#Because I have been absent from this fandom for too long

[grabyoursaintsandpray]

[mokulule]

While I fail to focus after my night shift have a peek at another of my brain worms

Untitled, I am still waiting for that moment of divine inspiration. Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)  Fandom: DP x DC 

The only sounds in the Batcave were the bats chittering amongst themselves high above. Bruce rubbed his chin absently as he took in the information displayed on the large screens with narrowed eyes. Something wasn’t adding up. Somebody was lying.

No matter how many times he looked over the information, that was his conclusion. It nagged at him that he didn’t know what, if any, information he could use. He hated being so in the dark. 

A silent notification in the corner of his screen alerted him to a call from the Watchtower. He took it and Superman’s face appeared in a smaller rectangle on the center of the screen. Bruce kept outwardly placid but from behind the cowl nobody would see the way his gaze instantly zeroed in on the massive black eye Superman had acquired, and the general strain around his unhurt eye and mouth. He was worn out. 

“Phantom has been apprehended,” Superman said with a long sigh. It had clearly not been an easy fight. 

“I’ll be there,” Batman said and ended the call. Maybe they’d finally get some real answers. 

He stood and walked towards the zeta tube. Another call came in, this time on the comm in his cowl. 

“Hood,” he greeted.

“Hey, old man. I’m at the location. You were right it’s absolutely crawling with the white suits and their weaponry is not like anything I’ve seen before.”

Bruce felt like a hand squeezed his heart. Hood out of anyone knew his weapons, if he didn’t know them they weren’t on the market. He absolutely hated asking any of his kids to walk into an unknown situation. Unfortunately he didn’t have any other options. 

“Be careful, Hood.”

“Aww, is that worry I detect?”

“Just don’t take unnecessary risks,” Bruce cautioned.

“You wouldn’t have asked me if you didn’t think it was necessary, old man. Don’t worry, I’ll get you your intel.”

Bruce grunted. Jason was right. He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t think it was important. Didn’t mean he had to like it, nor the fact that Red Hood’s criminal reputation made him perfect for breaking into a government building; even if Hood was seen the Justice League kept plausible deniability. 

Everyone knew Red Hood was a wild card. 

“Check in regularly with Oracle.”

He could practically feel the way Jason rolled his eyes at him.

“Not my first rodeo, B.”

With that the connection cut off. Bruce couldn’t help the bad feeling he had about everything. 

He really hated this stage of an investigation. 

Two months ago the US government contacted the Justice League about a problem. Several bases of a government agency named the GIW had been hit by a malicious creature they called Phantom. The attacks had been gaining in severity and frequency and their measures had so far failed to stop it. 

Since then, a member of the Justice League had arrived too late to five such attacks. They’d stood no chance against Phantom, who’d then disappeared, living up to the name.

To their eyes Phantom was outwardly a humanoid, possibly a meta or alien. The GIW called him a ghost from a different dimension.

They had been at a loss of how exactly to contain such a powerful foe, who not only could go toe to toe with their heavy hitters like Superman, but also disappear by means unknown. This time they’d been prepared. They’d had various team configurations ready to go depending on who was available. 

Something that seemed to have paid off, but Bruce did not like that Clark was injured. Because if Clark was injured…

A zeta tube ride later and he met Superman on the Watchtower. Something that hadn’t been apparent on the call was the sling Superman’s left arm was in. Another visible injury added to the swollen eye. 

“Is everyone alright?” He had to ask.

“Nobody’s permanently hurt.” Clark hurried to assure as they started walking towards the interrogation room, but there was a but. Bruce kept his stare steady until Clark tiredly elaborated: “But nobody got out the fight unscathed. John won’t be walking for a while. J’onn is suffering from psychic backlash. Diana has some broken ribs and scrapes and you can see my own wounds. Everyone is tired, it was a long fight.”

Batman’s lips thinned. At least there had been no casualties. 

Almost as if reading his mind. Superman added quietly. 

“We got there while the base was still standing. Phantom made eye contact with me for a moment, before he unleashed this… sonic attack…” His face turned pained, as he looked for words that came halting. “It was a scream, I can’t describe it, it felt- it felt like I was dying. None of us could get close.”

Superman looked away.

“When it was over the base was gone, eradicated, like the others. There was just a large crater. Who knows how many people were still in there.”

Bruce set a hand on his friend’s shoulder. It was never easy to deal with casualties. 

“The one good thing about it was that the scream seemed to drain quite a bit of energy from him.” Clark barked a laugh, short and hysterical. Bruce knew Clark would have rather faced Phantom at full power if it meant more people had lived. 

“And still it was all we could do to subdue him. We barely won.”

They barely won. Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern and Martian Manhunter, and they barely won. The knowledge sat like a heavy ball in Bruce’s chest. 

Now, maybe they could get intel that wasn’t most reluctantly handed over by a government agency, that didn’t even want to reveal what their alphabet soup name was an abbreviation of. “We had to turn off the ‘Ghost Shield’ to get Phantom inside the base, so we at least know it works, even if for some reason it doesn’t protect the GIW bases,” Superman remarked.  

Bruce hnn’ed to show he’d heard. It was one more discrepancy among many.

Batman entered the observation room with Superman at his back. Wonder Woman was there and he quickly took in her unusually disheveled appearance, she looked tired and uncomfortable, shaken (but whole, safe). He nodded in greeting and she gave him a tight smile in return. He turned to the observation window and felt his breath stick in his throat.

Phantom was- 

The glitchy footage they’d managed to get on earlier encounters couldn’t have prepared him. Bruce felt his jaw clench. Phantom looked young. There was still a hint of baby fat stubbornly clinging to his cheeks. He was short and wiry like Tim but maybe a bit younger than Jason, technically an adult, but to Bruce he still looked painfully young. The overall glowing and the slowly seeping green wound at his hairline didn’t take away just how human he looked. 

Bruce looked at Phantom and saw a kid. Worse, supposedly a dead kid, a ghost, if the most basic of their intel was to be believed, which even that he wasn’t entirely sure of.

A weight was heavy on his shoulders. He had to remind himself that he had found evidence of Phantom throughout history and if a ghost was truly what he was, he was most likely a very old, very powerful spirit, for whom age didn’t matter. It would be a mistake to trust the youthful appearance. 

He was chained to the chair both by wide cuffs at his wrists and ankles so he could only move very little. The cuffs were the best they had when it came to meta power suppression cuffs with some added ghost specific sigils courtesy of Zatanna’s research. She would have liked Constantine to look them over too as that sort of thing was more his area of expertise, but he’d been off on one of his extra-dimensional missions since long before this started and they hadn’t been able to contact him. 

The cuffs kept Phantom here in any case and he didn’t look happy about it. His lips were a flat line and the thick black brows were drawn together over narrowed green eyes. His head was held high (stubbornness? Pride?), chin tilted in a way that showed off a bright green-purple line around his throat, which had it been red and on a human would have looked like rope burn-

Bruce looked to Diana and he suddenly understood part of her discomfort.

“He was about to use another sonic attack, I didn’t see any other way.” Her words were quiet, regretful, but she faced his gaze head on. Bruce nodded. She never would have used the lasso like that under normal circumstances. It was incredibly worrying how much it had taken to subdue him. 

For a moment the three of them just stood there in silence, watching Phantom watch the door.

It was finally time for answers. 

Bruce didn’t make any outward sign that he was about to move, but of course Clark caught on even before he’d moved, stepping aside letting Bruce take point. They went into the interrogation room, Diana staying back to observe and be ready with security measures, they didn’t know for sure would even work.

They entered the room and immediately sharp green eyes locked onto him. There was a quick glance towards Superman, but the eyes quickly focused back on Batman. There was a calculating sort of intelligence behind those eyes. 

That was one question immediately answered, but it was one he could have inferred. It was very hard to believe the claim that this “ghost” was non-sentient, when he specifically targeted the bases of a specific government agency and nothing else. Though of course they could have had something that attracted the ghost, but nobody could look at Phantom and think non sentient. 

Now the question was, why?

Bruce sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of the table from Phantom. Clark had a moment’s pause before he joined them. Bruce pulled out a tablet from underneath his cape and laid it carefully out on the table, turning it on. At this point most people in the room with the Batman would have started getting nervous, but evidently not Phantom. He was still just passively defiant, not to mention he hadn’t yet said a word.

“Phantom, is that your preferred manner of address?” Bruce decided to start out neutral. 

There was a glitter of amusement in green eyes and the barest uptick of his lips, but he remained silent. Bruce could do silence. 

The silence stretched between them until Clark broke it.

“Why do you destroy those bases?”

Phantom glanced to Clark and his earnest question, then back to Bruce, barely raising an eyebrow, like as if to say “really, this the best you can do?” Bruce resisted the urge to sigh. Clark was usually a better foil for him at interrogations, but then most people didn’t choose total silence.

Bruce decided to be frank with him.

“We are trying to understand your motivation. That’s all.” He studied Phantom’s face which had settled into a stony glare. “But first I’d just like to know if it’s alright to call you Phantom and what your pronouns are? We have been using he/him based on your appearance but you might have another preference?”

The glare softened a bit and for a moment Bruce actually thought he’d lured a response out of him, but Phantom just looked away. Incidentally drawing attention to the line at his throat. A sudden thought occurred to him.

“Are you so hurt, that you’re unable to speak?”

Phantom slowly looked back at him. He seemed to actually be contemplating giving some sort of answer.

That’s when his comm clicked on barely audible.

“The GIW has been in contact,” Diana informed him quietly over the comms. Phantom stiffened across from him, his gaze narrowing like a cat - so they could add enhanced hearing to his powers. “They are requesting we hand over Phantom.”

Bruce looked straight at Phantom as he spoke, “They have no jurisdiction in space. I presume you declined?”

“Of course.”

Phantom’s face turned unreadable for a moment. His gaze went from him, to Superman and the opaque glass that hid the observation room. Finally he huffed. 

“Phantom, he/him is fine.” His voice had an echoey quality to it. 

It seemed they were finally going somewhere. 

-

They were not going somewhere. 

Even hours later Phantom kept up his silence. They’d held several breaks. Phantom had been offered food and water but had declined nonverbally. 

They were going in circles, trying the same questions again and again. Prolonged silence didn’t help any either. 

If only J’onn was an option, but he was already suffering from psychic backlash from trying to go into Phantom’s mind during the fight. 

So far the only things Bruce could add to the certain facts were that Phantom was sentient, intelligent and didn’t like the GIW to the point that he would commit mass murder to take them down. 

And Bruce would just really like to know why? Because with the kinds of powers he’d shown off he could have easily killed the members of the Justice League sent to apprehend him. He seemed to have no qualms about killing, yet he’d stayed his hands?

Bruce had hoped that meant Phantom considered them at least somewhat neutral in this conflict. But apparently not neutral enough to talk to. 

Clark had tried and Diana had tried. Nothing helped. 

Bruce was considering his options, when the door opened. 

“B, I need to speak with you.” That was Tim, he looked pale. Something had happened. Bruce got up, Clark following. Bruce decidedly ignored the sudden curiosity from Phantom. They closed the door and walked down the hall. When Bruce felt they were far enough from Phantom he stopped.

“Red Robin, report.”

“We’ve lost contact with Hood.”

Bruce’s heart dropped cold into his stomach. No. It couldn’t be. 

“When?”

“Two hours ago is when he last checked in. He’s since missed several check-ins.” Tim’s hands tightened into fists at his sides. “Could be he’s just not in a position to respond, or they have scramblers in the base.”

It was likely, in fact very likely that was the case with how secretive the GIW were being, but two hours were a long time to miss check-ins. Clark’s hand landed on his shoulder which he only now realized how tense was, but no, now was not the time to relax or calm down. He shrugged Clark’s hand off and stalked back down the hall.

The GIW were mum about any details. There was only one person who could tell them what Jason was facing in that building.

He burst into the interrogation room and slammed his hands on the table. That got Phantom’s attention his eyes widening before narrowing and his lips splitting in a snarl that showed off fangs, but Bruce sneered right back.

“We lost contact with an agent sent to infiltrate a GIW-base, you will tell me what you know about them, or so help me I will make you wish you stayed in that dimension you came from.”

“Batman, please, maybe you should step out-“ Clark began good hand hovering shy of Bruce, but he was interrupted by the bark of laughter coming from Phantom.

And then he laughed and laughed and laughed. 

Bruce punched him. Clark pulled him back. 

Phantom slowly turned his head back to look at them, working his jaw. 

“There we have it after all. Your true colors: attacking a chained up captive.” He wiggled his fingers drawing attention to the wide thick cuffs dwarfing his wrists. His eyes held only cold judgment. “But don’t worry, Batman, your agent has nothing to fear from the GIW unless they are dead.”

Bruce couldn’t help the flinch and he felt Clark do the same. Something in the very air stilled then, making it hard to breathe. 

“You,” Phantom began standing up, right out of the restraints as if they weren’t there, “are going to explain to me what that reaction means…“ He carefully put his hands down on the table and leaned forward in a way that made it very apparent he was holding himself back. He glared holes into Bruce’s skull with blazing green eyes. “Unless you want your agent back in pieces.”

-

Psssst. this is actually the beginning of the fic where this is from (CW: relatively graphic aftermath of vivisection)

So basically Phantom is public enemy number one, or at least top of the US government and GIW's shit list XD Huh, "Wanted: Dead or Alive", might actually be a pretty fun title, what do you guys think?

[cdragons]

Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter Two

Previous Chapter

Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Jace is delulu, tiny!Aemond is kind of a jerk in this one, Dark Themes, shit is going down, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also, translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also, I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠

Author's Note: I'M BACKKKKKK! I am so sorry for leaving this story alone for so long! I have been getting into other fandoms and making new stories because of those fandoms. But the two new trailers for HOTD season 2 brought me back! I swear I will be better at updating this story! But on the bright side, I made this chapter over 5k word length! I own only the plot and OCs of this story, please do not repost without my permission.

Despite living in the Red Keep for nearly your entire life, you still felt hopelessly lost as you walked down the corridors beside the prince. Like you and Aemond, the sight of you walking side by side with the heir of the Iron Throne’s firstborn son made for an unusual sight for the courtiers of the Royal Family. But this was not the case with the serving staff, which comprised smallfolk. Your mother was a favored companion by Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra. Despite coming from such humble beginnings, Doreah of Essos became a highly regarded member of the serving staff belonging to the House of Targaryen. All the maids respected your mother, while most stewards who served under knights idolized your father. And as your mother’s daughter, they were very used to the vision of one of their humble sewists’ children playing with the Royal children.

