the tree.

"Give me a little credit here, I think i'm almost done." he replied, a candy cane hanging from his mouth as he continued his work. He wasn't nowhere near done.

But y/n left him to it because she was busy sorting the ornaments. She didn’t know when had been the last time Chiron had gone out for christmas decorations, but the ones her and Percy had found on the big house were old.

She took one of the boxes with the blue ornaments she thought looked the best, and carefully carried it toward the tree, trying to avoid the patches of ice that had formed on the ground outside the Pavillion, she had been so concentrated that she didn’t notice what Percy was up to until a snowball hit her shoulder.

"what the hell, Jackson?" she looked at him, dumbfounded, but he only replied with a laugh.

he went to pick up another snowball, but just as he straightened, she hit him straight on the chest with a snowball of her own. "Okay, that was a lucky shot" he shook the snow out of his hair.

"Lucky? please, I'm a natural" she smiled, shrugging simply.

"Natural at being bossy, maybe." He finally threw the snowball in his hand but he missed his target.

that made y/n laugh, her body feeling lighter as she forgot about the decoration for a moment. "Wow Percy, with aim like that, it's no wonder you stick to swords."

Percy, once again, didn’t take her comment as an offense but simply laughed. She could see his eyes shining as he came close and took the box from her hands.

And he didn’t see it because he turned around to place the box near the tree, but she finally let herself smile as she followed him. When they went back to work, the atmosphere between them felt lighter, warmer, as though a layer of frost was beginning to melt.

When she went back to her cabin, there was a gift already waiting for her in her bed. Whoever this secret santa person was -and y/n really wanted to know who it was-, they had already given up on wrapping and instead used blue ribbon on every gift.

this time, it was a blue and green scarf. And she was confused about it until she looked at the note: “heard you have been cold, maybe you could use a little warmth. — Secret Santa”

day six

— 20th of december

"you're placing the lights wrong" she pointed out as Percy tried to wrap the lights around the tree.

Percy turned to look at her as if she had gome mad. "Are you kidding? there’s surely not a wrong way to place lights on a tree." he replied, his eyebrows raising. "Besides, this is creative expression, you should appreciate it."

"it's an assault on christmas trees everywhere." Percy gasped in mock offense, but he finally stopped whatever he was trying to do with the lights.

"Fine. You hang the lights, I'll stand here looking festive." y/n took the lights from his hands, her fingers grazing his for a second longer than they should.

"If by festive you mean that christmas sweater, it's ugly." this time, she couldn't help but smile a little when he gasped again.

"what's wrong with my sweater? it's festive!" he looked down at the red and blue christmas sweater that had little tridents all over it.

"horrifying, you mean." she mumbled as she put the lights around the tree.

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine? I like your scarf, by the way." he replied, and even though he was always smiling, that moment his smile felt different, y/n didn’t want to find out why. "see how easy is to be nice?"

But the mention of her scarf, made her distracted for a moment as she looked down at the blue and green fluffy scarf around her neck. She still hadn't found out who was her secret santa, and since christmas was coming she wanted to know who was behind those gifts, but she had no clue yet.

She had already questioned her siblings, but no one admitted to being her secret santa and if they knew who it was, they didn’t give the name away even after she threatened them. She was sure of one thing, whoever it was, they had help because it wasn't easy to just sneak into her cabin without her seeing them at least one time.

"hey, Percy." she called absentmindedly, looking up from the scarf. "you pretty much know everyone around camp, don't you?"

"yes, why?" he asked, just as distracted as her because he was hanging some ornaments on the tree.

She hesitated, this was Percy. She didn’t like Percy, she shouldn't share anything about her life with Percy. "Nothing, just thinking about how many people will see you with that ridiculous sweater."

Percy snorted. "next time I'll get you one and we can match."

"I wouldn't wear one of those if my life depended on it, Jackson." and who could blame her if she laughed when Percy looked at her offended.

She also couldn't be blamed if, when the afternoon ended, she had an extra pep in her step. It was just because she was excited over her secret santa, it had nothing to do with Percy Jackson at all!

But it did have to do everything with the box with the blue ribbon placed neatly on top of her bed. It wasn't about the gift at all, no. For y/n, it was how thoughtful everything was. And when she opened the box, she knew she'd have to find who her secret santa was.

Because nobody had ever thought this much about her.

The beautiful bracelet full of small charms, as usual, came with a note. “Each charm has a story. I’ll let you figure them out. — Secret Santa”

day seven

— 22th of december

y/n had tried to make sense of the charms, figure the story behind them. She had been looking at the bracelet every moment she could for the past two days, she already knew the charms by memory: a wave, a heart, an apple, a sweater, a book and finally a star.

She thought that maybe, if she figured it out, she could at least get a hint of who his secret santa was. But she couldn't even guess who this person's godly parents was just because the many charms gave her misleading hints.

Shee was looking at it as she walked through camp, ready to meet Percy at the pavillion so they could finish their decoration for the party. She found him already there, waiting for her with a smile that only stretched on his face when he looked at her.

"Ready for today, boss?" she could've sworn his gaze flickered to the bracelet on her wrist just for a moment but then he was walking past her to pick up the box of decorations.

They ended up drinking some hot chocolate while they decorated just to shake off the cold from the day. These past days, y/n couldn't help but wonder if maybe she had judged Percy a bit too hard before, he wasn't as annoying as she made him out to be.

By the end of the afternoon, they were almost ready with their decorations, Percy was hanging some garlands, his back turned to y/n, who was balancing on her toes to hang a sprig of mistletoe above one of the archways.

She stretched as far as she could, grumbling under her breath. "Who even invented the mistletoe tradition? It’s just a parasite plant. And why is it always there at the worst times?"

Percy chuckled, his voice echoing from across the pavilion. "You’re the one who insisted on using it. Aphrodite's influence finally catching up to you?"

"Oh shut up, Jackson," she shot back, standing precariously on her toes. She was about to talk again when the tip of her shoe slipped slightly on the frosted wooden floor.

"Whoa careful!" Percy dropped the piece of garland he had on his hand and rushed to her.

She caught herself before she could fall, but Percy steadied her anyway, his hands instinctively landing on her waist. "Are you good?" he asked, his face closer than it probably needed to be.

She huffed, looking at the slippery floor before her gaze went back to him. "Can we sue Zeus for hazardous working conditions?"

Percy smirked, helping her regain her footing but keeping his hands on her waist just a second longer than necessary. "Good luck with that lawsuit. Let me know how it goes when you present your case to the olympians."

That’s when they both looked up.

The sprig of mistletoe hanging innocently above them. It swayed slightly in the breeze, almost as if it was mocking them. She blinked at it, her mind racing as her cheeks turned pink. Percy, on the other hand, looked frozen in place.

"I- uh," she started, but her words faltered when his gaze flicked down to her lips for just a second too long.

And when y/n noticed, she couldn't control her eyes as they copied his actions, her gaze going to his lips before returning to his own eyes. It took her a second to realize what she was doing, and she immediatly stepped back.

What was she doing? this was percy jackson!

"I think we're done here, don't you?" Percy only nodded, and for the first time, he wasn’t smirking or cracking a joke. He just stood there, wide-eyed, staring at her.

When she got back to her cabin, she was shaken and it wasn't because of the snow at all. She was so distracted with thoughts of Percy that she almost missed the gift waiting for her as she sat on the edge of her bed.

This time, a neatly folded sweater was placed on her pillows. And for a second, it reminded her of Percy, until she shook off the thought and reached for the note placed over the blue ribbon.

"a little bird told me you liked sweaters, this one might add some extra holiday sparkle to your already dazzling style. I just hope you won't want to burn it. — Your fashionable Secret Santa."

day eight

— 24th of december

y/n had stayed in her cabin as much as possible for the past two days. Now that Percy and her had finished with the preparations for the party, she wasn't forced to spend time with him and she planned on keeping it that way, so she avoided him as much as she could.

Yet, she couldn't keep thinking about him. And that's why she decided it would be best to just stay away from him, at least until her infatuation - and she was sure that's what it was, nothing else - would wear out.

So in the morning of christmas eve, y/n didn’t even went to have breakfast with her siblings, instead she stayed late in bed. She had dreamed about percy, again! and now, she was grumpy as she wrapped herself on her blanket.

It was his fault, for making her feel comfortable with him, for making her forget about how annoying he was, for running to catch her without even thinking, for looking at her lips with those eyes! those stupid sea green eyes she had been seeing every night in her dreams for the past two days.

Now, she would stay on her room, away from everyone. It didn’t matter if it was christmas eve, and damn her secret santa! if they wanted to leave something, they would have to do it with her there. Because she wasn't going anywhere.

Well, at least that had been her plan. Until noon when Grover barged into her room, startling her. "y/n we need you at the stables.. is... uh-" he hesitated. "we just need you, can you come?"

She was about to tell the satyr that he should really learn to knock, but since he seemed shaken and she wasn't doing anything but looking at the ceiling, she stood up from her bed and followed him.

She was wearing her pijamas and the sweater that had been gifted to her. It was truly ugly, with christmas colors and little cupids all over it. But she liked it and it wasn't because it reminded her of percy's ugly trident sweater. No. Nothing to do with Percy. She just liked that her Secret Santa had put effort into it.

As it turns out, Grover didn’t have any emergency or reason to take y/n out of her cozy bed, because there was nothing happening at the stables. The Satyr was acting strange and he told her that the pegasi just needed her, but after they were served food, there was nothing else to do but he insisted on her staying there.

"Grover i'm freezing, can I at least go back to take some gloves and a scarf?" she rubbed her hands against her sweater, trying to keep them warm.

"No!" he exclaimed loud enough to make y/n jump away in surprise. Then, he looked over her shoulder and his face relaxed. "I mean, you can just go if you want to, I think the pegasi are fine."

She looked at him skeptically. He was acting strange. But ultimately, she decided it wasn't out of the ordinary for Grover. "okay... I'll see you later?" she replied before she went back to her cabin.

What she didn’t expect when she walked into her cabin, almost running to her bed because she was freezing, was that her secret santa had worked while she was away.

The past week, she had stood in front of her bed opening all kind of thoughtful presents that made her smile, but this time she was speechless at what waited for her.

Fairy lights were hanging from her bedposts, and fresh flowers were placed in a vase on the nightstand beside her bed, but that didn’t compare at all with the gift waiting for her. As she carefully pulled the blue ribbon off, her eyes wandered through the star map. It was pretty, but the note that came with it was beautiful.

"One night at the bonfire, I remember how you looked at the sky and said 'If I ever get lost, I hope the stars lead me home'. This is a map that shows the stars the first time you came home to camp half-blood. The night I met you. — Secret Santa

PS. I know Christmas is technically tomorrow, but this couldn't wait. So happy christmas!"

y/n sat for a long time in her bed, reading the note over and over again. It wasn't until half an hour later that she realized something: Grover had taken her out of her room so whoever her secret santa was could arrange everything. Grover knew who her secret santa was.

She finds out

— 25th of december.

"I already told you, I have no clue what you're talking to me about!" Grover replied, very obviously trying to run away from her.

This had been going on for the past twelve hours or so, Grover refused to tell her the identity of her secret santa, and she had already tried everything to get him to tell her. He just didn’t budge.

She gave Grover a suspicious look as he hurried off, practically tripping over his own hooves in his attempt to get away. For someone who claimed to know nothing, he sure was acting guilty.

But whatever. She had bigger problems right now, like how her heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest every time she read the note. And the star map? It was so thoughtful, so personal. She couldn't stop staring at it, wondering how her Secret Santa could possibly know her so well.

It wasn’t until she was alone in the Aphrodite cabin, looking at her closet while thinking about what to wear to the party, that the pieces started falling into place. She fiddled absentmindedly with the bracelet on her wrist, the charms clinking softly. Her eyes fell on one charm specifically. The book.

She had been so focused on making sense of the charms that she hadn't thought to connect them to the other gifts. There was a book charm and she had been gifted the book she had been wanting. She remembered she had been book shopping with Annabeth when she mentioned that specific book. But it surely couldn't be Annabeth.

Her brows furrowed together, trying hard to remember something from that day. But the only thing she could remember was that Percy had tagged along with them and she had been so annoyed with him, because he kept knocking down books and asking dumb questions and-

A gasp left her lips as the realization kicked in and she had to sit down immediatly, her hand desperately looking for the apple charm. How had she missed it? it had been right in front of her the whole time, the apple and the first time she came to camp.

Her mind wandered back to the note. “The first time you came home to Camp Half-Blood. The night I met you.”

The night she met him. The night Percy and Grover had found her wounded in the woods. The next morning, where Percy had given her an apple and then he had tried to make some joke that only worked to put y/n in a bad mood. He'd brought her to Chiron, and she hadn't thought about it ever again.

But now... now she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Or the bracelet. Or how every single gift felt like it was tailored just for her and connected to him somehow: the scarf after she had been complaining to him about the cold, the christmas sweater after she had teased him about his, the chocolates after that one time Annabeth tried to bring her some and she left the white ones to Percy, the blue candy cane after she had said so many times that she hated it, the chocolate chip cookies she loved because of couse Percy would burn them, the blue ribbon!

Her heart skipped a beat as she replayed every interaction they’d had over the past few days. The snowball fight, the way he’d caught her when she slipped on the ice, the way he’d looked at her under the mistletoe. How she’d sworn he’d almost kissed her.

It was him. All of this time, it had been him. And she had been avoiding him, so torn apart with her feelings that she hadn't realized what was in front of her.

Percy gets a gift back.

— 25th of december

y/n had to beg Leo to help her at the very last minute, but as she walked through the party with a little box in hand, she was glad that Valdez could literally turn trash into beautiful things, because now she had the perfect gift.

And the only thing that was left for her to do was find Percy. It shouldn't be hard, since the pavillion wasn't too big, but she was simply too distracted with her thoughts to find him at first glance. At the end, he was the one to find her when she bumped into someone and he catched her before she could fall. Again.

"Hey, you." he smiled, and now she could see the meaning behind the shine in his eyes. "I see you made it out of your cabin. I thought you were going for the ‘grumpy hermit’ vibe today."

She rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness to them once she looked at him. He even looked surprised when she smiled. "Very funny, I actually wanted to talk to you."

He raised his eyebrows. "whats up?" y/n tried to ignore the way her heart seemed to slow down at how nervous she felt.

Instead, she extended the small box towards him. "I got you a gift."

Percy blinked, looking at her like she had grown a second head. "You did?"

