#[i might edit them together or something? we’ll see]

[day6source]

240401 New bubble message from Dowoon! 🐶🫧

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (5) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.

Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 

You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 

When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 

“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”

You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 

“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”

He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 

You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”

“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 

“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”

“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”

He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”

“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”

He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”

You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”

“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 

“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 

Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 

“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”

Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”

“You want to see them. Really?”

“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”

Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”

“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”

“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I mean, only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Don’t tell Rafe though–”

Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 

“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”

Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 

There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”

Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 

“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”

“Uh …no,” You stared. 

Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 

“Good, get in, Bambi.”

“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 

“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”

You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”

“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 

“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 

“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”

Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 

“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”

“He’s full of shit.”

You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”

“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”

“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”

“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”

“But why–”

“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”

You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 

Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”

“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”

Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”

“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 

“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”

“... It could be really fun …”

“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”

“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”

“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”

You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 

Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 

Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 

“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 

The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 

The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 

“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”

JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 

The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 

“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”

Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 

Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”

Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”

Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 

“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 

“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”

“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 

“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“You saved me.”

Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”

Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”

“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”

“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”

“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”

Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 

“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 

“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”

Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 

“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”

You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”

“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 

“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”

You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 

He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”

Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 

“Thank me.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 

Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 

A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 

“Did people always stare at you like this?”

“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”

“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 

“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 

“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.

“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”

“Coffee isn’t good for you.”

“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 

You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”

You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 

You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 

“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 

“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 

The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”

“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 

“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”

He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 

“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 

You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 

“Daddy-”

“Let’s go, Bambi.”

“Rafe-”

“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 

You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.

PART 6

Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!

[flowerandblood]

Death and Resurrection

The Gate of Salvation Universe Oneshot

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, sexual tension, anxiety, doubts related to faith, religious guilt, breaking celibacy ]

[ description: When the Pope decides, after drawing inspiration from TV series, that they will go on a date, she knows that she cannot refuse. However, it turns out that their adventure ends differently than they both expected and a boundary is crossed from which there is no return. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]

This oneshot is the events that take place a few months after The Gate of Salvation and The Songs of Songs. It can be read as a oneshot, but at the same time it is a complement to the entire series.

Aemond as a Pope Edit Series Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

"Where are we going?" She asked apprehensively − they had never gone underground together before, the cramped, dark corridor beneath the Papal Residence through which he led her while holding her hand smelled of centuries-old dampness.

His attire also made her uneasy − he was dressed all in a white tracksuit, a hood over his head and sunglasses with white frames on his nose.

He wore this outfit whenever he wanted to get away somewhere.

"We're going on a date." He communicated softly, as if he was just explaining to her what they were going to have for breakfast. She shook her head, looking back in horror, feeling her heart pounding like mad.

"Please, Holy Father. We can't." She mumbled helplessly, knowing that usually when he came up with an idea it was difficult to dissuade him from it.

She thought with horror that it was because of a TV series they had recently watched. He insisted that she show him the blockbusters she loved as a child on her laptop, so she decided to show him The Office for fun. She turned on a random episode and the main characters in it went on a date, leaving him bewildered.

She thought he would be disgusted by the jokes and humor in this series, but he was intrigued by something completely different.

"What's so great about dating? What's the point of it? Why can't they just meet up and talk about what's important to them?" He asked with a frustration that surprised her.

She realised that his years in the church and convent had completely disconnected him from the life he could have lived as a teenager.

She wasn't sure how she should explain this.

"It's true, however, you can't be serious all your life. Sometimes, as we are doing now, a couple feels like watching a film and just being together. It's pleasant then, for example, to go to eat ice cream, to take a walk in the park, to have shared memories, shared moments." She muttered, feeling embarrassed that her explanation was childish and that he certainly thought she was silly.

He, however, only pressed his lips together at her words, as if something in her words troubled him, his fingers beginning to play with the fabric of her dress covering her knees, trailing over her bare skin after a moment.

"Would you like to experience something like this?" He asked as if unwillingly, tense.

She knew she couldn't ask that of him.

What they were doing was too much anyway, and they both knew it.

She smiled at that thought, squeezing his fingers in hers.

"No, Holy Father. You give me more than I would dare to ask. I am happy and fulfilled." She said softly. His gaze lifted to her as if to see if she was telling the truth − his arm finally embraced her and drew her close, her cheek pressed lightly against his chest.

She was sure he'd forgotten about it, but he'd clearly taken her words so personally that he couldn't get over it.

"I had it all planned out. We’ll blend in with the crowd, have an ice creams, walk around the Vatican and come back. After this we can kiss if you want." He added after a moment, as if he thought that might be part of her ideal image of the event.

She swallowed loudly at the thought, feeling at once terror, discomfort and warmth in her heart, love for him, gratitude at how much he cared, how much he wanted to give her everything she could possibly need in his mind.

She pressed her lips together at the thought that when they stepped outside he hadn't let go of her hand − he intertwined their fingers together as they headed quickly down the main street between the cramped tenements, looking around.

"It should be somewhere in there. I checked on the map." He said excitedly, like a little boy pulling her behind him towards a café that held a huge fridge outside, where you could actually order ice cream.

She looked around as they got closer, afraid that by some miracle even though no one knew what he looked like, someone would connect the dots, someone would recognise him.

As if he always had to wear that bloody white tracksuit.

"Good evening." The girl standing at the counter greeted them, waiting for their order.

"Good evening. We'd like five scoops of ice cream in two different cones, please. What flavours do you want?"

"Five? That's too many, we won't eat it all." She muttered surprised, looking at him in disbelief. He turned towards her, his eyes hidden behind his glasses, all she saw was that he furrowed his brow.

"No? Are you sure?" He asked with disappointment, from which she scratched her cheek.

"I mean…if you are sure you can eat that much then, take it. I'll stick with two."

Holy Father seemed displeased, however, he cheered up when he saw the size of his cone with scoops in cream, vanilla, strawberry, toffee and blueberry. She watched with amusement as he struggled to eat with a plastic spoon what had started to run down the waffle into the bottom of his cone, herself taking her ice cream from the seller.

"How is it? Do you like it?" She asked with a laugh, seeing him lick his fingers, all sticky from the berry cream.

"Very much. It's delicious. What should we do now?" He asked, looking around, eating and at the same time trying not to stain his snowy white tracksuit.

"Let's just stroll."

They moved ahead arm in arm, looking around the evening skyline of the Vatican, focusing only on the food and this surprisingly pleasant moment.

"Have you done this before? Dating and all?" He asked reluctantly, as if the thought that she might have done it with another man before him made him uncomfortable. She looked at him indulgently, trying to hide a smile of amusement.

"Not really. I haven't had the opportunity. I have never been as close to anyone as I have been to you, Holy Father."

"Aemond."

"Pardon?"

He shrugged his shoulders, taking a bit of strawberry ice cream into his mouth.

"That's my name. I won't mind if you use it when we're alone." He muttered, visibly tense, as if what he'd said, the fact that he'd exposed himself to her terrified him.

She smiled involuntarily at his words, embarrassed.

"Very well."

After a few minutes, she could clearly see that the portion he'd ordered for himself had outgrown him − he was eating slower and slower, and it occurred to her that he'd gone pale when she'd long since finished eating her ice cream. He wanted to share his portion with her, but she shook her head.

"I can't fit any more. But if you don't have the strength to eat it, don't force yourself." She muttered, seeing him sigh heavily.

"Wasting food is a sin." He mumbled and continued eating, apparently trying not to think about the discomfort in his stomach.

It wasn't even a few seconds after he had squeezed the last bit of cone into himself when he vomited the entire contents of his stomach into one of the bins.

She ran up to him quickly, horrified, stroking his back, taking from his face the glasses that had rolled down his nose so they wouldn't fall right into his puke.

"Oh dear. Are you okay?" She asked tenderly, at the same time unable to hold back a smile of pity thinking that she had warned him after all.

He was like a little child.

When they returned back to his residence by the same route they had fled he wanted to go back to his room, although he usually insisted that she let him sleep in her bed.

"Let's go to my place. I don't want you to spend the night alone when you're feeling unwell." She said softly, grasping his fingers. He pulled down the hood from his head, all pale, fatigue in his eye.

"I ruined everything."

Though reluctantly, he followed her as she began to pull him towards her room. After he had brushed his teeth and brought himself to order, he lay on the bed without strength − he watched indifferently as she changed into her pyjamas, closing his eyes, as he always did when she revealed her naked flesh.

She was touched by how much respect he had for her, how important it was for him to treat her body with proper reverence.

She lay down beside him, turning off the lamp beforehand, his face immediately snuggled against her soft breasts.

"Do you love me?"

She froze and swallowed loudly, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad under his cheek, her hand that had been stroking his hair stopped in mid-motion.

"I love you. You are the love of my life."

She pressed her lips together when she heard him gasp, an indication that he was crying but didn't want her to see it. It took him a moment to get more out of himself, her lips placing warm, reassuring kisses on his head.

"Forgive me for not being able to give you what you need."

"You give it to me."

"You know what I mean. Sometimes I wonder…" He began and hesitated, swallowing heavily, as if afraid to say his words aloud.

"…I wonder what would happen if I left, if I married you. I imagine we would have had children, a house with a garden. That we would have had a dog. That we would pray in the evening and then make love and it wouldn't be a sin."

She shuddered at his words, feeling a drop of cold sweat run down her back, her body tensed, all hot.

"− I − you would not forgive me for that −" She muttered helplessly. She felt him rise up on his elbow, his lips parted in an accelerated breath, his cheeks swollen from tears.

"− for what? −"

"− that I have destroyed your life − pulled you away from God and your destiny −" She whispered in a trembling voice, feeling a warm tear fall from the corner of her eyes onto the pillow under her head.

He looked at her with a gaze filled with pain, breathing heavily, playing with the fabric of her shirt between his fingers.

"− but it is in your presence that I feel his presence most strongly − as if he were in the room with us −"

"− the devil takes the form of angels −" She mumbled wearily, letting the air out loudly, feeling that her throat was squeezed with pain.

Was this the moment?

The moment when she would have to say farewell to him, do the right thing?

"I have deceived you for too long. Forgive me. I will give my official notice tomorrow."

He looked at her dully, as if he didn't understand what she had just said, his breath stuck in his throat.

"− you said you love me −"

"− I do −"

"− that you won't leave me alone −"

"− I won't leave, not in my prayers − but I'm destroying your life, pulling you away from what matters −"

"− is it because of this stupid date? − I regret ever taking you there −" He hissed, as if he was furious at his idea and the woman who sold them ice cream.

"− no, of course not − Holy Father −"

"− Aemond −" He growled.

She pressed her lips together, swallowing hard, the first time she had seen him like this − his jaw clenched, his nostrils twitching in accelerated, anxious breathing, his gaze dark and cold.

She didn't recognise him.

"− don't you remember what I said to you when I first met you? − there is no greater sinner in the world than me − because I am eternally, eternally thirsty −" He said slowly and carefully, like a predator who was just slowly preparing to lash out at its prey.

"− do you think you know what I desire? − what I really need? − I'll show you −" He said lowly, not even giving her time to reply − his lips immediately clung to hers in an aggressive, impatient kiss that took her breath away, a startled, muffled squeal escaping from her throat.

She felt his body pressed her back against the bed as his hips began to rub his hard manhood hidden under the material of his sweatpants to the spot between her thighs making her shake with a strong, wonderful shiver of pleasure.

"− mghm −" She mumbled out, clenching her fingers in his hair as she felt his slick tongue invade deep into her throat, licking her with its tip − she was panting into his mouth, shocked, involuntarily responding by rocking her hips to his movements.

"− undress −" He breathed out, rising up on his knees, pulling the material of his sweatshirt over his head with a quick, impatient swipe of his hands − she stared at him with wide eyes, feeling her insides clench greedily around nothing at the sight of his bare chest.

Her trembling fingers quickly rose to the buttons of her shirt, undoing it one by one, exposing her skin piece after piece. She shuddered and moaned, surprised, as his hands pushed the material aside, revealing her breasts and stomach.

His lips parted in desire at the sight − his hand tentatively rose higher, running gently over her bare flesh, kneading and massaging her breast between his fingers.

For the first time he was looking at her naked body, at what he was doing, and she felt like she was going to die of desire. It seemed to her that everything that happened next was like a dream − his swollen lips that clung to hers, their panting as they impatiently slid every piece of their clothing off each other, when at last his bare skin pressed against hers.

"− Aemond −" She gasped out into his mouth, feeling his thick length rubbing against her achingly swollen folds, their hands trailing blindly over their naked, sweaty bodies, pressing into their exposed skin as if to melt them into one.

"− fuck − so warm − so soft − like silk −" He murmured, sliding his lips down to her jaw, neck and shoulders, leaving wet, sticky trails behind − her body arched back with her innocent, surprised whine as his mouth finally pressed down around her puffy, hard nipple and began to suck on it.

"− yes − God, yes −" She mumbled, involuntarily spreading her legs in front of him − she heard his grunt of delight as he moved his hips back in a soft motion so that a moment later she could feel the fat, leaking head of his cock begin to push against her slick opening.

She guided him with the movement of her body to where he should slide in, only to hear his sigh of delight a moment later as he thrust deeply into her with an impatient, desperate push of his hips.

"− yes − yes, yes, yes −" She panted, tilting her head back with her eyes closed, digging her fingers into the hot skin of his buttocks, startling him as she threw her legs around his waist, crossing them over his back.

Nothing but grunts and noises of pleasure left his throat as, with his lips pressed against her nipple, he pounded into her again and again with deep, greedy, fast thrusts, from which their bodies slapped against each other again and again with loud, sticky splats.

For the first time in her life, she was experiencing something so animal and spiritual at the same time − him deep inside her, stretching her tight, fleshy walls apart, doing what was natural to man, what Adam had done to Eve back in Eden.

"− forgive me − I −" He breathed out at last, as if with each successive brutal thrust of his hips he understood that there would be no turning back from this, that they had crossed a line after which nothing would be the same again, that he would take her for himself in every sense of the word.

"− inside me − please, inside me −" She mumbled helplessly, thinking only of the fact that she craved his seed inside her, that she could be his lover, his whore, bear his children if it meant spending her life by his side.

By the side of the man she loved.

She reached her peak with a sweet little moan of relief at the thought, at the image of herself and him, holding their children in their arms. She heard him gasp loudly at her words and closed his eyes, panting heavily as she suddenly felt something hot and sticky squirt out of him deep inside her.

"− f-fuck − fuck, oh, God −" He mumbled out, rocking his hips inside her with a loud click of their shared wetness for a moment longer, his mouth wide open, his eyes closed, as if he wanted to remember this moment forever.

After a moment, he looked at her − there was a calmness in his eyes and some kind of certainty, as if he already knew what was right.

"− marry me −"

[randomfandomlov3]

Heat Thief

Warnings: Fluff, Pregnancy, Health concerns, let me know if I missed any.

WC~1995

A/N - Tried to keep reader description to a minimum. Not edited much. This was just a cute thought that popped into my head. Thank you for reading <3

All Bucky could think about was getting home to his girl, his doll. The mission hadn’t taken very long, but he was absolutely exhausted. As he walked through the halls of the tower, he was confused because he normally heard her singing, or talking excitedly to someone about his return. They had decided that spending her whole day waiting for him in the jet bay to meet him when he got back, only caused them both distress. As he entered the elevator to get to their floor, Steve joined him. “Hey Punk, anything interesting happen while I was gone?” Bucky joked, knowing that the odds were low since he was only gone 3 days.

“Actually Buck, something has been happening, but I don’t know whether you would call it interesting, or if instead concerning might be a better word. Your girl, I think she might be unwell.” Steve said trying to break the news to his best friend as gently as he could.

Bucky’s heart pounded in his chest out of fear for his doll. What was wrong with her, was she going to be okay? Are we talking a cold, or something more serious?

Steve exhaled, and Bucky realized that he had said that out loud. “I don’t know exactly; her main symptom is that she hasn’t been able to get warm. She has been freezing for almost the entire time that you have been gone. She thinks it’s just the chills, but she doesn’t have a fever, in fact her body temperature is dropping. I have tried to get her to go see Helen, but she won’t. She said that she didn’t think this was a big deal, and she was nervous to go without you.” Steve finished just as the doors opened into the living room.

There she was, or at least that is what Bucky assumed, seeing the large mass of blankets gathered on the couch. “Doll, are you okay?” Bucky sweetly called out as he approached the shivering bundle. He knelt down in front of her to be face to face.

“Baby, your home! Yeah, I-I’m okay. I’ve ju-just got the ch-chills.” She gave him a big smile and tried to stop shivering. He put his lips to her forehead to check if she felt warm, but she didn’t.

“Doll, your lips are turning blue, let’s get you to Helen so we can make sure nothing serious is wrong.” Bucky reached into the bundle of blankets and picked his girl up. She was wearing his warmest clothes, which weren’t nearly as warm as she needed, because he always ran hot. As he carried her down to the medical wing, she curled deeper into his chest seeking his warmth.

Bucky explained the situation to Dr. Cho as he paced the small space.

“Hmm. Your body temperature is very low, almost in the range of hypothermia. Have you been partaking in any cold activities, that could have caused this?” She just shook her head in response to Helen’s question. “Okay, well, I am going to run some bloodwork, to see if we can figure out what is going on.” She took the blood that she needed and left the room.

Bucky clenched his metal fist out of worry. “Don’t worry, Doll, we’ll figure this out together what ever it is.” His girl shivered again, while nodding. He figured there could be no harm in trying to warm her a little bit. Bucky wrapped her up in his arms trying to give her as much of his heat as he could.

A few minutes later Dr. Cho returned to the room with a smile on her face. Bucky was confused as to why she looked happy, when his girl was close to experiencing hypothermia. “I have some good news and some less good news. But I am going to start with the good news, because the other news won’t make sense otherwise.” The smile on her face got bigger as she sat across from them. “You’re pregnant, my dear.” She paused to let the news sink in.

Bucky turned to his girl, excitement bubbling over. “We’re going to be parents, Doll.”

She nodded with happy tears in her eyes. “Now what’s the less go-good news?” There was a hint of fear behind her shiver.

Helen smile softened as she looked at her notes again. “So we also found trace amounts of the super soldier serum in your blood, which, of course, means that your baby received the serum from their father. And as we see in Barnes, the serum causes an elevated body temperature. For the average pregnancy, the fetus maintains a body temperature roughly 0.9®F higher than the mother, however, your baby’s body temperature is trying to get to that of a super soldier which is putting more stain on your body to produce heat for the baby to properly develop. Much like, if you would prefer this analogy, there is always a perfect temperature to hatch an egg, but for yours it requires much higher than what is typically produced.” She tried to simplify it given the looks upon their faces.

“So what can we do, Helen?” Bucky asked concerned for both his girl and his baby. He looked over at his doll, who had moved her hands down to her abdomen and had a soft look on her face.

“Heat, in a way that can get into her on a deeper level. Heating pads or bags, Warm not too hot showers or baths, warmed blankets, or probably the most effective way would be skin to skin contact with a certain super soldier who runs hot.” She gives a wink to Bucky.

“Okay thank you Helen, I’m gl-ad that we now know what’s going on.” Y/N shivered once again as Bucky scooped her into his arms.

“Before you go, I should let you know, that we are going to have to monitor you often throughout this pregnancy, because we don’t exactly know how the serum is going to effect things.” Dr. Cho handed Bucky a list of concerns to look out for.

“Thank you, Helen, I appreciate this very much,” Bucky said as he carried his doll out of the room and back to their floor.

He got her back to their room and decided that they should take a warm shower before getting into bed. He told her to get started and that he would join her in a minute. He heated up their towels and got the bed set up like a nest of warmth, with the warmest and fluffiest blankets he could find. Bucky then went back into the bathroom and joined his girl. He wrapped his arms around her resting his hands on her lower abdomen. “I can’t believe that we are going to be parents, Doll.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and he heard her sigh and lean into him.

“I can’t wait to have a little version of us running around, but I swear if they have your stamina, you are tiring them out.” She laughed imagining their little one running around the tower.

“Oh, come on, Doll, you know you love my stamina.” He teased, his breath brushing against her ear, causing her to shiver for a different reason.

“I do, but if I have to put up with the energy that is bound to come while they are in the womb, you have to deal with it outside.” She looked at the man holding her with his head on her shoulder.

“I love you, Doll.” He pressed his lips to hers conveying all the love that he had in his body.

“I love you too, Baby.” They finished up in the shower and Bucky wrapped her up in the towel before carrying her to the bed. Her body shivered at the cool air. They both got under the blankets and although it felt like a sauna under there to Bucky, his girl finally started to warm up as she curled into his chest. His heartbeat and soft words lulled her into the first warm peaceful sleep she has had since he left for his mission.

“Night, Doll.” He pressed one more kiss to the top of her head, before falling asleep with a big smile on his face.

______________________________________________________________

She is now four months along, Baby is developing well, more than average, but still healthy, and still stealing heat. The team is excited to eventually meet their little nibbling and spoil them.

Bucky has been debating when to start his temporary leave from missions because the last thing he wants is for his doll to go into labour while he is not there for her and their baby. So while he was out on missions heating pads became her best friend.

Today Bucky was doing his workout for the day with a spectator, his girl didn’t feel like being alone right now and just wanted to be in his company. For some reason, She felt colder than most days today, so she figured she would use her heating pad, so she didn’t interrupt Bucky’s workout. She placed it on her bump and when she turned it on, she felt a strong kick right where it was sitting. She had felt the baby flutter before that but no kicks that aggressive. She turned the heating pad off as she rubbed her belly to ease the discomfort. Baby super soldiers kick hard.

“Doll? Is everything alright?” Bucky asked rushing over and kneeling in front of his girl. He placed his hand on her bump, and the baby started to flutter, although Bucky couldn’t feel it.

“Yeah, the baby just kicked for the first time, and wow is our baby going to be strong.” She giggled rubbing her belly. “Do you want to feel?”

He nodded enthusiastically, “Absolutely, I would love to.” He kept his hand on her bump as she turned the heating pad back on. Sure enough, the baby aggressively kicked at it.