As a result, no one so much as batted an eye when they saw you walking down the halls directly beside Prince Jacaerys. It would have made a much more unusual sight if your presence was absent by either his or his uncle’s side. The older staff bowed their heads in respect to the prince while also flashing a small but kind smile at you. The younger serving girls were still too new in the ways of the court and beamed with broad smiles at the sight of you before acknowledging Jace. You grinned back as you inwardly beamed at the knowledge that Head Septa Marlow was with you.

She would have scolded those girls fiercely if she had caught them greeting an apprentice seamstress before the prince.

You turned your head to glance at your childhood friend, who happened to be second in line for the Iron Throne, as you both made your way to his mother’s chambers. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in the troubled expression on his face. Just a few minutes ago, he was practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you left Aemond alone in the Godswood. But now it felt as if he was a thousand miles away from you despite being so close. Having been by his side since his birth, you always felt a sense of protectiveness toward the young prince. No matter his station, you were a month past your third name-day when he was brought into this world. It was natural that you were perspective to his shifting moods.

“Jace?” you softly called out to him. You were relieved to have brought him out of his thoughts. “Are you alright?”

Jacaerys stopped in the middle of the stone corridor. Staring at you with those large brown eyes, he looked much older than his actual age. When someone as happy and bright as Jace became somber, it was always a reason to worry. Was Rhaenyra all right? Had he been listening to those awful rumors of his true birth?

“Ashi’,” he began, “what were you and Aemond discussing in the Godswoods’ Heart Tree?”

Ah, so that’s what this is about.

You inwardly grimaced as you realized how foolish you were to worry. With Aemond and Jace, it was always something one did to the other. And almost every time, it was up to you to stop their squabbling by being forced into the middle. You were not as blind as everyone in the castle liked to believe you were. You knew that both boys had an unhealthy attachment to you for whatever reason they conjured in their minds. Reasons that were only encouraged by their mothers.

You were still cross when they interrupted you and your mother’s reunion with your father. The matter was really very stupid. Jace had made fun of Aemond for not having a dragon during their family supper with the King. However, Jace only did so because Aemond and Aegon were snickering to themselves about how fat Princess Rhaenyra had grown due to her third pregnancy.

It didn’t make any difference to you, in all honesty. All you remembered from that time was that your time with your beloved father was forcibly cut short. To make matters worse, the two boys’ outbursts startled your mother, and the stress was so terrible that it nearly caused her to faint.

As a result, you decided not to speak to either boy for nearly two weeks. It had grown to the point where Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra practically begged you to forgive their sons—but even a royal command would not budge you. It did not matter how many blueberry tarts or honey cakes they gave for your forgiveness. You made it very clear that you would resolve never to speak to either boy unless they sincerely apologized to your mother for the awful fright they gave her. You finally resumed your friendship with them after your mother asked you herself to forgive them after Aemond gifted her a lovely bouquet of blue and purple hyacinths, and Jace gifted her a basket full of her favorite honey lemon cakes.

“Jace,” you groaned, “you cannot be serious.”

“Ashi’, you’ve been spending so much time with him lately. I feel like I don’t ever get to see you anymore.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked away from him as you sped up your pace to reach their destination. You only made it a few meters from where you were earlier before Jacaerys caught up to you and firmly grasped your wrist to keep you in place.

“I’m serious, Ashi’!” he insisted. “Unless it’s for fittings or when the Maester seeks your help teaching us High Valyrian, I rarely ever see you anymore!” His eyes had a wet sheen in the light, and his lip quivered slightly. “I miss you. Luke misses you. And so does Mother and Father!”

If the pitiful sight was enough to fill you with guilt, his next question nearly broke your heart.

“Do you – do you still consider me your friend?”

“Oh, Jace-” you pulled your younger friend into your arms “- of course I do. I’ve been so busy with my duties and my mother’s health. She and Princess Rhaenys have been so concerned over Lady Laena’s pregnancy and are trying to convince Prince Daemon to travel to Driftmark for the baby’s arrival.”

Jacaerys wrapped his arms around you, eager to feel your warmth. If the gods were kind, time would stop, and he and you would stay like this forever. But he became sad at the mention of his Aunt Laena. He had heard his father recount hundreds of stories of their time together at Driftmark in their youth. Jace knew his father missed his sister terribly, and he was sure she missed him the same.

You noticed your friend’s change in behavior. You looked at him with concerned eyes, and his heart began to race at your care for him.

“Oh, Jace,” you whispered, “have I upset you somehow? I did not mean to!”

Jace frantically shook his head. “No, Ashi’! I just wondered…do you think I’ll ever meet my Aunt Laena?” he softly asked. “Do you think she’ll like me? Can you tell me more about my cousins?”

You rolled your eyes at his request. He had yet to do so despite your advice for Jace to send a raven or two to his cousins. You hadn’t seen the twins for many years, but the three of you wrote to each other so often that it felt like you would recognize them by how they spoke alone.

“I’m sure she and your cousins will adore you, Jace. Baela is excited about her new sibling. She says she’s close to riding Moondancer! Once she gets big enough, she hopes to ride her with Rhaena!”

Jace wondered how you’d react if you knew he didn’t write to his cousins because he was scared they wouldn’t like him. To be honest, he didn’t really care about them at all. He only cared about the way you smiled at him, and only him, when he asked.

“Mother!”

Still seated at her dark-stained ebony-wood desk, Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen scribbled away with her black swan’s feather quill, nearly hidden behind stacks of dusty tomes and piles of scrolls from across the Seven Kingdoms and, despite being heavy with child, remained to be one of the most exquisite beauties across the realm. Hearing her eldest son’s voice, she looked up from her papers and smiled at the two children standing in her chambers' doorway.

“Jace! You made it and brought our little Lady Ashirri with you.”

You looked down at your feet as your cheeks slightly pinkened at the attention brought to you. Princess Rhaenyra was one of your mother’s closest friends and one of the few belonging to the noble houses that approved of your father’s rise in status. But his title was only in name, and so many in the keep look down on him with ill-hidden disdain. And as a result, many in the keep looked down on you with the same contempt and disgust.

The image of Lord Otto Hightower’s cold and judging eyes gazing down at you with arrogance came to mind before you could block it out.

You lifted your skirts and bowed in a deep curtsy in respect for Princess Rhaenyra. “Yes, my princess. Prince Jacaerys told me that you required my assistance with something?”

Princess Rhaenyra warmly smiled and laughed. “Yes. My husband seems at a crossroads in deciding which fabrics best suit his sister. Although, as you can see, he is being unnecessarily picky about it all.”

Her husband, Prince Consort Laenor of House Velaryon, stood beside your mother with his arms spread wide apart. On each arm were textiles of luxurious materials and superb stitching patterns. His close friend and confidant, Ser Qarl Correy, stood close behind him. The crown princess spoke truthfully as the entire room was filled with dozens of fabric bolts, from brilliant orange-marigold Dornish satin to iridescent light-azure Yi Tish silk. Your eyes were filled with excitement and wonder at the magnificent sight. You raced to touch the imported textiles.

“Is this silk truly from Yi Ti?” you softly whispered while carefully stroking the surface with one finger. “It looks almost too pretty to be real. This color would beautifully complement Lady Laena’s complexion and silver curls.”

Your mother and Prince Laenor smiled in agreement. It was softer than anything you’ve ever touched. Yi Tish silk was famous for its textile quality. One bolt was worth double your mother’s monthly wage at the Red Keep. The color alone was mastery at its finest. You knew from personal experience that blue was an incredibly tricky dye to handle. Although it was a primary color, it was rare in nature. You had to devote hours, if not days, to find the correct materials to yield the desired tone and shade properly. But that work is useless if the dye ends up damaging the fabric. Dark blue was one matter – it was still stunning, and many nobles would pay a hefty amount of coin for it. But to own such beauty, you wouldn’t dare imagine the price for a few yards, let alone an entire bolt.

“Fine eye as always, little lady,” Laenor jovially laughed. “Yes, I’m sure at least one of these fabrics will make a suitable dress for my sister before she gifts me another niece or nephew. I’m afraid your mother is very cross with me at the moment. Any delay in choosing the fabric will result in her being unable to finish the dress before the baby is born.”

“Lady Laena will need it to be loose and not so tight around her waist,” you spoke matter-of-factly. “Muña says that most pregnant women have rashes and inflammations after giving birth, so the dress must be made of a fabric that won’t cause irritation. Let’s see…excuse me for a moment?”

 You took out the small leather-bound journal Kepa gave you as a gift from one of his many voyages with Lord Corlys that you kept in your dress pocket, along with a small stick of charcoal. You drew out the image as quickly as possible whenever inspiration struck, regardless of the time or place. It was a habit that could lead to horrible misunderstandings, but being scolded and berated mattered little to you if it meant you could train yourself to be half as talented a seamstress as your mother.

After flipping past all your previous ideas, you finally spotted a blank page. Racing to your mother’s side for help, you excitedly shoved the journal in her face.

You thought aloud and drew out the concept simultaneously. “I think it should be blue. Even if Lady Laena married Prince Daemon, she is still a Velaryon by birth! Maybe if we chose a material that looks like water, it would make her feel closer to Driftmark and Lady Rhaenys!”

Doreah beamed from ear to ear as she crouched down and took you in a tight embrace. It filled her with such joy to know her daughter had developed such a tender and compassionate heart. You were a deeply empathetic girl who always considered the needs of others before your own. Her little pearl had a heart of gold that shone through the darkest storms. She planted a loud kiss on your cheek before letting you go.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my little pearl,” her eyes twinkled as she cupped your cheeks. “I have just the fabric in mind for it.”

Lady Doreah Pyke pulled out a large bolt of shimmering azure blue silk velvet. The rippled pattern and texture matched the transcendent and melancholy shores that surrounded High Tide. You gasped in delight at the sight of it. It was exactly the color you imagined! You gently caressed the hand-pleated panels, expecting it to feel crinkly and cheap despite its luster. But the fabric sheen and its soft, velvety texture made you want to wrap yourself with it like a warm blanket.

Your mother thoughtfully inspected the fabric. “Yes, this will be perfect. However, I think instead of a dress, it may be better to be used as a cloak. If the result is as beautiful as my little pearl envisions it to be, it would be a shame to be a dress for one lady. If it is a cloak, it can be passed down from mother to daughter.”

“An heirloom cloak…” you murmured in excitement. Your mother was a genius. “It sounds so romantic…the waves should be hand-painted and glass beads strung and stitched into the fabric. Oh, Lady Laena will look like a sea goddess! Would she like it enough to pass it down to Ladies Baela or Rhaena?”

Doreah chuckled at your delight and booped your nose. “She will love it, my darling – especially because you will be helping me make it.”

“A wonderful idea!” exclaimed Laenor. “Who better than our lovely Doreah and her little pearl to complete the task?”

“Really?” you gasped. To work beside your mother on such a prestigious project…was like a dream too good to be true. “Mother, do you…do you truly think I am ready?”

Jace jumped to his friend’s side to hug her. “Ashirri! This is wonderful! You and Lady Pyke will make the most beautiful cloak in the Seven Kingdoms - I know it!”

Rhaenyra and Laenor glanced knowingly at their son’s support for his dearest childhood companion. Everyone in the Red Keep knew of Jacaerys Velaryon's infatuation with Ashirri Pyke. If only the gods had allowed their stations to be so different. It seemed cruel to let two young souls meet and grow beside one another without the hope or possibility of love being borne.

You beamed at Jace with a brilliant smile that shone with so much radiance that looking at you felt nothing less than sin. You took his hand in yours as you squeezed his hand in silent thanks and appreciation for his words. In the young prince’s eyes, you were more heavenly than the Maiden herself. He hopes to be seen as strong as the Warrior in yours one day.

“Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros,” you said in your mother’s native tongue, softly stroking your thumb on his skin as a rosy hue bloomed on Jace’s cheeks. “Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī!”

You were about to leave before stopping and tracing back your steps to bow to Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Laenor quickly. Your cheeks were bright red from embarrassment from forgetting such basic etiquette.

“My princess, my prince, forgive me for not remembering to thank you for granting me this opportunity and forgetting to leave before you dismissed me. I was too caught up in my excitement. But, I swear that I will not let you down.”

The adults in the room shared amused expressions at your excitement. Ashirri Pyke’s transparent honesty and sweet nature were so refreshing to not only the Targaryen Princess and her prince consort husband but also the entire Royal Family. She was the perfect combination of her parents’ personalities. From Hotho, you adopted your father’s unwavering honesty and sense of justice. From Doreah, you were your mother’s copy in sweetness and purity. You were a highborn noble in all but birth and title.

Rhaenyra waved off your apology and nodded. “No need for apologies, little pearl. Run along. There is work that needs to be done, and your mother and I still have things to discuss between old friends.”

You pouted to hear that your mother would not be joining you. After all, this was a very important job, and you had hoped this would provide an opportunity to learn more of your mother’s secrets in her trade. But who were you to refuse a princess’ orders? You bowed once more before waving goodbye to Jace and everyone in the room before racing to your chambers. The disappointment you felt moments before was washed away by the jittering and buzz of your creativity rushing through your mind.

The waves would have to be hand-painted – that goes without saying. But should you paint silver instead of ivory for the sea foam? And did you have a steady enough hand to replicate each pattern perfectly? You were going to need a template to trace it.

You were going to need dozens if not hundreds, of beads ranging from violet to turquoise to teal. Were there any artisans in Kings Landing that could make such a large quantity? Were there any skilled enough to ensure the glass and crystals would yield such clarity and durability? You may need to ask Kepa if he made any glassmaker friends from Essos or the Free Cities.

Could you dip into your personal collection of sea crystals and pearls? Mother would be cross with you, but it would look so splendid against the fabric!

While racing down the many halls and past the flurry of chambermaids and squires, you came across Aemond. His trademark frown on his freckled face quickly turned to a kind smile.

“Ashirri! Mother wants to–”

But you did not have time to stop and quickly ran past him. You interrupted him with an apology.

“Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie import! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon!”

Aemond owlishly blinked before realizing you had spoken to him in High Valyrian. He took a few moments to mentally translate what you said before calling out your name and asking you to explain.

“Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?”

But when he turned, you were nowhere in sight, and he was left alone in the middle of the stone corridor. His shoulders slumped in deep disappointment at seeing you running away from him. But he supposed that such a slight could be forgiven since you were his loveliest and dearest friend. On the plus side, he was gifted with the sight of how the sunshine rays peering through the windows darted your glossy locks and wrapped you in a warm halo that brought out even more of your natural charm and prettiness.