She rocked back and forth on her heels as she looked down on the box, pushing it into his hands. "yes, consider it a... thank you gift."

His fingers brushed hers briefly as he finally took the box, eyeing it curiously. "Thank you? for what exactly?"

"for..." making me happy through the holidays. "oh you know, for helping me with the party and for not being completely unbearable."

She hated how her heart raced when he let out a chuckle. "just what any person wants to hear." he joked, but he was already distracted because he was opening the box.

She had made a point of placing a blue ribbon on top, but he didn’t seem to place the pieces together until he looked into the box. Inside was a bracelet, a simple leather cord with three small charms hanging from it, a star, a seashell and a heart.

He looked up at her, surprise evident in his eyes as he opened his mouth to talk, but she was faster. "I thought you'd maybe want to match." she said, raising her arm, the bracelet on her wrist jingling softly.

he was gaping at her, and for a moment he looked slighly panicked, his eyes darted nervously to Grover, who was standing nearby and immediately pretended to be interested in the food table. He had no choice but to look back at her. "You know?"

y/n opened her mouth to tease him, but the panic in his expression stopped her. Instead, she smiled softly. “Yeah, I figured it out. You weren’t exactly subtle, Percy.”

Percy laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, give me a little credit here, it took you long enough to figure it out." he paused, suddenly quiet. "did you like them?”

It was the first time y/n saw Percy acting shy instead of his usual confidence. “I loved them,” she admitted. “Even that horrifying sweater.”

"i'm just glad you didn’t burn it." he joked, his usual grin back on his face.

Percy looked like he was about to say something else when his eyes flicked upward, she followed his gaze and froze. There it was, for the second time in the week, the mistletoe she hung mocking hee yet again.

Even though it was freezing, her cheeks burned as she looked back at him. "Oh."

"Yeah" Percy said, his voice softer now. “Funny how these things just... appear.”

They stood there for a moment, the noise of the party fading into the background. Percy’s eyes locked on hers, his usual playfulness replaced with something deeper, something that made her chest tighten.

"Well" she said, trying to break the tension, "are you just going to stand there, or—"

He didn’t let her finish. Percy leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was sweet and hesitant but full of meaning. It wasn’t long or overly dramatic. Just a gentle, warm kiss that left her mind spinning. When he pulled back, he was smiling again.

"Well" he said, mocking her as he glanced at the mistletoe again "Maybe it wasn't so bad for you to put that thing there."

She blinked at him, momentarily stunned. Then she scowled, smacking his chest lightly. “don’t push your luck, Jackson.”

And he only laughed.

But as they walked back into the party, side by side, she couldn’t help the warmth spreading through her chest. Maybe Percy Jackson wasn’t so bad after all.

[thetadispatcher]

Strasky glanced at Rook then back to Peter, they were nearly the same person if not for a few minor differences. Strasky knew he couldn't do the same type of work Peter was, nor would he be comfortable with it, but he had a feeling that was just due to his personal experiences. "Sometimes it feels more like I attract troublesome things, but I can live with that." He felt nothing would ever live up to what he'd experienced on PATHOS-II, so he was fine with whatever mess he found himself in. "And there's nothing wrong with being friendly, that's the best way to meet very interesting people." Or in Peter's case it was androids mainly if the home's residents were anything to go by.

But neither Strasky nor Peter felt like speaking on the subject with each other as they both still found it odd and a little unsettling to think they were practically the same person. And Peter had made it clear to Strasky he wasn't ready to approach the subject with how quickly he'd brushed it off and found something to busy himself, something he recognized as a tactic to prevent any possible thoughts on the subject by means of a distraction that took most of his attention.

"Shouldn't be too hard to reformat them so they can operate on an android's brain. I'd just have to see the one first." Peter paused as he noticed Strasky react to what he'd said, something which he felt was a little concerning but he wasn't going to comment on it yet, not until he had more information.

"But I have worked on enough custom and limited release androids to say that building one from scratch wouldn't be an issue." He had managed to get his hands on the equipment necessary to build custom parts for androids, so thankfully he wouldn't have to rely on any outside help from any former Cyberlife employees for the parts.

Dan and Peter both turned to look at Nines when Willow mentioned the authorities, the RK900 glanced at them before his LED turned yellow and his eyes took on a far away look. The LED returned to a calm blue after a moment as he refocused on the two looking at him. "I have found no law that prohibits what is being requested. So the work would be perfectly legal." Nines responded to the unasked question, knowing that was the reason they'd turned to look at him.

"Even if it wasn't, it probably wouldn't be the worst illegal thing I've done." Peter giggled as he turned his attention back to Dan who gave him a knowing look. "Tricking a Cyberlife employee and buying an android at fourteen is probably way more illegal then sticking a digital brain into an android." He smiled at Dan as he hugged the PL600's head, the android gently patting his arm in response.

"He really means a lot... How come?" Strasky asked, he decided it was time he asked as the relationship between the two was clearly familial, but he couldn't figure out just what role Dan fit into in Peter's mind.

"Well, I may call the androids here my friends, I only call two my brothers. Dan is one of them, basically the older brother I didn't know I wanted." Peter answered happily, showing he really didn't have an issue with putting an android into such a special role as most humans would. "Sure, Dan's only four years old, but he's way more of an older brother then a younger one."

Strasky nodded, he knew there was more to the story of how and why Dan was acquired, he just wasn't sure if anyone else cared to know so he decided not to press further. But after all he had seen with the relationship between androids and humans, he was happy to see one where both felt like they were equals.

"Cyberlife has already done something kinda like what you're probably thinking anyways. GV200 looks exactly like Kamski's half brother Gavin, his entire existence was basically being made in the hopes of Gavin running into him and getting upset about it. Which never happened before the company that owned him had him junked, turns out Gavin doesn't travel by plane like Kamiski thought. But I fixed him up, with Kamski's help as the parts were custom and that was my first time dealing with that." Peter sneered at the mention of working with Kamski, Dan had a similar reaction which made it clear the man hadn't made a very good impression with them.

"Getting accused of being the one to make him was not fun... Thankfully, Gavin believed me when I told him who had actually done it so he's only gone off on me for it the one time. Guess I should've known something was up when Kamski showed up after I placed the parts order, but it's hard to tell what the face of an android with no skin looks like until you turn them on." Nines smirked a bit at Peter's mention of Gavin's behavior, showing he had some level of experience with it.

Well, it was good to know they were going to meet even more androids by just being in Peter's immediate vicinity. At least so far only one seemed fine attacking strangers on sight, even though Bishop wasn't too keen on trusting Nines' either after the poor state he showed up in.

And knowing there was another nearly identical more deranged android around they hadn't met yet didn't please Bishop either. So he stood back with his arms crossed, keeping an eye out in case somebody else felt like joining them.

"It's funny, isn't it? You meet a whole new guy, but it's still you!" Rook said while giving Strasky an encouraging pat on the shoulder, "It looks like you guys have a thing for getting in trouble. But it's clear you're good at making friends too."

"Rook is something of an expert on the topic. However, we have more pressing matters to tend to." Willow chimed in, "To answer your question, it will indeed be custom work, but fortunately time isn't a concern."

"Yeah. We just want to know if you can put a construct into an android so they won't be stuck being formless entities anymore." Rook said with a shrug, "Those guys could really use having bodies again."

"You would be paid accordingly, both for the work itself and for the risk of taking part in such a project." A possibly illegal one, though Willow simply glanced at Dan instead of mentioning it out loud, "And we'd be thankful if none of this was mentioned to the authorities, or to Cyberlife, lest they start having more ideas they would come to regret later on."

[archie-sunshine]

Hi hello! I'm a little embarrassed sending these but I've made some doodles for you! I noticed when making up my oc Lift that he had some Meterisms to him so I wanted to draw the two of them together when his design was done!

I had a few ideas and wasn't sure which to choose.. so I did multiple! (My first tiny dip into suggestive/nsfw stuff too, we are killing cringe one mech at a time!)

I am never getting over Meter he is the cutest little thing I need to throw him against a wall or something

EEEEE THEM THEM THEM!!! OMG LIFT IS SO CUTE WAIT HIIII!!!! EEEK they're so adorable they are FRIENDS.

and also more than that considering the sex theyre having.

IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE METER THANK YOUUU!!!

[flightyalrighty]

…I find it lowkey weird when someone says Sonic is bit of bully or mean in your comic.

I know you have him take after Archie and Fleetway, but he feels normal to me?

Or is it because I grew up with Sonic media that had him being abrasive that I got used to it..?

This image of being this -perfectly nice- hedgehog that people get from him kinda makes me wonder constantly, do you know how he was back then?

Would you perceive him the same way if you gotten to known him a bit later excluding the older comics?

SEGA has kept a few things consistent with Sonic and one of them being he was always this dude with an attitude. for better or for worse. That didn't mean he didn't care for anyone, it's just part of who he is. Once you can see past that, you know that despite his meanness, he's a solid guy that means well.

(I got a few asks in a short span of time so I hope I'm lining up the correct follow-up with the original here)

So! Okay. So, here's the thing about Sonic and his whole "attitude" thing. These days, canonically, it's kinda non-existent? Sonic's personality got sandpapered (in the games) until it was nice and smooth for the past, uhhh, like deca -- No, not even. I think he's actually been like this since 2005.

Like sure, he'll make a few lame jokes at Eggman's expense in the Meta Era but like. He's a ray of sunshine to everyone else (besides that one thing they got rid of in the Sonic Gens "remaster" with Amy). He's not even GENUINELY mean to Knuckles the way he used to be. There is no actual beef there, it's really just friendly banter he's having with his friends.

Even more about this below cut vvv

The main sources of Sonic Attitude™ I ever experienced growing up was that little itty bit left within Sonic Heroes and MOSTLY just Archie Sonic (and some STC Online reading I did as a kid) and Sonic X. Make no mistake, Sonic definitely had a range of "Attitude" to "Asshole" in those works. It just wasn't present in the games. So if you were a kid growing up and only knew Sonic FROM the games, that so-called attitude was gonna be minimal if you're age 30 or under.

And any attitude he gave would be only to people he perceived to be enemies (or Jet the Hawk).

Jump forward in time to the end of the Meta era, and we've come to a point in which Sonic is very nice. He's everyone's cool big brother. He's a "friend to all children." The perfect role model. He's very nice in Sonic Prime. In IDW, some fans would even argue he's TOO nice. TOO forgiving. To this I say, it is what it is. I just don't believe Sonic's mean-ness level is all that consistent. Perhaps someday we'll see that attitude again. Perhaps.

Now, to finally address your initial comment: I am the one who says this. I am the one who says he is mean in Infested. And! That's because he's written that way.

This isn't modern nice Sonic, but this also isn't Attitude Guy from the 90s/early 2000s. This is a secret third thing. And by that I mean he's an amalgamation of STC Sonic and Archie Sonic. He's done a lot of learning and growing and he doesn't want to hurt his friends, but his first instinct is harsh, snippy commentary or outright lashing out. He has learned and has to bury that horrible little monster inside him. For Tails's sake.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: All you wanted was for Ben to have a nice Thanksgiving, but when your daughter brings her new boyfriend over, all hell brakes loose! This one-shot takes place in You Call It Madness But I Call It Love universe! Reader is described as "Curvy."

Tropes: Fluff, Awkward Situation Over The Holidays, Bringing A Boyfriend Home For The First Time.

Word Count: 9.1K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Heated Kiss (a few), Sexual Innuendo, Implied Sex, Flirting, References to Sex (it happens quite a bit), Ben loves his wife, Ben REALLY loves his wife. Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). SOFT Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy might be a little OC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: Truthfully this is a lot of fluff and soft Ben, having a proper family Thanksgiving (well sort of). Really, just Ben showing how much he loves his wife... AND I had this completely unhinged idea forever ago, but everyone say thank you to @anna6307 for reminding me to write it. ❤️

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy POV

Ben reaches out his arm to your side of the bed as he wakes up without opening his eyes, but his hand finds cold empty sheets instead of your soft warm body.

His eyes blink open, the light from the open windows at the foot of the bed brilliant as he looks out at the view of the backyard, seeing the peaks of the thick trees that point upwards to the sky and just a glimpse of the sea beyond, sparkling in the early morning light.

It was Thanksgiving, Ben's first since he came back from Russia and despite his numerous insistences that "it wasn't a big deal" you weren't listening to him.

Honestly, what was new? Ben thought to himself with a sigh.

Holidays for him were always bittersweet.

When he was a child and in his teen years he spent the holidays at the elegant parties your parents threw in your family home sneaking eggnog and sips of whiskey from the flask in his coat while the two of you avoided his plastered father, and while he was with you he had a good time, but it was the quiet that came when he went home to the cold shell of his father's house that left a chill behind.

Truthfully, Ben would have just stayed at the boarding schools during the holidays if he hadn't been so eager to get back to you. He liked going to your family's parties, liked standing next to you and taking the brunt of your mother's disapproving glances. When he wasn't there he knew that she turned those looks on you and knew that she was less likely to make a comment about how you looked when he was a worthy target, and he was more than happy to take it, if it meant that he would get to see you smile and enjoy yourself.

Ben didn't care much for holidays, hadn't since his mother died, but he knew how much you loved them and he knew that you had sacrificed that love for them when you came with him to become a supe.

Your mother had banned you from your home the minute you told her that you weren't going to marry Howard and that you were going with Ben, and despite your father's insistences, your mother refused to let you return for Thanksgiving and for Christmas. Which meant that you were left with nowhere to celebrate and nowhere to go for the holidays you loved so much.

Ben did everything he could to make sure that the two of you celebrated in your own way. The early Thanksgivings were spent eating turkey sandwiches in Central Park, while Ben tried his upmost to make you smile, but the later ones were spent at the lavish parties that Legend threw. And no matter how many women tried to pull Ben away from you, he stayed beside you making sure that you were having a good time, but even at those parties you never seemed as happy as you had when you were back home in Philadelphia or when it was just the two of you.

It always made a sick feeling settle in the pit of his stomach, because it made him believe that you regretted coming with him.

But today would be different.

It would be the first Thanksgiving that Ben had spent with you since he left. You told him that Rosemary, Lou, and you always spent the holidays in the house in Maine and Ben didn’t complain. He liked the house and he liked how happy you seemed there, how you seemed to leave any anxiety you had back in the city.

And despite all the other Thanksgivings the two of you had spent at Legend's blowouts soaked with booze, Ben saw that you were genuinely excited and happy this year to celebrate, and it made him feel like he'd done something right for once.