“I think our little one can tell the difference between artificial heat, and heat that comes from their daddy. And have decided to make their opinion about it very well known to me.” She turned off the heating pad and took it off, giggling. All of a sudden, a shiver overcomes her. Well, it’s not that sudden since if she didn’t have some form of heat on her she would start shivering for the past months. Thankfully, Tony had figured out a way to make some heating for Bucky’s her clothes. That was best for when she had to run errands, or anything really that required walking for longish periods.

Bucky sat down beside her, pulling her in to give her heat. “It’s been decided, I am stepping back from missions until our little one is here and settled.”

She must have heard him wrong, right? “Baby, you don’t have to do that. I promise we’ll be fine.” She knew how important missions were to him. “You love going on missions, they are an important part of your life.”

He shook his head. “You and this baby are the most important parts of my life. And if our little one likes my warmth, I will be there for both of you. I can’t stand the thought of you two being uncomfortable while I am away.” Bucky’s right hand started to caress her bump, causing their little one to little tap their daddy’s hand.

“Our little one already loves you so much. Just like their Mama. I love you, Baby.” Her heart swelled at the bond already forming between the baby and their daddy.

“I love you too, Doll. I love you both so much. I cannot wait to meet our little one.” He held her as tight as he could.

Bucky knew he had to go talk to the team about taking off active missions for a while, but that could wait until later, right now his world needed him.

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box— Cruel Weather (End)

story/original request based off this ask: Reactions to Sissy Getting Hurt

warnings: swearing, accident, mentions of injuries, surgery, mentions of pain medications, crying, anxiety, overall angst

word count: ~7.9k

General Series Masterlist

part one — part two — part three — part four

a/n i did not edit this much at all so excuse all typos!

THERE WILL NOT BE AN EPILOGUE! THIS IS THE HAPPY ENDING! IT’S STILL SAD BUT THIS IS WHAT WE GET!!

————————

You started to hear quiet voices, and then a really pissed off Quinn. You drowned it out, but you couldn’t drown out the pain that shot through you when Trevor was shaken awake. Everybody was suddenly on guard when you cried out in pain. Trevor slowly sat up and smacked Quinn on the arm, “Look what you did!”

“Sissy, I’m–”

“Not your fault,” you grunted out through twinges of pain. You gripped Trevor’s hand with all your might, trying to breathe through it. Your body felt heavy against the pillows when the pain finally dulled. You took deep breaths to relax as Trevor rubbed circles on your hand with his thumb and ran his fingers through your hair in a calming motion. You nodded at him with your eyes closed when you felt better.

“Go back to sleep if you need, sweet girl,” Trevor whispered. “We’ll still be here when you wake up.”

You opened your eyes to look at Quinn, who looked scared out of his mind.

“Come here,” you told him. Quinn carefully stepped towards you, and once he got close, you could see the tears forming in his eyes. “You didn’t know. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Trevor relinquished your hand so Quinn could hold it, “You’re awake.”

“Something like that,” you said drowsily. You turned your head to look at everyone else that was in the room, and you were surprised at how many people were actually here. Your mom, dad, Jack, Luke, Cole, Alex, Jamie, and Matty. “Hi.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. No one could believe it. Luke shoved his way through the small crowd to the side where Quinn and Trevor were and sat down on the edge of your bed. You looked at Quinn, and with that one look he knew that your big sister mode was kicking in. He let go of your hand and you reached out to Luke, who gripped on with both of his hands.

“I’m here,” you said softly. “I’m okay. Okay? I’m not leaving you.”

“You–” Luke got too choked up.

“I know, come here,” you said. “Lay your head down on my chest. Trevor did it last night, it doesn’t hurt.”

Luke was taller and lankier than Trevor, but with Trevor and you guiding him, he got settled. You took some deep breaths and told him to feel your heartbeat, just as you did for Trevor.

“See? My heart’s beating now. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered as you ran your fingers through his curls.

“Promise?” Luke squeaked. He was crying and it broke your heart.

“I promise.”

You couldn’t fight being asleep anymore, and everyone could tell.

“Luke, let’s get off of Sissy so that she can sleep,” Jim said.

You shook your head, “He’s fine. Trevor did it last night. I’m okay.”

And with that, the drugs pulled you under.

– – –

Luke was letting silent tears fall, “Trevor?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“You sure she’s okay?”

“She’s okay,” he assured him.

“Then why do you have an IV again?” Jamie asked him.

Of course Jamie would be the first one to notice. Or the first one to call him out at the very least.

“I uh… they made me step out of the room while they were doing tests and the thing attached to her finger that reads her heartbeat got knocked off. I lost it when I heard the flatline again and couldn’t see her, so I got sedated again,” Trevor explained. “It wasn’t real, it was just…”

“You’re going to be going through this a lot, aren’t you?” Jamie asked him. Trevor sighed and nodded, “Probably.”

Jamie walked over and put his arm around his friend, a simple motion that let Trevor know that that was okay. That they’d get through this together. Not just between everyone, but them specifically. They live together. They’ll be the ones majorly helping Y/N when she’s released from the hospital. Jamie will be the one with him when they have to go on their first away game. Jamie and Trevor will be each other’s rocks.

“You doing alright, Lukey?” Jack asked his brother.

“She’s here,” was all he said.

Quinn patted his back in an attempt to comfort him, “She sure is, Lukey.”

“Mom? Can you go talk to a nurse to get some updates?” Jack asked. She smiled and told the pack of boys that she’d be right back.

The weight of the world fell off everybody’s shoulders. Seeing her awake and hearing her speak was a marvel of a sight. Not a soul in the room could believe it. Not a soul in the room didn’t feel relief.

Ellen came back with a nurse who could update the room on Sissy.

“Everything is looking good for her. Her vitals are great, and we’re keeping her on high, but safe, levels of pain medication. That’s why she’s in and out of consciousness. And all of the medication that affected her from waking up from the anesthesia is out of her system, so she’ll be just fine when it’s time for her shoulder surgery,” she said.

“Woah, woah, woah– next surgery?!” Trevor shouted. “She almost died after your last one and you want to put her under again?!”

Trevor felt like he couldn’t breathe again. He almost lost you to a surgery that was supposed to be no big deal, and they wanted to do it to you again?

“Z, breathe,” Jamie said to him, but Trevor yanked his arm away from his touch.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Trevor repeated. He was slowly backing up against the wall.

“Trevor,” Quinn tried. He wanted to calm him down, but him freaking out was freaking him out, too. Everyone almost lost you. Not just him. “I don’t like the idea either, but she needs this surgery. You don’t want her to be in pain, do you?”

Quin was treating him like a child, but Trevor was looking like he was close to another freak out.

“Z, we can’t sedate you every time you’re feeling like this. You need to learn how to get through this so that you can do it at home. Now, look at me, and breathe with me, okay?”

It took a few tries for Trevor to actually get it together, but he was still crying.

“I don’t want her to be in pain. I love her, but I can’t lose her,” Trevor said.

Quinn nodded and brought him into a hug, “I know. Us, too.”

Since Quinn was able to calm Trevor down, he asked for the IV to be removed since it had drained out anyway. Trevor was exhausted and Ellen told him to go lay down again in the recliner. Luke remained attached to Sissy and was slowly drifting off, too.

“Is anyone not scared about Sissy going in for another surgery?” Jack asked, keeping his voice down for Luke and Trevor.

“I’m trying to focus on the fact that she needs it,” Jamie answered.

The consensus was clear, everyone had at least a sliver of concern for the possibility for things to go wrong. Jim and Ellen remained strong and comforted the boys with the fact that the doctors now know what to use for her so that she wakes up safely and in a reasonable amount of time this round. But even they were worried for the girl that has become their only daughter.

“Remember when we first all played against each other when I was in college?” Quinn piped up, looking for any means to distract himself.

“She wore a shirt that said ‘I just hope both teams have fun!’ How could I forget?” Cole laughed.

“I’m just glad she doesn’t do that now,” Jack said. “Although, for once I’d like her to wear my jersey when we play against the Canucks or Ducks!”

“That’s not going to happen and you know it,” Alex teased him.

“She wears your jersey when we play against you,” Cole offered.

“Yeah, but she wears mine whenever we play against any of you,” Matthew smirked. “Except against Quinn or Trevor. Then it’s theirs.”

“What does she wear when we play against the Canucks?” Jamie asked.

“Z and I have to play air hockey to decide it,” Quinn told them, sending everyone into a fit of laughter. “But she might add you into the mix.”

“She’s something else,” Jamie said.

“You have no idea, Jamie. She’ll get worse,” Jack told him. “But it’ll only make you love her more.”

“Now that, I believe.”

– – –

You woke up to the muffled sounds of your friends talking and laughing. It brought a smile to your face that now that you were awake, your friends could relax a bit. You just hope it sticks.

What is sticking, however, is the dull pain. A dull pain that’s growing. You never tell Luke to let go or to go away if he needs you, but it was too much right now. You felt extra guilty because you were pretty sure that he was still asleep.

“Quintin,” you said. Your voice was strained and so quiet that you weren’t sure that he heard you. You tried again, but when you did the dryness of your throat made you cough, which just added to the pain and you cried out. That got everyone’s attention. “Quintin, I need you to get Luke off me, it’s starting to hurt.”

You were visibly in discomfort, and trying to move was not your friend. Ellen stepped in and eased you while Quinn carefully woke up Luke.

“It really hurts, mom,” you whimpered. She gave you a sad smile and brushed back your hair, “I know, Sissy. It’ll pass. Quinn’s waking him up.”

Luke felt tremendously guilty, and it took you multiple times to assure him that he was completely fine before the pain medications slowly started to wear off. And because you were on such high doses, it wasn’t time for you to safely have another round. So you had to wait.

“Can I get you anything, little mouse?”

You looked over and smiled at Matthew over the nickname, “Water?”

Matthew got up to find you some water, and you looked around the room to try and get a gauge of everyone’s emotions. You were pretty good at reading your friends and family, but the one who stuck out the most to you was Alex.

“Turc? Do you need a moment alone?”

“What?” he asked, caught off guard. “No, I’m fine…I’m–”

“Hey, can I get a second with Alex?” you asked the room. You could tell Alex was embarrassed, but no one else said anything as they left. “Come here.”

Alex got up and moved to the chair that was right next to you. You grabbed his hand and smiled at him in an effort to let him know that it was okay.

“You need another surgery,” he blurted out.

“That’s not all of it and you know it,” you said. You knew him too well.

Alex sighed and bounced his leg, trying to calm down enough to actually tell you what was on his mind.

“Yesterday when you were still in the coma, I couldn’t come talk to you alone. Everyone else did it days before. Yesterday Cole and Matthew did, but I couldn’t. It felt like I would be saying goodbye to you, and I didn’t want to face that,” he admitted.

“So tell me what you would’ve said.”

Alex took a deep breath, “I would’ve told you how much I miss you. And that you mean the world to me and have ever since high school. I would’ve told you that the first time I met you, and I saw how you and Trevor were acting, I knew you were going to be in my life forever because you two are perfect for each other and I knew it before he admitted his feelings to us. I would’ve told you how much I love you. How much I was trying to keep it together but was slowly failing to. And I think I would’ve told you goodbye just in case you flatlined again in the middle of the night and I wouldn’t get a chance to.”

You squeezed his hand when you noticed his tears, “Good thing you get to say hello then.”

“Hello,” he breathed out a small, forced laugh.

“Hi,” you said right back. “You’ll be okay. I’m okay. We’ll all get through this together, alright? And I love you, too.”

– – –

It wasn’t fun hearing what everyone else told you while you were in a coma, but you felt like it needed to be done. Maybe it shouldn’t be your job to help everyone, but you would get the help you’ll need in return. It broke your heart hearing that Luke couldn’t figure out how to be the strong one like everyone was telling him to. It broke your heart hearing that Jack was trying to hold it together for everyone and that he was terrified of having to go back to Jersey before you woke up. How Jamie felt guilty for being one of the reasons you were in the car in the first place. How Quinn was losing his mind and felt so defeated when you squeezed his hand and he learned it was nothing. How Matty was sent here by his coach because he wasn’t playing well. How Cole told you that his life changed forever when you came into it and that his break was hard because he held it in.

Trevor broke your heart the most. It broke you that he was plagued by nightmares when he was only sleeping because he knew you’d want him to. It broke your heart that he went catatonic for a few hours. It broke your heart that he watched your heart flat line. It broke your heart how guilty he felt. You couldn’t bear the thought of your forever getting cut short with him. Trevor almost had to experience that.

You didn’t get much time to be with everyone as a group before a nurse and a doctor came in and asked for everyone but “your emergency contacts” to leave. That meant that only Trevor and your parents could stay in the room.

The doctor began to go over your next surgery with you for your shoulder. It was a shoulder replacement surgery, and you didn’t really pay attention to any of the details. All you knew was that the fractures were bad enough to need it, and that it was scheduled for tomorrow at 1pm.

You just woke up from a roughly two day coma post a surgery and now they wanted to put you under again? And they were just going to hope that if they used different sedatives and started the treatment they used to wake you up immediately it would be okay?

You felt terrified. But you knew everyone else did, too. Probably more than you were, since they were the ones that had to sit idly by while you were unconscious.

You held all your fears in.

For Ellen.

For Jim.

For Jack.

For Cole.

For Alex.

For Matty.

For Jamie.

For Luke.

For Quinn.

For Trevor.

For Trevor. For Trevor. For Trevor.

You could do anything for Trevor, and this will just have to be one of those things.

“Are you okay?” he asked you. He sat on the edge of your bed and held your hand, rubbing circles with his thumb on it. “Do you need a minute before we let everyone else back in?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m alright.”

Trevor eyed you suspiciously, “Don’t lie to me, sweet girl.”

“I’ll be okay, and having everyone in here will help,” you told him. It wasn’t a lie. You will be okay, eventually. And everyone in this small little room will be a lovely distraction. Your surgery isn’t until tomorrow, so all you had to do was make it through the day.

“Sissy, I got someone who wants to talk to you,” Luke said smiling as he came back in.

“Who?” you asked, smiling back. Luke said nothing and just handed you his phone. “Duker!”

“Hey, Sissy, how are you? I’ve been worried sick,” Dylan said.

“I can definitely say I physically haven’t been worse,” you told him.

“That’s the most Y/N answer I’ve ever heard,” he laughed. “Glad the coma didn’t change you!”

“It’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than that to change me,” you assured him. And the rest of the room. And yourself.

Mainly yourself. Lord knows you needed it.

“I’m coming tomorrow, okay? I know you miss me!”

“I really do,” you laughed. “Be good, Duker.”

“I think I can make that promise for once,” he joked.

You were getting tired again after finally being given more pain medication. You made grabby hands towards Quinn and motioned for him to lay next to you like Trevor did before visiting hours started.

“Are you sure this doesn’t hurt?” Quinn asked as he cautiously laid down next to you.

“You’re just next to me, Quintin. I promise you, it’s okay,” you told him.

You kept motioning for him to come closer to you until you could comfortably lay your head against his shoulder.

“You haven’t called me Quintin in a while,” he said low. “Not much since you left middle school.”

“Middle school was hard,” you mumbled sleepily. “This is hard.”

Quinn turned his head and kissed your temple, “Quintin it is.”

– – –

Jamie cautiously stepped towards the bed when he knew that Y/N was asleep. He slowly sat down in the chair closest to the head of her bed, right next to Quinn.

“Can I?” Jamie asked him. He took her hand in his when he nodded yes. “I know I haven’t known her as long–”

“That doesn’t matter to her,” Quinn cut him off. “The day she met you, she called me and said I should be worried about you taking my place as her best friend. Sissy loves you, and she knows that you love her. She doesn’t care that you met what, three months ago? She loves everyone fiercely, and you’ve been deemed lucky enough to make that list.”

Trevor got up and placed his hands on Jamie’s shoulders, squeezing them supportively, “It was her idea to move you in.”

“Really?”

“She probably would’ve moved your stuff out from Lindholm’s with or without your permission,” he laughed.

“I’ve even heard about you from her,” Matthew told Jamie. “You’re here for her. You’re going to be one half of the two people taking care of her most of the time. And trust me, she cares about you. As long as you never wrong her, she’s going to be there for you for life.”

Jamie looked down and tried to hide a smile as he played with her fingers. He didn’t know what it was about her, but the second she met somebody, they loved her. Her charm, her humor, her boldness. Sissy is something special. And when she lets you in, truly lets you in, she makes sure you know you’re loved and that she would drop everything for you if you need her.

She loves being needed.

She loves being wanted.

Not everyone knew that this was killing her. Not everyone knew that her needing help and barely being able to do a thing for anyone else was going to be detrimental for her. But Jamie does. He hasn’t known her long, but he knows her. He knows that he might need to act like he needs her for something, even if he doesn’t, just to make her happy.

Jamie would do it for her. He will do it for her. Because everyone was right, once you know her, she’d drop anything for you, and he intends to do the same thing for her.

“Is she scared, Z?” Cole asked. Trevor pursed his lips. He didn’t want to expose her, but he was a terrible liar.

“She won’t tell me, but I saw the look in her eyes. I could feel her fear. I asked if she needed a moment and she told me that she’s fine and everyone back in the room would be a good distraction, but I know she’s petrified.”

“That’s a big word, Mr. Boston,” Quinn teased him. Trevor rolled his eyes and flicked him, not being able to do anything else since Y/N was laying against his shoulder. “She has you, Z. You’ll get her through it.”

“She has you, too. She has all of us,” Trevor added.

“And we have her,” Luke said. He still looked scared.

Jack threw his arm around his little brother, “And we have her.”

— — —

Today’s the day.

Today’s the day you have to go under for another surgery.

And everyone had the same fear. For some, it was slight. For others it was more than slight, but they know she needs the surgery. But the rest? The fear had taken over their entire being. And who are they? Trevor, Quinn, Jack, Luke, and you. They were internally losing their minds. They felt sick. And every tick of the clock made their chests feel tighter and tighter.

Trevor hasn’t done well with you out of his sight and he knows it’s going to be worse this time. He’s determined to not have to be sedated. He’s going to have away games. He’s going to have roadies. He’s going to have to learn how to cope. He can’t be eased into it. You’re going to be gone for hours, and he’ll have to sit by your bedside and wait for you to wake up again. He knows you’ll wake up, but that quiet voice deep inside his head telling him that you won’t is eating him alive.

Quinn had taken over the “Sissy” role. Jack had practically snapped, Luke was a mess and was dead silent when he wasn’t, Trevor couldn’t breathe half the time, and you need him, too. He’s the oldest. He feels like it’s his job. He’s always stepped up. He’s always been the big brother. He’s always done whatever he can and more for you. There’s just no one helping him.

Jack feels like he’s useless. He can’t do anything for you, and he’s going to have to go back to Jersey eventually. Scratch that— he’s going to have to go back soon and he won’t get to help you. He feels like you don’t need him when you have Quinn. You always need him. He’s your best friend, your better half, you’re everything to each other. You won’t need him when you have Trevor. Your boyfriend, your entire world. The person you live with. The person who needs you just as bad as you need him. The person you’ll get through this with. The person who’ll be there for you the entire time. Hell, you won’t need him when you have Jamie. You love him, and you barely know him. And he’s going to be with you the whole time. He doesn’t have to leave.

Luke could barely wrap his head around it. Everything was going too fast and he could barely keep up. He just got you, his sister, back and in a few hours he was going to have to go back to wondering when you’re going to wake up. He couldn’t hold on to your hand. He couldn’t fall asleep on you. He felt like he couldn’t be vulnerable. Not when everyone else is screaming, too. He just told his best friend that you’re going to be okay. He just told his best friend that he’s okay. One of those is a lie. The other one could be, too, only he doesn’t know that answer, yet.

And you? You don’t know that’s how everyone is feeling, because you can’t think of anything else other than your intense fear of not waking up. You couldn’t escape the cage the thought of dying was putting you in. You need this surgery. You need to get better. You know the doctors are prepared this time. You know that your medication has more or less left your system and that everything should be okay. But you don’t want to see everyone’s faces when you wake up again. Full of shock, almost as if they were seeing a ghost. And you know that a couple days after this surgery, you’ll be released. Which means everyone will have to leave you again. You’ve never had to experience anything this traumatic without your brothers. Never. You didn’t want them to go most of all. You’re beyond grateful that you’ll have Trevor, and Jamie told you he won’t be leaving you, but you need your brothers. Facetimes won’t be enough this time.

You were pulled out from your thought prison by a nurse informing you it was almost time for surgery and that everyone will need to clear out so that they can prep you. Everyone said their goodbyes, some longer than others, and Jack was the last one walking out the door. The heart monitor signaled that panic was taking over you and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Jack!” you screamed. Tears were streaming down your face and your free hand was shaking. “Jack don’t–”

Jack pushed aside the nurse in the room and sat on the edge of your bed and gripped onto your hand.

“Sir–”

“She just needs a minute! Please,” Jack begged her. The nurse saw how close you were to a major freakout before Jack got to your side and left to stand outside the door. Jack took your hand in both of his and squeezed it tight, “It’ll be okay, Sissy. It will be. We all asked the surgeon every question possible. He’s done this surgery countless times.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” you asked shakily. “Right here. Holding my hand. Not Trevor or Quinn. You.”

Jack smiled and leaned over to kiss your forehead, “In the chair, or on the bed?”

“On the bed,” you answered.

“Then on the bed holding your hand is where I’ll be the second you open your eyes, Sissy,” Jack assured you. “I promise. Now you gotta be strong for us. Don’t fight the lovely nurses and doctors and surgeons that are here to help you. Just breathe, and now I’ll be sitting right here when it’s over.”

The nurses that came to wheel you off to the surgery unit told Jack he could walk with you until you reached the double doors, so he did. He held onto your hand and called out once again that he’ll be right next to you when you wake up when the doors came. You held back your tears. You wanted to be able to tell Jack that you were strong.

– – –

“Where did you go?” Luke asked Jack when he finally joined them in the waiting room.

“Sissy called out for me, so I calmed her down and walked with her to the surgical unit,” he explained. “I don’t know why–”

“She loves and needs you, too, Jack,” Ellen interrupted her son. “Just like everyone else.”

Jack smiled slightly, semi hating the fact that his mom knew exactly how he was feeling.

“She asked me to be sitting on her bed holding her hand when she wakes up,” he said softly, still happy that she wanted him. That she needed him.

“I’m only allowing that because she asked,” Trevor teased him.

“Of course you are, bud,” Jack laughed.