As soon as you reached your room, you shut the door and grabbed every colored charcoal stick you’ve been gifted since you began learning your letters. Grabbing your big sketchbook, you immediately began jotting down your vision. By the time your mother joined you, your entire floor was covered with pages filled with a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, violets, and silver. Doreah was ecstatic of the display of your budding talent and took you in her arms for a tight hug.

The next few weeks were the most thrilling of your young life. You would spend hours on end with your mother, going over and debating which colors would match the tone of the cloak. Your mother found out about your idea to incorporate your pearls in the stitching, and she gave you a lecture that put all her past scoldings to shame. Eventually, you relented. In truth, you were a tad reluctant to part with your pearls. Each pearl was a gift from your beloved kepa for each country he visited. He said it was his way of giving you a tiny part of the world to his little pearl.

Because you were so busy trimming and stitching, you barely had time to read with Aemond under the Heart Tree in the Godswood or watch Jace practice his sword fighting with Ser Harwin Strong. You and your mother could only be removed from the cloak when either Queen Alicent or Princess Rhaenyra ordered your presence. They often expressed their woes at your decreased presence in court. As a result, your mother would take small breaks to share tea with Queen Alicent to discuss your progress as a seamstress, or she would get called by Princess Rhaenyra to her chambers so that they may speak their most private thoughts and troubles in High Valyrian.

You would often escape their orders by spending time with Princess Helaena. She would sneak into your workspace to bring her own embroidery and ask for your guidance with the more intricate patterns. While most of the court found the second princess a bit…odd – you took to her presence like green to pink. The two of you greatly differed in personality, but that made your friendship with her all the more special. You always made sure to treat her with kind words and common courtesy.

The most rude you had been to her was when she showed you a massive spider in her hands, and you loudly shrieked before crawling under your bed as a reflex. It took a few minutes before you could rejoin her. When she asked if you liked to hold Gerald the Spider, you took your father’s thickest riding gloves before you went near the beast.

You only held Gerald in your palms a few moments before you cried and begged Helaena to remove him from your person. But despite the terrors you got from Gerald the Spider that night, it was worth it if Helaena could smile as happily as she had when you agreed. She was so pleased that she didn’t correct you when you called her by the nickname you made for her, ‘Hel.’ In fact, you were almost certain that the nickname made her happier than you holding the spider.

But despite the peace these past few weeks have brought you and your family, such joy was not granted to the rest of your friends. Trouble was brewing in the Red Keep for House Targaryen – a fact you were unaware of until much later. You were returning from the rookery after being notified of receiving a letter from Baela. She was so excited about the arrival of her new sibling. You were reading the letter until you heard soft cries in the library. Searching for the source, you were shocked to find Aemond crying in a secluded section of the Royal Library. Distressed at your friend’s tears, you immediately knelt and hugged him close to you.

Clinging to your arms like you were his anchor, you could only make out the words: ‘pig’ and ‘dread.’ When you voiced your confusion, Aemond explained once more.

“They gave me a pig!” he barked, wiping away the angry tears from his violet eyes. “They said they found a dragon for me, and it was a pig! The ‘Pink Dread’ they called it!”

You lowered his head to the crook of your shoulder. “Aemond, who’s ‘they’?” you softly asked.

“Aegon! Who else?” he exclaimed. Your simple linen frock muffled his yells. “My sister’s bastards were there, too!”

Your blood chilled. He couldn’t mean…Jace wasn’t…

“Aemond, you can’t say such things,” you warned. “It’s considered treason by your father’s laws.”

But Aemond wasn’t listening. “I hate those bastards. They shouldn’t carry the Targaryen name. Their last name should be ‘Waters.’ It’s the name that bastards born in the Crownlands carry. Northern bastards are called ‘Snow,’ ‘Sand’ for Dorne, ‘Flowers’ for the Reach–”

“‘Pyke’ for the Iron Islands,” you snapped and let him go. “Am I a bastard, Aemond? Am I what you hate? Do you hate my father?”

Aemond was shocked at your venomous tone. When he realized what he had done, he quickly tried to make amends.

He shook his head. “My pearl…no, no, no,” he said. “You aren’t a bastard. I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about–”

You clenched your fists and stood on your feet. “I know who you were talking about! That does not make it right!”

Aemond was getting angry. Why weren’t you taking his side? Had his whore of a sister already poisoned you against him? Had Jace already dirtied you with his filthy, bastard blood? He stood up and stared you down with fury in those beautiful violet eyes that you once so adored. But all you saw was his grandfather.

“Your father is a bastard,” he stated matter-of-factly. “He was a bastard from the Iron Islands that Lord Greyjoy didn’t want! He wasn’t worthy of his noble father’s house name, so he is named ‘Pyke’!”

You shook your head. “There is more to family than names and blood. I am neither a Targaryen nor a Velaryon. I do not carry a speck of your noble house’s blood, but I consider you and Jace my dearest friends! To me, you are my brothers! You and him are my family because I love you, not because of blood! Does that count for anything?”

“I never thought of you as a sister,” he spat out. “Not once did I consider you family.”

Devastation overwhelms your broken heart as tears flood your and Aemond’s eyes. He reaches out to hold your hand, but you step back. Once more, he tries to keep you closer to him, but you turn around and run to the door. When you reach it, he calls out your name and begs you to let him explain. Once more, you turn to face him to see he has not moved an inch. You feel so small and insignificant underneath the massive stone framework, but you summoned the sea of hurt and rage crashing inside your heart.

“I used to wonder how a horrible and mean-spirited man like Otto Hightower could be the grandsire of such a sweet boy,” your voice trembled, but you continued to steel yourself. “I thought…you were smart enough not to listen to such horrible things. I thought you were my friend. But I was wrong. I was so horribly wrong. What your brother, Jace, and Luke had done to you was cruel and unfair. But Aemond…what you had become…I-I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

With that being the final word, you raced to your mother’s chambers. You cried into her skirts and told her what happened – of the Pink Dread, Aemond’s cruel transformation, and the ruin of your friendship with him. You sobbed out your wish to leave the Red Keep and never return.

Doreah Pyke immediately thought of what Princess Rhaenyra had informed her in the afternoon. ‘Nyra told her that she would be moving her family to Dragonstone. Each day since her failed attempt to match Jace with Helaena, the Red Keep feels less safe and more hostile to her and her children. Since Harwin assaulted Ser Cole, tensions between the princess and the queen have reached an all-time high.

“Come with me,” her princess begged Doreah. “Come with my family to Dragonstone.”

“Oh, ‘Nyra,” whispered Doreah, “I don’t know. Dragonstone is so far from King’s Landing. And Ali would never–”

“Alicent is becoming more like her father each day,” Rhaenyra interjected. “She wants to put her son on my father’s throne – both she and her father are conspiring against me.”

Rhaenyra clasped Doreah’s hands in her own. “I know you want to believe she is the same girl from our youth. But Otto Hightower has sunk his poisoned claws in her and will stop at nothing to crown Aegon when my father passes. I need people I can trust by my side. People like you, my sweet Dory, and your husband.”

“…But Ashirri, my pearl,” sighed Doreah. “She will be so devastated. She grew up running in these halls, playing in the Godswoods, exploring this castle’s corners and shadows. This is her home.”

“Your daughter will flourish wherever she goes,” insists Rhaenyra. “She will never be alone – not with Jace, Luke, and Joffery by her side. And forgive me for what I am about to say, my friend, but…King’s Landing no longer agrees with you as it used to.”

Doreah sighed and gazed out the window with slumped shoulders. What her princess said was true but hard to hear. As she grew older, she found the air and noise outside the Red Keep more sour and rancid. It made her miss the clean and fresh sea breeze in Essos. Rhaenyra was not the only one who had noticed Doreah’s melancholy. Hotho, her beloved Iron Knight, has remained in King’s Landing after learning of her despondence. Her husband implores her to care more for her health – if not for herself, but their daughter.

Doreah waved off their concerns, but perhaps…they had a point. Stroking your hair to calm you down, your mother asked if you would be open to the possibility of moving to Dragonstone. She reassured you that she and your father would be there with you and that you would still be around Jace, Luke, and Joffery if you ever felt lonely.

You agreed before she finished and immediately started packing. By the end of the month, you had not spoken another word to Aemond and left with Princess Rhaenyra and her family to Dragonstone. You did not look back. You wanted to leave King’s Landing and Aemond as soon as possible. You wanted to leave this wretched castle and have peace once more.

While others stared at the obsidian castle with trepidation, you felt hope. Unpacking your things from your trunk and knapsack, you were determined to leave behind all the political headaches and focus solely on stitching with your mother and sailing with your father.

If only life could be that simple.

Translations:

Muña - mother

Kepa - father

Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros…Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī – “Thank you, dear friend…Mother, we must get to work at once! I will bet going first!”

Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie importance! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon! – “I am sorry, Aemond. But my mother and Prince Laenor gave me something of great importance! I have to get to work right away!”

Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?” – “Wait! What do you mean?”

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[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Wednesday my lovely readers. :) AH the post breakup ep. This one almost hurts more. It's most apt ep name of the entire season. ‘Crushed.’ Boy does this name hold up to what goes down in this episode. As much as it sucks what goes down with Blair. She was damn good at her job and this ep proves that. Lots of Tim analysis in this one as you all know is my jam. Eric and Melissa continue to crush us in this one. Phew. Let us begin.

6x07 Crushed

We start out strong with the soul crushing. Lucy’s necklace and DOD ring are noticeably absent. They know the fandom well to take away these objects. Of course we were going to notice them being gone. Hurts my heart to see it. Makes sense but doesn’t make it ache less. Our poor collective shipper heart. Granted the ring was her's long before Tim…BUT we all know what it represents. Her life being saved. Throwing it out in the hopes he would find it and save her. Represents him digging his bare hands into the earth to retrieve her from it. *sniffle* I’m fine….

Her necklace being gone is just a stark reminder of where we are with them. I hate it. The opening sequence is a gut punch to our feels. To Lucy’s too. Tamara is moving out. This also hurts to watch. The end of an era. Lucy is grasping at straws asking if she needs more time before she goes? Tamara asks if she needs her to stay? With the breakup and all? Lucy instantly say no. Even if she wanted to she'd never ask that of her. But it’s clearly upsetting Lucy watching her whole world being dismantled.

She went from having the love of her life with her daily, and Tamara living there, to neither of those things within a week. She literally blinked and her two pillars of support were gone. I adore her making dinner reservations for her though. Wanting to celebrate despite her current sadness. Tamara asks if Tim really got kicked out of Metro? Lucy immediately saddens and morosely replies ‘Yeah.’ Tamara being her protective self in her reply. I mean she isn’t wrong…But it brings Lucy zero comfort and it’s written all over her face. *sigh*

We go from one heartbreaking scene to another. Once again the punches not being pulled in the last 3 eps. I feel emotionally winded. For only having 10 eps they sure did pack them full of it. Which I was impressed with. We see Tim disassembling his Metro office. Hurts me to see it. Official time of death for Metro Tim is now. You all know how much I loved him in this position. I really hate this. Was more than him being fine af in that outfit. Was years of hard work flushed down the toilet *snaps fingers* Just like that. Really paints the picture of his trajectory downward after Ray.

I hate this on a personal level for him. The breakup is excruciating but adding this in is... It's salt into an already raging wound. Worst part is we watch him being stoic with Wade. Trying to pull all the company lines. Whatever will get him back on duty and Grey out of his hair. Luckily Wade isn’t so easily duped. He knows this man well. Been his superiors for years. Can see the grunt mentality Tim is displaying. Knowing how unhealthy it is. Grey lets him know Dr. London will be shadowing him. Tim is naturally upset about this.

This wasn't the work he meant lol Knowing exactly why this is happening. Wade doesn’t sugar coat it when Tim pushes back. Nor should he. Lists off the reasons he questions Tim's judgment right now. The reckless behavior that had him bounced out of Metro and back to patrol. Secondly breaking up with Lucy. Tim forgets this man watched over the years how Tim blossomed around her. Even more so when they got together. To toss that away is just as reckless as his behavior that lost him Metro. Tim is in a free fall atm. Grey is just trying to soften the landing when he comes back to Earth.

Tim being a lying liar who lies. Says him breaking up with Lucy had nothing to do with Ray. Oh my love you don’t really believe that do you? Because it has EVERYTHING to do with it. Was the catalyst to breaking all our hearts. It's clearly a tactic to get out of his ride along with Blair. The man as we know runs from and buries his feelings. Only person to ever get him to open up he’s shoved away at this point. Phew. This somehow hurts more the second to watch and dissect.

Wade stands his ground about the ride along. Saying if he wants to even begin to earn his trust back. It starts here. Otherwise he’s going to get mandated therapy. Which honestly I would’ve hated for him. Because therapy’s something you need to come to on your own. Not have it thrust upon you. So I’m glad Grey started out with this observation first. The man knows what he’s doing. Tim gives into his order of taking her with. Little does he know he’s going to end up doing both.

But that’s the beauty of this episode tbh. Once that is settled Wade slyly mentions he’s taking Lucy out. Tim being salty says for ‘Evaluating her too?’ I love Grey’s slick smile replying he’s just observing. Like I said earlier. The man knows what he’s doing. He’s also worried about them both. He knows how serious their relationship was. Probably thought their next step was marriage. So for it to be over he’s gotta do damage control. He’s the MVP of this ep.

This scene with Smitty still makes me blood BOIL. Months later and it still has me incensed with him. With that jackass too who was betting Tim cheated. How very fucking dare you nobody officer. If you knew Tim at all you’d know he would NEVER. Not ever. Neither of them would. It’s so degrading for both Tim and Lucy.

Also her and Aaron? Excuse me while I go vomit. I love how she dismantles Smitty. Straight up kills him. The shame on his face is something he deserves and more. This one of the many reasons people knowing was the worst. Because cops or not this was gonna feed the rumor mill. People gossip no matter the profession. Lucy telling him how wildly inappropriate this is. Honestly she should’ve reported his ass.

I would’ve. I'm crazy protective of them both. So I hated this scene for them. And for Lucy out of the two of them to find it ugh….Smitty promises he’ll shut it down right away. Damn right you will mofo….That scene still gets under my skin more than I would like. We were all in mourning as a fandom. So this scene lit my Italian rage up. Hated rewatching it. Made me sick to think of them gossiping about them. Still hate this whole thing. Doesn’t get easier with time.

The pain train continues forward with this next scene. The LAST thing Lucy needed in this moment was to bump into Tim. Especially coming off the heels of scolding Smitty. We see her rubbing her tattoo like no tomorrow. Trying to calm her raging emotions. She doesn’t even get a second to breathe, before running into the cause of her deep hurt.