But of all the things that Ben had learned about you after he came back, the fact that you liked to cook and knew how was still astounding to him. Sure, he had some dated ideas about what women's roles were, but when you'd still been a supe with him in the past Ben hadn't seen you cook once. The only time you'd gone into the kitchen in the past was to make coffee.

And hearing that you were going to cook Thanksgiving dinner almost made Ben start to look for pigs flying around outside.

He and you had come to the house in the Maine countryside early to get everything set up while Rosemary, Lou, Ryan, and Rosemary's new boyfriend were coming today to stay for a week. Ryan's school didn't give him the full week off, and Rosemary's boyfriend was working up until Thanksgiving day.

Ben frowned when he thought about Rosemary bringing home a man with her for Thanksgiving. He already didn't like the thought that Rosemary was bringing some random guy around Lou that Ben didn't know anything about and despite Ben not being around for forty years, he didn’t like the thought of some creep dating his daughter. Ben might not have been a huge influence in Rosemary's life, but the thought that some asshole was just screwing around with her made Ben furious. He knew exactly what men wanted from women and like hell some dipshit was going to get it from his daughter.

When he told you that you'd kissed him on the cheek and told him that he was "being cute" and that Rosemary was old enough to make her own decisions. But at least you hadn't seemed too keen on meeting the guy either.

When Ben had asked you if you knew anything about Rosemary's boyfriend, you'd said that Rosemary hadn’t told you too much, wouldn't even tell you his name because she didn't want you to "stalk him" so all you knew was that he worked at Supe Affairs, and that he was nice. Lou had piped up and said that whoever this guy was brought by flowers for Rosie each time he showed up and always made sure to bring Lou a sunflower because he knew how much she liked them.

Ben had tried to get Lou to tell him who this guy was or at least what his name was by bargaining with ice cream, but Lou had refused, said that she "made her mommy a promise" and that she "wasn't a snitch." Ben was proud of her for holding her ground like that and took her out for ice cream, but it didn't make him any less frustrated when he tried to figure out who it was that Rosie was bringing here for Thanksgiving.

Ben was racking his mind trying to remember a moment that he would have seen her and her boyfriend together at work, but Ben hadn't seen Rosemary talking to anyone new at the office, just the team.

Not to mention, Ben didn't want to be trapped in the house with the guy, listening to him rail Ben's daughter. There were moments where Ben wished he didn't have supe hearing, and that certainly seemed like a moment he wouldn't want it.

Rosemary felt the same way of course. She also had supe hearing and had woken up in the middle of the night the last time she stayed with Ben and you at the Maine house and had witnessed something that she said was "grotesque." Personally, Ben was no longer embarrassed about that kind of thing, not to mention he liked how loud you were and how loud he could make you, but you certainly hadn't been able to look your daughter in the eye for a week when you realized exactly what she'd heard.

And then you had made the rule of no sex while Rosemary was around.

Ben hated that rule and it was difficult for him. He didn't like going too long without touching you, not to mention he liked it immensely when you touched him, so last night Ben had tried to get it all out of his system and give you a little bit of stress relief from all the meal prep and cleaning. He hated seeing you so stressed.

Of course the rule also meant that Ben could tease you as long as he wanted to. And that usually lead to you dragging him out to the car to run “errands,” when the two of you ended up parked a few miles away running errands in the front seat of his car.

The window was open, allowing the chill in the wind to creep through the opening, the leaves on the trees beyond were burnished gold, red, and orange, and Ben could hear the crashing of the waves along the rocky shore.

He enjoyed being here as much as you did. Walking along the shore holding your hand, barefoot while the waves lapped at his feet, sitting on the couch in the den with you in his lap listening to music, watching you paint in the screened in back porch that you'd turned into your studio while he read his newspaper, and falling asleep with his body curled protectively around yours pressing kisses into your bare shoulder as you drifted off with a soft smile, holding on tight to the arm that was wrapped around your waist. He didn't think that his life would ever look like this, sure he'd thought about what it would look like to be with you, but he didn't know how he'd gotten it and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Ben turns his gaze to your side of the bed to confirm what he already knew, that you're not there and he sighed.

Ben didn't like waking up without you, he also hated going to sleep without you, but waking up in an empty bed only made him think of all the mornings that he spent away from you, the mornings when he was away on a film shoot and to remedy how much he missed you he called just to hear your voice, other mornings when he'd wake up to a cold bed after whoever he'd slept with had left, and other mornings from his youth where he was away at another boarding school and he missed the weight of your body next to his.

Usually as you slept, you would subconsciously curl into him, and he would wake up with you on his chest, your head over his heart, your left arm curved over his torso to hold him closer to you. He liked that, because even if you woke up before him you didn't move. Instead you would stay there, pressing a kiss over his heart, running your hand up to stroke his cheek, or push his hair back because you know how much he likes it. It was a nice way to wake up.

With you there, smiling at him, looking at him as if he's all you see, as if you can see through him, through bones and flesh into his soul. And you never look away no matter how much you see. You accept him as he is, all the parts that Ben worked so hard to hide from the rest of the world like his father taught him, the other parts that he isn't proud of, and yet you love him.

You'd worn many titles over the years. His best friend, his teammate, the woman he loves, and now his wife. And at every stage, every ascension to a new name place, Ben still didn't deserve you and everything you did for him.

He never had and he knew that he never will. He'd never met someone so happy to love him, so eager to give him all of you even after all the shit he'd done to you, and so excited to spend the rest of your life with him. Ben's eyes drop to the ring on his left hand and he smiles to himself. It had been three months since the two of you stood in front of a small group of people, you radiant in white and holding a bouquet of lavender listening to him make a promise to love you and protect you for as long as he lived and him listening to you promise the same thing. It was the one thing the two of you should have done ages ago, but all Ben cared about was that he had you, that he wasn't going to lose you ever again, and that you were his and wanted to be his for the rest of your life.

And he couldn't have been happier. Ben had never been this happy in his entire life and he knew that it had everything to do with you.

Funny, if someone had asked him in the past if he was happy he would have said yes without hesitation, but now he knew that he wasn't. This was happiness, being with you, spending the rest of his life making up for the past, making you smile, and feeling the unconditional love you had for him each day as you eased any worries he had about expressing too much, when he'd spent his life expressing the bare minimum of emotions that he usually locked away.

But waking up in bed without you made him unhappy.

He frowned and sat up, the blankets falling away from his bare chest with the movement as he looks around the room for signs that you were there, but the bathroom door stands ajar and the bedroom door is cracked open.

Ben focuses his hearing and hears you downstairs banging around in the kitchen. He sighs again.

How long has she been down there?

He thinks with a groan getting out of bed and trying to find his sweatpants. Ben wasn't sure where you'd thrown them when you ripped them off of him last night, but after he finds them halfway under the dresser he makes his way downstairs. His fingers run through his hair, brushing it back away from his face, his bare feet padding down the hardwood stairs.

The smell of turkey, fresh bread, cinnamon, and cloves wafted up the staircase and there was a warmth in the large open kitchen that came from the oven and from the wide open bay windows above the sink where the rising sun bathed the room in a honeyed glow. Ben could see you swaying to music where you stood at the sink, trying to wash some of dishes that were stacked high over the lip of the marble countertops.

You had flour smudged on your right cheekbone, and stuffing in your hair that was tied back from your face with a bandana and you were wearing one of his oversized shirts and the pair jeans that Ben loved on you, the ones that hugged your curves just the right way to drive him crazy.

Truthfully, Ben was happy that you were getting more comfortable wearing things that actually showed your curves again, especially after all the years you'd spent being swaddled in monstrosities of lace, choked by shape-wear, and stuffed into clothes only created to hide the curves that drove Ben mad whenever he saw them. Even in your years as a supe, you'd been hesitant to wear anything form fitting, still feeling the cold disapproval of your mother almost decades after she'd been put in the ground. If anything Ben liked how curvy you were, he liked that you had just a little more that he could hold on to and squeeze.

And like hell Ben was going to let his wife feel insecure in her own body, especially in one that made him feel like he was a damn teenager again whenever he got his hands on you.

There were remnants of potato peels, bundled plastic wrap, and tops of carrots scattered like fallen leaves over the kitchen island. Not one piece of countertop was spared by the destruction of your preparation for Thanksgiving, only sweeping chaos left behind in your wake.

Ben expected that. Your art studio back at the apartment was the same way, and whenever he teased you about it, you'd only roll your eyes at him and say that "there was no point in a creative space without having a little chaos."

The speaker in the kitchen is blasting one of your favorites, "You're All I Need To Get By" by Aretha Franklin. Ben personally didn't like her work, thought that she catered more to a feminine audience, but he knew how much you loved her. He had taken you to a private concert once for one of your birthdays, sat through the entire thing trying not to  grimace, but each time he almost did, he'd look over at you and see how happy you were and he'd smile instead.

You were singing it to yourself, swaying your hips along with the melody in a way that reminded Ben of exactly what you'd done with them last night.

He couldn't understand how he got so lucky and again he wondered how he ended up here with you.

Ben leaned against the doorway to watch for a few minutes, trying not to make a face when you'd screech. You were never the best singer in the world and Ben had been subject to your singing more than once in all the time he'd known you, more often on nights when the two of you would go out for drinks at the bar down the street from your childhood home in Philadelphia. You would belt songs as loud as you could on the drunken walk home, wobbling on your feet, while Ben tried his best to keep you walking in a straight line and keep you steady to avoid you falling on your face and busting your lip open on the curb.

He steps forward into the room, creeping up behind you, reaching out to grab you when-

"If you're trying to scare me that's not going to work." You say, scrubbing at one of the stainless steel bowls in your hand with a scrub brush.

Ben snorts and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. You smelled like him again. "Didn't think you'd be able to hear me over the screeching."

"What screeching?"

"You trying to sing."

"I don't think you're exactly Frank Sinatra."

"Fuck, I miss that bastard. And the Rat Pack, we had some good times-"

"Yes. I remember something about you destroying a suite in Vegas and me sweet talking a cop to get you out of it." You hesitate, pulling your hands out from under the warm water. "Sinatra was quite the charmer, voice like velvet, not too bad looking and-"

"Just like me."

You laugh and lean back into his embrace, while Ben begins to sway you to the music. "I'm not too sure about that."

"Hmm." Ben sighs into your shoulder. "Why weren't you in bed when I woke up?"

"I'm sorry." You turn to kiss him on his bearded cheek, lingering for a minute longer in a way that makes Ben feel his heart thud an extra beat.

"What time did you get up?"

"5."

"Why the fuck have you been up for six hours?"

"Because I had to start cooking."

Ben can see the anxiety thrumming beneath your skin, settling over your shoulders, at the thought of how much you had to do. He didn't like it so he began to press his lips along the slope of your neck, feeling you sigh and relax in his arms as he pulls you closer against his body.

Fuck, you felt good.

You were always warm and soft in all the places that Ben was muscular and hard. You always fit so perfectly against him, in a way that made Ben refuse to believe that anyone else did. You were his in every possible way, had been his in every way since you were kids even if he was too afraid to admit it.

"I had to chop the carrots, boil the potatoes, make the pumpkin pie, stuff the turkey-" You continue with a sigh.

"You've been talking about stuffing that damn turkey for two days. Why don't you let me stuff something for a change?" Ben murmured, beginning to kiss down your throat, and moving his hands that were on your waist up under the oversized shirt you were wearing, trailing over your warm skin.

"You're a disgusting old man." You groan, but Ben can hear the smile in your voice without opening his eyes.

"You knew that when you married me Sweetheart." Ben smirks.

"Unfortunately."

"I think it's what you love most about me."

"No, I'm pretty sure it's how humble you are." You laugh at your joke and Ben squeezes you in response.

Ben moves his hand higher underneath your shirt stopping just below your bra, nibbling on your earlobe. "Come on Sweetheart, I want to have you one more time before Rosemary shows up."

"Ben-" You groan, your hands braced against the counter he'd pinned you against. "I can't I still have to-"

"By the time you finish arguing we could already be getting to the fun part."

You smirk at him over your shoulder. "Maybe I think the arguing is the fun part."

"Oh really?" Ben feels his smirk grow and this time he doesn't stop his hand from reaching past the edge of your bra and you gasp softly.

Ben couldn't get enough of the way you responded to him when he touched you, the sounds you made into his mouth when he made love to you, the little gasps, cries, and moans of his name that he replayed for himself whenever he was away on a mission and the ones he loved to recreate when he returned home to you. "Are you saying that you didn't have fun at all yesterday? Or last night?"

"No-" You say, trying to keep your voice even, but Ben can feel the tremor that courses through your body when the memory of what the two of you did comes roaring back.

"You're lying." He breathes into your throat. "You know I can tell when you lie."

"Ben really-"

Ben fits his lips over your mouth,  swallowing whatever excuse you were going to say whole. “As much as I like you in my clothes, I think it’s time you take this off.��� He tugs at the bottom of your shirt.

"Ben I've still got to-" You try again, but this time Ben begins to suck a mark just under your jawline, next to the other one he left last night.

He liked doing that, as if the ring on your finger wasn't enough, Ben felt a primal urge to mark you so anyone who sees you knew that you were taken, and that you were his. He also knew that you liked it too. He could practically taste how much you wanted him against your lips, could feel it buzzing through your skin everywhere he was touching you. Ben loved that after all these years, he still had the same effect on you.

You sigh, reaching back to tangle your still wet hand in his hair. "You're fighting dirty." You say in a pout.

"By now you should know it’s the only way I know how sweetheart." Ben laughs against your skin, and he can feel your resolve begin to waver.

You groan again, tightening your hands in his hair and pushing your body back against his chest as his hands roam over the curves he loves so much.  "Fine." You mutter in utter defeat. "You get ten minutes, but if anything burns, Benjamin I swear I'm going to divorce you."

"I'd only convince you to marry me again doll." Ben chuckles. "And I only need 7."

*Exactly 27 minutes later*

Reader POV

"I'm going to get the divorce papers as soon as I take this turkey out of the oven! You said 7 minutes Benjamin!" You shout reaching for the oven mitts that you left haphazardly on the counter before Ben dragged you back to the bedroom.

Well, dragged is a relative term given how he carried you up the stairs with your mouth locked with his and your hands tangling in his hair.  And you might have complained about how long the two of you were upstairs, but you don't think that you would ever complain about anything Ben did to you.

You couldn't. Not when you still couldn't quite feel your legs and could feel your heartbeat thudding hard against your ribcage while you tried to catch your breath.