Jack sat down between his brothers and leaned back in his chair. All that there was to do now was wait. Something that was way too familiar to everyone here.

– – –

It was a long surgery, over four hours. But Jack was true to his word and parked himself on the edge of your bed and held your hand as he waited for you to come to. Every minute passed was agonizing. The doctors told everyone that you’d be waking up within an hour but that you’ll be very out of it and might not be awake for long. At the forty-six minute mark, everyone let out a breath.

Your groans caused all ten heads to snap towards you. Jack inched closer to you and used his free hand to pet your hair in the same way he used to do when he had to wake you up for school when you were sleeping through your endless alarms.

“Sissy?” he whispered. “Are you with us? Can you open your eyes for me?”

You tried to pull away from him but felt a surge of pain when you did. Jack worked to settle you back down and looked to Trevor for help.

“I normally kiss her to wake her up,” Trevor told him. “She calls it ‘waking up Disney princess style.’”

“Be my guest,” Jack laughed.

Trevor softly placed his hand to cup your face and bent down to softly kiss you, “Good morning, sweet girl. Can you open those pretty little eyes for me?”

You clenched your eyes once more before opening them up.

“Are you a Prince?” you asked dreamily. Luke had to hide into his mom’s shoulder to keep from laughing out loud.

“Sorry, sweet girl. I’m just your boyfriend,” Trevor replied.

You looked down when you noticed a hand was holding your hand. You followed the hand to the owner, and it was not the man who just told you he’s your boyfriend.

“Then who are you?” you asked the hand holder.

“I’m Jack, your brother. You asked me to sit on your bed and hold your hand for when you woke up,” the hand holder told you.

“I don’t have a brother,” you said, shaking your head.

Jack’s grip on your hand tightened and you could feel his fear.

“You– you don’t?” he asked tentatively. He was worried that the drugs had temporarily taken your mind back to before you moved in. Before you were old enough to know that family doesn’t have to be blood.

“No. I’m a cloud, I can’t have any brothers,” you said seriously.

“But you can have a boyfriend?” your boyfriend asked.

“You’re a cloud, too,” you told him. “You have fluffy cloud hair, Prince.”

“Trevor,” he told you with a soft laugh.

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m pretty sure your name is Prince. Prince of the clouds. And I’m Princess of the clouds.”

“Clouds can have brothers,” Jack insisted. “You have three.”

Jack was starting to make sense. As you looked around the room at everyone else in the room, you saw two familiar faces that matched Jack’s story.

“I do have three!” you gasped. “Quintin, Jacky Boy, and Lukey Moosey!”

Jack lifted your hand and leaned his head against it, shaking his head and laughing, “I’m Jacky Boy, Sissy. Look at me.”

You looked at him again and really focused this time, “Jacky Boy! I missed you!”

“I missed you, too,” he laughed.

You looked around the room and your smile grew exponentially at every person you saw. You couldn’t believe your whole world was here.

“Hi Mom, and Dad, and Coley, and Turcs, and Quintin, and Lukey Moosey, and Jamie Baby, and my rat! Matty! You’re here! You’re never here!”

Matthew moved over to the end of your bed and placed both hands on the edge of it, “I was worried about you, Little Mouse. That’s why we’re all here.”

Quinn came over next to Jack and Trevor, “You got hurt, remember? You just had another surgery.”

“No, Quintin,” you argued. “I’m a cloud. I can’t get hurt.”

“Well then you’re a medical marvel,” he said. “Because you got super hurt. Are you in pain?”

“Quintin, listen! I just told you, I’m a cloud. And Prince is a cloud. And Coley. I don’t know what the rest of you are, but we’re clouds.”

“What type of clouds are we?” Cole asked you.

“You and Prince look sad, so you’re nimbostratus clouds. But me? I’m a cumulus,” you told them, full of confidence.

“Did she just… use scientific cloud names?” Alex asked, laughing in disbelief.

“I think she did,” Luke said.

“We look sad because you’re hurt, Ms. Cumulus Cloud,” Trevor said. “But I’m really glad you don’t feel it.”

“I’m just doing my cloud thing,” you said as you yawned.

“Sleepy?” Ellen asked.

“Yeah, I’m a sleepy cloud,” you nodded. “But Jacky Boy needs to lay next to me so I can nap.”

“And why’s that?” Jack asked.

“You’re holding my hand. You need me. So you need to sleep next to me to fix that,” you said matter-of-factly.

Trevor and Quinn stepped out of the way so that Jack could carefully lay beside you.

“I’ll protect you,” you told him. “I need everyone to give me a kiss goodnight! Do you need any, Jacky?”

“I think I’m alright,” he smiled.

Jack leaned over and kissed your cheek. You smiled and nodded your head side to side in a dance-like motion as you made everyone else kiss your cheeks and forehead goodnight.

“And you, my Prince, need to kiss me on the lips four times,” you told him. “Because we say something to each other with four words. I don’t know what, but I know there’s four words.”

“I–” kiss. “Love–” kiss. “You–” kiss. “Forever.” kiss.

“What do I say?”

“You say ‘I love you, always,’” he smiled at you.

“I love you, always, Prince!”

“I love you, forever, Princess.”

– – –

The second time you woke up, you were much more lucid and aware of the situation. You weren’t in agony, but you weren’t exactly having fun. You lifted your head off of whoever’s shoulder you were laying on and groaned at the brightness of the room.

“Somebody needs to turn off the sun or I’m going to shoot it down myself,” you grunted with your eyes squeezed shut.

You didn’t know who, but someone fixed your problem, and you were able to slowly open your eyes. You looked out to see the window’s curtains were open and that it was actually dark outside.

One new face was in the room, Dylan.

You smiled at him, “Hi, baby boy.”

“I was kind of hoping I could see you shoot down the sun, but seeing you awake works, too, Sissy,” Dylan joked.

“Are you still a cloud, Princess?” Trevor asked you.

You turned your head to look at him, also acknowledging the fact that it was Jack next to you by a simple squeeze of his hand, confused.

“Cloud?”

“You were still out of it when you first woke up,” Trevor laughed. “You called me Prince, and you were hellbent on the fact that you were a cloud and that you couldn’t possibly be injured because of it.”

“Were we… all clouds?”

“I wish,” Quinn joked. “Only Z and Cole were clouds. Nimbostratus, to be exact. Not sure why you remembered the types of clouds.”

“Clouds are fucking cool, that’s why,” you sassed him.

“You’re lucky you’re hurt,” Quinn said in a jokingly warning tone.

“Or what? You’d lightly shove me? I’m so scared,” you teased him back. “You’re just jealous because I didn’t deem you a cloud. Suck it.”

It was nice finally feeling calm for the first time since you woke up. No one was terrified about the upcoming surgery now that it’s happened. No one was worried that you wouldn’t wake up again now that you have. It was almost fun being with everyone, it was just calmer than it normally is when you’re all together.

You shoved Jack aside so that Dylan could lay next to you because ���you’ve missed your baby boy.”

“I’m your twin!” Jack protested.

“You’ve been laying with me,” you told him. “I’ve gone without seeing Duker longer and he’s my baby boy bestie brother!”

“I’m her alliteration,” Dylan said, smiling cheekily.

“Yeah, he’s my alliteration,” you copied his grin.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Jack countered.

“You’re just jealous,” Dylan stuck his tongue out at him.

“Alright, alright,” you cut them off. “You’re both my boys, so calm down. You’ve had your turn.”

“Do we all get a turn?” Luke asked jokingly.

“Do we have to reserve times?” Jamie asked, laughing.

“You and Z will get me all season, but the rest of them? Yes. Someone make a list and play rock paper scissors for the order.”

“You’re a mess,” Trevor laughed. “My beautiful mess.”

“Damn right,” you jokingly smirked.

– – –

It wasn’t too long before visiting hours ended and you had to tell everyone goodbye. Trevor now had a bigger blanket for you two in the bed since you’d been cold and he wasted no time crawling in next to you when Quinn (the last one on the list to be next to you) got off the bed.

“Be good!” Quinn called out.

“We physically have to! Otherwise we would not!” you shouted back.

“I didn’t want to know that!”

“You’re welcome! I love you, bubs!”

“I love you, too, Sissy!”

“I’ll never understand you two,” Trevor laughed.

“Quinn and I are something I’ve never seen before. Not even in movies,” you said fondly. “I’m gonna keep it that way.”

“Are we?”

“My love, we’re everything.”

Trevor took your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to it. When he dropped it, you tapped four times on your lips. Trevor smiled and repeated what he did when you first woke up.

“I–” kiss. “Love–” kiss. “You–” kiss. “Forever–” kiss.

“I love you, always,” you whispered to him. “How did you do while I was under?”

“Jamie helped a lot. I don’t know why watching The Hunger Games helps, but it does,” Trevor admitted.

“Because it’s my favorite series, obviously,” you smiled.

“No, I think it’s because there’s a lot of Katniss in you,” he told you. “You’d do anything for those you love, especially your brothers. You stick up for what’s right. You’ve been through hell and you’re still surviving. You’re Katniss.”

You blushed and played with his fingers, unsure of what to say to that.

“Does that make you Peeta?”

“I was thinking I’m more like Finnick,” Trevor laughed.

“Well, he was my first love. So, I guess that’s fitting.”

“Your first love?” Trevor teased you. “Am I nothing to you?”

“Hey! Quinn officiated a wedding for me and Finnick!”

“Then I guess he’ll have to officiate ours,” Trevor smiled.

“Trevor Zegras, are you talking about marriage in a hospital?”

“Not right now, but if this experience has taught me anything, it’s that you’re the one.”

“Sap,” you smiled.

You were beat, and surprised that you’d stayed awake for so long with all the pain medication in you. But now that it was only Trevor with you, you felt safe. You felt at peace. You felt at home. You laid your head on his shoulder and let yourself drift off to the sounds of Catching Fire in the background. You weren’t scared to fall asleep tonight. You weren’t scared that something was going to happen to Trevor. For the first time in three days, you felt good.

– – –

At 9:34am, all of your paperwork was finished and you were free to go home. You, Jamie, Trevor, Ellen, and Jim were all given a breakdown of how to take care of you, pain medication times, and other stuff like that. Jim and Ellen would be staying a little longer with you in the beginning before they’ll have to go back home. Trevor and Jamie would be the ones doing it the most after your parents left, and they needed to be fully prepared to teach Dani when she’d come to help you on roadies. Ellen volunteered, but Dani was quite persistent.

You were sent off with some strong sedatives to help with the car ride home. You were glad, too, because even with them you were still in some major discomfort. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like without them.

Everyone was staying one more night before they had to go back to their own teams. You really didn’t want to have to be moved much, so Trevor and Quinn got you situated in yours and Trevor’s room and everyone would be in there until you decided it was time for bed.

First thing first, however, was a nap. The medication had made you so tired and you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. You had to lay pillows in between you and Trevor, which was terrible, but you could lay directly next to him while you napped since he would be staying awake. Everyone else went to the living room while Trevor gently held your hand and kissed your forehead to send you off to sleep.

– – –

Quinn didn’t wait too long before slipping back into the bedroom, “How’s she doing?”

“She hasn’t had to have the lower pain medications yet, so she's okay,” Trevor told him. “I’m not excited about that.”

“I’m not excited about leaving her,” Quinn said softly.

“Trust me, she isn’t either.”

The two boys talked quietly for a while to distract themselves from the predicament. Trevor couldn’t imagine what Quinn must be feeling. Trevor gets to stay with you; Quinn doesn’t. That’s been a common feeling throughout all of this.

“You’ll take care of her, right?” Quinn asked Trevor with tears threatening to fall out of his eyes.

“I’ll do everything I can and more for her. Always,” Trevor assured him.

“You better,” Quinn said softly.

All Quinn could do was look at you. Your bruised face looked better, but you still looked so frail and small that it hurt him. He had to make tonight and tomorrow count, but he knew that you’d be sleeping through a lot of it.

“Um… listen, if Luke needs her, she will kick you out of this bed. Same if she needs me or Jack or Luke or–”

“You can sleep next to her until you have to leave,” Trevor cut him off. “I know that’s what you really want. I’ll take the floor.”

You roughly heard the last of their conversation as you were slowly waking up, “Did you say Lukey needs me? Trevor, move your ass for him.”

“See?” Quinn laughed. “He doesn’t need you, but I’m sure he’d love to lay with you. Do you want everyone back in here?”

You sleepily nodded and continuously held your arm out until Luke came in.

“Lukey!” you cheered when he entered the room at the end of the herd of your loved ones. Luke laughed as he crawled into the bed and snuggled up close to you, “Good nap, Sissy?”

“Very,” you said.

“Oh! I want in on cuddles!” Dylan shouted. You laughed even more as he settled next to Luke and laid his head on his shoulder.

“You two are a mess,” you shook your head. “I love it.”

“This gonna be us when everyone leaves, Z?” Jamie joked.

“It better be!” you exclaimed.

Because you’d been in a coma for your weekly movie night with Cole and Alex, you decided that you’d watch the movie with everyone in your room. Blankets and pillows were handed out and people were all around the room. Jack and Jamie brought in the two arm chairs from the living room for Jim and Ellen to sit in, and everyone else was roughing it on the floor.

You sent Matty, Quinn, and Cole to get snacks and drinks for everyone, and Alex set the movie up.

“What movie have you deemed worthy enough to watch that’s not The Hunger Games, girly?”

“Top Gun,” you said with a grin.

“Yes! Finally!” Trevor cheered.

You barely watched the movie. You watched your friends and family instead. This experience is just as hard on them as for you, if not more. They deserve peace. They deserve a moment of calm, a moment of happiness. Before they all had to leave and, undoubtedly, worry.

“You okay?” Luke whispered to you.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you whispered back.

And for once, you were.

– – –

The goodbyes were hard, because they lasted all day. First Matty left, then Cole, then Dylan and Luke, then Jack, then Alex. Alex could’ve stayed, and he’ll be back frequently, but Quinn leaving last meant a lot to you. It was needed.

“You’ll call every day, right?” you asked him. Your lip was wobbling and you couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“Every minute that I can. I promise,” Quinn answered. “Be good to Trevor and Jamie.”

“Now that, I can’t promise,” you tried to joke.

Quinn kissed your forehead and squeezed your hand one last time before he left with your parents to go to the airport. You immediately started to sob when the door closed. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. You’d been crying all day as people left, but Quinn made you lose it. Trevor hated it because he couldn’t pull you into his arms and hold you to comfort you. You hated it for the same reason. You had to settle for leaning against his chest with his hand holding your right, and his other petting your hair.

“It’s alright, sweet girl,” Trevor cooed. “He’ll be back soon. We play against the Canucks the first week of November. I know his coach will let him stay here instead of at the hotel. It’s gonna be alright.”

“Say it,” you cried.

“Say what?” he asked, confused. “I love you?”

“No, my name. Say it,” you choked out.

Trevor felt a pang in his heart. This has never happened. You never needed Quinn so much that you wanted Trevor to call you by your nickname.

“It’s gonna be alright, Sissy. I’ll make sure of it,” Trevor said low. “I promise.”

“Do you need anything?” Jamie asked you warily. He’d never seen you cry this hard.

You rapidly shook your head no as you clung to Trevor as much as you could.

“Some ice water,” Trevor said. “With a straw, please.”

Jamie got up and went to the kitchen while Trevor continued to try and sooth you. Jamie was back quick and Trevor gently guided the straw to your mouth.

“Drink for me, sweet girl. That’s all you gotta do.”

The ice always helps. The sudden coldness triggers some slight pain receptors to pull you out of a panicked state, so it was a quick fix when you weren’t too far gone.

“There’s my girl,” Trevor cooed. “It’s okay.”

You calmed down, but some tears were still falling.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled.

“What for?”

“I need you, too. Not just Quinn. I really need you and I don’t want you to think that I–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Trevor interrupted. “I know you do. Quinn’s been with you for the hardest parts of your life. You always cry when he leaves. This isn’t any different. I love you, okay? Forever. You needing Quinn isn’t going to change that.”

“I love you, always,” you whispered.

You were worn out and were falling asleep against Trevor’s chest.

“Jamie Baby,” you weakly called out. “Come to bed. It’s nap time.”

Jamie smiled and slowly got into the bed next to Trevor. He leaned over and kissed your forehead, something you once again demanded, before laying against the pillows.

“I love you, Jamie Baby,” you said. “So, so much.”

“I love you, too, Y/N/N,” Jamie said back.

“And I love you, too, Trevy. Always.”

Trevor tilted your head towards him, “I–” kiss. “Love–” kiss. “You–” kiss. “Forever–” kiss.

———

reblogs appreciated! it helps spread the fic <3

[strangersmunsons]

read 'em and weep #3

you and Eddie spend more time together. romance blossoms.

Chapter 3 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 2 -> Here!

Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, lowkey shy!reader, new love and giddiness all around, and a brief cameo from Steve. No mention of reader's physical appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Word Count: ~5.5k this took me sooo, ridiculously long to finish. work, writer's block, etc kept getting in the way! hopefully this is okay. i've spent far too much time at this point editing & second-guessing everything, i finally just had to stop overthinking & post!

You’re lying on your bed, nearly dozing when the telephone on your nightstand starts ringing shrilly.

The shock of it startles you from your half-sleep, and you blearily push yourself upright from the prone position. One hand smashes into the pages of the magazine you’d been skimming through, which slips forward on the soft bed covers.

Too comfy to really want to move, you stretch over and clumsily pick up the phone, bringing it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Eddie,” says the voice on the other end. There’s a fuzziness around the edge of his words as they crackle through the speaker.

It’s not the first time he’s rang you at this hour, but a thrill still shoots through you at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”

Eddie has quickly become a fixture in your life over the past few weeks. Your friendship continued to blossom with each visit he paid you at the library, where he gave you live updates on his reading progress, not even bothering to wait until he was finished before sharing his opinions. He was nice, and funny, and you became increasingly fond of him.

Then one day, while he was chatting your ear off about something or other, it hit you: you think Eddie’s pretty. His face is sculpted but soft, everything just looks so soft. The rounded chin and cheeks, the bulbous tip of his nose that looks like the perfect place to plant a tiny kiss…

He had kept on talking, but you could hardly hear what he was saying. Suddenly all you could focus on was the prickly warmth creeping up the back of your neck and into your ears. It was reminiscent of a feeling you’d had once or twice before around him, but this time it came in swinging. And finally, you could see it for what it really was. Oh.

“Did I wake you up? Sorry, I know it’s kinda late.”

“No, I was still up.”

You sound a bit groggy, but if Eddie notices, he doesn’t mention it. “Okay, good. How are you?”

“I’m alright. How are you?”

“I’m alright,” he echoes back wryly. “How was your day? Did you have to work?”

“Yes, I did. It was good.” You reconsider, an uncomfortable moment spent with your boss flashing back to you, and grimace. “Mostly, anyway. How was your day?”

“Listen, don’t worry about me yet, I’m trying to ask about you. Tell me about your day, why was it only mostly good?”

Eddie seems to have a knack for that; saying things that make your heart flutter in a very nonchalant way, like it’s no big deal. You’re glad this conversation is over the phone, so he can’t see the dopey look on your face.

“Well…” You bite your lip. “It’s not a big deal, but do you know the librarian at all?”

“Marissa? Unfortunately. She’s kind of a bitch.”

“Yeah, she is. And today she overheard me telling another clerk what I have planned for Story Time this weekend, and she doesn’t like it. So she got kind of nasty with me.”

“Why? Are you reading something very inappropriate?”

“I want to read them this Dr. Seuss book, Bartholomew and the Oobleck, do you remember that one? And then for the craft period, we’ll make the oobleck. It’s really easy, just cornstarch and water. But she’s saying that I shouldn’t do it because it’s going to make too much of a mess.”

“Oobleck is supposed to be a really thick slime, right? The whole point is that it gets everywhere and they can’t get rid of it?”

“Well, yeah,” you admit. “So she might actually have a point.”

“Are you kidding?” he replies brightly. “They’ll love that shit. You should do it anyway, I think that’s a sick idea.”

“Thank you.” There’s a touch of pride in your voice. You really do try your best to come up with fun and interesting things for the kids. Encouraging them to read and sparking their creativity is all you ever hope for. “I also think it’s a great opportunity to teach them all about non-Newtonian fluids.”

Eddie barks out a laugh, and it digs sharply into your ear.

“You’re funny sometimes, you know that?”

You were being serious, but if it means you’re making Eddie laugh, then you suppose you’ll take it.

He continues without waiting for an answer. “If you need help cleaning up after, I can be around for that, since I don’t work until later.”

Immediately, your brain conjures up visions of green goo splattering everywhere, getting stuck to the low tables and entrenching itself into the carpet. You can’t bring yourself to inflict that upon him. “That’s awfully sweet of you, but you absolutely do not have to do that,” you reassure him.

“I’ll be there,” he says firmly.

“No!”

“I wanna play with the oobleck. I’ll be there.”

“Fine,” you concede with a laugh. “I won’t argue with that.” There’s a warm pause, mutual affection running through the miles of telephone wire connecting the two of you. You fiddle with a small pilled spot on the bedspread. “So how’s the latest book coming along?”

“Well,” he heaves out with a great sigh, “I finally finished Left Hand of Darkness, which was really good. I can’t say I liked it better than Earthsea, but I enjoyed it. I get why you like it so much.” 

“Comes down to personal preference. I’ve never met a bigger fantasy nerd than you, so Earthsea would be tough competition.”

“For my own sake, I’m choosing to take that as a compliment. Oh, and Genly and Estraven definitely had sex when they were alone on the ice together. I don’t care if they say otherwise.”

“Oh, they totally did!” you concur with a giggle.

“They were definitely kemmering, or whatever it is you’re supposed to call it. Anyway, I’m on to Geek Love now, and frankly, I’m shocked that you recommended this to me.”

“Why? You don’t like it?” It is a little grotesque, but you thought he’d be into that.

“No, I do. But I just can’t believe that a sweet thing like you would read a book like this.”

Your cheeks flood with heat as the word bounces around your head. Sweet, sweet, sweet — he thinks I’m sweet. “I like all kinds of books,” you mumble, and mentally kick yourself for not coming up with something more flirtatious to say back. The banter came a little more easily before you realized just how much you like him.

“So I’ve gathered.”

“Just you wait. I’ll have you reading the Brontës in no time.”