Gotta commend Melissa and Eric for this awkward encounter. Lucy has zero time for this. Can’t even process what just happened with Smitty let alone this. Doesn’t stay in that corridor long. Poor Lucy almost stumbles over herself to get away from Tim. Shaking her head as he calls out for her. Rip my damn heart out some more why don't you writers? Good lord. Killing me softy. 5 minutes in and I’m a damn mess. Also what kills me in this scene how Tim lights up when he sees her.

Ugh you can’t do that after what you did Timothy. You stole her voice and her choice in that breakup. You can’t be surprised she doesn’t want to see you. You destroyed her in that parking lot. Decimated her loving spirit when you took off. Eric once again killing me with his expressions. His reaction after she all but dashes from him breaks my heart. This was self inflicted but hurts to watch none the less. To see them reduced to this awkward interaction is devastating.

I will say I adore Blair for coming right at Tim from the jump. Doesn’t wasn’t any damn time calling him on his crap. His person isn’t there to do it. So she is the next best thing. Well other the Angela. But he needed to hear this stuff from a professional. My sister can tell me something and it doesn’t resonate. My therapist does and it clicks. Idk why. Just does. Tim NEEDED this ride along just didn’t know it yet.

Doesn’t take her long to call Tim out for his decision to use Aaron as a buffer. Is reading him like a book she’s known for years. Saying he’s doing so cause he’s exhibiting classic avoidance attachment style. (Totally is...) Tim having not been in therapy is confused at her reply. She continues to depict him further. Explaining he prefers surface level over deep intimacy. Which is the case with everyone but Lucy…

She continues on to say it’s a defense mechanism. One that is developed due to an overly strict or domineering parent. Usually a father. Tim getting nervous already goes on the defensive. Like he always does when someone has him dead to rights. Did it to Lucy and Angela. This therapist is no different. Stating he isn’t a fan of this and there is going to be no over sharing. Ok love….

I do adore Grey for making sure Lucy is taken care of. We all know our girl isn’t going to take care of herself. Her and Tim are scary alike in this way. They’d rather take care of others than do any form of self care. So Wade is doing it for her which I love. He didn’t pick Tim he picked HER. He gave Tim what he needed with the therapist. Also we don’t get enough Lucy and Wade so I was all about this.

We know he’s worried because she’s taken hit after hit this year. Tim being the biggest blow of all. These other things were horrible but she had him. Her person. Her pillar. Now that’s gone and she’s losing Tamara to boot. She needed this ride along as much as Tim needed his. To say this season has been tough on her would be the understatement of the century. I’m hurting for her so much. Her entire world was ripped out from underneath her.

I think Grey can tell it’s pent up inside her. The constant ‘I’m ok and I’m fine.’ Are really cries for help. The awkwardness continues when they run into Tim getting ready for the day. Lucy extends the awkwardness inviting everyone EXCEPT Tim to Tamara’s farewell dinner. Well and Dr. London heh Who is watching this entire exchange go down. This shot from his cam feeling very intentional as he watches her invite everyone but him. A little shot at his soul watching this happen. He watches her depart sadly some definite longing in it. Oh Timothy you did this to yourself my love. Grey patting his arm as he follows Lucy out.

Lucy and Grey’s first call strikes a personal chord. Far too close to what she and Tim just went through. They show up to a couple fighting. The girl is losing her mind on him. Little stabs to the heart what this woman is upset about. Saying how she thought they were happy. How she thought he was the one. Then it just ended. How it doesn’t make sense. Ooof. My heart hurts.

I hate how relevant this call is for Lucy. Crushed is the theme through out this one. Apropos ep name if we’ve ever had one. Lucy then gets paranoid because she is feeling exposed in this moment. Feeling things she’s been suppressing gurgling up. Asking Grey if he set this up? That Tim just bailed on her. That their first call was about a woman being ghosted. I adore his reply. It’s Top Notch Wade Grey goodness.

Puts her in her place right away with that notion. But it’s very telling to him in this moment how much she needs this shift with him. The amount she has pent up is immense. The fact that she reacted the way she just did proves that. Her sensitivity level is sky high atm. Lucy’s reply when they get back in the car is hilarious though. Much needed levity in a tense moment LOL ‘It’s my bad.’ Hahahaha oh Lucy Chen never change. We love you so.

Dr. London hits the ground running with the case they have. Aaron bringing up it’s always the boyfriend right? When it comes to missing cases like this? It’s here Blair inserts her like about breakups. It’s SPOT ON. Say what you will about her as a person but she was damn good at her job. At zeroing in on someone and what makes them tick. What is holding them back. And her line about breakups is just that for Tim. Stating it’s a trigger for many men. How stereotypical gender roles prevent them from seeking help. It gets under Tim’s skin instantly. I’m sure she said for a few reasons.

First because It’s an accurate statement for most men. Sad but true. Two because she feels this fits Tim perfectly and his current situation. And lastly to see how he would react. Which of course is defensively, but she’s methodically chipping away at his wall. That statement is not only this situation. But it’s Tim’s entire life. His father called him. ‘Poor little Tim-Tim.’ This was not a term of endearment but a mockery of his feelings. For even having them let alone expressing them. To have feelings was shameful and to act on them even more so. Looked at Tim with disgust and disappointment for it.

That scene in 4x09 in his father's hospital room was a painful glimpse into his childhood. To how he was treated for ever being emotional or needing help. So of course he’s not going to reach out for help. It’s deeply ingrained in him not to do as such. Breaks my heart. Grew up the same way. Being pegged as ‘Sensitive’ or mocked for what they perceived as emotional tantrums. When I was just a little person with emotions and didn't know how to regulate them. I was emotionally imbalanced because of my parents. Just like Tim is cause of his father. Blair is testing the water with her theory and striking gold in this moment. Quite the opening volley from her.

Grey starts on his own inquiry into how Lucy is. Clearly needing to since she exploded at their last call. Asking if she’s talked to Tim since the breakup? She is brief and just replies nope. Although her reply is brief her emotions are not. Just hearing his name is springing up tears to her eyes. Melissa aiming to do the same to me in this scene. Straight killing me at how damn sad she looks. I hate it so much. Lucy follows it up with saying she thought he didn't care about her personal life?

Oof giving me Tim flashbacks to 3x08. When she was questioning why they were talking about her personal life? Grey's answer obviously different in this instance. Telling her he cares if it affects her job. I mean he is Watch Commander. This is a valid thing to worry about. Also part of the reason for this ride along. To gauge where she is at and how it’s affecting her on the job. Grey connects the dots of Tim’s IA investigation and their breakup. Knowing it’s not a coincidence.

Tells Lucy as such that he can’t help but wonder if there’s a connection. I mean obviously there is. He’s just not going to get that out of either of them. He failed earlier with Tim. Also it's not the connection he think's it is. I do love her instinct to protect Tim regardless of the hurt. Was pressed and she doesn’t budge. That is a natural thing for her bad place or not. Lucy may not fully understand the why of it all. But she would never cast suspicion on him due to it. She just loves him and will protect him even when he has no idea. I’m not crying you are….*sniffle*

Lucy reinforces the idea it was nothing of the sort. That it was just weird timing that’s it. Then she goes into analysis mode. Which is her form of defense mechanism IMO. If she can try to understand it. Figure out the why. Maybe she can start to heal from it. Not have it drown her every single day. Lucy chalks it up to Tim not being emotionally available. I mean that is definitely part of the problem…

He is a disaster zone of a person right now. He’s occupied mentally in a way she has no idea about right now. At this point in time Tim doesn’t even know this about himself. Only that he wasn’t deserving of her love, that he is too toxic, and she’s better off without him. Has no idea how deep the rabbit hole goes for him. Neither does Lucy. It shows how painfully in the dark she is about what went down.

The sports comment is pretty comical though. I mean I totally get being emotional about sports. The Rangers ruined my mood for awhile when they were booted from the playoffs in June. We made it deep into the playoffs too. So I get the hurt. Regardless it’s a funny reply from Grey. Makes Lucy smile too which is a win right now. The look out the window had me cackling haha I love it so much. We need more of them.

Dr. London continues her barrage on Tim and I’m here for it. It’s the only way he responds to emotional stuff. Also I think Blair realizes if she doesn’t come at him hard, she won’t gain any ground with him. Doesn’t hold back when she compares Tim and Lucy to her line about how platonic love. How their's started out as a friendship and blossomed into so much more. *heart clutch* Eric kills me in these shop scenes.

We can feel and see the emotions he’s choking back. The sadness in his reply of ‘I was her T.O.’ He can feel the rush of emotions flooding in so he sends Aaron away. Tries to ward her off by saying he knows what she’s doing. Blair is getting under his skin quickly and he can feel the heat of it. She is poking at a raw nerve and it’s very evident. The looks on his face through out this scene make me wanna cry. Dr. London reminds him breakups evoke anxiety and depression in men.

Tim being Tim tries bravado this time. Saying he’s not depressed. (Ok babe…) That he’s the one who broke up with her. Trying to deflect but it isn’t working on her. Blair doesn’t relent and replies yes he did. BUT she can tell he has immense guilt around doing it. Which we know is true. He feels horrendous for breaking his person's heart. It’s eating at him like a cancer. Exuding out him so much he can’t use his usual tactics to hide it from her. She see's right through him. Like he's glass and she's peering in for a look.

Dr. London continues her pegging of him with this next part. My god does she have him dead to rights. Not only that but she’s getting through. She can’t see his face but if she could she would see it. Eric is masterful once again with his expressive emotions. We watch the range of emotions in this portion. Especially with his eyes. Always the eyes. She really hits home with her analysis of him. You can see it seeping in. I’m so bummed there isn’t a set of this scene. It’s so so good.

Bringing up how internalizing guilt and shame leads to self directed anger. If that isn’t our boy in a sentence. Sweet baby James. The part about self directed anger is this man to a tee. An absolute tee. The way he’s soaking in all her info has me deep in my feels. That guilt she mentioned is pouring out of him in this moment. Along with the shame and anger that is starting to build as well. The anger is because she draws a HARD line in the sand about this eval.

That if she can’t tell if he isn’t self destructive by EOD she’s gonna sideline him. How he can keep stonewalling her if he likes but it’s only gonna end in a psych eval. It is a rough way to come at him. But he needs it so badly. Lucy isn’t here to knock it into him. So I’ll be forever grateful Blair was. He of course reverts back to S1 Tim when Aaron re-enters. Snaps at him because he can’t handle the emotions coursing through him. So he takes it out on poor Aaron. What she said has hit very close to home. Sadly Aaron get the repercussions of that.

We go back to Grey and Lucy talking about Tamara. Their case involves a girl being scooped up from babysitting. Has her worried and Grey can tell. I adore him telling her what she’s done with Tamara is wonderful. That Lucy showed her unconditional love. The kind that healed her skeptical heart. Made her wanna launch back into the world due to it. It’s here Lucy circles it back to Tim. With her line about letting people you care about go. How could she not? It’s consumed all her thoughts for days and days. Grey picks up on it immediately. Asking if they’re still talking about Tamara?

This launches a Lucy rant of epic proportions. One I don’t think Grey is even close to be accustomed to lol She is finally ready to unload the emotional burden on her soul. Her reaction here is just further proof she had no idea why Tim did what he did. Also probably has zero idea he got half his unit killed. Bringing on his episode of self loathing. Which prompted the breakup. Saying she has no idea what happened to them. That she can’t stop thinking about it. Girl me too. It consumed a lot of my waking hours in that three week hiatus as well. Only difference is I got to know WHY Tim did it.

It didn’t make it less painful but it helped to know the why. This is where Lucy and I are a lot like. Needing to know the why helps me accept things. Otherwise I go insane. Like I stated earlier her defense mechanism is analysis. She was so damn blindsided by this. Her brain hasn’t caught up to any possibilities of why. Lucy was left in the dark from 6x05-6x06. Only let in with what I can assume was minimal surface level info about Ray. Otherwise her analysis brain could figure out why he did this if she knew EVERYTHING. If she did know she could cobble together exactly the why behind his reasoning.

Lucy going off saying she thought their relationship was worth more. The 'Unless it is.' haunting her. Haunting us all. I couldn't look at happy gifs for a long time.....She thought what they had was worth more than a cheap cop out. It was very cliched how he put it. Which was intentional I'm sure on the writers part. Made it seem like it was a cheap way out of their relationship. Clearly we know it’s SO much more complex than that. But she doesn’t know any of that. Which continues to leave her in the dark and it's painful to watch her struggle with that. I just want to tell her. *screams into a pillow* Instead of having a say in it Tim made the decision for her and it pisses her off.

As it should. It pisses me off. He took her voice and right to an opinion with their breakup. That is something he’s going to have to make up for. Lucy deserved so much better than how that breakup went down. She does deserve to be the one who decides if she wants better. Which she didn’t get to. Nor did she want better. That man was IT for her. And she is thought she was the same for Tim. It’s why her line about struggling with him letting go so easily hurts. Honestly It’s what adds another layer of tragedy to this whole breakup. The miscommunication even in the breakup itself is unreal. Lucy finishes off her rant perfectly though.

Saying even if she wanted total self destruction it was her damn life. Her friggin decision to make that call. Tim straight robbed her of that. Not only did he but left her holding the emotional bag afterward. It’s not right and it’s not fair. Our girl deserved so much better than how he handled that breakup. He has a lot to make up for in s7. But he knows that just not right now…Grey’s face to finish off the scene is everything. Knowing she needed to get that off her soul. That this is why he didn’t want her riding around solo today. This was a much needed spiral in a safe place. So well done Wade. Our girl needed this.

Blair doesn’t even have to wait for an opening in this next scene. Tim jumps in to defend himself about eviscerating Aaron. Saying it’s his style. She continues to read Tim like a frigging book. This is my favorite scene of the episode for him. Just because it’s so telling. Eric is incredibly expressive as she breaks him down. He feels trapped but also can’t deny what she’s telling him. Her assessment is out of the world good.

Another beautiful thing about this scene is she is attacking his problem at it's damaged root. Blair tells him he’s under a lot of stress it's clear. Not just the case though. Saying whatever went down between him and Ray must’ve been real bad for him to lose Metro. To be back on patrol. Tim doing his old move of deflection. Saying how he owns mistakes and moves on. Well he has half of that right… Our boy definitely owns his mistakes. Moving on is a whole other issue.

Dr. London is moving in for the kill at this point. Saying but he hasn’t moved on. How can he when his whole identity is wrapped up in acting honorably? Damn she has him pegged. If he could truly move on. Be solid in that statement we wouldn’t be here. If he could really reconcile with the past he wouldn’t have ended it with Lucy. He feels not worthy and very much not honorable enough to be with her. So he cut ties. *sad sigh* Tim cloaks himself in honor then condemns himself when he falls short of it. Which is why he can't move on. Just adds another pebble to his soul as it were.