You take a step on shaky legs towards the oven, but Ben intercepts. "Let me do that doll." He gives you a knowing smirk that makes you weak in the knees. "Wouldn't want you to drop it."

"I hate you." You mutter under his breath when Ben reaches in to pull out the turkey, not bothering to put the over mitts on. You didn't need them either, but you liked using the oven mitts, they made you feel normal.

"I love you too sweetheart." He winks as he puts the turkey on top of the crowded stove. "Looks good."

"I love how surprised you are that I can cook."

"You weren't exactly Julia Child before I went to Russia." He says surveying the different foil covered dishes on top of the stove.

"I had to learn how to cook after I had Rosemary, toddlers get kinda hangry if you don't feed them, but Melanie helped. Taught me everything I know. I owe her so much." You smile at the memory of the older woman who welcomed you into her home when you felt so lost after Ben broke your heart and was taken to Russia. The woman who was more of a mother to you than your own flesh and blood. It was Melanie who brought you back from the darkness that threatened to consume you in the wake of what Ben had yelled at you at the premiere after you walked in on him and Countess.

Something that you no longer stung as much as it had. Ben had made it up to you, and despite how many times you told him not to feel guilty over what had happened, and that you had forgiven him, he refused to stop making it up to you everyday. And you'd never been so happy in your entire life.

"I do too." Ben murmurs pulling you close to him again and dragging his fingers over the plains of your face to push back your hair.

You knew that he still felt guilty for not being there when Rosemary was a kid, but you believed that the relationship that he was building with your daughter was making it better. Although it had a rocky start, Ben and Rosemary were getting along a lot better than they had been. You attributed that to how close they were working together, but you knew that Ben was becoming more optimistic about their relationship.

 "And why couldn't Rosemary help cook some of this shit? Why does it have to be just you?" Ben frowns.

“She’s bringing some things. I just didn’t want to make her bring too much because she’s got Ryan and Lou.”

“And that asshole.”

“We don’t know he’s an asshole.” You snort.

“He’s a guy.”

“You’re a guy, Ben.”

He frowns, and you couldn’t help but think that it was cute how protective he was acting. “So? He’s probably some pompous jerk.”

“It’s her life. And trust me, after everything that happened with Charlie, Rosemary is definitely making sure that  he’s not a creep.”

“But why won’t she tell us who the fuck he is?”

You press your lips together into a tight line. You’d also thought it was weird how close lipped Rosemary was being about the guy she’d been dating, but whenever you tried to bring him up she refused to talk about him. You didn’t understand why she was being so secretive, but the last time you'd asked her why she wouldn't tell you she said that she didn't want you to "scare him away."

Honestly, it's like she thinks I'm Ben or something. And I was nothing but supportive about Charlie and look what happened to him!

But you trusted her to make a good decision, figured that everything that happened with Charlie made her more wary about who she fell into bed with.

You fight the wave of nausea when you think about Rosemary having sex with her boyfriend.

Please let them not have sex in the house.

You think with a shudder.

The last thing you wanted to hear was Rosemary and her boyfriend having sex in the bedroom next to Ben and yours. It had been embarrassing enough when she heard Ben and you the last time, before you instituted the rule that Ben barely followed.

To be fair you hated that rule as much as he did.

 Of course, you knew they were sleeping together. Whenever she'd come home late from a date and practically floated into her apartment on nights Ben and you babysat, you could smell him all over her.

What was even weirder was that the smell was familiar, but you couldn’t place it.

But you liked seeing how happy she was, she deserved that after everything that happened with Charlie.

“I don’t know, she probably doesn’t want to say so you won’t show up and do whatever this is that you're doing." You reply.

"And what the fuck do you think I'm doing?"

You smile and pinch his cheek, making his frown deepen. "Being absolutely adorable."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? You are. I love it that you're going full protective dad mode." You smile.

"Don't tempt me doll."

"Oh baby." Your smile turns more into a smirk, working your hands up his bare chest and feeling a groan vibrate through the palms of your hands. "We both know how much you love it."

Ben's eyes darken in a way that reminds you of exactly what the two of you had just been doing that almost resulted in the burning of the turkey.

You arch up to kiss him, but right before your lips touch his, you pull back. "Go get dressed. I'll be up in a bit to change before they get here-"

"I was going to wait for you to do that." Ben's eyes are still dark when you turn to the stove to find the meat thermometer.

"Why?" You ask leaning over the turkey to inspect it.

Ben pulls your body back into his. "Because I figure you're going to need a shower and I thought we might as well save some water."

"You're insatiable."

"Only for you sweetheart." Ben's lips press against your ear, the warmth of his breath making goosebumps skitter over your arms. "We both know how much you love it." He murmurs using your own words against you.

One of these days, he's going to make me spontaneously combust.

But you did love it. You loved every minute you spent with him, loved the way he looked at you, loved the way he touched you, and loved the way Ben made you feel loved. The way you imagined this life with Ben when you were younger, was nothing compared to the real thing.

"Give me thirty minutes." You whisper kissing him once more.

"I'll be waiting."

Reader POV

You fidget with the collar of the oversized black sweater, hoping that the edge is thick enough to cover the collection of marks on your neck that Ben left behind, while listening to the car come to a stop at the end of the long driveway outside the house.

Ben catches your hand to pull it away from the top of your sweater. "Why bother hiding it Sweetheart?" He purrs with a smirk, his dark hair still wet from the shower and hanging into green eyes that shine with mischief. Just as they did when you were kids, and even after all of these years, it still does the same thing to you. It still makes your heart beat an extra beat, still makes a warm tingle travel down your spine, and still makes your chest just a little tight.

"Because I'd like to not be covered in hickeys when I meet Rosemary's boyfriend for the first time."

He shrugs. "It's not like Rosemary doesn't know what we were doing before she showed up. He might as well learn early. And you never try to cover the marks you leave on me-"

"Because most of the ones I leave on you aren't as visible when you're wearing this many clothes." You roll your eyes, but give his hand a squeeze where it still holds yours. "And aren't I a little old to be having hickeys?"

"You're never too old for something like that doll." Ben leans down towards you, the mischief flickering into something else, morphing into the love that he'd shown you the minute he came back into your life. "Especially not when you keep me young."

"Well, you are older than me."

"Only by a few months."

"It makes all the difference. How does it feel to be old and rickety?"

Ben chuckles under his breath. "You didn't think I was old an rickety earlier."

The front door knob jiggles, stopping whatever you were going to respond with when Lou comes running into the room like a shot out of a cannon.

“Grandpa!” She crows and runs past you to leap into Ben’s arms.

As adorable as you thought it was how much that Lou loved Ben and how much Ben loved her, you couldn’t help but be a little bit jealous that Lou didn't say hi to you first. But the look on Ben's face when he hugs his granddaughter back makes all of that go away.

You remember how afraid you were to tell Ben about Lou and Rosemary, but each time you saw how genuinely happy Ben was to spend time with his granddaughter made your heart feel like it would burst. Because all you saw was the man you loved and the boy you grew up with. There wasn’t one shred of the persona Ben adopted as Soldier Boy and it made you love him more.

“Hey Louie.” Ben smiles picking up Lou so he’s not bending down. “How’s my favorite girl?”

“I missed you Ben!” Her little arms hug around his neck tight.

“Guess she didn’t miss me.” You mutter under your breath giving Ben a pointed look.

He only smirks at you over Lou’s shoulder.

“I missed you too grandma!” Lou says, her own supe hearing picking up what you whispered. “I just figured that Ben needs more hugs.”

“And why is that?” You laugh.

“Because you’ve been here longer and Ben has missed out on so many.” She reasons hugging Ben tighter.

The look in Ben's eyes when she says that shifts to something softer as he holds her close to him, hugging her back as tight as he dares. “Thank you honey.”

Ryan comes in next, holding a brown paper bag that must hold the sides that you asked Rosemary to bring with her, but she and her boyfriend still haven't made an appearance in the kitchen.

"Hey grandma. Happy Thanksgiving." Ryan smiles. "Where should I put this?"

"Just on the table is fine, but can I have a hug. I'm feeling a little left out." You joke throwing another glance at Ben and Lou.

Ryan hugs you half-heartedly. He was getting into his teen years, so things like hugs were always going to be a little awkward for a while, but you didn't care.

You liked that he was adjusting to his new life. He'd made a few friends at the school he attended, and Butcher would come by to make sure that Ryan was still doing his homework and to hang out with him.

You felt a little bad that Butcher would be spending Thanksgiving alone, you'd asked Ryan to invite him to come with them so Butcher could have a place to go, but Ryan had said that Butcher had "plans" and you'd missed the smile that Ryan hid when you turned away.

"Where's Rosemary?" You ask him when he pulls away.

"She's getting the bags."

"And you're not going to help her?" Ben raises an eyebrow at the teenager.

"But she's a supe-"

"That doesn't matter, go on." Ben nudges his head in the direction of the front door, a stern look on his face.

"But-"

"Don't argue with Ben." You say, gently pushing Ryan towards the door.

"Fine." Ryan mutters.

"I can help too Grandpa!" Lou cries, squirming so Ben knows that she wants to be put down.

"No sweetie." Ben puts her down, but she keeps a tight hold on his hand. "The only thing I want you to worry about is giving your grandma a hug."

Lou grabs on to you so tight that you're sure there's a bruise somewhere, but you don't care. You love your granddaughter even more than Ben, which was saying a lot, and Ben didn't need to know that.

I mean… he already knows.

"Happy Thanksgiving Grandma." Lou breathes.

"Happy Thanksgiving baby." You say, holding on to her.

You were happy to see your granddaughter, but you could feel the thrum of anxiety beneath your skin. You were a little nervous about meeting Rosemary's boyfriend. Maybe it was because you knew absolutely nothing about him, but for some reason it was making you more anxious than making a giant dinner for your entire family.

"Hey mom. Hey Ben. Happy Thanksgiving." Rosemary smiles at the two of you, holding a giant multicolored cornucopia of flowers. You'd told her that you wanted a centerpiece and despite being an artist for most of your life, Rosemary was better at merging together different flowers and textures to create truly awe-inspiring centerpieces.

You didn't know she did it, but each time she managed to surprise you with something that altered your brain chemistry.

"Happy Thanksgiving." You pull her in for a one armed hug. "Wow you've really outdone yourself with this one." Your eyes skate over the Sunflowers, red Daisies, orange Mums, and dark blue delphiniums in her other hand. There was a strong smell of cinnamon in the air, coming from the looped cinnamon sticks that she had woven in around the blooms.

"Thanks." She beams.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Ben asks, leaning against the counter. He'd be the picture of casual if you couldn't see the frown on his face, that he didn't even bother to hide.

"He's helping Ryan with the bags." She steps around you to move the centerpiece into the dining room, squeezing Ben on the arm as she walks past.

It makes you smile to yourself. Rosemary and Ben still had a long way to go before she was up for hugging him, but you could see that she was trying to get more used to him being around. You think that Ben marrying you helped. Not that Rosemary was old fashioned, but you think it solidified something in her head that Ben wasn't going anywhere and that he wasn't going to leave you again. You also think that Rosemary seeing the gentle way Ben was around Lou helped too, that Rosemary saw another side of him other than the side she'd seen in all those ridiculous movies, music videos, and pictures of Soldier Boy she'd seen growing up.

But you could also see the way it was making Ben feel better. When they first met he had been so discouraged by that way Rosemary treated him, but now when they spent time around one another you could see how happy Ben was and it warmed your heart.

You wanted Ben to feel like he belonged, it was his family too, not just yours. And every day you saw how Ben was starting to believe that more and more.

Ryan comes back into the room, loaded down with bags, but the man who comes in through the front door behind him isn't Rosemary's boyfriend, it's Billy Butcher.

He stops just inside the doorway, looking from you to Ben with an odd expression, as if he's not sure what to say.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Ben frowns at the man.

Ben barely tolerated Butcher, after missions he would come home and complain to you about something that Butcher ordered him to do. Personally you never thought that Butcher had Ben do anything that sounded like something Ben should complain about, but you knew that Ben had always had a problem following orders.

Weirder still was that Ben often said when he exploded on Butcher, it was Rosemary who would step in to try and calm Ben down. You didn't know why that was.

Honestly, you didn't hate Butcher, but you were wary of him. You thought he knew too much about your family and were often worried that he would sell all of you out for the right price. It did make you happy to see Ryan so happy with Butcher, but you weren't sure if you could trust him. He was one of the only people who knew what Lou could really do, one of the only people who knew what your power really was, and one of the only people who knew that Lou was the one who took down Homelander.

But at the same time you were happy that he was there. He was the closest connection that Ryan had to his mother, and you were glad that Ryan could have another person in his life who loved him. You'd seen what had happened with your own son and what happened to him when no one loved him. And you didn’t want that to happen to Ryan.

You elbow Ben hard in the stomach.

"What'd you do that for?" Ben asks.

Butcher clears his throat to say something, but you speak before he can.

"Please ignore Ben. I'm so glad you decided to join us. I was worried that you were just going to spend Thanksgiving holed up in your apartment. Ryan always talks about you when you're not here."

"Uh-" He clears his throat again and it's the first time that you’d ever heard him sound nervous.

You smile widely to make him feel more comfortable, taking his awkwardness as a reaction to what Ben said. "It's a good thing too, because I think I made way too much food."

"Right." Butcher clears his throat. "These are for you." He holds out a large bouquet of Lavender wrapped in crinkling brown paper towards you.

"Oh wow. Thanks." Surprise flits across your mind when you try to reason why Butcher brought you flowers, but you still take them. Ben seems to also consider this because, he frowns at the flowers as if he's debating whether or not to throw them away or if he should take it as a threat.

"Rose said they were your favorite." Butcher cracks an awkward smile.

The nickname makes you pause.

Rosemary hates it when anyone else other than us calls her by a nickname…

"And this is for you." Butcher holds out a bottle of whiskey towards Ben, who takes it, also confused by Butcher's sudden generosity.

"Thanks." Ben grunts, but he doesn't smile.

"You didn't have to bring us anything." You look down at the flowers, inhaling the fragrant blooms. "I mean, the invitation out here for Thanksgiving was not contingent upon gifts."

"I thought it was a good idea." Rosemary says, reentering the room with Lou following behind her. Butcher glances at her like a lifeline.

"Why?" You ask hesitantly.

A sick feeling begins to bubble in the pit of your stomach. You had a sneaking suspicion of where this was going, but you were still holding out for a miracle.