He huffs in disbelief. “Right. That’s likely.” He clears his throat. “Hey, um, can I ask you something?” There’s an edge to his voice you’re not used to hearing. 

“Shoot.”

“Do you wanna come and hang out at my place this weekend? We could get food and watch a movie, like Lord of the Rings or something, if you still wanted to see it. Or we can go to the video store and pick something out. You can choose.”

So far, Eddie’s only ever come to visit you at the library. The prospect of spending time with him alone — truly alone, without coworkers and patrons lurking just around the corner — makes your heart hammer dizzyingly against your ribs. You keep your answer simple. “Yes. I would like that.”

“Awesome.”

Wayne can hear one side of the discussion drifting through the trailer when he comes home, kicking his work boots off and leaving them by the door. Halfway across the living room he spies his nephew in the kitchen, and his eyebrows shoot up at the state of him.

Eddie’s leaning with his back against the wall, the phone held in place between his cheek and his shoulder. One ringed hand is twirling the phone cord around his finger as he speaks in a low voice, goofy grin plastered on his face.

They make eye contact across the trailer. Eddie immediately straightens up and tries to neutralize his expression.

Wayne snorts out a laugh.

“So, um, so anyway—“ Eddie fumbles with the phone “— does six o’clock work?” He turns to the side in a poor attempt to muffle the conversation. 

Wayne steps into the kitchen and tosses his jacket and lunchbox across the table. He makes a kissy-face at Eddie.

Eddie gives him the finger.

The day Eddie is meant to see you takes forever to arrive. However, as he stares at his reflection in his dresser mirror, he starts to feel like maybe it actually came way too quickly.

He’d spent the past half-hour wildly picking through his closet, combing his hair with his fingers, trying to figure out how he should present himself as more and more clothing gets flung around the room. Eventually he gave up on his hair, and came up with an ensemble he liked, but would you like it? Would you like him?

To the untrained eye, Eddie is wearing his standard Eddie-uniform: tight black pants and a band t-shirt. On the surface, it’s a regular outfit for him. But if one is a truly acute observer, they should clearly be able to see that there are subtle variations within this basic framework he’s donning that scream “Eddie Munson is Trying to Impress a Girl!”

His ripped jeans have tears that expose swaths of skin not just on his knees, but his thighs as well (scandalous!) and he’s wearing his coolest Slayer t-shirt, the one that he ripped the sleeves off of so that his tattooed arms are on full display. And it’s just loose enough so that when he leans forward, the fabric gives way so you can catch a glimpse of his chest, with its sparse hair and winking nipple ring.

It’s all very deliberate.

But as much as Eddie doesn’t want to admit it, he’s nervous. While he becomes increasingly enamored of you, unable to keep the sly compliments and saccharine terms of endearment from slipping out, you get more shy. He still hasn’t figured out if that’s a good or bad sign.

Both of you seem to be hovering in romantic limbo, tiptoeing along the fine line between friendship and flirtation. Playful and insecure. Tender and uncertain. Was your puckish rapport a new experience, or were you like that with every person you met? Did you like it when he phoned you late at night and called you honey and sweetheart, or were you just too polite to correct him? Did you hold his name and face in your soft heart when he wasn’t right there next to you, like he did yours?

He’d chickened out at the last minute, dancing around the word ‘date.’

Eddie could be smooth on occasion, sure. But it was different when you knew you didn’t actually have a shot in hell with the person you were talking to. He didn’t have to be afraid of rejection when he already knew it was coming.

Like, he could flirt and wink at Chrissy Cunningham all he wanted and invite her to the Hideout because he knew full-well that she was never really going to show up to watch his band play — let alone dump her boyfriend to go out with him. So he could ham it up, make a fool of himself, and then shrug it all off when nothing happened.

Only a few girls had ever taken him up on his offers. And they always ended up being private affairs; nobody wanted to risk being seen out at dinner with Eddie Munson. Instead there were quick and clumsy trysts in the back of his van or in the woods behind the school, and he was reduced to a novelty notch in the bedpost, a secret for them to whisper about at slumber parties, the eponymous who of a giggly “Guess who I hooked up with!” 

It took Eddie a minute to catch on. He remembers the first time, when he hooked up with a girl at a party he was dealing at during his junior year. The next school day, he tried approaching her in the hallway as she chatted with a fellow cheerleader, and she quite literally turned on her heel and ran — but not without shooting him a look of such intense disdain that it made Eddie physically flinch. Her friend snapped her locker shut, and snickered knowingly at Eddie before following suit.

He won’t lie, that one stung. He’d stood there in mild shock at being brushed off so harshly, while other students milled about, completely oblivious to his distress; someone deliberately knocked their shoulder into his as they passed by, causing the handle of his lunchbox to slip out from his sweaty fist. It fell to the floor with a loud clang that echoed about his ears.

Eddie had already had a pretty good idea of what other people thought of him, but boy, did it really sink in that day.

It set the framework for what his love life would look like for the rest of high school. Which maybe wouldn’t have been so horrible to deal with, if only he hadn’t been in high school for two years longer than he’d expected to be.

So he leaned into it. It was really the only thing he could do, and hey, at least it meant that he could get some every now and then. What did it matter if they refused to make eye contact with him the next day? He didn’t need all that relationship mess, anyway. He didn’t care.

He didn’t care, he didn’t care, he didn’t care — if he tried to tell himself that one more time he was going to explode.

In reality Eddie’s a pretty lonely guy. But since meeting you? He’s hopeful for the first time in a long time that maybe his life doesn’t have to be that way.

Eddie raps on your front door with his fist, biting the inside of his cheek. Pizza and movies. Easy breezy. There has never been a more relaxed person than you, ever, he thinks, buzzing with nervous energy.

After a moment the door swings open. “Hi,” you greet him, stepping out onto the welcome mat, tugging at the shoulder strap of your purse. 

“Hey,” he responds with an easy smile on his lips, one that doesn’t betray his anxiety. He gives you an approving once-over and lets out a low whistle. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

And you really are. He’s never seen you in anything but your work clothes, so he appreciates this chance to see you in an outfit that’s true to your style. 

You let out an embarrassed chuckle and wave a hand at him. “Oh, please.” 

“No, I’m serious! You look very nice.”

You can hardly meet his gaze, a flustered grin forming on your own face. “Thank you. So do you.”

He shrugs modestly, but his dimples show. He gestures to where his van sits parked by the curb. “Shall we?”

The interior of the van is plush and blue and smells of tobacco and something vaguely minty. Eddie insists on running around the vehicle so he can open the passenger-side door for you, and holds out his arm for you to grasp while you climb in; an unexpected act of chivalry.

“Wow, I’m getting the full VIP treatment here, aren’t I?” you ask him jokingly as you clamber onto the seat.

“Get used to it, sweetheart. I may not look it, but I’m a gentleman of the highest caliber.”

“I’m sure you are. I’ll bet Emily Post writes to you for etiquette tips.”

Eddie turns the engine on, and music starts blaring from the speakers. He quickly turns the volume down, shooting you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I, uh, I like it loud.” He gestures to a shoebox tucked away on the floor by your feet. “There’s a bunch of other tapes in there, you can pick a different one if you like.”

You’re delighted to realize that you have an opportunity to tease him. You tilt your head up, lips pouting as though you’re deep in thought. “Okay. Let's say I pull out a different tape.”

Eddie looks at you quizzically, but plays along. “Okay. Let’s say you do.” 

“Now, hypothetically, I would do this because I want to hear something different from what’s playing currently. Right?”

“Right…”

You reach into the box and pull out the first tape you make contact with, and end up with the latest W.A.S.P. album. You cock an eyebrow at him while you hold out the tape for him to see. “So riddle me this: what are the chances that this album — or any of these albums, for that matter — sound any different from what you’re playing right now?”

Eddie attempts to stifle a laugh and fails. “Hey now,” he says, trying to sound stern, “there is something incredibly special and nuanced about every single tape in that box. I would never deign to compare Ride the Lightning to The Headless Children. Completely different. Worlds apart, in fact.”

You shrug, pleased with yourself. “If you say so. You would know better than me.”

“I’m gonna teach you how to be metal,” he promises, peering over his shoulder as he backs out onto the street.

You continue rifling around in his box of tapes. “Do you really think I could be? My job is reading picture books to preschoolers.”

“Totally. There’s nothing more metal than the public library.”

The first stop you and Eddie make is at his favorite local pizza joint, where he insists on paying for dinner himself — he wouldn’t even let you throw a dollar in the tip jar. The shop is conveniently located in the same strip mall as the Family Video, so after putting your order in, the two of you cross the road to browse for a movie while you wait.

When you enter the store, you’re greeted by the little tinkling sound of bells and a bored ‘Welcome’ from the employee seated at the counter.

The cashier is cute — not as cute as Eddie, you think — and probably about the same age. When he finally looks up from the counter and sees the two of you together, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise before furrowing again as he makes eye contact with Eddie.

The two boys stare at each other in mutual distaste. He nods coolly at Eddie. “Munson.”

Eddie’s reply is flat. “Harrington.”

As you approach the counter, the employee’s name tag comes into view: Steve. 

Eddie strides past him and doesn’t stop, even when Steve calls out to his retreating back —

“You still haven’t brought back Spinal Tap!”

“I know,” Eddie replies, not bothering to turn around.

You follow Eddie across the store, skimming through the colorful titles. He stops abruptly in the middle of an aisle, and you bump softly into his back.

He gives you an amused smirk from over his shoulder. “Easy there.”

“Sorry,” you reply, giving him a little smile that’s all too apologetic for his liking. He can’t resist the urge to reach out and take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before letting go again.

You beam at him.

“So what are we feeling?” he asks, feeling needlessly scrambled at the brief but lingering affection. “Something scary? Funny?” He bats his eyelashes dramatically. “Romantic?” 

Your response is automatic. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

Eddie frowns at you. “I told you, it’s your choice. I already picked out a two-hour cartoon.”

He’s being very sweet. But you want to pick something that he’ll enjoy, too.

Acting on a little tip from your new friend Steve the Cashier, you ask Eddie —

“So you like Rob Reiner movies, huh?”

Eddie slaps The Princess Bride down on the counter in front of Steve. 

“Nice vest,” he comments.

Steve shoots him a dirty look. “Your late fees are gonna pile up.”

Eddie ignores this.

Steve sighs and begins the checkout process. Eddie can’t help noticing Steve casting you sidelong glances, his eyes flitting up and down your figure appreciatively. 

Eddie clears his throat pointedly.

“Here.” Steve pushes the film back over the counter.

Eddie grabs it and heads for the door without saying anything; you, confused and a little put off by the attitude, offer Steve your most polite “Thank you!” before scurrying out after him. 

Eddie holds the door for you when exiting, a pleasant expression on his face that’s a stark contrast from the one he wore when talking to Steve. When you’re both back outside, you can’t help but wonder what that cashier ever did to him.

“I take it you’re not a fan of Steve from Family Video?” you press.

Eddie looks sheepish. “You caught that, huh?”

“It was kind of hard to miss.”

He hesitates. “Well, we went to school together, and he wasn’t very nice. Let’s leave it at that.”

You simply nod, understanding his reluctance to say more. Reliving your high school trauma isn’t exactly something you’re interested in right now, either.

As you and Eddie head back across the street, your swinging arms cause your hands to brush against one another. After a moment’s hesitation, he clasps your hand in his, and your fingers intertwine, like two puzzle pieces clicking into place.

Eddie starts the drive home, and he feels a wave of apprehension.

He told you he lived in Forest Hills early on, and you didn’t bat an eyelash. But with you being so new in town, he wasn’t really sure that you even knew it was a trailer park.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed, exactly, or even that he thinks you’ll really mind — nothing you’ve said to him thus far indicated that his economic status would bother you — but being called trailer trash as many times as he has…well, it’s enough to make anyone defensive.

By the time he pulls up to the Munson trailer, he still hasn’t dared to look across the cab to see your reaction. “Well, here we are!” he exclaims in a hearty voice that doesn’t match what he’s feeling inside at all.

While you fumble between unbuckling your seatbelt and balancing the pizza box on your lap, Eddie darts out of the van so he can help you climb out again. When he opens the door he’s relieved to see that you don’t seem phased by your surroundings; you flash him the same happy smile you always do, and it gives him a boost of confidence.

Hopping up the porch steps, he unlocks the rickety front door and gestures for you to enter, bowing slightly. “After you, miss.”

You curtsey back. “Thank you, sir.”

Eddie pretends that that has less of an effect on him than it actually does.

Inside, he watches you peer around the trailer in interest. He’s glad that he did a deep-clean yesterday: there’s no clothes hanging over the furniture, any garbage he could find was bagged up and taken out, and he wiped down all the flat surfaces with the lemon-y spray cleaner that lives beneath the sink. He even dumped out all the ashtrays; when Wayne saw that, he commented that he must really like this girl.

“That’s a lot of mugs,” you comment, looking admiringly at the shelves that display years of Wayne’s little hobby. “I’m impressed.”

“They’re my uncle’s,” says Eddie as he kicks off his shoes. “I keep telling him he’s got a problem.”

“No, they’re great,” you insist. “Everybody collects something. Don’t you?”

Eddie pauses, hovering by the boxy television. “I guess so. Music. D and D shit.” He sets the pizza down on the coffee table. “Here, have a seat. I’ll get us some plates.” 

Eddie walks to the kitchen and starts rifling through the cabinets for some paper plates and napkins. You call out to him from your seat on the worn sofa. “Is your uncle working right now?”

“Yeah.” Eddie pads back into the living room. “He works a lot of night shifts.”

“Are all Munsons generally nocturnal?” you ask, referring to his bartending gig at The Hideout, a job that keeps him busy well into the night.

Eddie chuckles as crouches by the coffee table, pulling off two slices of greasy pizza and laying one on each plate. “I guess you could say that,” he says, handing you your share. Brown eyes find yours and he nudges your knee with his elbow playfully. “But it leaves me free to come and bother you at work during the day, doesn’t it?”

You dig the toe of your sock into the rug and look down at the food instead of him. “I wouldn’t call you a bother.”

His full lips turn up at the corners. “You wouldn’t?” He rests his hand on your leg, and his fingers swirl a gentle pattern over your skin.

You swallow. “No.” The word comes out subdued and breathy.

Eddie doesn’t move, but stays positioned by your knee, staring up at you. “Look at me again,” he says softly, leaning in a little closer.

You do as he asks and it’s almost too much. His eyes are huge and warm and they look like everything you’ve ever wanted.

A few seconds tick by, and then the phone rings and Eddie’s standing up again, whatever momentary spell the two of you were under, broken.

“Hang on,” he says, face tinged pink.

You settle back into the sofa and squirm, feeling feverish. 

Eddie wrenches the phone off the hook in annoyance. “Hello?” When the person on the other line answers, he huffs and rolls his eyes, turning away so his back is towards you. Still, you catch snippets of the exchange:

“Henderson, I said tomorrow, okay?” Eddie hisses in aggravation. “No, I don’t care if you don’t wanna do it in the morning, man. I’ve gotta work tomorrow night. You guys either come early or it’s not happening.”

You watch him curiously.

“Suck it up.” Eddie pauses to listen to the person speak again, and turns and glances at you across the trailer. Then his tone becomes noticeably gentler. “Thanks, man. I’ll let you know. See ya.”

He hangs up the phone with a sigh, and his face relaxes into a smile again.

He strolls back into the living room and claps his ringed hands together. “So! Are you ready to experience a cinematic masterpiece?”

Some three hours later, you and Eddie are slumped back against the worn cushions, now one and half movies deep. Over the course of the night you’ve slowly closed the distance between your bodies, so his leg is pressed against yours. Eddie has one arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers dancing just above the skin of your collarbone. Both of you are stuffed to the gills, and more than a little sleepy. Even Eddie, who kept up a stream of commentary during Lord of the Rings, eager to discuss his favorite bits of Middle Earth lore with you, is tuckered out.

Shenanigans play out on the television screen. You let out a huge yawn. 

Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulder, hand digging into the meat of your bicep, pulling you closer to him. “This okay?” he murmurs.

You nod clumsily and start fidgeting, your hands twisting in your lap. 

Eddie says your name softly. You hum in acknowledgement. 

“I really like you. And I think you like me.” He cocks his head to the side. “Is that right?”

Your heart throbs.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he whispers back. “Can I kiss you then, sweetheart?”

You nod; Eddie leans in slowly, then presses his lips to yours for a moment before pulling back again. It’s quick, chaste and sweet, and not nearly enough. Your hands find his face, palms landing on both his cheeks so you can bring his mouth back to yours.

He’s happy to oblige. 

Eddie sighs, tongue dipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss. One hand cups the back of your head, keeping you right where he wants you. The other snakes around your thigh, and he uses the leverage to abruptly pull you up and over his lap. A small “Oh!” of surprise escapes you at the jolt, but Eddie wastes no time in securing his mouth to yours again.

His kisses are wet, heady, and grow increasingly frantic as the two of you clutch at each other. Your hands weave into his hair — a longtime fantasy of yours come true at last — and he lets out a soft moan when your fingers tug gently at the tangled tresses. 

Your skin feels tingly, sensitive, alight at every little touch he gives you. Your head is full of nothing but Eddie, the way he looks and feels and smells, and the way he makes you feel, like a shaken-up pop bottle, full of pink fizz and ready to burst.

Eddie suddenly laughs against your lips, smiling into another kiss.

You pull back hastily, self-consciously. But he looks jubilant, cheeks dimpled in joy, chocolate eyes crinkled at the outer corners.

“Sorry,” he says breathlessly, “it’s just — I couldn’t tell — I wasn’t really sure where your head was at.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “You kept gettin’ quiet on me all of a sudden.”

You let your head fall forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder, and let out a tiny groan. “I know. I’m sorry, it wasn’t you.”

You lift your head back up and face him. “I’m not usually very good at this stuff,” you admit. “Connecting with people. It’s harder, when you’re introverted…and have different interests. But you were so easy to talk to when we met! And I was so excited to make a new friend, but I…,” you trail off.

“But you what?” he prompts.

“The more I looked at you the cuter I thought you were.” The words come out in a rush. “When I realized what was happening I got nervous.”

Eddie waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Oh, something’s happening?” 

You swat at him playfully.

“I’m kidding!” He rubs your shoulders soothingly. “But you don’t have to be nervous around me. I’m just some guy, y’know?”

“You, Eddie Munson, are certainly not just some guy.”

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me blush.”

The movie has long since ended, and a peaceful darkness settles over the trailer. The only sound is the chirp of the summer crickets outside and quiet breathing.

Eddie’s fully sprawled out over the couch with you nestled in his arms. It took some coaxing, but eventually he convinced you to lay on top of him, your warm weight better than any blanket, the sweet fragrance of your perfume soothing his senses. Your face is half-hidden in the crook of his neck, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I have a confession to make,” he says sleepily.

“Ooh. It better be something juicy.”

“It is. Excellent gossip. You can tell all your friends, I won’t even be mad.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I scoped you out at the library,” he admits. “I came in that day specifically to talk to you. Y’know, turn on that Munson charm, and sweep you off your feet, and all that.”

“Really?” You blink, trying to jog your memory. “I don’t remember ever seeing you before that.” You think of his tousled hair and clunky jewelry. “And you’re pretty memorable.”

“Well, there’s a slight chance that I, um, ducked, and hid behind a shelf when you got close. It was the Saturday right before we met, after you did your reading.”

That recalls something for you. “Wait, wait, maybe I do remember…” It’s hazy. Pale face, brown hair? You can’t quite place this person as Eddie, but it must have been him. “I think I did see you creeping around.”

“What can I say? Your story telling enthralled me.” 

It’s the truth. He’d been browsing for a Clive Barker book when he caught sight of you in the children’s area. You read We’re Going on a Bear Hunt with an enthusiasm usually reserved for trained Shakespearean actors, and it left him undeniably impressed. 

You cuddle closer to him, burying your face in his chest. “I’m glad you decided to nut up and talked to me.”

He smiles against your hair. “Me too.”

Early the next morning, in the hazy gray-blue dawn, the front door opens quietly — cautiously even. Wayne’s not sure what he’ll be walking into. All he knows is that his nephew really likes this girl, and that for Eddie’s sake he hopes that his date went well. He’s not sure how much more disappointment the boy can take. He wants to see him happy.

So he’s pleasantly surprised to see you and Eddie piled up on the couch like two puppies, fast asleep and — thank Christ — fully-clothed. Eddie’s arm is slung over you protectively, his soft snores just barely audible. 

Good for him.

And if they wanna sleep in the living room, that’s fine. 

Wayne’s gonna take the bed.

thank you for reading!! <3 Read Ch. 4 -> Here! taglist: @eddiesgirlforever, @eds6ngel, @sheisahauntedhouse, @lokis-tardis-companion19, @teary-eyed-egg, @whenshelanded, @nanaminswhore, @witchwolflea

[epochofbelief]

Strictly Confidential: Chapter Six

A Modern Feysand AU

She’s a law student turned confidential informant. He’s a federal prosecutor with one goal: bringing down her boyfriend for his white collar crimes. What could go wrong?

A/N: I would like to thank "girl i've always been" by Olivia Rodrigo for helping me produce this one. Thanks for your patience and your love on the last chapter. Enjoy, and let me know if you would like to be tagged.

Also, I make no promises on the accuracy of international travel, time changes, and FBI investigations from this point forward. Welcome to the world of fanfiction, everyone--everything is subject to the machinations of my own mind. 😈

Sorry if the editing is crap. Needs must, and all that.

TW: drinking/alcohol

Strictly Confidential Masterlist

My other, completed, Feysand AU: What to Expect When You're (Not) Expecting

Chapter Six

It took Rhysand two days—two days—to get in touch with Feyre after Azriel’s attack.

“I’m going to kill you,” Feyre hissed through her teeth as she stepped onto the Illyria Station platform, the final station on the Prythian City Metro Line. Rhys’s eyebrow rose at the venom in Feyre’s voice, one large hand resting on the small of her back as he guided her away from the train and through the station, up the stairs, and into an awaiting black car.

“You realize you just threatened to murder a federal prosecutor,” Rhys noted as he tapped on the window separating them from the front seats. The driver pulled away from the curb.

“What of it?” Feyre asked. “Bare threats won't get you anywhere in court.”