Blair continues with her spot on assessment. Her guess being that has taken a devastating effect on his self esteem. We know it has. His entire life he hasn’t felt worthy or deserving. Has has always had the lowest self esteem about himself. Because mistakes were failure growing up. Mistakes of any kind. Which isn't ok. A healthy and good parents loves you through them. Teaches you there are lessons in mistakes. That it’s not the falling down it’s the not getting back up that’s failure. This man has been knocked down more times than I can count.

He got up every single time. Which is incredible and grew him to be resilient af. Sadly to Tim it’s the falling down that is failure. He never saw his getting back up as a positive thing. Just saw it as surviving and it was partly. He didn't see the goodness in getting back up because his father never did. He grew up in a household where mistakes were pain. Whether it was physical or emotional it was abuse for said mistake. Didn't matter what it was. So to Tim if he set high standards for himself. If he acted honorably his chances of mistakes or failure would decrease. (In his mind at least)

The problem with that is he’s human. We’re all human and fall short of expectations. No one set his except him. Hell I just dealt with this writing this review. I set this insane expectation of when I should've been done writing it and I didn't hit it. I was mad at myself for a expectation only I had set. It's the same for Tim. Whenever he fell short of being ‘honorable’ in his mind. It dinged his already fractured self-esteem. To the point where he has none. Lucy rebuilt it over the years. But it goes to show you how little he thinks of himself. That Ray coming back toppled all of that. Imploded it really in a matter of days.

She really brings it home here. Her pièce de résistance as it were. This is where Tim goes from huh? To Oh…Blair notes it’s why he’s been punishing himself. This catches Tim off guard because he’s truly confused. Like I said earlier I don’t know even know Tim knew the deep why of their breakup. He for sure had no idea he was doing this specifically. No doubt in my mind he had zero idea he was punishing himself. I didn't know I was in the story I'm going to use here in a bit.

Now he knew he wasn’t worthy. Knew he didn’t feel deserving of her love and comfort. Because he had acted so dishonorably. To Tim there’s no way she could love him after that. He projected 'Rules matter Boot. 'their entire relationship. Long before they got together. To Tim he created this infallible image of himself to her that he fell short of.

One he tried to instill in her as a cop. Yet he failed to do so. He couldn’t look at himself let alone make her do as such. That's what he understood about what he’d done. Which is insane cause she met him at his worst and still saw his good heart. But that's a rant for another time and place ha Suffice to say it was standard he was holding himself to that she wasn't. I get this so much it pains me.

Blair soldiers on in her explanation. Letting him know he’s depriving himself of something he loves. Something that brings him joy. I know this tactic all too well. I mentioned this in my mini. But feels appropriate to do so again in terms of relation. I do this myself. Tim and I are very alike it scares me honestly. When I fail at something I punish myself too. I feel I’m getting better at this. But this story is pre-therapy Caitlin lol.

Anyways I did this with my last job. I wasn’t good at it right away. I was close to being fired actually. My leader at the time was confident in my game plan to fix myself. I however was intent on punishing myself for being awful. I was mad I had failed in the first place. Pissed at myself for not being good right away. This clearly being the result of my childhood. Where I wasn’t allowed to make mistakes. If I did it resulted in emotional abuse in the form of the silent treatment. So going into adulthood I still held myself to higher standards than anyone ever set for me.

When I fell short of those standards I punished myself. So with this new job I denied myself music. It was something I loved dearly. So in turn until I got my act together I didn’t listen to it. Didn’t felt I deserved till until I rectified my mistake. My boss found out and told me not to be so hard on myself. That there was no need to punish myself. I hadn't even realized that's what I was doing till she said that. I still was hard on myself but allowed her faith in me to let myself listen to music again. It ended up being what saved me.

This is why I relate so hard to him doing this. Because I did it. My whole life. Tim doesn’t even realize till now he’s punishing himself this way. He’s denied himself his person. What brings him the most constant joy in his life? Lucy. Who is the radiant sunshine that made his life better? Lucy. So. In turn he is denying himself the one person he feels he doesn’t deserve. Punishing himself by denying himself her presence, he is simultaneously depriving himself of the happiness their relationship brings him. We know how happy she's made him. The highest form of penance is sacrificing that. Oh my broken boy.

I love her saying 'Or more accurately someone.' She saw what went down at the kit room. How Tim longingly looked at Lucy when she departed. Knows this man is still so in love with her. It’s obvious he hasn’t made this connection himself till she says this. We see it dawning on Tim. Her getting through to him. We watch as this hits Tim square in his chest. Or really his heart. She has struck a deep chord and it shows all over his reaction. Especially in the second gif. Tim is holding back actual tears as it hits him.

Ugh my heart. Damn you Eric. As quickly as he comes to this realization Aaron re enters the car. Tim has to readjust and adapt back to hard ass. Was bummed couldn't fit this in but he struggles with it. Aaron is smart enough not to ask if he’s ok twice… I do remember being excited by this scene. Because I felt it would propel him toward therapy. To knowing he needs help. All the signs can be there but you have to see the need for it. I'll be forever grateful to Dr. London for helping him see it.

Lucy spotting Tim and touching her tattoo. Melissa you’re killing me. But also don’t stop. I love that you do that. It makes me wanna cry though. Because we all know why she reaches for it. It’s to remind herself she’s a survivor. The only problem is that idea came from Tim….That entire grounding exercise is wrapped up in him. So it’s painful she has to now use it about him. It’s beautifully tragic and subtle.

Which is why it hurts so good. Mostly hurts atm. Until they’re reconciled anyways. It PAINS me to see how awkward they are with one another. To go from being so damn linked to this disjointed mess….I hate it so much. Eric and Melissa do it so well though. The body language and the nervousness pouring out of them. Lucy wanting to start something but not knowing where to begin. At a loss for words.

Tim doesn’t help her at all. Just stands there like an awko taco. That lyric ‘I’ve never been a fighter.’ Ringing through the silence. Ugh the music attacking us once again in the best way. This song is so good for this moment. I truly think having listened to it enough times now. Feel it’s Lucy POV with these lyrics. Which I’ll delve into more in the side notes. This entire scene just hurts. Like poking a unhealed wound.

I have to note this gif separately. Said this a lot this ep but damn you Eric. His precious little smile here is killing me softly. He’s spent the entire ep on pins and needles. Avoiding his feelings. Lashing out at everyone around him. Then being hit with some serious realizations. Then he sees sees Lucy and it appears. That Lucy smile of his. But he forgets he can’t be flashing that adorable smile to her anymore. He lost the right to find comfort in her presence when he walked away from them. From her.

The smile also kills me because he’s so in love with her. Look at that man above. It’s written all over that smile. It hurts to watch. I saw a great tag for this gif. ‘idk what hurts more his little smile or his shining eyes.’ Honestly? Both. They both hurt….Once again he has no right to be showing her those in love eyes paired with tears. Only hurts her more. Hell it’s killing me. It pains me he’s punishing them both for this spiral. This scene hurts so much but starting out with this smile. *sigh* I'm dying Timothy. You've killed me.

Truly blinded by his own shortcomings at the start of this scene. Thought he could just jump back in there and be normal. That there’s no way she loved him like he loved her. So she would be more normal and ok after their break up than him. My broken Timothy you hurt my heart on so many levels. Not only that but makes a joke about clocking out. He's nervous in his delivery of it too. Which he should be. He exploded them and is making small talk? Oh Tim. No....

Lucy calls him out instantly for it. I adore her for the stand she takes here. Not only not letting hide in small talk but getting her side in finally. Refusing to let him force normalcy on them when they never had a real talk. An actual adult convo. Insulted he wants to hide in chit chat. No matter the place they’re in Lucy is always going to tell him like it is. We all know he loves her for it even when it hurts like hell like this scene does.

Lucy reams him like she should. Letting out all the emotions she never got to express. Also what she’s been stewing on. Telling him what she has been holding onto the past week. Saying how he’s been so concerned with what she deserves. That he BLEW past them even having an adult conversation. Which he most definitely did. Also it saddens me the physical distance in this scene. They’re never ever that far apart. Very telling of where they are right know. I hate it.

You can see the discord between just by their physical distance. What kills me is she gives him a chance to rectify it. To have that convo. Tim deflects because the man is no where near ready for that kind of conversation. It reflects in his reply. He only continues to see he isn’t worthy of her. You are everything she wants you foolish man. He doesn't have a damn clue with that though. So he continues to push her back. Away from him and his turmoil.

It’s here I’m so proud of Lucy. She stands her ground and sets a boundary. Which is not easy BTW. It's insanely hard. Telling Tim he has a lot more to work on that she realized.... That she wishes him good luck with that. But she clearly isn’t the person to help him anymore. *heart clutch* My heart is on the ground again. I get it though. She is stepping away from him and how nuclear he is. It’s such a good boundary to set for herself. For her sanity really.

Another great quote from that book mentioned last ep. “A boundary is our only fighting chance at reclaiming our peace.” It’s the only way she can regain any semblance of peace. To move on from this and heal. Have couple more that are so appropriate here. “People who are irresponsible with our hearts shouldn’t be granted great access to them.” Tim hurt her heart so greatly. Betrayed her trust so deeply. This boundary is to protect herself. But also to keep Tim from having the access he once had. It's easy to see he isn't budging so even if it pains her she has to create distance for herself.

Final one “Love can be unconditional but access doesn’t have to be.” Lucy still loves that man unconditionally but can’t allow him to access her heart anymore. She gave him one last shot and he blew it. So she retreated like she should when he denied her. Does kill me she is clutching her tattoo end of this scene as well. It's what keeps that boundary in place and her feet moving forward. Breaking my heart all over again in an instant. I'll just be sobbing in the corner no big deal...

I was pleasantly surprised when we got another moment in Grey’s office. Thinking that was the end of it. I was hoping against hope Tim wanted to reach out and get help. This scene delivers in spades on that. Tim fully expecting to be mandated therapy. We can see he’s actually disappointed when she has a good review of him. Reporting it won’t affect his work. I’m glad she did because it’s prompts Tim to advocate for himself in this moment.

To say I’m proud of him is an understatement. To not only see he has work to do but reach out for the help to accomplish that. The relief this made me feel is immense. Tim says he was expecting her to say he had a lot of work to do on himself. Grey opens the dialogue asking if he does? Tim says he thinks so…Such a huge step for him. I could cry. Hell I was misty when this scene happened. Tim then asks what Grey thinks of him seeing her regularly?

Wade's reply makes me heart so happy. That it takes a lot of courage to ask for help. It really does. There is nothing scarier than asking for help. Especially with your mental health. Men have it easy in a lot of ways IMO. This is not one of them. They are told not to have feelings, or anxiety, god help them if they mental health issues. Tim coming to this place is incredible. This is a milestone scene for his character. I loved the writers tackling mental health this year. For doing it with Tim too. I could cry at how proud I am for him reaching out. For realizing something is amiss and knowing he needs to fix it.

As if this episode wasn’t making me cry enough. This final scene with Tamara gets me teary. Other than Tim and Lucy they’ve been my fav. Been beautiful to watch them both grow. It helped Tamara heal her untrusting heart. That unconditional love Lucy gave her never wavered. It helped rebuild her faith in people. In herself. I know it helped Lucy heal from Jackson. To show her to open her heart again after losing him.

They healed one another and it makes me emotional writing about it. They’re sisters and family all wrapped up in one. Hard to watch Lucy lose another piece of her life though. Truly hope this pain and loss helps her grow. If there is anything I've learned in therapy is that. Growing through the pain. I hope s7 treats her kindly after this harsh season. It’ll be make all the hurt she goes through so much better. I’ll be fascinated to see how s7 starts for her. How it progresses.

Where she’s at emotionally and mentally. My heart hurts for her in this season. So very much. I can’t even explain the level of ache I feel for Lucy. Our girl deserves the world and more. I hope she explores herself more next season. Tunes into how she doesn’t tend to take care of herself. Think she is on a growth journey of her own. It starts here though. I’ll be excited to see how s7 plays out for her. The end. of this scene is funny. Lucy begging her not to tell the car story at dinner LOL

This is gigantic growth right here. Coming here like this. Telling Dr. London that he was thinking on all she said. He is going against his better nature and reaching out. Admitting something is wrong and doing something about it. I know how hard it is to reach a place where you do this. What’s so beautiful about this development is Tim seeing he needs help. It's why he's here. He can feel something inside him is broken. He doesn’t know how to fix it so he is reaching out to someone who does. Tim can tell something is wrong and just wants to fix it.

To understand why and to get better. It is not a light decision to start therapy. It really isn’t. I ran away from my feelings for years. Damn near a decade really. Made light of the abuse I had growing up. Would crack jokes about it even. Because that was my defense mechanism. It was easier than dealing with what really happened to me. Ignoring how emotionally unstable and imbalanced I was due to it. I spent most of my 20s running away from help. From therapy. When it was brought up to me I would shoot it down like Tim. Call it nonsense and how I didn’t need it. I was also like Tim (Still am. WIP over here) and wrapped my identity up in the same stuff.

Being so fucking harsh on myself it was unreal. I still struggle with giving myself grace. I feel I’ve gotten better but it’s still a daily battle. It’s hard to explain the feeling you get when you know you can’t out run your demons anymore. There is just something that goes off inside you like an alarm. It tells you it doesn’t feel right, that you don’t know how to fix it, but it is time you ought to. All I know is it is different for everyone. What set me off is very different from Tim’s. His was a past mistake that came with a side of buried trauma.

Mine was a kind comment meant to make me feel good. Also some buried trauma. I was helping this sweet old lady who was a client of mine. She noted the earrings I was wearing and said they were nice. Told her my mom gave them to me with no emotion in my tone. I’ll never forget the sweet look in her eyes as she told me ‘Your mother must love you very much.’ What should’ve been a nice comment was a huge trigger for me. My mother is some of my deepest seated trauma. It set me off like nothing ever has before.

Her saying that unlocked this pandoras box of emotions. One I spent nearly a decade suppressing. I got into my car afterward and cried. I texted my sister telling her I think it was time I got help. I felt something was wrong. Wrong enough to do something about it. My repressed emotions had clawed to the surface for air. I couldn’t ignore them anymore. I had to get help. Something was broken and I needed the help to fix it. So that brings us back to Tim in this moment. To why he is standing here right now before Dr. London.