Ben looks past Butcher towards the front door of the house, looking for the boyfriend who was supposed to be getting the bags out of the car, but no one appears in the doorway. "How long does it take to get bags out of the car? Is your boyfriend hiding outside like a fucking pussy or something?"

Rosemary steps even closer to Butcher and this time she takes his hand.

Oh. My. Fuck.

"No. He's right here. Mom, Ben, You guys both know Will." She smiles up at him the same way that she used to smile at Charlie, when she was head over heels and nothing could drag her away. Her whole heart open and you can see the flicker of the same feeling reflected in Butcher's eyes when he glances at her.

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, the awkward silence hanging over you all like a anvil choosing a target.

If Rosemary had come in here and announced that she was pregnant with an alien's baby you would have been less surprised than what she has just admitted. It was so far out in left field that you felt half-way to China. You had no idea how on earth this had happened or why it had happened.

There's a high pitched cracking noise, followed by an audible smash, as pieces of what was the whiskey bottle rain down from Ben's hand. He'd crushed the whole thing by just flexing his fingers.

"Surprise!" Lou grins ear to ear, swinging from Butcher's other hand, unable to read the room.

There's an awkward silence hovering over the room in the wake of their confession. Honestly, you're not sure what you’re feeling. Sure, you felt a little bit betrayed that Rosemary kept it from you for so long, but the feeling racing through your veins was unnamable.

"Lou go upstairs with Ryan." Ben growls in a low voice.

You had no idea how to respond to this. The only voice in your head was screaming "WHY HIM?"

Because really, why Billy Butcher?

"But-"

"Listen to Ben sweetie." You say in a tight voice, your eyes not leaving Butcher and Rosemary.

Rosemary's smile falters for a minute, as Lou goes up the stairs and no one speaks again until you hear her bedroom door close.

"No." Ben states calmly, wiping his hand with one of the dish towels.

"No, what?" Rosemary asks confused. She's still holding on to Butcher's hand, who looks as confused as she does.

"No. You're not allowed to date this British Fuck!" Ben shouts.

"Calm down mate-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" He takes a step forward and you hold out your arm to stop him. The heat of his skin is burning through his clothes where your arm makes contact with the front of his shirt. "And get your hands off my fucking daughter!"

"You cannot tell me what to do Ben! I am a grown woman and-"

"I don't give a single fuck. You're not going to date this Son of a Bitch." Ben's eyes narrow, pointing with one finger.

"And I don't give a single fuck what you say! I'm forty years old and you don't get to tell me who I can and cannot date." She shouts back.

"I am your father-"

"You're just the guy who got my mom pregnant!"

"Hey!" You shout interrupting the retort that is about to come out of Ben's mouth. "We're not going back to that."

"But he's being absolutely-"

"Rosemary." You clear your throat, interrupting her. "How long?"

"I don’t see why that matters-"

"How long?" You say again, interrupting her.

"Four months." Rosemary replies.

Butcher still looks like he's unsure what to do or what to say.

"Four months…" You nod methodically, and then you lose your last shred of composure. "Four MOTHER FUCKING MONTHS?!" You shout. "Are you insane?"

"Mom-"

You hold up a hand. "No. No. You had your chance. You've been sneaking around with William Fucking Butcher for four months! Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I knew you would react like this."

"React completely justified to finding out that you're dating the guy who has killed countless people and tortured others to-"

"Look who's talking!" Rosemary spits.

Ben's body goes taunt next to you and you can practically feel the air heat with the force of his anger.

"Don't you turn this around on Ben!" You snap. "We're not discussing him right now. We're discussing you and him." You make a wild gesture at Butcher who looks even more uncomfortable now that you've started shouting.

Probably was just expecting Ben to freak out.

"I don't care-"

"Well that appears to be seen." You sigh heavily and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying very hard to make the images of Butcher and your daughter rolling around in bed together dissipate.

They weren't and there were so many.

"I can't believe that you did this. That you're-" You can't even get the words out of your mouth.

"Will you just listen to me for one fucking minute?!" Rosemary screams over you.

"Don't talk to your mother like that!" Ben seethes.

"And don’t you talk to Rose like that you arrogant wanker!" Butcher mirrors taking a step forward.

"That's it!" Ben tries to step around you, but you shift to intercept.

"You're not going to kill him in my kitchen." You say to Ben.

"Thank you-" Rosemary begins to say.

"Let's take him outside and kill him there." You continue.

"Good idea sweetheart. Less mess." Ben agrees.

"No!" Rosemary is now standing between Ben, you, and Butcher, shielding him from the two of you. "I love him and I'm not going to let you touch him!"

Her words make you freeze.

Sure, Butcher was hot and sexy in a rugged unwashed sort of way but you'd never believe that Rosemary had fallen in love with him. You weren't even sure that Butcher was capable of falling in love with anyone else after everything that happened with his wife and yet here he was standing in your house, in your kitchen, holding on to your daughter's hand, looking into your daughter's eyes as if he had fallen for her.

Since Charlie, Rosemary hadn't been on one date, hadn't spoken about anyone or made a comment about someone that she met at work. Before Charlie, Rosemary had only had a handful of dates. He was her one big love, the one that she fell head over heels for, the one who swept her off her feet, and then shattered her heart.

You had not once seen Rosemary look as happy as she did in the years since Charlie, except on nights that she spent coming home from a date with Butcher. You wanted her to be happy, you wanted her to find the same love that Ben and you shared, you wanted her to find someone who understood her completely the way that Ben understood you.

"Mom." Rosemary breathes. "You once told me that love shouldn't be a burden or something that I'm ashamed of. That it's not prideful or selfish, it's about giving pieces of yourself to someone else and receiving pieces of them so the two of you become something wonderful together." She sighs. "I spent months pushing Will away because I didn't want what happened to me before with Charlie to happen again. I-"

Butcher's hand finds hers when he senses how upset she is, and the motion makes your throat thick, but you let her keep talking.

"I thought that I was in love with Charlie, that he loved me, but I wasn't. And when Ben came back I struggled for a long time to understand why you let him back in after everything that happened, after he said those things and did those things to you. But then I fell in love with Will and I understood." She looks at Butcher with a half-smile. "I love him. And sure maybe he annoys the shit out of me and maybe he has the maturity of a teenage boy and-"

"You're not exactly making me feel better love." Butcher murmurs.

"And maybe he's not the most patient man in the world." She snorts with a shake of her head. "But I love every part of him, even the parts that make me want to throw him out the window. And I understand now why you couldn't let Ben go. Because I'm not going to let Will go. And if the two of you hate that, then it's too damn bad. Because he's not going anywhere."

"I'm not." Butcher re-affirms. "Even if the two of you throw me out I'm going to keep coming back."

"Like a damn cockroach." Ben murmurs under his breath. He'd drifted closer to you, so close that you could feel the warmth of his body against your back, a comfort right now.

"Exactly." Butcher flashes a shit eating grin.

You can’t help but respect him for that. His confidence in the face of certain death was admirable, and you could see some of the traits that Rosemary found so lovable. In fact, you could see a few of them in the man you loved with all your heart.

The four of you stand in complete silence listening to the what she just confessed, her words still ringing in the air of the warm kitchen.

"Mommy can we come down yet?!" Lou shouts from upstairs.

It breaks through the awkward tension and makes you smile.

"Fine." You say after a minute, extending your hand towards Butcher.

He takes it surprised, his other arm wrapped around your daughter's waist.

You yank him forward. "But if you break her heart, I'm going to make you wish you were never born. Understand?" You smile as widely as you can, with Ben glowering over your shoulder for effect.

"Yes ma'am."

When they go upstairs to put the bags away you sigh heavily and lean back against the counter, your head spinning. Ben is almost deathly silent, watching the two of them go, with an unreadable expression.

"What?" You ask him.

"Nothing." He shrugs, his dark hair falling forward into his face. "Just thinking of all the ways I can kill him if he breaks her heart."

"Good. We can make a list together and compare notes."

"And just when I think I can't love you anymore, you go ahead and say something like that."

"It’s a gift." You snort, placing your hand over Ben's heart and looking into his green eyes. "Well, I wanted your first Thanksgiving back to be memorable, but I didn't expect it to be like this."

"Honestly, I thought that it would end in a fight."

"The day is still young."

"It wouldn't be a normal day for us without a few surprises."

"I hate to admit it, but you're right."

"Always am."

"No you're always full of sh-"

Ben pulls you in for a kiss, his hands curving up over your hips, thumbs brushing beneath the hem of your shirt against your skin. "Happy Thanksgiving Sweetheart." He murmurs into your mouth.

"Happy Thanksgiving Ben."

A/N: Again, just a little holiday fluff from the fam!

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[tenebrius-excellium]

This is an incredibly uncomfortable post (because I love Toothless and want to keep loving him), albeit on a topic that we might finally need to have a conversation about.

Toothless is very sure of himself because he is naturally powerful. He knows he's the special one. He knows he's the king of dragons even before the sequels or the show, and he enjoys that humans fear him. He doesn't really defend other dragons or people except for Hiccup and the ones Hiccup specifically asks, pleads or commands him to. He only kinda ever reacts to things when it's Hiccup's life on the line or when something is important to Hiccup. He assumes power in an almost lax way, but not even because he feels much responsible for his fellow dragon or anything... he only steps up to a larger dragon or political dilemma, if Hiccup gets hurt when he doesn't do it.

As a predator animal, Toothless, on his own, mostly chills. Because he can. Nothing attacks him. He doesn't know what it feels like to fear being hunted, because usually, he is the hunter. But that in turn means that Toothless doesn't have a whole lot of natural compassion. He cannot really be bothered by other people's or dragons' issues, because he is not directly being affected himself.

I believe Toothless never encountered the meaning of true kindness until Hiccup shot him down and he was suddenly at the mercy of someone truly good. I believe Hiccup's goodness humbled Toothless to a degree, causing him to become fascinated with it, because in Toothless' world, there exists only the law of the stronger dragon. And he is the strongest.

So to meet Hiccup must have opened up a whole new worldview to Toothless the Night Fury, the proud Unholy Offspring of Lightning And Death Itself. For the first time, he realizes: "Oh, physically weak creatures require kindness to get along., and that works better than intimidation." It was only sudden physical weakness that caused Toothless to become a limitedly social creature, aware of something like right and wrong. He was always the abstract other, a lone wolf, equipped with incredible strength that alienated him from his peers because he couldn't fathom needing grace or help.

But Toothless then proceeds to cling to Hiccup as if Hiccup is the only thing preventing him from forgetting kindness again. Stoick, Astrid, Hookfang and the Skrill would all have bitter feuds with Toothless until death if it wasn't for Hiccup standing between them.

The not-so-pretty truth here seems to be: Toothless is a bully without Hiccup, because he's never had to think beyond himself without Hiccup, even AFTER their friendship blossomed. Toothless keeps struggling with looking after others and with caring about someone other than himself. He is only capable of tolerating those that Hiccup instructs him to. That's mere basic consideration for others.

But one thing Toothless knows: He needs Hiccup to keep him in check like that. He wants Hiccup in his life more than he wants to be the most powerful creature, because Hiccup is GOOD. And so he asks Hiccup to ride him again WITH the prosthetic fin in Gotnf, lest his regained independence will make him unkind and asocial again.

The missing tailfin is, unfortunate as it seems to be, the only thing which keeps Toothless, who perceives himself to be the deserved lion among dragons, kind. And he knows it and has the sense to admit that he is actually in constant need of this reminder.

Because Hiccup is the only one who ever overpowered him in an even battle, fair and square, Hiccup is his conscience.

I like to think the rest of Berk, kinda continue to be wary of Toothless. They like him, they know he’s not going to hurt them. But they also know the only reason for that is Hiccup. These people have grown up not even knowing what a nightfury looks like. All they know is that you do not engage one, you don’t try to kill it, you hide and you pray. They know that when that scream is heard, something is getting destroyed, every time. Because it does not miss. They know the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. And they know Toothless is capable of all of that. Toothless is that. So while they get used to the dragons being around, the nightfury is always going to be a little different. It always was.

But they’re all nice to Toothless. Because who could dislike him, and because he’s Hiccup’s dragon. And maybe a bit, because they really do not want to end up on the bad side of the nightfury. When he’s with Hiccup - which fortunately, he is most of the time - it’s alright. But no one want’s to be alone with the nightfury. He’s different then. He’s a bit colder. A bit more distant. They can tell they’re being tolerated. Even the rest of the riders, while Toothless does like them, have a healthy amount of…let’s just call it respect, for Toothless.

And Hiccup pretends he has no clue. If someone ever mentions how Toothless’ entire presence can change when Hiccup is gone, he’s just like ‘What? This little guy? Scary? Please.’ But he’s very much aware. He also knows that sometimes Toothless does it on purpose. And maybe, he doesn’t mind that. Maybe he kind of likes it. Maybe he likes for people to remember what kind of a being they’re dealing with and what he’s capable of.

[klausysworld]

Apart of the Family

Loving Elijah Mikaelson wasn't an easy thing.

He pushed me away the entirety of the start of our relationship, he wouldn't talk about his feelings or his thoughts. Sometimes he thought breaking up would protect me from him and his family.

If I hadn't loved him so much then I would have left but I couldn't help but stay. We met in Mystic Falls when he was there to deal with Klaus and avenge his family. I had thought he'd left when Klaus daggered him so I was so happy when Damon woke him back up.

He came to my house even before getting his haircut to see me and he ended up staying the night before having to leave with plans to wake his family.

Rebekah didn't like me much to start out, none of them trusted me or wanted me in their house but that didn't stop Elijah from coming to mine. But if he wasn't with them, looking after them 24/7 like a father figure then they all started to fall apart.

He started to pull away again, so I had to confront the Mikaelsons myself, which was admittedly terrifying but overall worth it when Klaus's eyes shimmered with respect and I got to shove past Rebekah and up the stairs of the mansion. Elijah was practically feral after listening to me stand up to his siblings.

His mother liked me, although I'm not really sure if that should be taken as a compliment or an insult. Elijah liked it though. I think he's always sought approval from his parents.

He was distraught when he found out his mother planned to kill them. More broken then any of his siblings could ever know. He made me promise not to tell them that he'd been sobbing into my chest for over two hours that night.

We left for a little while, Elijah needed some time and I jumped at the chance of having him alone for a little while before he was inevitably called back.

We'd been living such a domesticated life We had our own house, yard, stupid white-picket fence.