“Maybe so, but if you do kill me, there are plenty of witnesses on the platform who could testify to your intent.”

“Good luck tracking them down when you’re dead,” Feyre said, holding Rhys’s gaze, his eyes twinkling in the dimness of the car.

Feyre almost smiled back at him, at the way words tripped so easily off her tongue whenever Rhys was around. But she swallowed the urge, instead rolling her eyes and slumping down in the leather seat, Rhys’s eyes tracking her every move. “Are you going to tell me if Agent Lapis is alright or not, or are you just going to press me for more information on—?”

Rhys lunged forward, his large hands covering her mouth. “No names until we get to the safe house.”

He waited for her to nod, his very large body taking up so much space as he hovered over her, the scent of salt and citrus enveloping her at his closeness.

Feyre struggled to suck down a breath, and it wasn't because Rhys was covering her mouth.

“Don’t you trust your driver?” Feyre asked when Rhys removed his hands, her body suddenly cold as he slid across the leather seat, back toward his side of the car.

“Of course I do,” Rhys said. “But we can’t be too careful. After Azriel’s attack, it’s best we take a little more care with our conversations, where we are, who sees us together.”

Feyre didn’t say anything, folding her arms over her chest.

Rhys blew out a breath. “Azriel is fine. He took a bad beating, but he’s had worse. He’ll be on his feet in another day or two, albeit with a few extra bruises.”

“And do you think it was—was—” Feyre pressed her lips together, unsure if she refrained from saying Tamlin’s name because of Rhys’s caution or because she still could barely fathom that someone she had thought she knew might sanction such violent behavior.

Rhys nodded curtly. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. We can talk then.”

The ten minutes passed quickly, Feyre mentally reviewing the information she had gathered in the past few days. She had managed to glean the location of Tamlin’s next business venture by going through his phone well past midnight the night before, slipping his phone from his nightstand and hiding away in the closet until she had found something, anything that might put a stop to everything Spring Solutions was doing.

Illyria was a pleasant enough town, if a little run down. The small main street the town car carried Feyre and Rhys down boasted a few cafes, a restaurant or two, and even a bar. Feyre caught sight of a bookstore, already closed for the evening, at the very end of the street, and something else that might have been an arts and crafts shop. She continued to observe as they left the main street and entered a series of residential neighborhoods, partly because she had never visited Illyria before, and partly because it gave her something to do in such a small space with Rhys mere inches away.

At last, the driver turned into a gated neighborhood full of quaint historical homes. The car pulled into the driveway of a red-brick home, two stories tall, with black shutters and white columns. Feyre unbuckled her seat belt as the car pulled around the back of the house, entirely out of sight of the street.

“Home sweet home,” Rhys said as Feyre rounded the car to stand next to him.

“Home?” she stammered, turning to stare up at him.

“One of them,” he said. “Once upon a time.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes as he strode up the back steps, producing a small key and unlocking the back door. He stepped back to let her enter first, and Feyre slid past him, her elbow brushing his stomach as she set foot on the dark wood floors.

Rhys followed her, flicking on a light switch, a warm glow flooding the hallway as Feyre delved further into the house.

Warm dark floors stretched down the long hallway that spanned from the back door directly to the front, the rooms of the first floor on either side of the hall. To her left was a small kitchen, with white appliances, light wood cabinets, and forest green tile backsplash. To her right was a closed door that she guessed led to a bedroom or office. Rhys ushered her toward the front of the house, gesturing to a small sitting room to their right. Across the hall from the sitting room was a small dining room. Both rooms boasted floor to ceiling, built-in shelves bursting with books and trinkets of all shapes and sizes.

Feyre settled herself onto a grey couch in the sitting room, gazing around the small space as Rhys ensured the curtains facing the street were drawn shut.

“This is your house?” Feyre asked as Rhys, satisfied with the curtains, crossed the plush red rug to the fireplace on the far wall, leaning down to start it with the push of a button. Flames danced to life in the hearth, Feyre’s brows raising at the sight. The house itself felt old, quaint. But the fixtures—the fireplace, the chandelier above them, even the appliances in the kitchen, were all quite modern.

“I grew up here,” Rhys said. “It was my mother’s house. My father didn’t want it—hasn’t been here in years—after she died. He gave it to me, told me to sell it if I wished. I thought about it for a while. It’s too far from the city for me to live in full-time. But I couldn’t stomach the thought of someone else living here. So I decided to keep it, update some of the appliances, the heating system, all that, thinking one day I would sell it for a higher price after all the improvements. But I… haven’t.”

“It’s lovely,” Feyre said.

Rhys gave a brisk grin, sitting down on the couch across from Feyre and clasping his hands between his knees. “Azriel and Mor should be down any minute.”

Feyre's brows creased, but Rhys shook his head. “Azriel’s staying here while he recuperates, and Mor arrived about an hour before us to check on him and make sure things were in order for this meeting. It's nothing... like that."

Feyre nodded, filing away the information for later.

They sat in comfortable silence while they awaited, and the creaking ceiling above Feyre told her Mor and Azriel were aware of the scheduled meeting and coming to meet them any second. Indeed, they emerged from the narrow staircase that occupied part of the central hallway, Azriel’s face several shades of black, blue, and yellow bruises.

“Gods above,” Feyre breathed, leaping to her feet and meeting Azriel halfway across the room. “Are you alright?” She asked, arms reaching toward him before she realized she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

But Azriel softly gripped her upper arms, his swollen lip breaking into a small smile. “I’m fine, Feyre. Occupational hazard.”

Feyre let Azriel lead her over to the couch after she greeted Mor, who had frozen in the hallway, gazing wide-eyed at Feyre and Azriel. At Feyre's "Hello," Mor swallowed, stepping into the living room at last.

“You were truly concerned for him,” Mor noted, taking a seat next to Rhys as Feyre forced Azriel to sit down first before she settled herself next to him.

Feyre folded her arms, glaring at Rhys. “Ask his Royal Highness the United States Attorney.”

“She threatened to kill me for making her wait this long,” Rhys admitted, eyes never leaving Feyre’s.

“Well, you’ve seen me. I’m fine,” Azriel said in that soft, but cutting, voice of his. “And I appreciate it, Feyre. I really do.”

Feyre tore her gaze from Rhys’s violet eyes and met Azriel’s hazel ones, nodding once before she strengthened her resolve.

“I know where Tamlin’s going next,” she announced.

----------------

One week later, the plans were arranged.

Cassian and Mor would board a plane for northern Washington State, hours after the private plane Lucien and Tamlin had chartered that would take them to the same place. The agents had arranged to rent a car to follow the two Spring Solutions higher-ups to the manufacturing plant that Tamlin had arranged a relationship with. Thanks to the vague map Feyre had found that first night of her sleuthing, the group had determined the estimated location of the exchange—the place Tamlin would accept responsibility for the non-compliant environmental materials. Then, the FBI Agents would trail whatever transport Tamlin had arranged until he either stored it or disposed of it. At that point, they hoped to have witnessed enough illegal activity that there would be plenty of cause to make an arrest—or at the very least to bring charges against Tamlin and Spring Solutions and end the illegal operation once and for all.

The plan made sense, despite the limited information it was based upon. The agents had planned everything to perfection. The intel Feyre had provided had allowed them to skirt the problem they had run into time and time again—because Tamlin and Lucien flew privately, under an ever-changing roster of company names other than Spring Solutions, and were careful to take nondescript vehicles to the private airport, it was difficult for the FBI to follow the duo when they jetted off to consult with their next client. But Feyre’s provision of the location had changed everything. The entire case might be resolved in less than a day.

Feyre, however, was pissed.

She had provided the information. She was the one who continued to stay with Tamlin, who still slept in his bed, in order to get this information for the FBI. And yet she hadn’t been invited to come along for the bust.

It was infuriating, and the worst kind of insult. She had spent the better part of an hour arguing with Rhys, Mor, and Azriel about it as they had discussed the information in Rhysand’s mother’s home that night a week ago.

It all came down to protocol, however, and civilians weren’t to be pulled into such dangerous surveillance activities if it was avoidable. And unfortunately, Feyre was a mole and nothing more. Cassian and Mor were the FBI agents, and they would be taking the lead in the investigation. Not even Rhysand was going.

Feyre lay on her couch, her casebooks unopened on the coffee table next to her as she stared at the clock on her phone. She was at least trusted enough to be told what time Cassian and Mor’s plane would be taking off—2:27 p.m.

Feyre rolled her eyes. What an honor.

The clock turned to 2:28, and she knew they were gone.

Feyre sighed, rolling off the couch and laying on the floor for a minute. Then two. Then three.

If they didn’t catch Tamlin—what then? How much longer would she need to stay here?

Feyre knew she could change her mind at any point. The FBI, and Rhysand, wouldn’t blame her. But what then? How could she live with herself knowing she had taken away the FBI’s only viable opportunity to bring down Spring Solutions?

No, Feyre didn’t have a choice. She was in this until Tamlin discovered her treachery or he was behind bars.

Eventually, Feyre peeled herself off the floor and padded through the empty apartment toward her closet.

Sure, it was 2:28 pm on a Friday, but Feyre didn’t have plans for the rest of the day.

Or the rest of the weekend.

So why not jump into her pajamas and read for her Corporations Law class until her eyes ceased focusing properly?

Feyre snorted at herself as she flicked on the light in the closet. Here she was, an informant for the FBI, a job that sounded so glamorous, so important, so mysterious.

And yet it was mid-afternoon on a Friday and Feyre was already shedding her bra for the day.

What was her life?

She sighed as she crossed to the enormous dresser against one of the walls of the closet. She shoved aside the suit jacket Tamlin had worn that morning, hastily discarded over the top of the dresser, the fabric emitting a faint crinkling sound as it hit the floor.

She had just reached into the drawer to retrieve the tattered old t-shirt and sweatpants that she slept in when she froze, slowly turning to gaze at the navy blazer, crumpled on the floor at her feet.

Because that crinkling sound. . . That wasn't just fabric.

Feyre knelt, sweatpants forgotten as she fished through the pockets of Tamlin’s jacket. A month ago, she wouldn’t have even considered doing this. Wouldn’t have been so hyperaware of everything having to do with her boyfriend, so anxious that the sound of what was probably a gum wrapper wouldn't have raised her hackles.

But a month ago, she hadn't known her boyfriend was a criminal mastermind.

Feyre drew out a small slip of paper from the inside breast pocket of the jacket.

It was a receipt.

A receipt for a set of plane tickets.

And in tiny black script across the top was the destination of those tickets, scheduled for that day, October 7th, at 10:53 a.m:

Dublin, Ireland.

Fuck.

---------

“Where the hell are you, Feyre?”

Rhysand’s voice was so loud in her phone speaker that Feyre actually held it several inches away from her ear as she responded.

“The airport…”

“You’re kidding. " Feyre heard what sounded like a door slamming in the background of the call. "You are actually calling me because you thought it would be fun to give me a heart attack as a prank, and you’re actually home right now, on your couch, watching The Nanny or whatever ridiculous show you and Mor were discussing the other night in Illyria. You’re not at the airport about to board a flight to Dublin because your boyfriend purposefully set a red herring in case anyone was on his tail.”

Feyre didn’t respond, just smiled at the woman manning the security line Feyre currently stood in, shedding her shoes with her one available hand, the other holding her phone to her ear.

“Feyre. Tell me I’m right. Tell me you’re not at the airport.”

“Can’t, sorry. Oh, hold on, gotta send my phone through the x-ray machine thing.”

Feyre ignored Rhys’s protests, placing her phone on the x-ray belt, call with Rhys still active, before she stepped into the line to go through the human scanning machine.

It was at least five minutes before she made it through the line and retrieved her stuff from the security belt. To her surprise, Rhys was still on the line when she retrieved her phone.

“Turn around right now. What are you planning to do when you get to Ireland? Find Tamlin and confront him yourself?”

“Of course not!” Feyre exclaimed, checking the departures board and smiling as she saw that her flight was right on time, although in her eagerness to get to the airport, she had arrived much too early. She had at least an hour before boarding the flight that would take her from Prythian to New York, where she would transfer to a flight to Ireland. “I just want to follow him and record everything he does.”

Except for vague background noise, and something that sounded like the rumble of traffic, the line remained quiet for several long moments.

“I swear, Feyre Archeron, if I die before I turn thirty, it’ll be because of you and this gods-damned case.”

“You’ll thank me later!” Feyre said brightly, and hung up the phone.

An hour later, Feyre had shuffled toward her gate with the rest of those boarding her flight to New York. She had spent the last hour consuming two glasses of wine at the airport bar, her productivity while reading for her Environmental Law class sharply declining as her glass emptied. Her original intention had been to stick with one small glass of wine so that she might fall asleep more easily on her flight.

But after half an hour of staring at her textbook, a sizable pit had formed deep in her stomach. Was she truly flying to Ireland for the weekend? Chasing Tamlin halfway across the world to—to what? To make up for the fact that she had fallen for the red herring Tamlin had left in his emails, had given the FBI wrong information, and sent them in the complete opposite direction of Tamlin’s true destination? She had nowhere to stay when she got to Ireland, no idea where to start on finding transport to whatever location Tamlin had arranged his rendezvous.

So Feyre had ordered another glass of wine, and downed most of it in the last ten minutes before her flight started boarding.

Thus the world had taken on a softer light, a slower quality that had loosened Feyre’s shoulders so much that she didn’t even care about the nearby toddler who had been crying for the last half hour, or the strong smell of weed emitting from the woman in front of her, or the enormous man who was standing a little too close to her, smelling of citrus and the sea and—

Feyre whirled around.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded when her eyes met violet ones, the intensity of Rhys’s gaze reminding her of her tipsiness.

“You thought I was going to let you run off to Ireland by yourself?”

Feyre bit her lip, suddenly wishing she hadn’t had that second glass of wine. Rhys was so poised, dressed in his signature black suit, pressed to perfection even after what must have been a long day at work. The shadow of a beard graced the lower half of his face, and his sea salt scent caressed her, pulling her closer. . .

Feyre blinked once. Then twice, reaching an arm out to steady herself against one of the barriers used to corral the boarding line.

Rhys's eyes narrowed. “Are you—drunk?” He asked, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.

Feyre folded her arms. “I’m not drunk,” she insisted. “I had a two glasses of wine.”

“You can barely stand up straight,” Rhys noted, pocking her shoulder with a finger.

Feyre flashed her palms up at the prosecutor. “I’m fine, see? I was having a perfectly wonderful time until you decided to show up and crash my spontaneous trip to a foreign country.” She didn't mention the wave of relief that was sweeping through her even now, as she realized she wouldn't be leaving the country for the first time all by herself.

“Did you tell Mor and Cassian?” She asked, changing the subject, although the creeping grin on Rhys’s face told her he wouldn't let this go anytime soon.

And for some reason, Feyre didn’t mind that he found her amusing.

Tamlin would have told her she was being unprofessional, would have chastised her for doing something as unsafe as getting a little tipsy in the safety of an airport. Even though he and Lucien drank during their own travels, Tamlin would see Feyre’s unsteadiness as a weakness, something she should only do with him around.

And while Rhys was laughing at her, she didn’t feel . . . judged. Teased, yes, and perhaps a little embarrassed. But not ashamed.

Rhys gave a curt nod. “They’re staying the night in Washington and flying back tomorrow. Weather conditions are awful up there, so no planes, even private ones, are going up until the morning.”

“Will they fly over to meet us?” Feyre asked, falling into step beside Rhys as the line started moving, bringing them closer and closer to the gate.

Rhys shook his head. “If this trip is as short as Tamlin told you it would be, by the time they got to Ireland, they would have to board the plane to come back again.”

“So we’re on our own,” Feyre muttered, allowing the flight attendant to scan her boarding pass.

“We’re on our own,” Rhys echoed as they stepped onto the jetway.

------

It was a very long night. Feyre slept for most of both of their flights, occasionally waking up to turbulence or to use the restroom or eat the snacks the flight attendants provided. Every time she did, Rhys was a solid presence next to her, wide awake and reading through various legal documents on his laptop, his privacy screen preventing her from glimpsing much. If he slept at all, Feyre never saw it.

When they touched down in Dublin, Feyre jolted awake, something soft against her temple. She looked up, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she met Rhys’s stare.

“Sleep well?” Rhys asked, shifting in his seat, the movement jostling her.

She reared back, tearing her forehead from where it had been resting on Rhys’s shoulder. “Yes, I—I did,” she said, sure her cheeks were burning bright red. She had slept on his shoulder. Had probably drooled all over him while he read his professional legal documents and thought of her as a very silly, very impulsive young law student. “Sorry,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

But Rhys only shrugged, folding up his laptop and sliding it into the backpack beneath the seat in front of him. “No need to apologize. I’m positive my shoulder is much more comfortable than the window.”

Feyre huffed out a breath, a grin tugging at her cheek as she thought about just how muscular Rhys's shoulder was—if it was more comfortable than the window, it was only by a margin.

“What time is it?” She asked.

“Dublin time?” Rhys looked at his watch, Feyre’s eyes tracking the flick of his wrist. “About seven am. . . Prythian time? Two am. What time did you say Tamlin’s meeting was?”

“Not until this afternoon—two or three.”

“Plenty of time to find a hotel, then, because someone decided to come all the way over here without a plan,” Rhys said, his fingers gripping her chin lightly for a fleeting moment, his lips pursing as he gazed down at her.

“Come on, Night,” Feyre said, following him from their seats and out into the aisle. “Live a little.”

Feyre regretted those words two hours later, after the only hotel with a vacancy they could find had one room available--with only one bed.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything else? We’ll even take a bed and a pull-out couch,” Feyre pleaded with the receptionist, who was so busy staring as Rhysand that Feyre doubted the woman even heard her question.

“What was it you said to me on the plane, Feyre darling?” Rhys asked, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye, his fingers tapping on the front desk. “Live a little?”

Feyre groaned, exhaustion tugging at her limbs, at her very soul, despite the sleep she had managed to find on the plane. “Fine.” She snatched the keys out of Rhys’s hand and stomped over to the elevator, arms crossed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Rhys offered as Feyre led the way down the hall, her suitcase rattling behind her.

“That’s ridiculous,” Feyre said. “It’s a king bed. Plenty of space.”

What was she saying? No amount of bed space would be enough if she was sharing it with Rhys. He was so . . . all-consuming. Feyre could feel him behind her even now, though she knew he was several feet away.

She unlocked their room, Rhys’s arm sliding above her head to hold the door so she could drag her suitcase inside.

"Thank you," she said quietly, swallowing at the gesture.

Neither of them spoke as they took turns in the bathroom, each taking a quick shower to rinse off the travel. Feyre let Rhys go first, insisting that she had to call her father anyway. But instead of calling, she sat on her side of the bed and thought about what Tamlin would say if he knew she was sharing a hotel room with another man.

Even if her relationship with Tamlin had an expiration date, even if it was over in Feyre’s mind . . . It wasn’t over in Tamlin’s.

Sharing a bed with Rhys, sleeping on his shoulder, flirting with him . . . It was one of the worst betrayals, no matter what Tamlin had or had not done. She knew her boyfriend would be livid if he knew about what she was doing with Rhys. Even if nothing had happened between them, even if Feyre wasn’t sure she felt anything more than sexual attraction for the federal prosecutor who had suddenly turned her entire life upside down... It was wrong.

Even if being with Rhys brought out a side to her that had long been dormant. She spent all of her time with Tamlin and Lucien these days.

How long had it been since she had joked with a new friend? Spent time with someone who shared her interests, her career path? Done something just because she wanted to?

She had booked an international flight without a second thought, for crying out loud.

She had never done something like that before.

And Rhys had followed. With some grumbling, yes, but he hadn’t tried to drag her out of the airport or convince her to change her mind.

And perhaps he cared more about indicting Tamlin than he did about Feyre’s safety, but . . . Feyre couldn’t shake the feeling that Rhys understood just how badly she wanted to see Tamlin pay for his actions. That he understood the guilt that clawed at her in the middle of the night, the guilt that told her she should have seen it, should have recognized that there was something fishy about Tamlin’s business, should have done something long ago to stop it, something that might have prevented what Rhys’s sister had endured…

Feyre was startled out of her spiraling thoughts by the sound of the bathroom door swinging open, Rhysand emerging in nothing but black sweats, his hair still damp from the shower.

Feyre’s mouth went dry.

“I, ah, left my shirt out here,” Rhys offered, crossing the room to his suitcase, every muscle on display.

Feyre bit her lip at the sight of his cheeks, which had turned every-so-slightly pink, before she averted her gaze.

She didn’t say anything, simply grabbing her stuff and shutting the bathroom door behind her.

Tamlin would certainly object to the sight of a shirtless Rhysand.

Feyre took a very, very cold shower.

---

Taglist:

@rhysiedarling @shedoessoshedoes @popjunkie42 @adreamof-spring @that-little-red-head @witch-and-her-witcher @cinnamonmelody @azrielover @1islessthan3books @jenahid @toporecall @martzja @marinated-fish @riribbonss @tunaababee @acourtofbatboydreams @clockworkgraystairs @muaddib-iswriting @queenofdivas

[personasintro]

FAQ

Since I’ve been getting same questions all the time, it’s probably for the best I finally made this post!

When do you update?

As it’s stated in my pinned post, I don’t have any schedule — therefore I update whenever I finish the whole process of writing (drafting, writing, editing).

I can’t see your pinned post. Why?

It’s most likely that you have to change your settings first to see mature content. I heard you can do that through browser since app doesn’t have that option yet. This link might be helpful, check it out!

What inspired you to write?

I’ve always had a close relationship with writing but it’s never been that serious. My proper first memory of writing something was when me and my friend wrote stories for each other haha. I decided to write and post my first fanfiction after I read a few of them. It inspired me to try it on my own and here I am. (A very short version hehe)

What’s your favorite story of yours?

It depends on the day, it changes almost every day haha so I guess we’ll never get a proper answer!

What inspired you to write Mutual Help?

I just wanted to write a fake dating au + Jungkook series. It somehow just came together! Nicely I hope hehe!

How many chapter is MH gonna have?

I don’t know unless it’s stated otherwise. It’s hard to give you an approximate amount of chapters. But I’ll inform you either in my author’s note or here under the tag ask: mutual help.

What ending it’s gonna have?

That’s something I don’t want to answer and reveal. I wish to reveal it in the story!