He tells her she is right. That he is mad at himself. We can see the realization just wash over Tim. Like he’s opening his eyes for the first time in forever. We can also see the disappointment on his face when she says tomorrow. He is wanting to talk about this right then and there. I’m same way (shock surprise I know.) Blair sees this and asks if it’s an emergency? Tim doing what he does best says no. Trying to do the “honorable” and not burden her with his needs. Because it’s easy to see yourself as a burden to everyone when you’ve been treated like one most of your life.

It’s what makes Tim digging deep and saying no I need this now below so massive. Watching him advocate for himself *sigh* I wanna cry. Because this scene is HUGE for him. I remember thinking to those who were hating on him at the time. If you can’t grasp how groundbreaking this is. You don’t get his character at all. Nor have you ever struggled with mental health issues or asking for help. Anyone who was nasty about his mental health made me so mad. To be that cold and insensitive meant to me you were emotionally immature yourself. I'll die on that hill happily.

If you need help understanding Tim in this moment or this episode please use my experience. What happened with me and what it took to bring me to therapy. Because they are similar. That is this man in this moment. Realizing Ray resurfaced all his demons. They came up for air and weren’t going away this time. Just like mine. This is Tim’s ‘Come to Jesus’ moment in regard to his mental health. He’s standing here because everything Dr. London told him rang true. Hit a chord inside him it was time to get right.

The thing is he doesn’t know how to handle it. Which is why he is reaching out like this. I do wanna say Lucy got him to a better place for him to do this. S1 Tim wouldn’t have reacted this way to Dr. London. Not at all. I don’t wanna forget the impact she’s had on him. But this is not Lucy’s problem to fix. She even stated that in their scene together. She is not the one which sucks. But this is not her journey to be on. A healing journey is a very personal and vulnerable thing. It’s one you have to do by yourself. (And with your therapist)

My friends and family helped prep me for mine. I’m so grateful for that. To get me to place where I could see I needed the help. But it was up to ME to take that first step. That's what this scene represents for Tim. Taking that ever so painful and scary first step into healing. Tim can see the work he has to do and that is progress. I truly truly hope he continues therapy in s7.

Despite Blair. I’m so excited they went this path with him. Didn’t just try and fix them and gloss over the fact he needs help. Appreciate the proper care they took with this SL. It also may not have felt like it at the time. But it’s paving a path of healing for them in the future. Tim’s head right will be best for them when they heal and reunite. Phew This was a doozy to tackle. I hope you all enjoyed it. And those who didn’t read my mini can see Tim’s POV and the WHY of everything. As I’ve said many times it is not to excuse but to explain.

Side Notes-Very Much Chenford

This will be Chenford related . I wanted a section to go over this glorious song 'The Ventura Exit.' Just wasn't room in the review to do it. So I'm doing it my side notes. More I listened to it the more it was perfect for this episode. Especially with what Lucy's is going through. It feels very much from her POV. The lyrics hit so much and have to be acknowledged IMO. First couple are just angsty musings from the song. They clearly aren't canon but evoked these thoughts in me. Others felt more canon driven.

"The first night I woke up four times on your side of the bed." This lyric could be said of the both of them. But this makes me think of her reaching out to his side in middle of the night. You know she probably still had on and off nightmares about DOD. Reaching out to him being a default for her. I could see that first night of their breakup this happening. This song put stuff in my head I had to get out lol

"Fighting muscle memory expecting a hand to be there when I reach out. Taking the Ventura exit to your house." This song is playing through out the rest of the episode. You can hear the lyrics if you really listen. I'm sure she fought the auto pilot to his house during that week as well. I know we only see them at her place but you know she was over there a lot too. Probably had her own drawer and all that. "I don’t hate you, but the more I think on it you let me down (You couldn’t see me. You stopped believing)" This encapsulates everything in this episode for Lucy. She doesn't hate him but he let her down SOOO much. He couldn't see her in their fight. He stop believing in them. Believing in her. So heartbreaking how perfect this song is. I wanna cry. "I miss you, I miss you, I’ll never forgive you. I wish I was with you I miss you I miss you I’ll always forgive you." I loved it ending on this lyric. Starts out with anger and never forgiving then it does. Because that is true of Lucy. She misses him so much but is so damn angry with him. But wishes she was with him. Which is why the ending lyric being that gets. me in the feels. We know she'll always forgive him. She loves this man too much not too.

I believe that's what we'll see in s7. Especially with him working on himself. That and giving her whatever doses she allows for him to show how much she means to him. This lyric made me hopeful for the first time since 6x05. If you don't have this song I highly recommend buying it. Not only is is perfect for this episode and them. It's just a REALLY good song. You can listen to it in full in the link I posted though. Thank you for all the likes, comments ( I LOVE comments don't be shy ha ) and reblogs. You are the reason I do these. I shall see you in 6x08 :)

[saturnsorbits]

Wingman

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Kaminari is an insecure idiot, Breeding, Oral(ish), Light Choking, V. v. v Slight FemDom, Saturnari Coded. Word Count: 7.5k.

Summary: Kaminari has always been the wingman, but with you, he wants to be anything but...

Coming out tonight was a bad idea.

Through some miracle, the whole gang has managed to swing the same night off, a rarity that Kaminari should be enjoying, but even as he watches all his friends cut loose, he can't say he shares in their excitement.

Slouched in the back of a booth, he nurses his fourth drink. It had taken almost twenty minutes to convince everyone to go have fun without him. He'd fed them all the usual excuses – that he was tired, his new shoes where a touch tight, he was too busy scouting for girls and didn't want them hanging around to ruin his vibe. It had been the last one that had sold it, which was ironic. Kaminari shifts to itch the back of his calf with the point of a shoe. He'd be okay here, camped out in the corner with nothing, but a drink and a sinking sense of disappointment.

In the middle of the club, Kirishima has his arms wrapped around Bakugo's neck. His nose is pressed to his cheek, lips barely a millimetre from pale skin as to better whisper low to him. Around them, a steady flow of interceptors try, and fail, to slip between them.

Sero is at the bar. He leans lazily against it, an elbow dug into hardwood at an angle that just lets him hold his drink without dropping it. Already, there's a semi-circle of women around him. They touch him in the absent way one touches something they want to own. He doesn't stop their advances.

Somewhere out there is Mina, too, but she moves too quick to spot. Flitting between groups of people, she dazzles anyone who so much as glances in her direction without pausing to tarry on just one conquest.

Then... There's you.

Kaminari finds his gaze drifting, naturally, until he finds you. He's just keeping an eye on you. Or, at least that's what he's telling himself. He can see Sero looking too, and the occasional glances Bakugo spares you before he's twirled away and forced to break his line of sight. Mina, as well, he's seen it and even though Kirishima thinks he's being subtle, he's not.

He wonders which of them you want. Which you'd let take you home and touch, delicate, against your skin. You could have any of them, that much is for sure, but that doesn't stop the acidic burn that washes his throat when he thinks about his own odds. With friends like his, Kaminari has long since come to terms with always being the last choice.

'Kami!' You slip into the booth ass first and almost, almost, lose an inch of your gin. Righting the glass, you tap your shoulder playfully against his, reveling in the way the muscle of his bicep twitches with the contact.

Kaminari sighs, running a finger around the lip of his glass. At this point, he figures it'll just be less painful to beat you to the punch. 'So go on.' He fixes his smile back into place, erasing the edges of a frown and looks out at the mess of people on the dance floor. 'Who's your type?'

'Huh?'

'Which one?' He pretends to have already suffocated the wisp of hope alight in his chest and forces a chuckle up his throat. He wiggles his eyebrows at you while almost white-knuckling his drink. 'Because Sero'll take you home like yesterday, but he's got metal in his... Y'know, so if that's not your bag you might want to try one of the other two... Maybe, both?' He cocks his head, smirks without the mirth. 'Or, fuck, do you want Mina's number?' His intonation spikes towards the end, curiosity and panic bleeding into his tone.

'I don't want any of them...' You frown and shake your head, moving to lay a hand on his shoulder, but just before your fingers can play against the cuff of his t-shirt, he moves.

'C'mon. You don't have to play coy with me.' Shoulders tensing, he tries to steady the beating of his heart. The small fire in his chest is still kindling, burning hope bright and sure. Best not to let you touch him until it's extinguished then - he'd only be letting himself get the wrong idea. 'I am supposed to be the wingman and all that...'

'Kaminari.' His ignorance is endearing. There's a pinkness on his cheeks that makes you want to kiss them, but you'll have to get to the root of the reason he won't let you get close if you're looking to live out that fantasy.

Unperturbed, Kaminari continues on with each of his words stinging like small splinters wedged under his skin. It's not like he hasn't done this before, helped one of his friends hook up with the object of his desire, but you – you're different. He likes you. 'Personally, I'd say try your luck with Kirishima first if you're not up for handling a bit of a brat, Bakugo can be -.'

'Kaminari -.'

'And Mina! Well, Mina's...'

'Kaminari, I don't want any of them.'

Kaminari tenses. No. Don't do that. He doesn't want you to fan the flames, doesn't think he can take being swallowed alive by that fire tonight. The tone that lifts from his tongue is sharp, cracking like a whip between you. 'I said you don't have to do that -.'

It only makes you smile. 'Denki...' You coo. Then, when he tucks his chin to his chest, you lift it with a finger and force him to look: to see.

'Baby.'

'Huh?'

'I said.' You keep hold of his chin and make him watch your mouth as you speak, enunciating every word as clearly as you can. 'I don't want any of them...'

'Oh...' He nods despite having not digested any of your words. Until... His jaw drops, mouth rounding. 'Oh.'

The tip of his nose has pinkened, glowing soft in the dim lights of the club and his eyes are shining, golden half-moons bright as they flicker subconsciously from your eyes to your lips and then back again.

Cocking your head, you chuckle. 'You can't really expect me to buy that you don't know when you're being hit on?'

'I – Women don't usually...' He trails off as embarrassment coils low in his gut. Once upon a time, he'd fancied himself a ladies man, but by the end of high-school he'd been made aware that promiscuity was simply a dream for him. He'd been the last to lose his virginity and even then, he's pretty sure Camie fucked him out of pity. A familiar swirl of uneasiness whips around his stomach as the ever-present tendrils of insecurity wiggle and twist. 'I mean – Have you seen my friends?'

You snort, refusing to give him an inch. 'Have you seen yourself?'

You laugh and Kaminari thinks he'll never have to listen to music again. 'I don't – I'm not.'

Shaking your head, you press a finger to his lips and smirk. 'Mr. If I hear one more stupid thing fall out of your mouth I'm gonna have to kiss it.'

He chuffs before he's able to stop it, one million dull insults swelling in his chest. He never was good at saying the right thing and people have always been too keen to point it out. 'Gonna be kissing me a lot then.'

'Yeah?' A pleasant warmth spreads through your chest at the thought of stealing multiple of his kisses. It makes your shoulders tight and your stomach feel light.

Kaminari nods. 'They don't call me Dunce Face for -.'

You cut him off with a kiss. Just as you'd promised. It's a soft thing, a barely-there graze of lips, but he reels back from it almost breath-taken. Reaching up, you play with a strand of blond falling from his fringe and wait, patiently for his brain to catch up with the situation. Truth be told, you've had your eye on Kaminari for a while, but when even your blatant flirting at the last squad BBQ hadn't been enough to convince him of your interest, you'd decided to take more divisive measures.

An airy chuckle breaks Kaminari's lips. 'I might have to say stupid stuff more often, because – mmhmph.'

You kiss him again.

'I don't just get kisses when I say something stupid though, do I -.'

And again.

This time, he lets himself sink. He's still not really sure what's going on. Maybe one of the others put you up to this, to make this night one to remember – but, as your mouth migrates from his lips to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, and neck, he struggles to dwell on whatever scheme has lead to him being here. A dull pressure slips easily up his thigh, skating over the ripped denim of his jeans until he can feel your fingers curl at the join of his thigh. Spit sticks in his throat, his hands instinctively reaching out to touch, to curl around your arm and hip. 'I -.' He reels back with a heaving chest. The words tumbling from his mouth before he can catch them. 'I can't – don't – I don't want...'

You flinch back as if burnt.

The absence of your body crowding against his makes his entire chest feel cold, but he pushes on, tripping over his thoughts as he goes. 'I – fuck – Okay. So I think, I think you're... I think you're so fucking pretty, like wow, like holy shit you're – you're incredible, okay, but I don't... I can't, if you...' He looks down, then back up at where Sero is standing at the bar.

The other man looks at him, cocks an eyebrow and smirks, just enough to still seem nonchalant.

'If you're looking for a one night stand or something, then – then you're better off taking Sero home.' Squeezing an eye shut, he braces for impact – ignoring the pain that flares in his chest when he thinks of you slipping back out of the booth. He's gotten a taste now. He's not sure how he's supposed to ever forget about that.

'Kaminari, you fucking moron.' You blink and shake your head, ignoring the flittering anger that bubbles steady in your chest.

'Huh?' Cocking his head, Kaminari is almost wounded by the idea that – should he not feel as though he's just stumbled into something remarkably more serious – he'd be getting a kiss for whatever idiocy has just fallen out of his mouth.

You shove him. 'Who said I was just trying to fuck you – you -.'

'But -.'

'Do I really need to say it out loud? Do you want me to write it down? Text it to you?'

Kaminari feels something close to panic flood his veins as he watches disbelief wash clean over your features. 'I don't – When...'

'I could not have been any more obvious. I was practically falling over you at the barbecue. Kirishima's mums wouldn't stop saying how much of a cute couple we where...' Shaking your head, you widen your eyes and shout even louder over the music. '… You went along with it! I asked you to be my date to Bakugo's fucking award show last fucking week... I thought you -' A dizziness plants itself at the base of your skull. Honestly, you'd thought you'd been playing the long game. Convincing him of his worthiness, of your interest, but now... Now you're starting to think all of that energy might have gone to waste.

Kaminari blinks. 'You weren't just...' He swallows as something squirms in his stomach. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd misunderstood someone's intentions. Fuck, his and Momo's entire friendship is built off of the fact that he thought she'd been flirting with him and not just adopting him as some kind of awkward best-friend, who she could gossip with and put make-up on when she got bored. That had been one Hell of an awkward conversation. He can still remember how sweet she'd been when he'd slipped a hand onto her knee, how she'd cooed at him and apologised for giving him the wrong impression. It had been humiliating. Even if he did manage to swing a pretty amazing friend out of it.

'Just what?'

'Just being nice.'

You shake your head, still somewhat perplexed. 'No, Denki, I'm not just being nice. You ever see me pull that shit with anyone else?'