Even though I knew it was impossible, I started to dream of having his child. I knew he'd been the perfect father, he had a thousand years worth of practice.

I could imagine if we had a son, he'd be all dressed in his little suit with his hair combed neatly. Elijah was just perfect, but he couldn't have children so I wouldn’t either.

I thought I was happy with that, until I found out that Klaus was having a baby.

It wasn't fair. He didn't even want a child and neither did Hayley. Elijah was the only reason the child stayed alive and Klaus still daggered him.

"I promise you, I'll bring him home." He told me when I'd found out he wasn't even in the house somewhere but under Marcels mercy.

"Klaus." I whispered, I could feel my eyes getting wet with tears and he sighed.

"I wouldn't let him get hurt. I know you think I'm selfish and I use my brother...to an extent that's true, but I do love him and I know that you do. He'll come back and I'll undagger him before the baby is even born." He promised and I didn't have much room to argue. Instead I just went back upstairs.

Even Rebekah came which was a nightmare. I don't know what her problem was for me but somehow my favourite Mikaelson in that house was Klaus.

Until Klaus finally brought him back.

I didn't care that Rebekah was pissed that I got to hug him first, I refused to let him go and he didn't seem to be budging much either. I could feel his face nuzzling my neck as I breathed in his scent.

"He made us stop at a suit shop on the way over, he refused for you to see him all dusty and-"

"That's enough, Niklaus. Just leave us be." Elijah muttered and I sighed in relief at the sound of his voice.

By evening I was snuggled up to his bare chest, his hands on my back as he pressed a series of kisses to the top of my head.

"I love you." He mumbled and I smiled, he didn't like saying it often. He worried it would lose it's meaning.

"I love you too." I whispered, wanting nothing more than to lay with him forever.

Things got better and worse from then.

Everything was Klaus centred again of course. When wasn't it?

But I did feel bad for him, to have to go as far to fake his child's death. It was the first time I'd ever hugged him, I could feel his tears on my neck as he tried to sniff them back. Elijah was looking at me from across the room, a slight nod to his head as he finished the phone call with Rebekah.

Things were quiet after that.

But then everything went wrong again, Esther and Mikael came back. Elijah's 'Red Door' opened and he almost suffocated me in his sleep.

He wouldn't touch be for almost a month, not even hold my hand, it was torture. It took a very hash breakdown and a really long cry for him to finally wrap his arms around me and apologise.

It was really hard for a while, but seeing him with Hope in his arms did something to me. It broke me.

That was when Rebekah finally realised we weren't that different. She sat with me on the bathroom floor whilst I sobbed over not being able to have his child and we stayed there until Elijah came in and found us. I wouldn't tell him what was wrong and ended up leaving for a a few hours but it was obvious that Rebekah had spoken to him about it by the time I got home.

He welcomed be back into his arms and he held me tight, caressing my arms and my back before finally breaking the silence.

"I truly refuse to believe that with the amount of magic in this world, that there is no possible chance of me being able to give you a baby." He whispered and I sniffed.

"You're dead Elijah, your sperm is dead." I mumbled and he ran his fingers through my hair.

"Witches bring people back from the dead, I think they can revive a couple of my swimmers." He chuckled and I let out a half cry/half laugh.

"You really think that?" I whispered and he kissed the side of my face.

"I'm at least going to try." He murmured.

It wasn't really mentioned again for a while so I assumed that it had just been a fleeting idea to calm me down.

That was until I walked into our room and found it covered in candles and rose petals. Elijah was stood in a fresh suit, his hands clasped together with a rose between them.

"What..." I mumbled and he let out a shaky breath.

"I found a witch." He stated and my brows pulled together for a second before the realisation washed over me.

"You did?" I whispered and he nodded. I dropped my bag down and made my way inside, standing in front of him and taking the rose from his hands, placing it down on the vanity. "Are you sure that it'll work?" I asked and his lips twitched.

"There's only one way to find that out." He murmured lowly, his umber eyes bleeding into obsidian.

I reached up to carefully undo his tie, my fingers unloosing the fabric in the way he liked to do it so that it wouldn't stretch or 'fold funny'. I pushed his blazer down his shoulders and rest it over the chair before reaching up to undo each button one by one. I made sure my fingertips brushed over the firm muscle of his chest before pulling the shirt off his arms and onto the chair as well.

My eyes glanced up to his as I loosened his belt, slipping it away from his hips and popping the button on his trousers. He let out a soft sigh through his nose as they dropped down to his ankles and he stepped out of them. I let him take his boxers off whilst I unbuttoned my dress all the way down and slipped my panties off and reached back to get my bra off.

His hand was round my waist, pulling me to bed in a second making me smile and lean back into the mattress as he hovered over me.

"I promise I'll give you a baby, Y/N." He uttered and I felt my heart and lower stomach flutter.

His hands stroked down the length of my body before my thighs were gripped and pushed open. I bit my lip to hold back my grin as his lips worked their way down from the top of my neck to my navel.

"Does this help make the baby?" I whispered with a breathy laugh as his hot breath stimulated my clitoris.

"It might." He murmured with a grin before his tongue licked a strip through my folds before focusing on my clit. My head went back, resting against the pillows and my legs fell open against his hands that gripped my thighs firmly. I looked up at the ceiling through heavy eyes as his tongue swirled perfectly. Heat stroked me so precisely that I was a trembling mess in a matter of seconds. It always amazed me how easily he broke me.

It never took long before my fingers were latched into his hair, ruining the neat appearance he always held and forcing groans to vibrate through my lower body and set fire to my core.

I never received any time to recover before he was cupping my face and lifting my legs, hushing my whine as my leg was stretched over his shoulder.

"Look at me, darling." He murmured but his voice was somehow always clear. I did as he said, my eyes locking with his as I felt him push inside me; stretching and filling me inch my inch until all the air was gone from my lungs.

His lips pushed to mine, filling my mouth with his tongue and teasing mine. "Elijah..." I moaned quietly against him and he pulled away with a groan, looking down at me and kissing my forehead as his hips drew back before pushing forward with force. I let out a sharp breath as he did so, my hands cupping his neck and my nails scratching the back of his head. "Gods..." I whispered and he let out a low hum as he build a steady rhythm to move against me.

"I can't wait to pump you full of my child." He uttered, his eyes swirling with that familiar darkness. I panted with a smile on my lips, feeling my leg strain as he pushed be deeper into the bed and moved quicker. "Feel you milk me of my last drop." He breathed out as his mouth now hovered back over mine, making my skin hotter and hotter. "See you round and swollen..." He grunted, his body stuttering before getting a little rougher.

His grip started to get tighter, his fingertips pressing bruises into the skin of my thigh and hip. The veins starting to scatter beneath his eyes and down his stubbled cheeks. My hands slid round from his neck to feel how they raised against the pads of my thumbs.

"I need you." I whispered and his brows furrowed.

"You have me." He muttered, thrusting particularly hard as if to make a point. "All of me."

"Prove it." I breathed and his blunt nails dug in a little before one of his hands let go and slid down my body to massage my clit so well that I knew that was it for me.

His other hand was round my throat, forcing me to look back at him as his warmth started to fill more and more, one thrust at a time until he stayed completely still above me. His forehead rest against mine, his skin warm on mine as he shifted to kiss my lips.

"I promise you, by the end of the year, you'll be carrying our child and I'll be massaging you until you're perfectly sated." He smiled and I mirrored it as he shifted so that I was laid on top of his firm body. "We should lay for a while...so that it can take." He whispered and I hummed.

"I'd lay with you forever."

"Always, and forever." He corrected softly.

[honey-bell-aint-well]

I keep seeing this Loveball being mentioned in regards to fresh, but I wasn't in the fandom back then and I don't know what the fuck Loveball is and how it created fresh's character? Asking you abt it bcus you seem knowledgeable abt fresh lol

I'll have you know that when I saw this ask I cackled and rubbed my hands together evilly, completely unironically.

Unfortunately I've already rambled about this before, so I'll copy and paste the rant here rather than ranting anew:

So, like seven years ago there was a fandom-wide event called the Loveball, where people gathered their OCs and had them all attend an UTMV dancing ball. Fresh went, of course. There, he met a Frisk called Pacifrisk. Even knowing who he really was [90's parasite], they still believed he could be good. Before this, he hadn't ever really felt a connection to anyone, or even positive emotions in general. But Pacifrisk's faith in him made him feel positively towards them. This freaked him out. [No Fr@ns though, don't worry. That wasn't the intention for this plot.]

As a result, not only did he try to kill them, but he also went through with his plans: the Fresh Takeover [I forget what it's actually called]. His true reason for attending the ball. OCs were either possessed by the parasites or tried to fight against them. Apparently, some people used alcohol to ward the virus off, as Fresh hates substances such as that.

Fresh wanted to take over the multiverse, with this Loveball being the first step for his total domination.

But then right in the middle of things, a Sans AU [which I totally forget the name of X,D] grabbed Fresh and basically yeeted him into an alternate state of being. One where he could see the creators, all staring at him. An audience.

The Sans revealed the nature of Fresh's existence: That he was simply a character in a story. And if the creators got bored of him, he could easily be written aside and forgotten. Erased. His conquest didn't matter, in the end.

Predictably, this gave him an existential crisis. I'm not sure what happened after, but he stopped invading and went somewhere to contemplate his existence in a depressed state.

Afterwards, he had a new goal: To entertain. To convince the creators that he was worth keeping around. Similar to his previous goal of survival, but now with more dire stakes."

Here are some links regarding the Loveball. I recommend checking them out if you want more info about it, because I didn't really talk about it very deeply here:

https://thebonezone66.tumblr.com/post/139210779428/muffets-love-ball-roleplay

https://www.tumblr.com/bestfresh90smess [This is CQ's RP sideblog]

https://loverofpiggies.tumblr.com/tagged/loveball/chrono

Hope this clears things up! :D

Edit: Oh, and Fresh wasn't created during the Loveball. He was originally an April Fool's shitpost doodle that CQ made, inspired by Dippy Fresh from Gravity Falls. Eventually he developed into the horrifying 90's abomination that we know today.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Cassandra (the last of these retrospective character threads), under a cut for length:

"This is the last of the (major) characters I wrote during my time on Dragon Age. I could go into others, and considered moving onto Stray Gods... but I feel like fewer would be interested, and I honestly can't keep up the pace. So let's make this the last, for now. So, yeah. Cassandra. We knew early on that Cassandra would come into DAI as a companion, along with Varric, that this was part of what DA2 set up for the sequel. Now, I'd written Cassandra's short scenes in DA2, yes, but I wasn't her writer for DAI. Initially, she was Jennifer Hepler's character. By mid-project, in fact, Cassandra was more or less fully written. Jennifer did a great job - solid character, solid quest. The sticking point, it turned out, was her romance. Now, to be fair, Jennifer told me straight up when we began that writing romance wasn't her forte, but she'd give it a go. The problem with the romance as she wrote it wasn't in its execution but more a clash between the character as Jennifer envisioned her and the requirements of her being a romance. See, I mentioned previously that a romance arc inherently limits the kinds of stories you can tell with a companion. Many responses I got can be summed up as "lol skill issue", but consider this: a companion romance isn't a fic you can just throw up on AO3. It's an investment of a lot of resources. If a companion has one, most of their resources need to be devoted to it - it's not "now let's ALSO add a romance"."

"That means it needs to take priority in who they are as a character and their arc. What's more, they need to be *appealing* to a big chunk of the player base - or at least someone we can imagine being broadly appealing, anyway. Thankfully, there are still many many stories this can accommodate. ��� This, however, wasn't one of those. Was Cassandra a fascinating character? Absolutely. Her romance, though... Well, Jennifer DID warn me. She'd written Cassandra as a serious, self-righteous, pious woman who put the Inquisitor on a messianic pedestal. Romancing her meant changing her view of you. You did this by being... pushy. Jennifer didn't mean it to, I'm sure, but sometimes it came off as, at best, negging. At worst, a bit harassy. And Jennifer would have fixed it. This was a 1st draft, and the issues - while serious - were something a skilled writer like her could handle. No problem. Thing is, Jennifer left. You may not remember, but this was around the time a bunch of GamerGate dudes decided Jennifer was somehow responsible for ALL of BioWare's faults. Oh, the power she wielded! She, a writer, could even command the combat Bio made! The result was a LOT of ugly harassment. 😞 Is this why she left? You'd have to ask her, but it undoubtedly didn't help. The important thing is, she left - and there was nobody as senior nor as superhumanly fast as her to take over any unfinished work. This is where Patrick Weekes comes in: a solid, senior writer who could fill her shoes."

"It was great timing - not only did Cassandra need a writer, I'd slowly fallen more and more behind. It was clear by that point that I'd never be able to write Dorian AND Cole AND Solas as planned. They needed to pick up two. And I let them choose the ones who interested them, like all my writers. Patrick taking Solas was no surprise, and while I had Big Plans for Solas in the future I knew at least he'd be in good hands. I was reeeeaaaally hoping Patrick would then pick Cassandra... but they wanted Cole. My baby. Who I created in Asunder. I grumped, but Patrick clearly loved the character. They had ideas for Cole which... yeah yeah, sounded cool. Fiiine. 😅 Now I had to figure out what *I* was going to do with Cassandra. We couldn't move the romance to someone else, all the other female characters were well underway, and I didn't know the character well enough to fix her with tweaks. That meant a re-write. I didn't WANT to erase all that good work, but I needed to start from scratch. Yet how? A pious, self-righteous character was already a risk in terms of romantic appeal. There are only a small number of traits sorta considered universally unappealing but they're on that list. In this instance, Cassandra already being a known character helped. I came across a webcomic (by aimo, I think? AHH I wish I could find it now) that made a joke about Cassandra reading Varric's books. Off-hand, no basis for it, but funny. 😆 And I thought: YES. THAT'S IT. THAT'S WHAT I'M MISSING."