My asks weren’t answered. Why?

It might be the case of multiple reasons.

Tumblr might’ve ate your ask. It’s no secret that sometimes happens (unfortunately).

I don’t feel comfortable answering that particular message/question.

Your question has been just answered recently. I recommend checking tags for each story (ex. ask: mutual help, ask: monachopsis etc…). I understand not everyone wants to catch up with my asks, but please understand I can’t answer the same respective questions over and over again 🥺 I would do nothing else than just answering the same questions every day.

One of the reasons might be because I’m getting many asks daily & it’s impossible for me to answer them all. I really wish I could but unfortunately, that’s not possible 🥺 and for that I apologize! It came to that point where I have to be picky and choose what to answer and what not.

Have you ever wanted to be a professional writer? Is that your goal?

No! This is just a hobby for me 😊

Do you have any fics recommendations?

All my fics recs can be found under the tag “fic rec” 😇

[yaasirambles]

HeartRacer- Lee Jeno NCT

I wrote this a while ago for @jammingjaem and I decided to edit it and post it as a y/n piece!

Word Count: 2,687

Warnings: Mentions of illegal activities (street racing) and mentions of Consumption of Alcohol

Plot: In which you're Jeno's friend and he races with his motorcycle. He invites you out one night to come watch his race.

Racer!AU, SFW :) Cute lil thing

“Annndd done! Thank God. This essay was gonna be the death of me,” You say to yourself. You clicked the SUBMIT button and closed your laptop. You throw your head back on the chair. Closing your eyes and spinning slowly. 

*clink* 

You open one eye. Nothing around. You shrug your shoulders and close your eyes. Letting out a deep breath. 

*clink*---*clink*--- *clink**clink**clink*

You jump out of the chair and pull up your window, leaning out and looking down, scanning around the dark yard. Then, you see the cause of your disturbance. 

“UGH, YOU!” You shout in frustration

“Gee, nice to see you too.” Jeno rolls his eyes

“What do you want, Jeno?” 

“I’m coming up. Move back” 

“What? No, don’t you dare-” You back up. You hear him run, and his feet land on the wall as he climbs up the wall, the lattice screen on it helping him get a grip as he climbs, probably ruining the flowery vines on the way up. You saw his fingers at the edge of the window sill. He pulls himself up and jumps into your room, standing right in front of you. Barely an inch between you two. His face looked down on you. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart flutters a bit. You back up and clear your throat. 

“I wanted to see if you’ll come to my race tonight. Please, please, please.”

“No, Jeno. I already told you. I just spent 4 hours on this essay, and my brain is burnt out.”

“Aha, see, I knew that might be the case. So I got you iced coffee, and it’s waiting for you. Chenle has it downstairs.” He looks at you with those stupid puppy eyes. 

“Uggghhh. Fine. But I’m going in the car. Not on that death trap you call a motorcycle.”

“Fine, fine. As long as you’re coming. Oh, there’s also gonna be a kickback/party type thing after, and we’re going to that too. It’s Friday, so I know you can’t use school as an excuse not to go.”

“Ok, whatever. Well, I need to change then in that case.” you sigh, walking to your closet. You didn’t hear anything, so you turned around. Jeno is staring at you, leaning against your desk. Arms crossed. “Ummm”

“What?” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“LEAVE. I’m not gonna change in front of you.” 

“Why? Scared we’ll end up kissing or something.” He smirks

“AGGHH, LEE JENO!” You throw a shirt at him. 

He throws his hands up in the air defensively. “I’m kiddiiing. I’ll be at the meet. Renjun and the other dreamies are waiting in the car downstairs. See ya there, my lucky girl.” He hops out of the window. 

You roll your eyes and rummage through your closet. You were slightly panicking because you wanted to look good. Not for him. Pfft nevvveerrrr. Okay, maybe just a little….whatever. You decide on a pair of ripped black jeans, gray vans, a red crop top that says “CHERRY BOMB.” and a light wash jean jacket. You rush down the stairs and hop in the back seat of Renjun's car.

“Where’s my coffee?” you demand, holding your hand out.

“Right here, Ma’am.” Chenle hands you the cup, and you take a long drink from the straw. 

“Ok, let’s go, kids,” you say. Renjun nods.

You end up on some long, empty streets. A crowd bustling in the middle. You thought it’d be smaller. It was a street race, after all. Kinda illegal… Not at all, somewhere you would be regularly. You walk with the dreamies, following them, trying to find your group. You’re a huge group, yet you always manage to lose each other. You spot your best friend and her Boyfriend, Jaehyun. They’re the couple of the group, and they've been together for two years. She’s in black jean shorts, fishnets, A black bralette, and boots. Jaehyun in black jeans, vans, a white t-shirt with rolled-up sleeves, one arm around her, the other hanging onto his Jean jacket slung over his shoulder. They are a power couple. You think to yourself, I wonder if Jeno and I could be like that...nope, no, ma’am. No interest in that hooligan. Cute, stupid, reckless-

“Y/N. YOU’RE HERE, YESSS!” someone shouts, snapping you out of your head. Your best friend was running to you. “I’m so glad you came! How’d he convince you?” she pulled you in for a hug.

“Bribery of the highest degree,” you say and point to the iced coffee. “I can’t resist free coffee.”

“Of course,” she laughs. “Well, c’mon. Everyone is further down. We’re all at the start line, so we can see Jeno come in first.” she grabs your hand and leads you to the rest of your group. Everyone comes walking towards you to say Hi. Johnny picked you up and squeezed you. You go through the round of hugs and cheek kisses as greetings.

You look around the area. Motorcycles are placed in the middle of the street, behind the start/finish line. Their riders hanging around, talking to people. You spot Jeno talking to some girl. A really pretty girl… Your heart drops a little as you see him smile at her. It's probably his secret girlfriend or something. He catches you, and his eyes light up. He jogs towards you, and the girl follows. He looks so good in that stupid race jacket. 

“Hey! Wow, you look… great,” he breathes out, staring you up and down. “Oh, um, this is my friend. She and Her girlfriend are race girls. You know, the one who waves the flags for us to go.”

“Ohh! That’s cool!  It’s nice to meet you! I’m Y/N,” You say

“I’m Min! So nice to meet you.” She pulls you in for a hug. “It’s almost time to start! I’ll see you at the party?” 

You nod, and she smiles and runs off to gather the riders at the start line. 

“You’re gonna be in the front, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, of course. It’s where the rest are. so you know..” You respond, playing with the hem of your shirt awkwardly 

“Awesome, cool, cool, cool. Um, well, I better get in position. Kiss my key?”

“Your key??” You raise an eyebrow at him 

“Yea. You know, for good luck. Please?” he holds it out. 

You roll your eyes and kiss the blade of the key. He smiles widely and runs off to his Motorcycle. Your heart flutters again…

You walk over to the front of the sidelines where your friends are. Jeno and another rider are the first, with four others behind them. Engines were revving up, and people were cheering for their chosen rider. You wave to him, and he waves back with a gloved hand. How the hell does he look so handsome with a helmet on?? You can’t even see his face, but you know he looks good. Ugh. 

“Are we ready racers?” Min shouts

“On our count!” her girlfriend shouts. 

“One!” Min raises her flags.

“Two.” Her girlfriend's flags go up as well.

“Three!!” the engines revving loudly. 

“GO!” they both scream, waving the flags down and kneeling as the bikes fly past them. You run into the street along with many others to see the bikes take off. Some people chase after them. The crowd moves back to the sides as the racers come back to finish the first lap—two more to go. Jeno is the 3rd to come in this lap. You bite your lip, praying he wins. The last lap comes around, and you peer out, waiting impatiently. You see his bike leading, and he burns through the finish line. Your group screams in victory, and he starts doing donuts in the street as the other racers trail behind. You run to his bike, and he hops off, pulling off his helmet, hugging you, picking you up, and spinning you. 

“See! I told you, my lucky charm.” He grins ear to ear. His eyes sparkled, and his chest rose and fell heavily. 

“I would have been so mad if I came and missed out on sleep just to see you lose” You rolled your eyes. Your heart flutters secretly. 

“Hey, you guys ready to head to the party?” YangYang says, walking up to you. 

“Yea. We’ll see you there.” Jeno said, taking your hand. “C’mon.”

“Uhhhh. I’m going with Dreamies,” You said, raising an eyebrow.

“Uhhhh no, you’re not. Ride with me. Please? I just won the race, and you saw I’m a safe driver, pleeeasssseee” He begged, again with stupid puppy eyes. 

“Fine. If I die, I’m killing you.” You huff and let him lead you to his motorcycle. 

He takes an extra helmet out and places it on your head. Smiling at you. He climbs on, and you get behind him. Your hands grip his shirt tightly. Too scared to wrap your arms around his waist. He revs the engine loudly, and you roll your eyes. What a show-off. Suddenly, the bike jerks forward, and your arms wrap tightly around him in fear of falling off. You can feel him laugh lightly.

“You did that on purpose, so I’d hug you like this,” you grumbled. 

“Maybe. Maybe not. Prove it.” He chuckles. You roll your eyes again, and he takes off. You keep your eyes closed the entire time. Too afraid to open them. The sound of you guys whipping past cars and the loud wind was already terrifying. You didn’t want to see the flying lights just yet. 

We arrived at a huge white house. It's seriously huge—pillars at the front porch. Magnificent garden. Different colored lights on the lawn, music blaring out the front door. You grabbed Jeno’s arm tightly, and he patted your hand. 

“Is this too much?” He asked, concerned

“No. No, it’s okay. I should be fine.” You smiled at him.

He nodded, and you walked inside. He was being greeted by people who knew him, congratulating him on his win at the race. 

“Ah, it was all thanks to my Lucky Charm here.” He says to the people,  smiling at you.

You continued to walk through the house, trying to find your group.

“Who’s house is this?” you asked. 

“Mins. Her parents left her everything since she has no siblings.”

“Oh. Is it just her alone here? It must be hard for her.”

“No, her girlfriend lives here. And she rents out the rooms to people for cheap. Mostly college students since the university is close by. Or for free if there’s a family or individuals who need help for a bit.” 

“Her parents are probably super proud of her for that. Wow.” you sighed.

“Hey!! Glad you got here in one piece.” Min came running up to you, hugging you both. “There’s tons of food in the kitchen, so please help yourself with anything you want. There are drinks too. Pool in the back as well if you wanna swim.” 

“OH, FOOD, thank god!” Jeno exclaimed. Throwing his head back. “Okay, we will be in the kitchen. Thanks, Min!” He started pulling you away, so you waved goodbye to her as she laughed. 

Mark was in the kitchen as well. He was getting pizza and a drink. 

“Hey, y/n. Do you want a drink?” He asks, “There's some jungle juice in here.”

“What’s that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like just a bunch of alcohol and juice or soda mixed. There's also Soju Lemonade.” 

“Soju Lemonade, please,” you say, and he nods and fills up a red solo cup with the drink. 

Jeno looks at you questioningly. “I didn’t know you drank.”

“Sometimes. Not often.” you sip on the lemonade. It was refreshing

“Hmm, hiding a wild side from me?” 

“Find out,” you smirk. The alcohol was making you a little brave already.

“Sheesh. I might” 

You walked out to the back, finding the rest of your group playing beer pong against each other. You watched and finished the rest of your drink by the time they were done with the game. 

“Wanna play next round?” Johnny asks you.

“I’ve never played before..” you say shyly.

“Don’t worry! I’ll be your partner,” your best friend says. “We can play against Jaehyun and Jeno.” 

“Oooooo, Boyfriends vs. girlfriends, I like that!” Johnny exclaims, 

“Jeno is not my boyfr-” you start to say before someone hands a ping pong ball to you. 

“Ladies first,” Jaehyun says, smirking at your best friend.

“You guys are going down,” She laughs. 

The game was competitive. A small crowd gathered around to watch. Unfortunately, you did have to drink as many cups as you made them drink due to making the ball in the cup. It was down to the last cup on both sides—your turn. If you miss, you lose. You concentrated on the opening and threw the ball. It landed, and the boys hung their heads in defeat. The crowd cheered, and you and your best friend high-fived and hugged. 

“I will request my prize later tonight,” She said to Jae, kissing him on the cheek. 

“And what do you want for yours,” jeno asked, looking at you. “A kiss?” 

“No. You can buy me coffee for a month,” you smiled. Chance at free coffee for a month. Imma take it. Hhehehe

“Fine,” He huffed. “Sure you don’t want a kiss with that?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

You walk back into the house. You realize how much you drank and start to feel a little tired. You sit down on the couch, and Jeno follows. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

“I think I had a bit too much. But I'm okay.”

Then Haechan comes up and slumps down next to you, trying to give you another drink. Jeno shoots him a glare and takes the drink. 

“Don’t. No more for her tonight” He says, concern and sternness in his voice. Haechan nods and says sorry. Your heart fluttered again at Jeno’s words. 

Jisung walks up to you. 

“Do you need anything? A blanket? Food? Is it too loud? You can have your earbuds to listen to your playlist,” He says. What a caring boy. 

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, JiJi.” you smile at him. 

You spend the rest of the time watching your friends, talking and Laughing. Enjoying being with them. 

“How are you feeling? Ready to go home?”

Jeno asks, patting your head.

“Mm. Yea. I think I’m sobered up enough. Let’s go,” you say, standing up. 

You say goodbye to everyone, and you hop back on his bike. Your arms around him comfortably. This time, you keep your eyes open. The lights look pretty as you speed by. You look up and see the stars and the moon moving with you. It’s mesmerizing. You arrive at your house. He holds his hand out to help you off. He takes off your helmet and walks you to the front door. 

“Did you have fun?” He asks,

“I did, actually. A lot of fun. Thank you for inviting me.” You said,

“Thank you for coming. And supporting me. It means a lot to me.” He leans in and kisses your forehead.

Maybe it was the last bit of alcohol giving you courage, or maybe you were finally not overthinking things. But you kissed his lips without thinking. He froze a little. Surprised. Then his hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to his body, and the kiss deepened a little. His lips were soft. You pulled away. His face was full of shock.

“What was that for?” He asked.

“Part of your prize for winning the race. And you know, good luck for your drive home,” you said, trying to seem casual while your heart was beating up and out of your throat. 

“Ahh. Thank you. I hope I get those often.” He smiled.

“Maybe. You’ll have to find out. I’ll be expecting you with my coffee tomorrow.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

you smiled and unlocked your front door. He doesn’t leave until you close it behind yourself. Maybe you’ll think less and just let things happen…

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 9

Hello! Thank you so much for the out pouring of support last time. I love that everyone loved the tattoo idea. If you want to see a basic idea of what it would look like, check the reblogs of part 8 (though if I had the energy I would throw into an editing program I’d skinny up the sword a bit and make the wings wider).

We meet the candidates for the apprenticeship and we learn the history of Jeff’s tattoo (warning for racism and bad cops) and Eddie’s reason for the wings.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

*

Steve walked back to the front the little paper in his shaking hands.

“I’ve already had a couple people this morning asking about the apprentice gig,” Robin told him. “When should I have them come in?”

Steve rubbed him bottom lip thoughtfully. “I don’t have to go to Dustin’s until 5pm on Sunday, so have them all come at 10am then.”

Robin nodded. “He choose a design then?” she asked, nodded to the paper in his hand.

Steve nodded back his lips pressed together as he handed it to her to scan.

She looked down at it in shock. “He picked this one?”

Steve nodded again, unsure if he could trust himself to speak.

“This is going to take a long time and a lot of money,” Robin whispered. “He’s aware of that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve croaked. “He knows. He was very insistent and is able to pay for it. All of it.”

Robin nodded. “Then let’s get this bad boy printed for him then.”

She printed it into three pieces. One for each wing and one for the sword.

When he came back into the room, Eddie was laying on his chest with his shirt off. Steve licked his lips as his eyes trailed down the plains of Eddie’s back to where it dipped into the man’s jeans.

This was going to be a lot harder than he thought it was going to be.

“Okay,” Steve said after taking a moment to compose himself. “What we are going to do is trace the outlines and then we’ll spend two to three hours each week, working on it. It will probably take about ten to twelve weeks, doing it once a week. So if you want to move it up two days a week, I would recommend that.”

Eddie twisted to face him. “Yeah, I figured it was going to take some time. When I set up my appointments with Robin, I’ll make sure to do twice a week.”

“Sounds good,” Steve said, pulling on the latex gloves and sitting down. He scooted as close to Eddie as he could and picked his gun.

“You know,” he murmured over the sound of the gun. “I don’t think you ever said why you wanted the tattoo so badly you waited to find the right person to do it for you. And thanks for trusting me with it by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” Eddie said. “The work you did on Jeff’s tattoo was phenomenal. It was a very personal tattoo for him and you made it special. Did he tell you how got the scar he wanted you to cover up?”

Steve hummed, placing the first stencil down. “Yeah, something about how when Miranda and him first starting dating, someone called the cops on him, thinking he was kidnapping her. And how despite both of them saying they were on a date and Jeff having his hands up, the cop still fired, hitting his right arm.”

Eddie nodded. “It was messed up. He thought for sure Miranda was going to book it, but they stayed together and it’s been five years now.”

“So he got it for the fifth anniversary?” Steve asked, concentrating on the outline.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “It was Miranda’s suggestion, actually.”

“They seem like great people.”

Eddie smiled fondly. “The best. I think he’s still working up the courage to ask her to marry him.”

Steve laughed. “He better hurry up otherwise Robin might try and steal her from him.”

Eddie laughed too. “Well considering they both swing for both teams, she might actually have a chance.”

“Oh god,” Steve said as he finished the first wing. “Don’t tell Robin that. She might actually try. And I don’t want to mess up a good thing, you know?”

“Fair.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip a moment. “But, yeah, the tattoo. It’s to commemorate a poor boy from the trailer park making it in the big city to play music for a living. Actually fucking making it.”

Steve smiled. “And the bat wings were for the aesthetic?”

“Hell yeah they are,” Eddie replied with a grin. “But, holy shit, Stevie. The sword of fucking Kas...it’s like you read my mind or some shit.”

Steve lifted the gun as he laughed. “Nah, I just listened when you and Dustin talked about it.”

Eddie adjusted himself in the chair and loosened the muscles in his shoulders a bit. He settled and nodded. “You did really good, sweetheart. I love it.”

They just fell into conversation as easy as breathing and far too soon Steve was done with the outline.

Steve pulled off his gloves, having set aside the gun already. “Go on, it’s not much to look at right now, but the bare bones are pretty fucking all right.’’

Eddie immediately bounced to his feet to go look in the mirror. He turned every direction and after a moment of watching him Steve stood up with a large hand mirror and tilted it until Eddie could see his back.

Eddie let out a gasp. “Holy fucking shit. This is going to be so epic. I can’t wait!”

Steve smiled fondly. “I’m glad it’s starting out okay, at least.”

Eddie grinned at him through the mirror. “It’s absolutely wicked.”

“Do you have someone who can rub the lotion on your back?” Steve asked, biting his bottom lip.

Eddie nodded. “The guys have offered to take turns helping me with it until it’s done.”

Steve hummed. He was a little disappointed. He was going to offer to do it for him. But it was a bit of a relief, knowing Eddie had such good friends that were willing to take care of him.

“That’s sweet of them,” he murmured, taking the time to gently wrap the tattoo the best he could in Saran wrap to protect it on the way home.

Eddie scoffed. “They only offered because they’re excitable children who want a sneak peak at the tattoo before anyone else.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, okay. That sounds like what I’d seen of them.”

Eddie turned around once Steve was done and grinned at him. “Am I going to see you at Nightmare Holes again this weekend?”

Steve winced. “I want to but I can’t this weekend. I’m meeting a couple people on Sunday morning morning and I cannot be hungover for that.’

Eddie huffed out a small chuckle. “Maybe.”

Steve shoved at him playfully. “I’ll make it up to you. Why don’t you come over again next Monday and I’ll make dinner for us again.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “That sounds great, wha’cha making?”

“What do you like?” Steve asked as he cleaned up. “Italian, Chinese, Mexican? Something else? I’m sure I could find a good recipe in time.”

Eddie tapped his lip with his index finger thoughtfully. “Can you do sesame chicken?”

Steve grinned. “Oh, I knew there was a reason I liked you. I love sesame chicken and have a kick ass recipe, I think you’ll love.”

Eddie grinned back. “Can’t wait pretty boy.”

Steve flicked his cleaning rag at Eddie’s ass. “Now go on, some of us poor schlubs have to work hard for our living, rock star.”

Eddie laughed in delight as he skipped away from Steve’s deadly aim with his rag. He got to the door and saluted, before turning on his heel and walking back to the front desk, shirt in hand.

*

Steve picked up a dozen donuts and coffees for him and Robin. Robin had already gone in to open the shop for the interviewees so he felt he owed it to her to at least get her coffee and donuts.

When he got to the shop he was a little surprised how many cars were out front. They couldn’t all be there for the apprenticeship, could they? He walked into see the entire waiting room filled with applicants.

He turned to Robin and she looked as shocked as he was. He set the donuts in front Robin’s desk and handed her the coffee.

“Hello,” he said turning around to greet the...he quickly counted, the six hopefuls. “I’m Steve Harrington and welcome to Royal Pain. You’re all welcome to have a donut and we have water and paper cups over to the side.” He gestured to where it was and most head turned to see where he meant.

“Is this really a tattoo parlor, man?” one of the applicants asked. He was what Steve would have stereotyped a California surfer boy. Bleach blond hair that fell to his shoulders, tanned skin, dark blue eyes that were currently glaring at Steve.

Steve let his shoulders roll back as he regarded the man in question. “What? The bright, colorful design precludes it from being a place people come to get tattoos, how?”

The guy leveled another glare at Steve and then leapt to his feet. “Whatever, this blows. I’m out of here.” He stormed out, pushing the door so hard it clanged against the wall harshly.

Steve looked at the remaining five. “Anyone else have a problem with the aesthetics?”

There were people that exchanged glances, but they ended up all shaking their heads no.

“Good.”

A pretty blonde girl with bright green eyes and a sparkling smile raised her hand.

“Yes?” Steve asked pointing at her.

“Not to be lumped in with the asshole that just left,” she began shyly, “but I really don’t see any tattoos on you and, well...”

Steve grinned. “And it makes it a little hard to trust me as a tattoo artist, right?”