It feels as though someone has just doused gasoline onto the fire in his chest. Hope wraps itself around his lungs and squeezes until he has no other option other than to haul in a shallow breath. 'No.'

Huffing, you chew on your lip and fix him with a stare, eyebrows raising on your forehead. 'Exactly, and if I have my way, I'll be one Hell of a lot nicer.'

With his tongue stuck to the basin of his mouth, Kaminari summons the strength to mutter a soft: 'Really?' Already his body has broken out in a chill. Anticipation uses his spine as a ladder, causing the muscle of his back to tense and straighten his posture.

'Mmmhmm.' Leaning forward, you plant your elbows on the table and push your tits together. You don't miss how his Adam's apple bobs, or the way he finds himself unable to drag his eyes back up from your cleavage. 'So... You gonna let me be nicer to you, Kaminari?'

'It's – it's a bit of a mess, I – uh...'

You barely allow Kaminari to shut the door before you have him pressed against it. Your hands reach out to cup his face, fingers touching soft as they curl around the back of his neck and thread softly into the hair at the base of his skull. 'I don't care that you haven't cleaned up, Denki.'

He chuckles, disbelief and excitement mixing together in the basin of his throat as he his hands ball to fists at his sides. Static fills his joints. There's so much energy bubbling up inside of him that he doesn't quite know what to do with it. It zips through him, paralysing and energising in equal measure as he loses himself to your touch.

'I...' Swallowing, he leans forward until his forehead touches against yours. It grounds him, combines with the dull scratching of your nails on his scalp and lets him breathe. 'I really – Fuck, I can't believe this is happening.'

You laugh, eyes fluttering shut for a second as you bask in his gaze. You're not sure if he knows he's doing it, but Kaminari looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world. Large, luminescent irises highlight his adoration, spotlighting every inch of you as his eyes flicker from yours, to your lips, to the dip of your collarbones. 'Yeah...' You huff. 'Well best start believing.'

It's a messy stumble to his bedroom, a mix of uncoordinated limbs and hot, open-mouthed kisses. His hands are everywhere and greedy, grabbing at anything he can: the small of your back, your waist, your ass.

'Oh, shit...' He mumbles against your lips, already drunk and pulls back just enough to catch your eye. 'Is that...' Licking his lips he raises a hand to his own mouth and tests the stickiness there. 'Is that strawberry?'

Nodding, you subconsciously let your tongue dart out to taste. The gloss is barely tacky, almost gone from Denki's assault. Instead, you can see it on his lips – the faint shimmering of pale pink that glitters in the low light. If you kissed him again now, you're sure you'd be able to taste it too.

'It's nice.' He chuckles, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

Humming, you wrap a palm around the back of his neck and pull him in close, feeling his breath on your cheeks. 'Yeah?' It feels juvenile, getting butterflies over the evidence of your kiss, but there's no denying the pins and needles that perforate the insides of your lungs.

'Yeah....' There's a smile tugging at his lip. The steadily darkening of his cheeks suits him, makes the cool gold in his eyes stand out, alive and clear, against the burning plain of his features. What starts out as a small fire ignited on the high of his cheek bones is soon scorched earth across much of his nose, reaching to the peak of his chin. The joy makes him look boyish. Distractingly handsome as he erupts into another foray of half-digested laughter.

Leaning in, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and taste strawberries. It mixes with something harsher, the spirit he had been so easily tipping down his throat back in the club; but underneath the tart and fruit mixture all you can taste is undeniably: him.

It's a stray trainer and the edge of Denki's oddly coloured purple mattress that is your eventual undoing. You'd been too lost in each other to notice that the slow push of small steps backwards had run it's course, leaving little room for anything other than a fall.

You go down hard.

Denki hits the mattress first, his back concave, arms stretching up to pull you close before you'd even managed to feel the bite of the connection. He reaches up, brushing his fingers across your cheeks as if to check for injuries he knows you don't have.

'Isn't this the part where you ask me if it hurt when I fell?' You have to purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing, but it doesn't work.

The noise is infectious, making him break out too. 'I don't know about you, but it fucking hurt me.'

Kissing his nose, you carefully spread your legs to bracket his hips and push up, until you can hover over him with your hands denting the mattress at either side of his head. 'Always knew you'd fall for me, eventually.'

He rolls his eyes, but blushes deeper. Cupping your chin, he rubs a thumb across your jaw. 'I never thought you'd fall too, though.'

'Less of that.' Sitting up, you playfully slap at his shoulder before letting your hands skate down the sides of his arms. When you reach his wrists, you take hold of him and list, encouraging his palms to find a place on your thighs. Shivering at his touch, you swallow a smile.

'Touch me.'

As soon as the hold on his wrists loosens, his hands start to shake. Left to his own devices he finds himself torn, eyes eating away greedily at your body as he decides just where to lay his hands first. 'Can I...' His voice shakes, nerves soaking into the back of his tongue as he hooks a finger around the top of your dress. 'Can I take this off?'

Rolling your shoulders, you nod. You can feel the flex of his stomach muscles underneath you as he curls himself into a half-crunch to reach you. His hands skate across your shoulders, fingers catching on the thin material of the straps as he gently, slowly, encourages them down your arms.

There's something caught in his throat as he watches the material slide. It slinks down your skin, stretching around the width of your shoulders before coming back together when you pinch your elbows in towards your core.

You let the material bunch around your waist, exposing your chest to the air as you perch In his lap. Already, the cold has your nipples pebbling, rising to the air as the faint buzz of arousal continues to make a mockery of your nervous system.

'Sh – Shit.' He breathes. His hands twitch into the air automatically, rising to hover over the ruched material of your dress. There's a desperation in his fingertips, a burning itch that has his ligaments twitching as he attempts to commit every inch of your body to memory.

'Hey...' Huffing air out of your nose, you press your palms to his. His fingers slot between yours easily, allowing you to squeeze tightly once before retracting your touch. Tensing your fingers, you don't have to encourage him much before he's taking a firm hold of your chest and smoothing his thumbs across the apex of your tits.

A shaky breath bullies it's way from Kaminari's mouth, the dull click of his throat audible as he swallows down the groan vibrating through his chest. 'You're... Why're you, so – so soft?..'

You chuckle, the noise bouncing your chest in his hands as he continues to slowly explore your skin. 'I moisturise.'

At that, a laugh breaks through the lull. It's full bodied and high, a giggle born from pure amusement that makes the apples of his cheeks glow. 'Yeah?'

'Yeah...' You repeat and take his hands once more, encouraging him to take a rougher grip of you. ''m soft here.' Pressing his palms up, you let your chest spill into his hands, but before he can even think about taking a hold of you, you're moving him on. '...And here.'

Next, you skate his hands down your sides making him feel the swell of your curves as your waist gives way to the shape of your hips. 'But...' Biting your lip, you hook your thumbs below his palms and lift, forcing him to venture across the bunched material of your dress until you can nestle one of his hands against your thigh and the other, square over the mound of your cunt. 'I think I'm the softest here.'

Denki moans. Even through the sheer lace of your underwear he can feel how wet you are. It warms the pad of his thumb, making his skin tingle as he presses just so against the raw bud of your clit.

You jolt, even the gentle touch of his thumb making your cunt clench with anticipation. Humming under your breath, you let go of his hand to tug at the collar of his shirt. 'Off... C'mon, it's not fair.' You're whining now, hips moving in the smallest circles you can manage against his stationary pressure.

'Hmm?' Mesmerised by your sudden neediness, he has to shake his head to bring his brain back online for long enough to process your request; but as soon as he does, he's sitting up and almost unseating you in his haste to get rid of his shirt. He yanks at the back of the material, hoisting it over his head and tossing it as far as he can manage. Curling his spine, he blinks up at you with hazy golden eyes and offers you an expectant smile. It twitches the corner of his mouth, pulling his lips into an expression that almost shows his teeth.

'That better?'

You nod and lift your hands to his shoulders. His skin, now bare, is warm under your palms. The lean muscle tangled over his bones is firm and yet, soft; moving delicately under your touch with each of his unsteady inhales. Your eyes eat at him greedily, at the surprising broadness of his shoulders, the cleft of his chest and the neat rolls of his stomach as he bends.

Shifting, he feels chews on the edge of his lip. 'W- What?'

'Nothing...' You smile, pulling your eyes back up to his. 'Just looking at you.'

'Why?'

Lifting a hand, you smooth your knuckles down his cheek. 'Because you're pretty...'

He blushes. Bright red blooms on the tips of his cheek bones and runs like a river down his face until almost his entire chest is flushed.

'… And,' you smirk. 'I think you're going to look even prettier when you're inside me.'

A strangled whimper leaves his throat. It catches behind his Adam's apple, clicking audibly in the new dull silence of the room. His hands lift, fingers digging crescents into the fat of your thighs as he tries to stop his hips from rutting up and into the softness of your cunt.

'You like the idea of that?' Using your thumb, you pull down his lip, exposing gum. 'Like the idea of being inside of me. You wanna fill me up, huh?'

He nods.

'Words.'

'Y – Yeah. Fuck, yeah... Wanna, wanna fuck you.' His grip tightens, eyes unable to be torn away from yours. Grinding down, he shifts his ass further into the mattress, trying and failing to slink away from your heat.

'Good boy.' You kiss him softly, letting him whine into your mouth, but before he can lurch forward and deepen the kiss, you're pulling back and shimmying off of his lap.

For a moment, he attempts to move with you. His head follows, lips still pursed and searching even as you almost clear his knees, but all too soon there's the obvious indents of your fingers in his chest stopping him.

Your hands fiddle with the button of his jeans, making quick work until you're able to slip your hands under the waistband. 'Lift your hips.'

He does, complying easily as you rid him of the offending material. Resting himself on his elbows, he watches as you drop the clothing off the end of the bed and lean back just enough to snake your way out of your dress. He licks his lips. Your body twists, exposing the rough curves of your hips as you shimmy to reposition yourself on the bed. The plush fat of your breast swaying, nipples flat in a way that makes him want to taste them, to feel them plump on his tongue.

Holding onto the small amount of cognition that he still possesses, he uses it to drink in the sight of you perching over his hips.

Lowering yourself onto your elbows at either side of pelvis, you feel your skin prickle under his gaze. Burning suns threaten to scorch your skin as he devours you, eyes everywhere, committing even your most unattractive details to memory. It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable and powerful, having him so captivated without even a touch. Shivering against his gaze, you dip your head and, while keeping your eyes on his, lick a long, thick stripe across the hardness straining against his boxers.

It's like he's just been shocked. Two million vaults course up through his legs with a violence that makes his eyes roll. His cock twitches, jumping against your touch even as you pull away. 'Not... Fuck, that's not fair.'

'No?' You cock your head and purse your lips, pressing the softest of kisses to his covered head.

'No: fuck.' Stretching out his shoulders, he tries to loosen the tension quickly building in his stomach. The last thing he wants is to paint the insides of his boxers and become the latest laughing stock of your friends. Clamping shut his eyes, he breathes deep, but his breathe is stolen again too soon when he feels your tongue press hard against his cock again. Reaching down, he catches hold of the front of your throat.

'That's not going to make me stop, baby.' You laugh, lowering your head again and pushing your throat against his palm. 'If anything, it's going to make me tease you more.'

The rough pads of his fingers dig in for a moment, half-crescents threatening to mark your throat as he tests his grip before releasing you. Rocking his head back onto the pillow, he feels the elastic of his boxers pull from his hips and slip until it's nestled below his balls.

As soon as it's released from its confines, Denki's cock snaps back against his stomach. It's a pretty thing. Slight in it's length, with a girth that is comfortable enough to sit perfectly in your palm and a soft rose to the skin; just looking at him makes you want to swallow him down. His head is darker, a deep red where it peaks from underneath his foreskin and weeps pearled white over his shaft where it races its way to the thick copse of dirty blonde hair that gathers around the base. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you suck ever so softly.

Denki whimpers. Reaching up, he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stem the onslaught of stimulus threatening to reduce him to a premature end. His breath stutters in his chest, caught somewhere underneath his diaphragm as he feels your tongue slip over his head and inch beneath the stretch of his foreskin.

Moaning, you bob slowly on his cock swallowing barely an inch before he's pushing his ass into the mattress and trying to scramble away.

'Shit. Hang on, hang on...' Hand shooting down, he grips the base of his cock with an almost bruising pressure while still wriggling backwards. 'Don't wanna... I don't -.' His breath comes out in pants, his chest caving in with each shaky inhale as he prays for his body not to betray him.

'Are you okay?' Wiping your lip, you sit up and cock your head. You're about to reach for him voice dripping with concern when he peaks open an eye to stare at you.

A dull laugh skips from his tongue when he takes in the confusion lacing your features, allowing him enough air to splutter out a broken: 'Was... Fuck, wasn't going to last.'

'I barely touched you -.'

'Guess I just find you that hot, huh?' With his pulse steadying, he chances a steady stroke of his cock gathering both pre-cum and spit in the twist of his fist. 'You, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?'

Settling back over his hips, you reach for the hand not wrapped around his cock and interlace your fingers before guiding him to your hip. It takes a simple hook of your finger before the heat of your cunt is exposed, underwear unceremoniously tugged aside to allow you to reposition Denki's hand beneath you. 'You have no idea, either.'

The first grind of your cunt across his knuckles has him sucking in breath. Each bone catches against your clit, coating him in your arousal as soft moans begin to leak from your mouth. It makes his stomach twist, his cock twitching in his hand as he feels your need grow large enough to match his own. 'I – I think I'm getting one.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' He swallows. The edges of his vision swim, growing blurry as he struggles to comprehend you grinding on his hand and soaking his lap. Even with the tension still around the base of his cock, he can feel it twitch in his hand, desperate to feel the sweet recess of your cunt. 'I'm... Fuck, I'm not gonna...'

You cock your head, a smile playing at your lip as he trips over his words. 'C'mon, use your words.'

Groaning, he rocks his head back on his shoulders before fixing you with a needy gaze. He speaks quickly, with barely a breath between words as if there isn't even enough time for him to finish his sentence. 'If... Fuck, if you're serious about wanting to sit on my cock, you're going to have to do it soon because just looking at you has me nearly -.'

You cut him off with a kiss. It's immediately deep, needy in its pace and leaves both of you panting when you finally pull away. Resting your nose against his, you whisper into the slither of space between you. 'You want me to fuck you, baby?'

He nods.

'Words.'

'Fuck, yeah. Yeah. I want you – shit, want you so bad.' Twisting his palm, he uses his thumb to gently tap at the hood of your clit. With each subtle moan he earns from your chest, his taps become longer, harsher, causing you to bite your lip and grind down onto him.