"I sat down and wrote the "fangirl" scene, just to test it out. Everyone loved it, and it served to change my image of who Cassandra was - a view of the inside, at the idealistic and awkward passion she felt, for so many things... AND the Maker. "Yes," I thought. "I could fall in love with this." Who knew Cassandra could be funny? Not anyone, coming out of DA2, yet here we were. It worked so well and her voice came so easily. Miranda Raison was game ofc, and amazing. Though Caroline did gripe that, if we ever met more Nevarrans THAT accent meant we'd have the Tali Problem all over again. 😅 Cassandra's romance is burned into my brain as the time when we THE most awkward conversation with the animators ever. See, that moment during the sex scene on the picnic blanket when she leans back and... there were suddenly these strategically-placed candles, juuuust covering the Sordid Bits. Thing is, they were so obviously placed just to do that. Plus, we'd already decided to do full nudity in DAI, hadn't we? WHY WERE THEY EVEN THERE? Turns out, the nudity thing was still pretty new to the team. They'd forgotten and put the candles there almost as a reflex. So prudish. So Canadian. 😂 I do find it kind of funny that, these days, what I mostly hear about Cassandra is from female fans upset at me because she wasn't a lesbian option. I mean, right? Who wouldn't want that? Technically not my decision, but I guess I WAS behind the companions having set preferences so... fair enough?"

"Some of them do take it to an entitled place, though, like Cassandra *should* have been a lesbian. Why? Because she looks like one, apparently, and that that's a bit of stereotyping which feels... odd? But it's not as if lesbian players are spoiled for choice left and right, so again: fair enough. It did lead to the best end credits VO perhaps ever, and overall I'm pretty happy with how Cassandra panned out. Things never end up like you expect, right? But such is game dev lyfe. 🥸🖖 Did you know Cassandra was THE most-romanced DAI character, by a good margin? Least, by a good margin? Dorian."

[source thread]

User: "Did you have any hand in her writing for Dawn of the Seeker?" David Gaider: "No, none. Nobody at BioWare had any hand in Dawn of the Seeker, outside of maybe Mike approving the script or direction? Only he could say for sure." [source]

User: "Was Miranda a specific casting choice by anyone on the team (similar to your picks for Merrill/Fenris/Solas), or was she simply a lucky find? I loved Miranda on the BBC series "Spooks", so I was very pleasantly surprised to learn she voiced one of my favourite DA characters" David Gaider: "I don’t remember how Miranda was cast. Auditioned, I expect, and she had a good “steely warrior voice” which is surprisingly uncommon among actresses. The accent she made up was all her, as well." [source]

User: "What's the Tali Problem?" David Gaider: "When Tali was the only Quarian, the actress doing a made-up accent was fine. Once there were others… do we get them all to mimic her? That’s a tall order!" [source]

User: "I'd say Solas is the most popular nowaday, but you need to be such a specific race/gender combo + most straight guys wouldn't go for him, i get hes not on top of the list, but I'd have expected Josephine over Cass." David Gaider: "You can’t go by how fans online talk about playing the game. There is almost zero correlation between the playstyles of the vocal hardcore and the masses." [source]

User: "I was a Dorianmancer. The cut content in Trespasser DLC was sad to read, it definitely felt short/abrupt for Dorianmancers. Anyway to share what was cut at all?" David Gaider: "I don’t know what was cut out of the conversation, as I never played it. I just heard about it after the fact." [source]

User: "Those end credits are truly incredible. Do you remember who wrote them? I'm guessing a combination of Mary Kirby & you?" David Gaider: "I wrote them, but I recall the entire team kind of took part in brainstorming the pieces of it." [source]

User: "I’m very curious- Do you know what direction you would have taken Cole and his story if you’d kept him?" David Gaider: "It's hypothetical at this point, but I suspect I would have been less willing to lose the serial killer aspect... or, at least, would have made that transition occur as part of his arc in DAI. Yet that's easy to say from this side of the divide. Who knows, really?" [source]

User: "With Cassandra you created one of the best characters in DA history." David Gaider: "Personally, my favorite response of hers is where she gets mocked for loving romance and she comes back with a retort about how it's a strength - how loving something and striving for the ideal takes courage. To me, that's central to her core." [source]

User: "inquiry: did you not write any of the Awakening characters?" David Gaider: "I wrote Anders, Justice, and Nathaniel in Awakening - but it was such a hurried project, my memories of it are pretty much a blur. "Yes, I worked on that" is almost all I can say about it, I'm afraid." [source]

[the-technorats]

ok ive been wanting to post abt this for a while. i think a part of the reason that i started to grow away from the 1d fandom recently (and more into 5sos, actually, which will be relevant later) is for these exact realizations. it became pretty clear, during the band's lifetime but mostly once the band went on hiatus, explicitly and implicitly, that being in one direction was extremely unhealthy for the talent involved.

and so not only did it become a kind of moral dilemma, bc how do you support and love something that you know is abusive, but it ruined the mirage of the essence of the band, which was, as louis put it, about having fun and being normal guys but terrible, terrible dancers, because you knew that under the surface of their silly, goofy live shows they were probably not having that much fun all the time and were definitely at points in either physical or mental anguish or both at once.

it feels so disillusioning because their primary appeal to their fanbase wasn't that they were like, hot or whatever (though they were and that was definitely part of it (but also their fanbase was so fucking queer that that metric could only do so much)), but it was that they were friends. the explicit marketing was sex appeal, sure, but the implicit marketing was community.

we wanted to think they were having as much fun as we were, that they loved being in the band with each other as much as we loved them. and once they broke up ("went on hiatus") and people started realizing they weren't quite as good of friends as we all thought they were, that they were coworkers, that they don't even have each other's phone numbers, that's when it didn't feel as good.

which is interesting. we all wanted so badly to be convinced that what we all knew was happening wasn't.

i think we desperately want that. as 1d put it: to be loved and to be in love. and we want to think that friendship and community and love can withstand anything, no matter how abusive and oppressive. because we want the hope that in our own abusive and oppressive life, our community can carry us through it. we're like, fantasizing about unionization and collectivization in a way that feels safe. and no one wants to hear this, but this IS a weapon of which we (and your faves) are victims.

like, god, if the success of capitalism isn't that it makes you think you want it. people want community? people are realizing that collective action is what overturns oppressive systems? give them this. this band of boys from working class backgrounds who love each other and made it to superstardom through nothing but the power friendship and love and art. give them that experience through an artificial projection of community that only ever makes you complicit in the commodification of yourself and your artists. the strongest sedative is the one you already want to take.

and if that isn't the reason 1d were doomed to fail. because they were created by the exact power that people want to push back against. you can't eat your young and have them too.

if being in one direction was all sunshine and rainbows, the boys would have come back after that hiatus and zayn would have never left.

behind closed doors, those boys were suffering.

it kills me that i never saw that because all i saw was that they made me happy and surely they were happy too.

that couldn't have been farther from the truth.

this is killing me

[alikuarso]

To answer your question about Fresh: Fresh is actually a parasite! He dresses in his 90's-themed clothes and speaks in a silly way so that others underestimate him. His main and utmost goal is to Survive, and the way he does that is by infecting other people with his parasites and draining the life from their souls. Being seen as harmless lets him get closer to them and gives him easier access for possession. He hopes to eventually take over the multiverse, spreading his parasites in every corner of it and having absolute control.

He also has no emotions. He is capable of them, but for whatever reason he is unable to feel much, besides the rare instance of anger. He does frequently feel fear, though.

He is a bit sadistic, and he likes seeing others suffer. This is because when he takes over someone he drains their soul of life, which causes them pain. And to him, taking someone's body means safety, it means he can survive a bit longer as long as he's snatched their body. So he's come to associate the pain of others as something good.

And he's also aware of the creators/viewers, thanks to an event called the Loveball, which is canon to his character.

Going to copy and paste my own words for this [I was talking to a friend about Loveball]:

"So, like seven years ago there was a fandom-wide event called the Loveball, where people gathered their OCs and had them all attend an UTMV dancing ball. Fresh went, of course. There, he met a Frisk called Pacifrisk. Even knowing who he really was [90's parasite], they still believed he could be good. Before this, he hadn't ever really felt a connection to anyone, or even positive emotions in general. But Pacifrisk's faith in him made him feel positively towards them. This freaked him out. [No Fr@ns though, don't worry. That wasn't the intention for this plot.]

As a result, not only did he try to kill them, but he also went through with his plans: the Fresh Takeover [I forget what it's actually called]. His true reason for attending the ball. OCs were either possessed by the parasites or tried to fight against them. Apparently, some people used alcohol to ward the virus off, as Fresh hates substances such as that.

Fresh wanted to take over the multiverse, with this Loveball being the first step for his total domination.

But then right in the middle of things, a Sans AU [which I totally forget the name of X,D] grabbed Fresh and basically yeeted him into an alternate state of being. One where he could see the creators, all staring at him. An audience.

The Sans revealed the nature of Fresh's existence: That he was simply a character in a story. And if the creators got bored of him, he could easily be written aside and forgotten. Erased. His conquest didn't matter, in the end.

Predictably, this gave him an existential crisis. I'm not sure what happened after, but he stopped invading and went somewhere to contemplate his existence in a depressed state.

Afterwards, he had a new goal: To entertain. To convince the creators that he was worth keeping around. Similar to his previous goal of survival, but now with more dire stakes."

His creator @loverofpiggies has some posts about the Loveball, tagged under either the 'fresh sans' tag or the 'loveball' tag, which I recommend you check out! ^^

But yeah, to answer your question: The reason Fresh fought Ink was probably 1: because he saw it as a good way to keep himself alive and 2: So that he could be relevant and interesting to the viewers.

Hope this answered any questions you might have about him! ^w^

THANK YOU BECAUSE THERE'S NO WAY I WOULD HAVE FOUND ABOUT ANY OF THIS OTHERWISE😭😭😭 THAT'S A LOT

Now I want to draw fresh existential crisis mood, That's something I never would have imagined existed

Im still a bit confused about fresh not having emotions¿ but I think I got the idea, but still, why does he feel fear?

I think fresh is becoming my favorite now, help, error do something

(Thank you again for your time✨️)

[evilvvithin]

FOR THE COLLECTION

pairing: asa emory x f!reader warnings: stalking, violence, description of blood and gore, Asa is cute few times that's a warning in it's own, smut but faintly words: 4,421 summary: When he first saw you, Asa thought you'd make a nice piece for collection, but not exactly in the way as other unfortunate victims - you'd be his perfect final piece.

notes: One shot fic but could be turned into multiple chapters later. I made multiple time jumps in this without specifically describing it but i like the story telling it creates. I really just wanted some Asa so started writing and writing and.. :) AO3 link || masterlist (pls don't read my old fics i am not proud of them)

It was finally the day - the day when a huge art gallery opens in your city. You were eager to go as you loved art and everything around it, not even caring all your friend turned you down on the invite at the last second. Despite them all coming up with various reasons as to why they can't make it, you knew they just didn't want to come - it was boring to them. They didn't appreciate the art. It wasn't disappointing though, you expected to go alone, again.

Losing yourself in the paitings for what seemed like hours, inspecting every single brush stroke and techniques, you were so lost in yourself and the art you didn't notice a man constantly following behind you. You've noticed him in the gallery before, but nothing really stood out about him - he looked very ordinary, but well groomed and kept overall, dressed in a simple black suit. 

He loved the way you stood in front of each display for long, making sure you saw every detail in it. The perfect imperfections. The perfections. You looked so peaceful standing there alone - the world around you disappeared. You tend to do it a lot, but he already knew that as it wasn't the first time he saw you at grand opening like this one.

“Fascinating, isn't it?” He nonchalantly said right behind your ear. 

You jumped, heart raced a little, looking at the man observing the painting now standing right behind you. 

“How they created such masterpieces without all the modern technology. Masterpieces that live forever. They were geniuses. All the years and no one could beat them to it.”

You smiled at the man, nodding. “I agree. I just can't get enough of it despite seeing the art so many times. It feels different every time you look at it.” 

“This one especially is my personal favorite.”

“Oh, same!”

The two of you looked at each other, excitement pouring out of you. You were here alone, mesmerized by the art - so was he. He was quite attractive now that you focused on it - casually looking but clean. Simple, attractive man with smooth yet sharp facial features. 

His phone beeped and after checking it quickly, he sighed annoyingly. “Have to go.. but would love to chat with you about art more.” 

You felt the heat running to your cheeks. His straight forwardness took you by surprise. 

“I-me too. Yes.” You mumbled out hoping he doesn't notice your awkwardness and reddish cheeks.

He himself felt a little awkward despite presenting himself so confidently - his way of getting girls usually didn't include talking to them trying to impress them or invite them out. 

“Can I have your number, then?” He smiled and handed you his phone in which you typed it. 

“People usually exchange socials and stuff,” you said and returned his smile.

“Oh, yeah. I myself find phone numbers more.. intimate. People don't hand these out publicly like their socials.” He let out a chuckle as he saved the number you gave him. The chemistry between you two was almost visible in the air. “See you later.”

“See you!”

What. An. Interaction.

Watching him disappear around the corner your heart pounded as if you just realized what happened, but you were definitely going to give it a shot and meet him. If he actually called you later as he said that was it. While you hoped he would actually invite you out, you couldn't shake the feeling it was just another fail. Maybe you were too awkward and he was going to rethink his choices later or it was one of those guys just collecting numbers anywhere they go. 

Oh, you were so wrong.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to ignore all that happened and focused on the art again. 

Later that day just when you got out of the shower and were ready to sleep, your phone vibrated on the nightstand. Your eyes widened in excitement as you saw an unknown number on the screen - must've been him. It was a text message, short and simple, inviting you for dinner at a nearby restaurant, with a wish of good night to you at the end. 

Maybe this could work out. Maybe good things were finally happening to you. 

Looking forward to it. Good night - you replied and giggled. 

The date went so good you refused to believe that it was actually real. 

He brought you flowers, somehow knowing exactly which ones you liked and what color. The food was delicious, the atmosphere magical, the tension between you only growing and more exciting. 

Not only the first date, all the other dates you two had were unbelievably good and enjoyable. Asa Emory, as he introduced himself, was smart and talkative once you get to know each other more. He felt comfortable with you and enjoyed his time, making him almost unable to stop talking. He was a professor - his way of talking sold it out before he even told you. He knew how to capture attention and what to say at all times. You could talk about anything for days and never get tired or run out of topics. It felt like match made in heaven.

You learned he was an entomologist later, right before you two started to date officially. You had an idea he had something to do with bugs when you saw his van, at which he had “Deratization” logo. Sometimes when he had time he went around and cleaned people’s houses from the bugs he liked so much. He restrained from telling you, scared you'd back away and feel disgusted, but the more he got to know you the more he knew you weren't so easily squeamish. Your love of horror and terrifying stuff in general might've been weird and off putting to many, but he loved that. You had that morbid curiosity in you, it just needed to grow to its full potential like when a cocoon turns into a butterfly. Though you weren't fond of bugs, you didn't completely despise them either. He thought maybe over time he could get you into the beauty and fascinating world of those little things. 