She nodded, her high pony tail bouncing as she did.

Robin rolled her eyes, but wisely said nothing. Steve showed her his right forearm. “I didn’t do this one, this is the first tattoo I got though.” It was of a small vanilla ice cream cone. “I got this after my first real job at an ice cream shop that burned down.”

A lot of eyebrows shot up at that, but no one uttered a word.

He pulled at his collar showing a female robin on his shoulder right below the clavicle. “Got this one when my best friend turned twenty-one. She has a matching tattoo in the same place.”

He pulled up his shirt to show a lion devouring a bloody heart on his right side. “My friends called my lion-hearted, my detractors called me a bleeding heart, so I got this.”

Steve put his shirt down. “Yeah, I don’t look like your stereotypical tattoo artist that has their whole body covered in tats. But I’m one of those weirdos that only gets a tattoo if it means something to me. But make no mistake I’m good. I have had this shop for three years and only been a tattooist for five. And I’m taking on apprentices because this shop is so busy I need the help to lighten the load.”

The girl blushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, heaving a heavy sigh. “People who look like me don’t usually become tattoo artists and I think that’s stupid. It shouldn’t just be a certain kind of person that has dyed black hair, piercings, and their body of work all over their body.”

She nodded. “I get what you mean.”

Steve smiled at her. “I figured you would.” He knew that if she was any good, he was going to pick her, hands down.

“Right,” he said turning his attention back to everyone. “I wasn’t expecting so many of you and I realize that isn’t fair to you. If you have somewhere else to be today, make an appointment with Robin,” he cocked his head her direction, “and I’ll meet with you personally at another time. But otherwise, I’ll have Robin call you in the order you arrived and we’ll talk in my room.”

He clapped his hands. “First, let’s give you a tour of the place and if you decide it’s not for you. No hard feelings. Except that guy.” He winked at them and they laughed.

He showed them his room and the other rooms that would be for the apprentices to practice in or once they got their own chair if they stayed, it would become their room.

One of the other guys decided that it wasn’t for him and Steve was left with four remaining hopefuls.

And what a strange bunch they were, too. He had the prep girl, but he also had a native boy that while he didn’t look the part of the surfer dude, embodied it with his very soul. If the guy got brought on, Steve would have to pull him aside and make sure he didn’t do marijuana at work, because the guy looked a little baked at the moment. He also had a Goth chick complete with the tattoos and piercings, and dyed black hair. She stuck out like a sore thumb, if Steve was honest. And the final hopeful was  this squirrely looking guy with dark wavy brown hair.

All of them had more tattoos than Steve did.

He sighed to himself. He wasn’t sure this was going to work out. He knew he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, better than most, but still as he looked at the remaining applicants he felt a little disappointed.

He sighed and went back to the office to wait for Robin to call the first one in. It was going to be a long day.

***

Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18 Part 19  Part 20  Part 21   Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25 Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Epilogue

Look, I love Robin with all my heart, but we all know the reason she didn’t ask Vickie out wasn’t that she had a boyfriend, but that her partner was a boy. She would 100% back off if told to, but she would so go for it if she thought had a chance. (Looking at you Ronance shippers, if you think that Robin was flirting with Nancy in the Upside Down, Nancy was still with Jonathan at the time.)

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination 

[cupidskissx]

i was revisiting the instagram tributes that other drivers posted for seb and it got me thinking about what they would post for max when he inevitably retires in 2028. i think lando and daniels would be funny, pierre and alexs too. not sure who would be on the grid by then but maybe liam or yuki is his teammate and they would post something too. but what has me in a chokehold is what charles’ post could be like. would he post a picture from the karting days? would he have won a championship by then and post one of the two of them from the fia gala? what would his caption be?

Hi Anon, quick question, are you trying to induce a mental breakdown? 🫠😘

As much as I love to live in my delusion-bubble and transform every measly crumb into a three course meal, I’m gonna be real here for a second, I can’t see their posts being as heartfelt as we want them to be 💔

However, I’m a Lestappie through and through so here are a few of my scenarios/opinions (delusion included)

If Max retires first

Charles’ post — logical edition:

Charles’ post would likely be some shot of them driving, maybe Silverstone ‘19, or Jeddah ‘22 with a boring caption along the lines of:

Congratulations on a stellar career.

Charles’ post — Lestappen edition:

My heart screams that he’d pick a post-race embrace (hopefully one day we’ll have a proper one):

Fighting you was some of the best fun I’ve ever had.

The track won’t be the same without you there to push the limits and push me wide.

Enjoy this next chapter, you’ve earned the rest.

If Charles retires first

Max’s post — logical edition:

Max is a big softy, okay. HE would be the one to post them in their karting years, because he is the first to remind everyone they grew up racing each other (to combat the nostalgia of course he’d pick a photo from when he won his CIK-FIA World KZ Championship).

Together from the start until the end.

Well done on all your achievements over the years, mate 👍🏻

Max’s post — Lestappen edition:

It has to be the Austria ‘22 Podium, could it be anything else? Even with his rudimentary (and sometimes obliviously innocent) understanding of social media, in my mind even Max is aware how iconic this moment was.

It pays to never give up on a dream.

Congrats on winning your maiden championship and ending your career on a high. You deserve it.

I hate to admit a piece of me might miss seeing #16 in my mirrors, but thanks for not sticking around to wear my #1.

- Your biggest fan

If anyone else has any takes on this, or wants to share some thoughts, I’m all ears ❤️

📸 Credit to all the photographers, without them we’d wither away.

[autisticgaledekarios]

Hey!

i know u stated that u are not confident in honkai star rail but, i was wondering if u could do a luka x reader?

i have a prompt which hopefully is not that detailed.

luka and reader try to set up seelie and Bronya but they pull an uno reverse and they are in fact pretending to not be dating to set luka and reader up (becuz them setting seelie and bronya and bringing them together)

i hope this is not too much! also u can call me 🪞 anon!

Fake dates and cake trays : Luka x gn!reader

I’M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!ALL MY WRITING MOTIVATION DISAPPEARED 😭 take this apology fic anon-which-i-cant-find-the-emoji-for [also i have 0 idea if my writing Luka was accurate or not :,> ] anyway i edited it so it was like christmas special :D i like ice skating expect ice skating fics WC:1079

Tick,tock,tick,tock. You glanced at your watch, the other two were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.

“Calm down [name], it’ll work!Our plan is foolproof” He chuckled to himself, his red hair swaying a bit. You glanced at his meal, he had ordered a starter. You hadn’t been hungry, so you simply got some water. Luca had scoffed everything down, well almost everything. Even the post-match hunger couldn’t convince him to eat some simple vegetables that came on the side.

You smiled to yourself, “are you even going to eat that?” you moved your hand to the side and grabbed your fork, moving it towards his plate. He made a defensive pout sort of expression. Before giving up and sliding the plate towards you. And you continued chatting.

“Are you going to order anything else?It’s been an hour since you both finished your food” The rather agitated waitress said, the still smile not moving. You glanced nervously at Luka, neither of you had seen Seele and Bronya, the entire reason you had been here.

“Yeah! I’ll get… that please” Luka chirped, pointing to something on the menu. “And they’ll have [your favourite meal idk] “ The waitress nodded, walking away quickly. “I mean, we’re here already?Might as well get some food too.” He chuckled and shrugged.

You didn’t question how he knew your favourite.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You both waited by the fountain, your eyes were scanning the crowd— and mostly Luka, who was currently trying to pick up a pigeon. To no avail.

FINALLY! You spotted Bronya walk out of the flower shop with Seele, you quickly grabbed the back of Luka’s vest thing, and yanked him towards you.

“Hey— be careful next time” he huffed,rubbing the back of his neck.Before he saw what you saw. “Wait— they didn’t buy anything?!C’mon that was the best plan we have tried so far!” he whined slightly,running his hands through his hair before grinning. “Well! we’ll just have to try again”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You watched as Luka tapped his fingers on the bench, the other two were late again. He seemed restless, or maybe excited. Maybe both. You sighed, resting your chin in your hands.

“do i have something on my face?” He said, and you snapped back. He was looking you directly in the eyes, and for a moment, one moment, you wanted nothing more than to cup his cheeks in your hands and kiss him.

At that thought, you forced a cough, trying to fight the heat rising in your cheeks. “It’s nothing, i just zoned out” You chuckle, and for a second he frowns, before his phone beeps,and he quickly— far too quick to be normal— grabs his phone. He sighs, but you can see his eyes glitter in a way.

“Bronya and Seele aren’t going, apparently there’s some business about the underground they need to sort out.” He says, leaning down to tighten his ice skates. “it’s just us two again”

You stood up, shaking your feet a bit to get used to the weight on your feet, you grabbed Luka’s arm and pulled him up too. He stumbled a bit, but you managed to catch him. You couldn’t help looking at him for a few seconds longer than usual.

He started to walk forward towards the rink, happily dragging you along now, he seemed eager to get on the ice. I mean, it was the best chance ever! If you fell over he could catch you and it would be just oh so romantic, and maybe afterwards he’d be able to ask you to be his partner like he’d been meaning to for the last month. Seele had officially put the boot down, if he wasn’t going to say something. She would do it for him.

You both stood at the edge of the ice, Luka was eager, too eager. He immediately set a foot out, but he clearly didn’t expect it to slip so much as it did.And his leg gave out under him. You managed to catch him , and the look of embarrassment almost made it harder to not laugh than it already was. He was bright red!

He tried again,this time a bit more careful. He stumbled and wobbled around the place,managing to stand up straight while clinging to the railing. After a set of finger guns and almost slipping again. You joined Luka on the ice, it was a bit slippy. But you were able to more or less stay upright. Unlike your friend, you grabbed both his hands, the warm skin of one contrasting with the cool metal of the other.

With some movement you were able to go slightly backwards, you did almost fall. But you got the hang of it, Luka however did not. And every few metres he’d fall again, you’d catch him.

You weren’t able to catch him the last time, he had been improving, and wanted to go a bit of length without your help, but ended up slipping on the ice, and ended up with his palm and knees scratched by the now roughened ice.

Now you were both sitting in an attached cafe, hot chocolates in hand. You watched as he tried to discretely eat the cream before continuing to drink it, but with the low quality wood stir he had picked up it wasn’t going too well. He looked up, and you spent a full moment staring into those damned blue eyes. He tilted his head, and scrunched his eyes slightly in confusion. But you just chuckled in response.

As the time passed, you could sense him getting nervous, his legs were bouncing and he kept glancing around the room. You knew what was going to happen, he wasn’t exactly subtle.

But it was still impossible to not smile when it finally happened. When he finally turned to you and smiled that same damn smile that made your heart feel like it was about to explode. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, so, wanna be my partner?Like officially and all—“

You grinned, and he seemed confused for a moment. Not seeming to get it. “Can i kiss you?”

“what?”

“can i kiss you” you repeated, and he nodded. You moved forward softly, kissing him softly on the lips, his lips tasted faintly like cherry chapstick, and you faintly recognised it as one of your old ones.

“you stole my chapstick again didnt you?”

[carpooling-the-internet]

Star Trek fanfic recs

A long list of some of my all time favorite Star Trek fics. Not in any order. I just combed through my ao3 bookmarks for fics that still resonate with me and really blew me away. I will try to tag the authors if I can find blogs for them. If you know an authors blog I haven’t tagged, please tag them!

I dont have the spoons to write lil reviews for each fic bc theres toooooo many but maybe I’ll come back and edit some in sometime.

And eventually I’m gonna make a list like this for Sherlock Holmes and a few other fandoms. Also want to make one specific to podfics. We’ll see what happens first! This took me way longer than I thought it would…

Recs below the cut!

Star Trek TOS and AOS

The Thousandth Man (56187 words) by Ophelia_j In the wake of pon farr, the events on Vulcan are weighing heavy on Spock and his Captain. But will their attempt to fix the problem only make things worse?

The effect of sucrose on Vulcans (2290 words) by Ophelia_j After a successful diplomatic mission, Jim begins to suspect there's something wrong with Spock. Some Old Married Spirk Fluff for the 2019 OMS Challenge, for the awesome plaidshirtjimkirk.

The Eleventh Hour (8551 words) by Ophelia_j During a joint lecture at the Academy, Spock senses that Kirk is growing tired of the secrecy around their relationship and takes steps to resolve the matter.

A Crazy Little Thing Called Love (14940 words) by VTsuion The development of Kirk and Spock's relationship over the course of The Original Series, told in a series of off-screen moments.

The World Turned Upside Down (24777 words) by Jenna Hilary Sinclair On a planet torn by civil war, Kirk must battle insurgents, a Vulcan Healer, and his own heartbreak to find his way to Spock.

The Ren shat'var Trilogy (184,403 words) by CateAdams A split-second decision changes Jim's life forever, as he enters into a bond with Spock in the face of certain torture. Enemies to the Federation emerge from unlikely places, and the command team must contend with unexpected threats, as well as challenges within their own intense relationship. In this three-part series, the Enterprise races across the galaxy to confront the unknown, and Jim and Spock discover the true significance of their unprecedented connection.

First, Best Destiny - Parts One and Two (387733 words) by Ophelia_j A novel-length retelling of original Star Trek canon through the lens of one of the greatest relationships ever committed to film. Using missing scenes, episode tags, and original story-telling. Ultimately a Generations fix-it.

All the Time in the World (27856 words) by LSPINGLES The death of Edith Keeler affects Kirk and Spock in different ways. Spock invites Kirk to come with him to Vulcan to heal. Along the way the learn something about their feelings for each other.

Spice (276553 words) by eimeo It’s a question of biology. Vulcan biology. The problem with falling in love with a member of an insanely private species is that it just might take you the best part of a five year mission to work out that the feelings are requited. And then you might discover that he’s already decided that the two of you can never be together. And what are you supposed to do if he won’t tell you why?

Fulfilling the Needs of the One (Or the Both) (8741 words) by plaidshirtjimkirk Spock begins to wonder if his relationship with Jim has been one-sided in his own favor.

Touch Upon the Wonders that You See (4071 words) by waldorph Sarek does not always understand his son, but that does not mean he does not love him.

Entering Orbit (30957 words) by museaway Jim escapes to Iowa to avoid the media frenzy following the Narada incident, but a late-night miscommunication results in Spock turning up on his front porch.

Something Smart to Do (21322 words) by kianspo In which Jim finds himself fake-married to his first officer every other month. It's not his fault. Mostly. Dowries and Klingons are involved. Starfleet is decidedly not amused.

Don't Stop Believing (205901 words) by kianspo The story follows Spock from his own days as a cadet at Starfleet Academy to the ‘present day’ when he’s Kirk’s first officer and the Enterprise is on its five-year mission. Essentially, the story of Spock’s first real love followed by the story of him finding the love of his life. Ad astra per aspera.

And Then I Let It Go (10632 words) by kianspo Post-Star Trek Beyond. The crew of the Enterprise gets a breather while they are waiting for their new ship. Jim uses the time to do something he had sworn he would never do.

The Lotus Eaters (93594 words) by aldora89 Stranded on the planet Sigma Nox while searching for a missing away team, Spock and Kirk find themselves pitted against a disturbing native life form. With the captain out of commission on a regular basis and Spock struggling to preserve his stoicism, staying alive is difficult enough – but when a slim chance for escape surfaces, their resolve is truly put to the test. Together they must fight for survival in the heart of an alien jungle, and in the process, uncover the mystery of the planet’s past. Slow build K/S.

Atlas (135529 words) by distractedKat Between what was and what will be stands James Tiberius Kirk, in all his fractured patchwork glory. Because saving the Federation was only the beginning. A novel-length continuation of the 2009 movie told in four parts. Cross-posted from FFN. PODFIC AVAILABLE! https://archiveofourown.org/works/652116/chapters/1187249

The Word Withheld (12032 words) by j_s_cavalcante After retrieving Kirk from the interspatial rift of "The Tholian Web," Spock realizes his oath to Starfleet and his service aboard the Enterprise are in jeopardy because he has denied to himself—and withheld from Kirk—a certain truth about the nature of the Vulcan relationship called "t’hy’la."

this is what happens when you save earth, apparently (5454 words) by WerewolvesAreReal “So, why haven't you settled down with some lucky lady yet?” the interviewer asks. Maybe it's the blinding set-lights, or the fact that he hasn't slept in thirty-five hours. But for some reason Kirk blurts, “Honestly, they all end up getting jealous of Spock.”

Four times the Enterprise Crew didn´t realize that their commanding officers were married to each other and one time they finally found out (4130 words) by razzleberryicedtea In which Spock and Jim casually forget to mention that they are married, and the Enterprise crew is too oblivious to notice on their own

A Star to Steer By (32043 words) by Borealisblue Kidnapped, injured, and headed towards Romulan space, Kirk could only be grateful that his last act was saving Spock from the same fate. And all it had cost was a stolen kiss.

An Open Secret (3495 words) by TransScribe Amanda Grayson knew her son. She could read him, easily. That might've been why she had suspicions about his relationship long before he said anything. It was more likely because subtlety was not a trait Spock had inherited.

the book of love (7297 words) by miss_frankenstein When yet another away mission goes awry, Jim and Spock are left stranded on a hostile planet with nothing to do but talk. What follows is a conversation about art and literature, life and death, love and friendship.

Take My Hand (My Whole Life Too) (5981 words) by pastmydancingdays Whilst in one of the most dangerous situations of his life, Jim Kirk came to a realisation that he should have had a very long time ago. Two, in fact, and he was about to let neither go to waste. A potential epilogue to Amok Time.

Ashayam (3378 words) by Willowe Spock knows he has no right to refer to Jim as any sort of endearment, even in the privacy of his own thoughts. If he had only listened to this logic he wouldn't find himself in this position, standing on the bridge having just called his captain "ashayam".

@ophelia-j

@razzleberryicedtea

@vtsuion

@plaidshirtjimkirk

@cate-adams

@pastmydancingdays

@werewolves-are-real

@eimeo-blog

@aldora89-blog

@museaway

@kianspo

@lspingles

@waldorph

@miss-frankenstein

[ryuichirou]

Replies

We gave you a break from my art but not from my replies lol

Anonymous asked:

Will you draw more Scott Pilgrim content?

Not in the nearest future. Like I wrote in the post itself: we haven’t watched the show yet; and probably won’t for quite some time (I’m positive it’s not something we’d be able to recover from to jump back into twst). But Wallace’s anime design is adorable, so I really wanted to draw him with Todd. We’ll definitely watch it though, and then I might spam more art with them... or keep it to myself.

Anonymous asked:

Out of curiosity, do you have like a genderbend tag or something to see all your works with the twisted boys as girls together 👀

I do! It’s not strictly about twst, but it’s the only thing I post nowadays, so it probably doesn’t matter: #genderswap

I do have quite a lot of drawings of twst boys as girlies, but we haven’t posted much of them… I hope we will one day. 💪😔

Anonymous asked:

Do you think that Fem!Jamil would have less complaints than Regular!Jamil about those times where Kalim tries to dress her up? My guess is that she would simply see it as Fem!Kalim wanting to "play dolls" and wouldn't really think much past that. Annoying, yes, but nothing more than a childish whim. Also, if this requests involve crossdressing, I imagine that her male counterpart would make more of a fuss about it than her.

(we talked about fem!KaliJami in our reply yesterday)

At first yeah, probably. She’s definitely more comfortable with it than the regular Jamil, because it’s easier for her to rationalize it in a non-romantic/non-sexual way. It really is as if Kalim just treats her like a pretty doll, and it’s nothing unusual: they used to play like this a lot when they were little. But when she’ll realise that whenever she’s dressed in pretty silks (and sometimes quite revealing ones), Kalim looks at her in an amazed but also clearly enamoured way. The moment Jamil realised that Kalim probably desires her, she’ll start treating these little dress up games differently.

Anonymous asked:

Ortho got a new card for new years. So picture him with Vil in his new years. Same goes with Rook in his new year. You know what? Have the three of them together in new years?

Ortho’s been getting so many new cards recently! He deserves all of them. The best boy lol Really liked the new year’s one!

Vil’s New Years outfit was so good that my heart actually stops whenever I remember him, and I’m super excited that he could be paired up with either Rook or Ortho now. Or both~

Anonymous asked:

Hey Ryu and katsu, did you guys read the translation for the previous jp event 'Playful Land'? I haven't seen you guys talk about it or mention it, so i'm curious to hear your thoughts and opinions on this event.

personally, i enjoyed most of the event  This is basically falling into the Black Butler territory lol (But i heard rumours that Yana wasn't involved in this event and a few previous ones apparently?).

Also, what do you guys think of the two new characters? Fellow and Gidel. I swear Gidel looks almost identical to cheka :'DD

Anon!! Sorry that it took so long to reply. We haven’t seen this event yet, so we edited out some of the parts of your ask to keep it spoiler-free; I don’t know when we’re going to finally watch it, but we’ll keep your ask in the askbox so we could share our thoughts when it happens. It might take quite a long time though, so I’m sorry.

I’ll reply to the rest of the things you’ve mentioned.

I’m not sure about the rumors, but I think Yana mentioned in her twi that she and her team was involved in the writing + design work for the event? But she has to do a lot of things these days, so I can’t say for sure.

The Black Butler vibes are very strong though, the whole circus/carnival theme is like a classic Yana setting, especially when it gets dark and traumatic lol Very excited to learn more once we watch it.

Fellow and Gidel look great!! Really love their design, their sprites are also great, Fellow especially has great expressions, and I really really love sleazy characters in general. Gidel has a lot of Cheka vibes lol but Cheka is more of a >:3 kid, and Gidel is more of a =w=, also I trust Gidel much much less. But in a good way, because once again, sleazy characters = good.

Anonymous asked:

So I've seen this hand held octopus citrus wringer, let's just say it looks like something else, so I'd like you to imagine Azul shoving a tiny octopus up Idia's ass

You mean… this one? Wow, it really looks like something else…

Poor Idia and his poor butt. Come on, Azul, it’s not an orange!!

Anonymous asked:

Neige could be Cady, but in universe fans would probably say he's a good fit for Regina George bc of his beauty

Either way Janis cusses both of them out so Vil gets paid to insult Neige on-screen

Let’s be honest, his fans would be so scandalized by Cady-Neige turning into “the second Regina” during the course of the movie lol I don’t know why I keep picturing his fanbase as a 90% wholesome people but. Still, he would absolutely be celebrated for that role and for going outside of his unproblematic box.