You also loved his dogs, German shepherds; he had a great taste in everything. Anyone loving animals as much as he did was a good person in and out. Asa used to be so childish around his dogs but at the same getting little annoyed when you spotted him.

“I like moths,” you told him once at a night ride through the city and he laughed for so long. 

Everyone loved butterflies if anything, but moths? Not so common. 

Oh, you were perfect.

Moths, the creatures of the dark and death, yet so fragile and beautiful. 

He was intrigued by you whole. In his eyes deep down you were just twisted as him, but unlike him you didn't let your creativity go free - yet. 

Despite all the tension and strong chemistry between you two since the very beginning, you didn't get physical till later on into dating. It meant way more to both of you, more intimate. Almost like you wanted to just fully enjoy the growing lust, enjoy every single bit of the act itself later. You've never felt so naked infront of anyone before like before Asa. It was so sensual, wild, but also incredibly sweet and romantic. He made you feel like you would crumble into pieces, your whole body shaking as he took care of you - in and out. He felt like exploding every time you touched him, the way you wanted him and lusted for his touch like no one ever did. The feeling that you needed him. 

You visited him at the college often, sneaking into his office room having fun often. Both his room and his house were full of colorful exotic insects, framed carefully behind a thick glass. It made you feel uneasy at first, especially all the giant spiders, which he found funny, but you got used to it pretty quick. They were quite fascinating after all, you had to admit. 

One day you decided to surprise him at his house. Knowing he was teaching till the evening, you timed it so you'd arrive at his place shortly before he would. Buying some snacks and wine on your way, it was unusually cold that evening especially as it was getting darker. You just hoped he wouldn't be late. 

Of course he was. 

You regretted not asking about his work that day even though it would ruin the surprise. With your ice cold hands turning white and purple ish, you checked the time again. Either you go home or use his spare key he told you about. Despite you being together and treating each other's houses as your own, it didn't feel quite right to you to just enter without him knowing. The dogs knew you already of course, not barking or growling, just tipping their little beans on the floor behind the door eager to greet you, their tails aggressively wagging. You waited a little longer anyway, but not seeing any sign of him and your legs starting to shake from the cold, you reached to the plant pot and dug up the key. 

A weird smell immediately filled your nose upon entering, making you gag and cover your face. A mixture of chlorine and alcohol that sat in the house as no windows were opened the whole day. You never smelled anything like that there and while thinking it was weird, you simply brushed it off. It must've been his etymology thing - sometimes he prepped his own display or cut them open to study them. After giving attention to the puppies, you prepared the snacks and wine on the table in his living room, still unable to get rid of the chlorine smell despite opening the windows for a while and decided to investigate. The density of it was stronger upstairs and near the basement. 

When will you be home?

You texted him and immediately received a response.

Work's busy today, it might take a while. Why?

I have a surprise for you.

I'll come as soon as I can. 

Asa squinted his eyes at the screen thinking about what surprise you had in mind. It didn't take him long to realize the reason you asked when he was about to be home was because you were waiting for him there - it was the most logical reason in his head.

“Fuck.” He let out through gritted teeth, jaws clenching together.

You just had to choose this exact day to come over. This exact day when he was working on his collection. He planned to show you his little hobby eventually, with your consent or without it - didn't matter. He was nearly certain you'd do it all willingly and be on his side, help him create the collection. He didn't even plan on actually falling for you when he saw you for the first time, but now that he wanted you to be part of his collection? Part of his journey? His life? 

Sitting in his van all in black with a custom balaclava mask on, a muffled screaming echoed from the back as he punched the wheel. Screams of a young woman stuck inside a little box - a second piece for his collection that week. The first box was already in his house, hidden in the basement with thickened walls in case anything went wrong. Asa did some work on the unfortunate man earlier that day after telling you he's at work. The guy made some mess and he had to clean it up, now wondering if the smell inside the house dissolved already. He turned his head to the back of the car and hissed loudly, making the muffled screams stop. 

Tonight was going to end only in two ways. He cursed silently and started the engine. 

When he arrived at the house and tires screeching cut the silence in the neighborhood, he saw a very faint warm light coming through the windows. Taking his mask off and running his hand over his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the black coloring, he rushed inside the house not thinking twice. The black around his eyes now smeared but still there and squeezing the mask in his fist, he looked like a maniac. Inside his house was quiet, nearly uncomfortably quiet. The table in the living room decorated with wine glasses, bowls of snacks and candles, giving the entire room the faded warm light he saw from outside. 

But where were you?

Your shoes were left right next to the door so you must've been still inside. The dogs didn't rush to the door to greet him - yes, they adored you, sometimes he was jealous. Asa stood still for a few minutes, carefully listening to any noise you or the dogs could make. His patience shortly after rewarded, he heard some faint rustling down below his feet as if a heavy object was being pushed around.

The box.

Rushing down to the basement stairs through the doors you left open before, he found you there exactly as he thought he would - trying to move the box around to open it. 

“Oh, you're here.. Do you smell it?” You said and inhaled the chlorine air again coming strong from the box. 

“I had to clean some mess in the morning. Thought it'd be gone by now,” Asa replied and laughed nervously. “Rather unfortunate the smell is still present. Can't just leave my windows opened while I'm gone.”

“It's horrible, I couldn't even get it out by opening the damn windows - arhh it's so heavy!” You finally let go of the box and looked up on him. “Oh wha- what's all that on your face?” 

He smeared his eyes again with his hands making them similarly black. You couldn't hold your laughter when you imagined it's one of those non washable body make-up and he would have to go to work with the black around his eyes. He laughed too, it must've looked comical without the mask on. 

“What's that?” You pointed at the balaclava in his hand.

“Ah -  nothing. Just a mask. Why don't we go upstairs and have a great night? As you planned?”

While that was your initial idea and the reason you came here, now that you discovered the smelly box you were dying to see what's the source of the awful stink. And why did he have a damn mask on top of all that?

“Yeah we'll go,” you nodded. “After I check the box.”

Reaching down towards the lock his hand flew to your arm to stop you, pulling you harshly backwards. He stood between you and the box now, walking towards you making you back off till your back was pressed against the wall. You let out a moan as the air got pushed out of your lungs. 

“Or how about we have a great time right now right here?” Asa's voice all low and whispery. 

“How about you put that mask on?” You smirked, not fighting him at all.

He grinned - of course you'd ask something like that, you fucked up little thing.

You felt how wet you were getting just from the way he held you locked in one place, his weight pressed against your hips. He placed his knee between your legs and brushed against your core, making you whine and already almost beg for more. Now with the mask on and the black paint covering any skin that'd be visible otherwise, he looked quite sinister - at the same time so hot. You didn't care about the chlorine smell anymore, you didn't care about the wine or snacks, you didn't care why even he was dressed like that with a balaclava. 

There was nothing else except you and him at that moment.

The whole set up and weirdness of the entire evening made the act between you two only stronger - you've never felt so eager to feel him before, not even the first time. To fill you up. There was something fishy about it all, but with each thrust of his - hitting your pelvic - the thoughts were disappearing; soon your mind just blank and your eyes unable to focus on anything. A chill running down your spine feeling his hot breath at your neck, his hands gripping you harder and harder with each sound you moaned out. He felt you slipping under him, his own legs getting shakey as he was close to finishing while you moaned yout his name.

God, you drove him crazy. 

He was so happy when you just passed out on the couch - time to finish his business silently. Couple glasses of wine should make sure you sleep deep. It was even colder outside now; his sweaty skin and clothes from before only made it worse. The second he opened the back of his van, the box shaked as the woman inside kicked around helplessly; yet she was silent other than that. A dose of narcotics made her body go fully limp. Asa chuckled to himself - her vocal cords were probably dead by this point. No one could hear her outside the van, as long as the cloth was deep down her throat; and he made sure it was. Yet, some people still tried to scream not realizing it's to no effect. He found it amusing, fascinating even. The lengths the human beings go when faced with pure survival. He wanted his subjects to obey, but not give up. 

Shuffling the box inside the house, he found you in the same position as he left you with your shallow, relaxed breathing. Tucking it right next to the other box in the basement, he locked the doors carefully, saving the key in his pocket. Tonight ended up differently than he planned at first, but it still met one of the scenarios he expected - you just not finding out anything.

You never asked him about that night, about the face paint, the mask, the boxes. The next day when you woke up they were all gone together with the smell. Asa himself never mentioned anything himself. Obviously. In his head, it didn't matter if you asked or not because eventually you'd knew about it all. When? Didn't really matter. He felt you were already ready nevertheless, but he was still waiting for the right moment. 

Days, weeks, months went by. 

When there was a chance, you two spent all your time visiting galleries or at his place. Sometimes you wondered if he gave up his hobbies except teaching since he had so much free time for you - not like you minded, you enjoyed every single minute of it. During that time, numerous TV news stations reported a serial killer on the loose as some missing people were found dead, again. He always laughed and said you were safe with him, nothing would ever happen to you when he's with you so why pay attention to the news? You didn't pay much attention to it at that time when it came on the news.

Not until the police knocked on your own apartment asking about Asa. 

“He was with me, yes. All the time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Excuse me?”

“It is known you two are in a relationship, ma'am. Don't cover for him.”

“I am not covering up for anyone. I'm telling you he was with me at that time. We were at the grand opening.”

“And what about here?”

“That was our date at the restaurant.”

“Alright.”

“What's going on? Why are you asking all these questions?”

“We can't share much details while the investigation is still going on.”

“Is it connected to the murders?”

“We can't -”

“So it is. You think Asa did it?!”

“Well, he is one of many suspects in this case. Anyway, that'll be all. Thank you for your time ma'am.”

Your mind circling back to that one night where you discovered the box, the chlorine smell. Asa with his mask dressed all in black, black paint around his eyes. The random times he had so much work and then almost none. The latex gloves you found in the trash later but didn't think twice about them. Grabbing the phone you were about to text him, but thought it'd be safer to just meet him face to face. The police could've been monitoring phone activity of both of you. You didn't even bat an eye at all the weird connections and the police coming to you - all you needed was to talk to Asa first.

Standing in front of his front doors, it took a while before he pulled up with his van. He gave you a confused look at why you were outside in the cold. Without a single word you just got in, taking the passenger seat and motioning to him to drive - and so he did. You didn't care where you were going. After a while you sighed and asked: “Did police contact you?”

He didn't seem surprised or anything. “No, why?” He replied casually as if you talked about the weather.

“They came to my apartment a few hours ago. Asking about you. Asking about where you've been on specific days and times.”

He was silent, focusing on driving. 

“Did you do something?” 

He clicked his tongue at the question as if he was annoyed. So that was it - the time he shares everything with you.

“They said you are one of possible suspects for the disappearances and murders,” you continued, gaze fixated on his unmoved side profile. 

He turned the wheel and stopped in front of a huge abandoned warehouse, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Loud barking started, echoing sharply through the silence of the night. The entire place was like a ruin, the building itself half destroyed. The barking got louder and louder and you saw two german shepherds running towards you, recognizing them immediately. 

“What are they doing here?” You asked and got out of the car to greet them. 

“I bring them with me when I'm working.”

You paused for a moment, your fingers buried within the dog’s fur. “Working?”

That uneasy feeling creeped up on you, realizing you might not know Asa as much as you thought you did. 

“Please-”

“Wanna see my collection?” Asa said suddenly and reached his hand out, which you took without hesitation. 

“I'm confused, you know.” You sighed and followed him, his dogs running around causally familiar with everything. It was their second home.

Despite everything, you trusted Asa. You loved him and always stood by his side and you didn't plan on changing that. Approaching a rusty metal door, you saw like 6 locks hanging at the frame - what could possibly be inside that it needed to be so safe? The dogs squeezed in and ran into the distance, disappearing down the hallway; they were certainly familiar with everything; so was Asa. Following the dog's path, the familiar chlorine smell hit your nose. It wasn't strong at first, but the deeper into the building you got, the stronger it smelled. 

“Is that blood?” You looked down on the floor. 

He remained silent, holding your hand tighter. The uneasy feeling shot through you again like a wave; putting the pieces of the puzzle together you started to think his hobby wasn't only etymology and art. Entering a well lit room, you felt like you walked into an ongoing mortuary. The room looked like a morgue, even having the freezer boxes in the wall. A bloody mess of what seemed like a woman before was spread across the silver table in the middle of the room. Your stomach didn't twist, nor did you jump. You just stood there with an emotionless face, observing. The longer you looked at the mashed redness the more you doubted it was actually a woman. 

Asa on the other hand observed you, his whole body tense and ready if you tried to do anything stupid. He was pleasantly surprised seeing you not panic or scream at the scene in front of you. Leading you to the shelves on the side, you were met with a bunch of live tarantulas inside glass jars. You shivered a little seeing the 8-legged freaks crawl inside and Asa couldn't help himself but laugh. 

“That's what gets you?” He kept laughing. 

Next to the spiders were more jars but filled with various body parts in a liquid. From eyes, tongues to fingers - you name it. Your heartbeat raised once your sight landed on a jar with a woman's head inside, more likely belonging to the bloody mess you've seen just a few seconds ago on the table.

Asa still waited, still doubted you were so nonchalant about everything - maybe you were only playing it. “So?” He whispered, not letting his eyes off you. 

You didn't say a word - you were speechless, as if in a tranz. Letting him lead you further into the warehouse, you were surprised how well maintained it actually was on the inside. He clearly spent a lot of time here. Finally you entered a big hall, followed by the dogs wagging their tails happily. The entire room had a blue tint, every bit of it filled with giant fish tanks full of - something.

“The Collection.” Asa said proudly and his hand flew across the tanks showcasing his artwork.

You had to admit - there was beauty in the morbidity. The creativity and sense of detail that went into every single corpse was phenomenal. There you were once again - losing yourself in art, forgetting the world around you existed, just like the day Asa laid his eyes on you. Torsos sewed together with 4 pairs of arms or more. Two headed legs. Half skinned people with their ribs decorated. You went from one tank to another. Some of the faces - if they had one - you even recognized from the news. 

“Beautiful,” you whispered, making him smile in delight.

He knew you were the one. Since the beginning.

Asa was never really touchy or cuddle type, but now he hugged you tightly and held you for so long, not wanting to let go. You were his masterpiece, the final piece to the collection that didn't need to be any modified to be perfect - just as you were. His collection was far from being finished though, but with you by his side? 

He felt like the collection was already whole.