But yeah, if Vil got to play Janis in this scenario he would probably enjoy his opportunity to vent lol

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector's Edition: Diana Fowl(ey) Play– Part V: AUs, S5-S6

Alas, alas, poor Yorick-- I am not done the Diana fic train. BUT we have reached AU fics... and that means I only have this post and at least another one. So, freedom is within my grasp.

Loose chronological order below~!

ceruleanmilieu’s One of the Girls (alt. Ao3)

""Agent Fowley, I apologize for any perceived disrespect,” Scully said. “We were simply discussing theories—”

“Theories?” Diana repeated. “That does take me back. Back to the basement office. There’s nothing quite like working a case with Fox Mulder.”

“You flatter me, Agent Fowley,” Mulder said, shifting closer to his partner. “But Agent Scully and I are running late for a meetup with Danny. We’ll report our findings to Agent Spender as soon as possible.”

Diana nodded, and it was as though something in the shrewd way her thin lips upturned, Scully understood the other woman’s cool behavior. There had been a moment of confusion at first, but being locked in a conversational triangle with the exes gave her a sharp thrill.""

The End Mulder evades Diana's amorous attempts by pretending he is dating Scully. Scully, meanwhile, is shocked and a bit peeved; but comes around, helping him to flesh out a plan.

@contrivedcoincidences6 / Spooky66 / geektime66's

Quantifiable (Ao3)

""Diana’s eyes narrowed but before she could say anything Mulder spoke up, “Scully’s right, this could be the key to everything in the X Files. We need to bring this to Skinner, this is leverage, let’s go.”

In true Mulder fashion he began to gather his things in a rush, ready to move onto the next thing but Diana reached forward to grab his hand.""

AU-- The End Mulder and Scully are dating; and it's her great delight to step all over Diana's toes.

@baronessblixen’s (Ao3)  

In Hallways (Ao3)

""Excuse me?" He grabs her arm, not gently, and drags her into a corner. His body is too close to hers and he can smell her; she hasn't changed her perfume. She's the same woman who left him years ago.

"I saw the way you looked at… what's her name?"

"You know very well what her name is," Mulder growls.

"Her name isn't on the door," Diana says, smiling innocently, showing her white teeth. "It must have slipped my mind.""

AU-- The End Diana is furious Mulder and Scully are already dating, taking her anger out snidely on Scully. Mulder stands up for her.

All I Want For Christmas (Is You) (Ao3)

""Aren’t you going to let me in?” She pushes at his chest with a smile and he knows she wouldn’t accept a no anyway. He steps aside and his heart leaps into his throat.

“Mulder, who-”

“Agent Scully.” The two women speak at the same time, staring each other down. Mulder watches, swallows, and doesn’t know what to do.

“Rather early for a visit.” Diana is the first of them to find her voice. “But I see you’re leaving.” Scully touches the scarf that’s around her neck and he sees her face fall. She presses her lips together, swallowing what he’s sure are some colorful words. It breaks his heart to see her smile gone. He won’t hear her laughter again tonight.""

The Ghosts That Stole Christmas Diana drops by Mulder's. He leaves her and chases after Scully, who had booked it to her family's.

Making Progress

""No, Diana. That was all you.” Mulder’s voice picks up, is louder now over the fake laughter on the screen. “No, I did not. Not once.” If only Scully could hear Diana’s side of the conversation. Mulder is quiet, appears to listen. He sighs once, runs his hand over his face.

Arcadia Scully overhears Mulder laying down the law to Diana on the phone. (Sidenote: this might not be AU, but I missed the opportunity to put it in an earlier fic list. Whoops~.)

Gwendolyn's Fox Mulder Estrogen Brigade

""OK, Scully. But it wasn't exactly my proudest moment," Mulder began, deciding to get through it as quickly as possible. "Diana and I had been seeing each other for a while but I was just stumbling into the X-Files and all of a sudden, I guess I just wasn't as interested in the relationship as I had been. She wanted a commitment and even started talking about marriage.

"Well, I sort of freaked out about that. You may not know this about me, Scully, but I have a bit of a problem with intimacy, which Phoebe probably had a little something to do with." He stopped to gauge Scully's reaction; she only nodded sagely and arched her brow to indicate that he should continue.

"Anyway, she had to go out of the country for a few months on assignment, so instead of making a clean break with her like I should have, I said that during the time she was away we should take some time off, see other people. I was hoping that while she was gone she'd realize what a basket case I was and meet somebody else and dump me."

"But that didn't happen?"

"No. She kept calling and writing to me the whole time she was gone and when it got time for her to come back, I panicked. So..." he paused briefly, averting his eyes from his partner's intense gaze and bowing his head before continuing in a rush "I decided to tell her I'd married somebody else. I bought a ring and everything.""

Crackfic-esque-- Pre-FTF Mulder is bombarded by both of his exes as they team up to forcefully help him and Scully on a case. (I love this one to death. Hilarious and surprisingly wholesome?)

@frostbitepandaaaaa / FrostbitePanda's Four Days AU

""Besides, I’m not really here for professional reasons, like I told you before. My motivations are more… personal.”

Scully catches the moan of pain that bubbles up from her gut before it can escape her mouth, clenches her teeth and finishes her drink. She feels like, maybe, throwing up. She feels like, maybe, turning tail and fleeing. She feels like, maybe, her and Mulder would never be left in peace.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a Special Agent Fox Mulder, would you?”

Her mouth is completely dry, her voice simply lodged in her throat as good as an axe in a stump. The woman in front of her seems blissfully unaware.

“Him and I… we have a bit of a history, you know,” Diana goes on, goes on torturing her. She stirs her drink, looking sad, wistful. “We left things a bit… unfinished.""

Part 2 of Mulder and Scully's aftermath in Antarctica, Diana Fowley crashes an FBI ball, surprising Scully (who hadn't met her in The End) and trying to claim Mulder for herself. Skinner gives Scully the boost she needs to end this charade once and for all.

@suitablyaggrieved / ScullyLovesQueequeg Cancelled Plans

""Oh, hey Diana,” Scully heard Mulder say. This bothered Scully a little since she had only just been there in the office, but she said nothing, pretending not to listen to the ensuing conversation, instead busying herself with the mail that was marked as hers that was resting on the corner of Mulder’s desk.

“This Saturday? Not really, no… I haven’t really thought to ask anyone out. I think she’s doing something. Why?” Mulder asked, glancing at Scully, and then down at his desk.

Memo, report, HR. Things I can deal with later, Scully thought to herself.

“Hmm, I guess. If you’re buying, I’ll consider it. I’ll see you soon, we can sort the details out tomorrow.” Mulder said, with a tone of finality that suggested the conversation was over."" 

It's Valentine's Day post FTF; and Diana invites Mulder out. Scully sorts her wounded feelings, trying to distance herself from the hurt. When Mulder realizes she has no plans, he swaps to celebrate the day with her.

Suzanne Schramm's Fidelity (1/2) and Fidelity (2/2)

""Whether you want to believe it or not, Fox, doesn't change the reality of the situation." she said quietly. Mulder shrugged. "How do you know she's clean?" Diana asked.

"How do I know?" Mulder shifted in his seat to face her. "Diana, I know my partner. I know her. Scully is one of the most honorable people I've ever known. She would never betray me."

"But she has. She didn't tell you where she was going or what she was doing even though it involves your life's work. She lied about why she was taking time off from work. Why would she keep that from you?""

Post The Beginning Gibson begs Scully to secretly meet up with him. He turns on a module in her brain that activates abilities like his own; and when Diana swoops in to capture her-- claiming she's aiding and abetting the Conspirators hiding Gibson-- Mulder almost sides with his ex, unable to explain Scully's bizarre behavior. Almost.

incidental's

Echoes

""As the elevator doors opened up on the fourth floor of his building, she saw Agent Fowley stepping out of his apartment, her arms full of manila folders stamped with case numbers. She turned on her heels, saying some parting words to him before she began walking down the hall towards Scully. As Diana made eye contact with her, Scully wished she could have evaporated on the spot, but it never seemed to work out like that when you most wanted it to. So she settled for offering a small half-wave as they passed each other.

“Agent Scully,” Diana said haughtily, shaking out her long, dark hair a bit as she passed by. Scully opted to say nothing, marching straight to Mulder’s door but pausing as her fist hung in midair, ready to knock. Did she want to find out what Fowley was doing there?

Early S6 Scully runs into Diana leaving Mulder's apartment. She confronts him on why Diana can call him Fox but she can't. Her anger then turns around when Mulder explains his ex's disregard.

Keep It All the Year

""I came here to save you from making a terrible mistake,” Diana said hotly, slamming the first empty martini glass onto the counter. “I assume if you’re out here with her family, it’s because you’re planning on proposing.”

Mulder started laughing, which only seemed to make her angrier.

“You think I don’t remember? You told me once that statistically the most popular month for engagements is December, and the most popular day in the whole year to get engaged is December 25th. You must think I’m an idiot.”

“Finally, you hit the nail on the head,” he said, his voice dripping with derision.""

AU-- TGTSC Scully ropes Mulder into going with her to family Christmas in San Diego. Diana crashes their good vibes by flying out, making out with an unwilling Mulder, and landing him in the hospital from a punch out. Thankfully, Charlie is there to iron out those crazy kids and their wild misunderstandings (while Bill turns from a raging bull into just.. baffled.)

Note: The Diana part is just a tiny portion of this wacky, feel-good read. Highly recommend.

@cutelilcurtain / cutelilscully's (Ao3)

Unnamed

""Eventually she cools down, but then is embarrassed to be around Diana. It’s as if Diana knows some secret about her, has read her diary and knows all the gossip about her. Scully does her best to ignore it, and is surprised and thankful when Diana doesn’t bring it up or ask. Scully wonders if Diana has children, has ever wanted children, has ever wanted Mulder’s children. It makes her angry and jealous.""

Mulder incenses Scully when he tells Diana about their IVF tries. Diana is, surprisingly, sympathetic concerning their failure.

HumphreyWrites / sure-fine-skullz / spookysadsophie's

Sundries in the X-Files Universe

""He begrudgingly answers it, and she watches his lip curl in aggravation as Diana Fowley's voice vibrates through the phone.

When he hangs up, she knows whatever magical moment between them is over."" 

AU-- The IVF works... and it's twins. Though Diana is a blip in the overall fic, she weighs heavily on Scully's early pregnancy journey, constantly drawing Mulder away to herself.

Michelle Kiefer’s Buried Deep

""Everything was familiar to her, a nightmare she'd dreamed night after night, but this time there was something different. A new face looked on from behind the doctors. Diana Fowley's eyes bore into her from above the surgical mask that obscured the rest of her face.""

Post Tithonus Scully has a flash of Diana from an abduction memory during her physio appointment. She keeps her memories to herself.

o0Stella_Dana0o's The Promises You Can't Keep

""Well, well, well... Look who's here!" The brunette said at her partner. Scully could see Diana's mocking look and it didn't take much to make her want to solve this case just to rip that expression out of her face.""

Mulder convinces Scully to help him help out Diana and Jeffrey Spender on a case. Of course, it all goes wrong-- but he's absolutely furious when he finds out Diana had "negligently" let Scully get shot.

@slippinmickeys‘s (Ao3, Gossamer) 

Diana At the Door

""When the Smoker had recalled her back to the States, she had been confident she would be able to manipulate the situation back on track as she always had, but Fox’s partner had proven to be a surprisingly stubborn obstacle, seeing through Diana’s machinations like an X-ray through soft tissue. Diana had thought the woman had been handled several years before — run through the Project’s standard pump-and-dump operation when she became problematic — lending the Project an influx of fresh DNA while at the same time being eliminated had seemed a tidy solution at the time. When the woman had survived, Diana was surprised but unbothered, knowing the cancer fail-safe would soon resolve the matter. And then the Smoker — supine and (she could only imagine) lovesick — had capitulated to Fox’s weak threats and now needed Diana to come in and clean up his mess. She had no idea what the two men saw in the diminutive little priss, but she was confident that she could at least distract Fox long enough to make him temporarily forget. She had it on good authority that Agent Scully was drawn to authoritative father figures, and Fox Mulder – particularly under the spell of Diana Fowley’s time-tested and humbling cunt – was not the young woman’s type. It would be easy, she thought. It might even be fun.""

Pre-Two Fathers? Diana foully (heh) disregards both Scully's and Mulder's feelings, planning to boldly trap him in her web. She is shocked and appalled to find her rival unrepentant and in loungewear at her ex's.

Prompt Drabble Collection - Chapter 1

""Then why don’t you have a desk?”

It was a purposeful cut, the gloves coming off, and Scully both relished it and was annoyed at its callow nature. If that was how it was going to be, fine . 

She stood up straighter and walked casually around the side of Mulder’s desk and sat down in the chair. While maintaining eye contact with Fowley, she opened the top drawer and pulled out a hot pink nail file and set it to the edge of her finger.""

Post One Son Scully will win the X-Files partnership power struggle Diana wars for. (I love this one so much.)

@softnow's (Ao3) redux iii

""He’s locking the door when he hears the heels and stops breathing. If she’s back, it can’t be that bad. If she’s back, she’s not dying.

“Scu—” He whips his head up and her name dies on his lips. “Diana.”

“Fox.”

“What are you doing here?”

Diana casts around like there might be someone lurking in the shadows, watching. There’s a manila envelope in her hands.""

AU-- Post One Son Mulder realizes Scully's nose has been bleeding, breezing by Diana's amorous attempts to support his partner and find out her results. It's not good.

Becksndot5's Soul in the dark

""What she didn't want, in the eyes of a woman, this woman, was to act weak and helpless. On the other hand, she also didn't want Fowley to see her with all her wounds. "Mulder, how bad ... how bad do I look?" Her voice made it clear that she expected an honest answer.

"The swelling of your eyes is gone, it’s a little black and blue around the edge of your eyes, and otherwise there is only the cut." Although Scully was never overly vain, Mulder knew that Diana had an impact on Scully's behavior. Diana had the power that Scully felt somehow inferior and small in her presence. The reasons were another mystery, which he had to elicit from Scully.

Mulder went back to the door and asked Diana to come inside. Scully welcomed her politely and Diana put the open file before her on the kitchen table. Mulder stood besides Scully.

"Agent Scully, I need your signature once here and here.“ Diana said while tapping with her fingertips on the paper. Without hesitation and before Scully could stiffen in shame, Mulder lovingly Scully took her hand and placed the pen which she already held, as if this gesture was the most normal thing in the world, to the right place.

Mulder's icy gaze met Diana, like a spearhead."" 

Post One Son Scully is kidnapped, tortured, blinded, and handicapped. Mulder is all-on-board to care for and help her recover and to protect her from Diana's cruel pokes.

Enjoy!

[talenlee]

How To Be: Cassandra and Rapunzel from Tangled (In 4e D&D)

In How To Be we’re going to look at a variety of characters from Not D&D and conceptualise how you might go about making a version of that character in the form of D&D that matters on this blog, D&D 4th Edition. Our guidelines are as follows:

This is going to be a brief rundown of ways to make a character that ‘feels’ like the source character

This isn’t meant to be comprehensive or authoritative but as a creative exercise

While not every character can work immediately out of the box, the aim is to make sure they have a character ‘feel’ as soon as possible

The character has to have the ‘feeling’ of the character by at least midway through Heroic

When building characters in 4th Edition it’s worth remembering that there are a lot of different ways to do the same basic thing. This isn’t going to be comprehensive, or even particularly fleshed out, and instead give you some places to start when you want to make something.

Another thing to remember is that 4e characters tend to be more about collected interactions of groups of things – it’s not that you get a build with specific rules about what you have to take, and when, and why, like you’re lockpicking your way through a design in the hopes of getting an overlap eventually. Character building is about packages, not programs, and we’ll talk about some packages and reference them going forwards.

You know the story of Rapunzel? The kid’s story about a girl with long hair in a tower which you can tell as a bedtime story and it takes maybe ten minutes, fifteen if you’re doing a lot with the voices and details and want to make the witch’s end really grisly? Well, yeah, turns out that got a movie back in the day and then that movie got a TV series and that TV series kicks ass, and so for this Smooch Month, I decided to try and make an article about base-level optimising choices for a pair of characters, a battle couple. In this case, one of those Battle Couple members is Rapunzel, the hero of the story Rapunzel, and the other is, uh

Her name’s Cass.

Original art by Nonadraws

And hey, I’m going to talk about some spoilers for a kid’s cartoon you probably didn’t watch but I do like it and I think if you care about spoilers, well you should watch it without me being the way you find out about the third story arc of the TV series and what it means okay byeee.

Alright, what do you know about Rapunzel and Cassandra? They’re Disney Princess style characters so it’s not like you see a lot of comic book measurement stuff going on in their stories. They’re adventure stories, and the characters are as tough and strong and smart and witty as they need to be to get you to an ad break, or, because this was late 2018, probably to the next streaming check-in. Though maybe they have ads on Disney+ now, it wouldn’t surprise me.

The characters are pretty basic, though so it means it’s not that hard to give a rudimentary breakdown of how they present in the story and then how that informs choices about how to build them in the rest of the game.

Rapunzel,

Is a charismatic leader with a huge variety of skills. In the story of Tangled she’s shown developing a huge variety of skills, including engineering, crafting, knot-tying and juggling, which implies mathematical skill.

Extremely sociable and prosocial and operates in a good faith with almost everyone.

Access in some form or another to influential music; she can sing songs that change people’s minds or maybe make a compelling case.

Cass, on the other hand:

Routinely is shown handling weapons and wearing armour

Is represented as being physically fit and uses her physical strength to achieve things

Doesn’t, at first demonstrate any magical powers or prowess

For this exercise, the challenge is not in trying to find a way to represent everything the characters can do but instead to present an example of how two players can construct their characters so they fundamentally work together, while sticking to the framework presented above. It’s also going to try and build a pair of characters that work together expressing the different versions of these characters that you can perceive throughout the story, in a way that fills two complementary roles in a party.

Basically, how do you make team synergy that also leaves other people ways to connect, and can it be done such it looks like the different possible iterations of Cassandra and Rapunzel?

Before the Beginning

First principles, established introduction for Cass and Rapunzel. You have Rapunzel, as she was at the end of the movie Tangled, and her handmaiden Cass. These are characters who are very new to one another and new to their relationship to the world. Rapunzel has not been a princess before, and Cass has been a handmaiden in waiting looking for a princess to take up the mantle.

Cassandra in this time is also sneaking out to fight. She wants to be a warrior, she has aims to be a knight, but her predominant job is to be a handmaiden doing needlecraft and proper courtly management. At this point I would suggest you can represent Cass best with a Rogue, and Rapunzel, without magical powers as a Warlord.

The build I’d pick for Rapunzel is a lazy Warlord – the build that doesn’t actually have to make attacks of its own, and only grants them to other people. The best advantage of this build for Rapunzel is that it avoids her needing a high strength score, and instead focuses on things like her Wisdom and Charisma. While Rapunzel does not commonly wear heavy armour, this kind of build can give up on armour in exchange for better and more free movement.

As a rogue, Cass can emphasise a good basic attack, which is exactly the kind of thing a Warlord wants to have on hand. The Thief build from Heroes of the Fallen Lands starts with a good basic attack, and can do things that emphasise and improve it.

During The Day

The next major iteration of the pair, Cassandra is now openly able to act outside of the Handmaiden duties she has in the castle. She gets involved in fights, but her fighting is in defense and protection of Rapunzel. Rapunzel, on the other hand, now has access to her hair again, which changes a lot about how she acts – now she’s a character with a lot of reach and the means to control people at distance.

For this pairing, which represents the bulk of the narrative of the series, I’d represent Cass with a Fighter of some variety, and Rapunzel now as a Bard.

Rapunzel as a Bard can take the Superior Weapon Proficiency (Whip) and have that represent her hair. Melee bards don’t have to care that much about the power of their melee attacks, but they can do things that trigger off those attacks. An example would be the Skald bard, where you set up an aura around you and trigger buff effects off your basic attacks.

The Fighter gets to wear armour of varying degrees, but can mix up a melee weapon and a bare hand, if you want Cass to feel like a fencer, or you can represent a shield with a reinforced arm guard, and play a much more standard fighter build. The bard can grant attacks, or temporary hit points depending on build choices, and the fighter can capitalise on that.

The Lonely Twilight

In the final season, Cass and Rapunzel are apart, broken up by the revelation that Cass is the real child of Mother Gothel and has had to deal with Rapunzel literally being chosen over her by even her own mother. But in this time, Cass embraces magical power, and gets lithomancy magic, a kind of stone based magic. What it looks like is attacking with spikes and having big chunky stone armour. She still draws a great big sword, and she still fights with that.

At this point, the Cass looks a lot more like something like a Paladin. Her powers are driven by her personality and she’s less mobile. If you take this aesthetic, this look, you’re going to see her raging out and swinging a big sword. There’s a lot more magicality to her area control, and if you want the Warden could do the same thing, similar vibes. The heavy armour pulls me towards Paladin here.

Rapunzel is at this point full blown wizarding with glowing eyes and magical incantations and the hair as a whip is less important. For this end, and because a thing like granting basics is less important, I’d instead look to a Cleric as your compatriot pair. Two different sources of divine powers are pretty cool but also they can have overlap on energy damage types. A cleric who goes for blasting lasers and charisma based powers can benefit from the Radiant Mafia build, and that means these two bring the core of what that needs to any given play group.

Junk Drawer Options

It’s pretty cool how many of the leader types can be stuck onto the different versions of Rapunzel. Bards, Clerics, Warlords, they’re all covered, but don’t neglect the value of the Shaman or Artificer, which both can carry a lot of the feelings of the setting even if Rapunzel herself doesn’t do much with it. Cass is very limited but if you don’t want to play the defender type in the group, she can play a dual-wielding Ranger or Scout, too.

At this point the outline of this document is a thousand words. Presenting specific examples of things that can make builds work together in synergy is pretty challenging. There are things like Agile Opportunist and specific ways to maximise basic attacks. With a really off the wall option you can have Cass doing the leader duty of a Bard while Rapunzel takes up the job of a Wizard or even –

yes, I’m going to mention it

A druid.

Okay, okay, I’ll stop.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!