Nodding, you cover his hand with yours to inch him away. A smile twitches at the corner of your mouth as he whimpers, chest hollowing at the idea of being parted from you for even a moment.

Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose before reaching between your own thighs and taking hold of his cock.

He releases himself as soon as he feels your fingers close around his shaft. His cock pulses, twitching into your hold as you give him a single cursory stroke, spreading the pre-cum leaking down over his skin from tip to root. Flicking your eyes back up to his, you feel the dull thrum of arousal beating in your cunt as you watch his lips drop open even with the little friction you've allowed him. 'Look at you... You're almost as wet as me.'

A blush blooms high on his cheeks, his eyes blowing almost black; turning his eyes into a solar eclipse. His mouth moves, but the words stick in his throat – leaving nothing but a moan able to escape as he nods in agreement.

Wiggling your hips, you shift back and line him up. You're dripping, skin shining with slick as you slowly, slowly, lower yourself down onto his cock.

Immediately, his hands clamp solid around your waist. His eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering as he huffs. You feel divine, hot and wet and squeezing him so tightly that it's hard for him to focus. The edges of his vision blur, his head swimming even though you've barely taken an inch of him. 'Shit, shit... Fuck -.'

'You feel so good.' You finish his sentence for him. His cock forces you to stretch around him, opening you up as you continue to sink down onto him. It's a mild presence, but one that manages to press up on every single nerve inside of you making you want to cry out. Your thighs shake, hands reaching forward to splay over his chest to steady yourself as you finally bottom him out. The nest of blond pubic hair at his base tickles against your clit, causing you to gasp and roll your hips, searching for more.

'I -.' Trying to pull his head from the pillow, Denki stares through the haze of his eyes. 'I'm not gonna last.' His grip tightens on your waist, a new desperation crawling into his voice as he almost whispers... 'Wanna – fuck, wanna make you feel good though.'

'Yeah?' Lifting yourself, you sink back down onto him with ease and shiver against the flare of pleasure that twists your stomach up into knots.

'Please...' Denki's throat is raw, tightening around his plea.

Desperation fills his chest as he watches the point at which you're joined. His eyes fixate on it. On where your body stretches for him, cunt open and drooling as you take him with ease; the flushed bud of your clit twitching each time you manage to impale yourself just right. 'Please...' He tries again, voice still warbling. 'Please, cum on my cock. Please – I wanna, wanna see, wanna feel – please...'

You chuckle, lifting one of your hands from his wrists to stroke your knuckles down his cheek. 'Look at you, begging so pretty...'

'Please -.'

Nodding, you straighten up and roll your shoulders back. For a moment you stay still, letting the taught pleasure simmer inside you until it settles. Your cunt has slicked his skin, making the soft rose flesh shine in the low light of his bedroom. The sight does something funny to your stomach, making it twist and bubble. Clenching your hands, you beckon him to hold you.

There's something impossibly grounding about the way you lace your fingers with his. His palms face upwards, providing a platform for you to press against and he's forced to tense his biceps as you use him as leverage to bounce. 'Oh, shit.' Pleasure flares through his body like wild-fire, making him cling to your hands and his clamp shut his eyes.

'Look at me.' Your voice is soft, although, if he were to listen close, he'd be able to hear a similar desperation to the one that infests his own. 'D-Denki, look at me.'

He obeys immediately. His gaze is hazy. His focus shattered as he looks from your eyes, to your lips, to where your cunt swallows him and back again.

'Want you to watch.' You whisper, causing his eyes to widen.

Nodding, he lifts his hips, fucking up into you just enough to have you teetering on the edge of bliss. He can feel it, how close you are. It's in the tightness, in the way your cunt squeezes him and pulses. You look like a vision, your skin flushed, with sweat beginning to dew along the line of your collarbones and your eyebrows drawn up making your features stretch with pleasure. His heart stutters in his chest, betraying the swirling emotions that threaten to make this mean a whole lot more than just sex.

''m close.' You stutter over your words, so close to your own end that you can almost taste it, but it isn't until you see the soft mouthing of Kaminari's continued begging that you finally feel yourself hit free-fall. His eyes are glued to yours, making you feel observed and worshipped all at once as the entirety of your body lights up like a sparkler.

Kaminari has seen a lot of great things in his middling twenty-seven years on this planet, but watching you come undone on top of him drops itself clear at the top. Ignoring his own nearing end, he attempts to commit every inch of you to memory as he feels you tumble over the end, once and for all.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Your cunt pulses, thighs and stomach tensing violently as each wave of pleasure threatens to black out your vision. With each ebb, another dull thrust of Kaminari's cock brings back that same crashing pleasure. You're not sure if you cry out, not sure if you call his name – your ears are full of static, your eyes clouded as you remain air born into bliss.

'Did -.' Swallowing around the spit pooled in his mouth, Kaminari still can't pull his eyes away from you. 'Did I do good? Did I?'

Coming back to your body feels strange. There's a lightness in your bones and a burn in your muscles that screams satisfaction, but that still doesn't stop the fire churning in your stomach once your eyes clear enough to see him. He's close to tears, flushed and needy with his hips still grinding up unable to stop as your cunt continues to milk him. Biting into your lip, you reduce yourself to your elbows beside his head and press your chest to his. 'Cum for me... Want you to use me.'

There's no need to tell him twice. Electricity flashes in his eyes as he lifts himself enough to plant his feet square on the mattress and begin fucking up into you. It's desperate, the pace he sets, as is the series of moans that leak from his mouth as he loses himself to the feel of your cunt. 'Feels, fuck – fuck.'

'That's it, baby.' You coo, pressing an uncoordinated kiss just south of his mouth. Overstimulation bites at your insides making your stomach tense as his cock continues to press square over your G-spot, but there's no mistaking the hum of pleasure it continues to force through your body.

It takes barely a handful of stuttering thrusts before there's a gasping 'Where... Fuck, tell me where now Princess, or I'm gonna -.'

'Inside.' You moan, the idea alone making your mind reel. 'Please, fuck. Cum inside me, please.'

'Yeah...' He nods, huffing. 'Yeah, shit, okay.' His hands find their way down to the small of your back when he cums. His palms spread there, pressing down to ensure he's as deep as possible when he finally begins to fill you. Thick and white, he spills inside you, his cock pulsing as he quakes through the last of his orgasm.

Lifting your head, you blink at him as he slowly comes back to himself. There's a warmth floating in your stomach and a subtle ache in your muscles that you're sure will only feel better in the morning, but that matters a lot less when you lock eyes with him again.

He blinks, disbelief and joy mixing on his features as he mumbles: 'You let me cum inside you.'

'I did.'

'You -.'

'Yeah.'

'Holy shit.'

'You liked it?'

'No-one has never, no-one has...'

You hum and lean in to press only the softest of kisses to his cheek. ''m glad I did. You did so well...' Sitting up, you let your hands roam over your stomach and the fat that lives there. 'Filled me so good.'

Many things flicker through his mind then, none of them savoury. The way you're sat, straight with a subtle curve to your spine, makes your stomach stick out slightly. So much so, that if he where to squint and let his mind wander, he could almost believe that you were... Kaminari's cock twitches.

'Are you getting hard again?' You cock an eyebrow.

He swallows. 'Maybe?'

'Because of?..'

This time, he has the decency to blush, but he doesn't dare lie. He nods, biting down on his lower lip. 'I think I just discovered a new kink?'

'Hmm.' Purring, you rock your hips against him and feel his cock give another valiant twitch. 'Maybe you should breed me again, just to make sure it took, then?'

Kaminari short circuits. His eyes shimmer in the dark, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he tries to calm himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders just what the Hell he did to ever catch your eye.

'Would you like that?'

Sitting up, he wraps his arms around you before twisting and tossing you back to the mattress. He looms over you, an elbow beside your shoulder as his other hand travels down your body and graces the mound of your cunt to play with your clit. Lingering there for a moment, he slips lower and collects the spend that has leaked from you with his fingers before gently pushing it back inside you. 'Yeah...'

Curling his fingers, he makes you arc off the bed as he rubs at your G-spot. 'I'd like that a lot.'

Denki rubs the sleep from his eyes and yawns. There's a pleasant ache in his limbs when he stretches his arms above his head, his toes pointing underneath the duvet as he rocks his head back on his pillow.

His movement jostles you, causing you to open your eyes and squint against his smile.

'You're still here.' He beams.

You respond as if it's obvious, as if there wasn't any remote possibility of you leaving in the middle of the night. 'I am.' Wriggling closer to him, you ignore the dampness still lingering between your thighs from an entire night spent together and lift your leg over his knee.

It still feels surreal as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and uses his thumb to stroke at the skin there, carving unknowable shapes into your muscle. He's longed for this, for you, for longer than he can remember and yet, if he had only seen past his own insecurity... Who knows how long he could have indulged in your body for? How long he could have made you moan and made you breakfast and seen what you looked like at seven in the morning when the sun was in your eyes?

'So, do you believe me now?' You blink at him and smile, resting your head against the turn of his collarbone.

'What?'

Running a finger down the cleft of his chest, you tap out a tune against his sternum. 'That I only want you, silly.'

There's no evidence of yesterday's former ignorance lingering on his features when he stares back at you, only the something close to happiness and the faint shimmer of mischief. 'Eh...' Taking your hand from his chest, he lifts it to his mouth and presses a series of kisses across your knuckles.

The gesture makes you giggle, but before you can lose yourself to his sweetness, he's twisting your hand and pressing your palm to his skin once more. You let him guide you, letting him encourage you down over his chest and past his stomach. You let him push onward, even when you already know exactly where he's heading.

'I think I might need more evidence.' He mumbles as your fingers slip through his pubic hair and make his skin tingle. Already his cock his half hard and swelling fast, just at the mere thought of your hand wrapping around it.

'Yeah, you think so, huh?' Biting your lip, you wait until the breath catches in the back of his throat to stop his onward march.

He swallows.

Sitting up on an elbow, you tilt your head and press a kiss to his mouth, before whispering against his lips. 'Then, maybe my mouth will be better at convincing you...'

-> Masterlist

[look-at-the-soul]

Hi! I'm new to the Peaky fandom and am in need of some Tommy fics because he's my favourite character! If your requests are open, (if not, there's no rush!) may I pretty please have a drabble or imagine -- whatever is easier -- with this gif?

*A little spice is okay, just nothing explicit. Also, my pronouns are she/her, but a gender neutral story is totally okay, too! :)

Thank you in advance!

Hello Jessyca! 🥰 Thank you so much for sending this gif!! I decided to make it part of Adele challenge using one of my favorite songs! (Lyrics in italics) 🔥🥰 edit and welcome to the fandom!! 🥰 I forgot to reply this sorry! I hope so far you’ve found incredible stories and lovely mutuals around (I’m always reblogging stories I really enjoy reading 💖)

🔥🔥🔥although the gif is extra hot, you’ll find nothing but fluffiness in this little story…

Women like me

By the corner of your eye, you found Mr. Shelby trying to catch his breath. Resting on his back against the pillows, he was looking at the ceiling completely lost in his own thoughts, his thumb rubbing absently between his brows.

You're driving me away, give me a reason to stay

I want to be lost in you, but not in this way

Don't think you quite understand who you have on your hands

How can you not see just how good for you I am?

In silence you started the same routine you knew by heart now; get up, get dressed and sneak out of his bedroom in silence, head down.

Ah, yes you were almost forgetting about his generous payment in between.

I know that you've been hurt before, that's why you feel so insecure

I begged you to let me in, 'cause I only want to be the cure

You could still feel his seed dripping down your legs, but tried to pick up your clothes scattered on the floor as gracefully as you could to get dress in the corner.

You’d been serving him for several months now, rumor has it Lizzie Stark wasn’t his mistress anymore because she got pregnant, so that was your job now; being Thomas Shelby’s whore.

Complacency is the worst trait to have, are you crazy?

You ain't never had, ain't never had a woman like me

But tonight there was something different, out of place. Mr. Shelby was still in the same position, his chest was now moving at a more normal pace. Looking at the floor, you felt embarrassed to ask for the money so you decided to pretend to fix your hair to see if he got the hint.

But he didn’t.

So after he longest seconds of your life, you decided to walk out without anything, feeling disappointed because you really needed to money to support your family. Perhaps he’d pay you double the next time, you thought to yourself but as you reached the door, his voice stopped you.

All you do is complain about decisions you make

“Y/N…” Your mouth hang open, surprised to hear him say your name.

“Is there a chance for you to stay all night?”

“I-I don’t know Mr. Shelby.” You stammered nervously, the instructions were clear; let him do whatever he wants, pick up your stuff and leave.

“You can call me Tommy… is there somewhere you need to go?”

Your eyes found his briefly, but you instantly dragged them down. “No, it’s just I’m not supposed to stay for the night.” You answered in a low voice.

“Why not?”

Feeling more embarrassed than ever, you didn’t want to point out the obvious, but as his intense blue eyes stared at you, you didn’t have another choice.

“Sir-Tommy,” you corrected yourself, “I’m just a whore.”

We come from the same place, but you will never give it up

It's where they make you feel powerful

That's why you think I make you feel small

But that's your projection, it's not my rejection

You knew that’s what you were, anyone could tell without even knowing you. But calling yourself that, hit you differently.

“Come here,” he extended his hand at you, and you didn’t have any other choice but take it and climb into bed again. “How long have you been coming here?”

“Six months.”

I put my heart on the line for the very first time

Because you asked me to, and now you've gone and changed your mind

But loving you was a breakthrough

You saw his head moving up and down slowly, but he was still oddly quiet.

He was still trying to organize the thoughts inside his mind as he saw you absently picking on your stockings. How could he put into words the way he felt about you?

“Y/N over the last couple of months, you’ve been the only one willing to spend some time with me, when everyone else finds an excuse to walk out the door, you’ve been the constant of my days, or nights for the matter.”

I saw what my heart can really do

Now some other man will get the love I have for you

'Cause you don't care, oh-oh-oh

Was he going to ask you to stop coming every night? You couldn’t speak, terrified of saying something that would piss him off. You had fallen for him secretly, blame it to the intimacy, the frequent late night calls, the way please took over him, but you did and deep down you knew it was all wrong.

“You’re not like the others, you don’t take and leave. You fill my glass with whiskey before you go or you pick up my clothes and fold them… you’ve listened to all my shit without judging me.”

Confused, you gave him a long look. “Tommy, what are you try-”

“I’ve feelings for you, Y/N.”

“That can’t be true, I’m a whore… men like you don’t fall in love with women like me.”

Consistency is the gift to give for free, and it is key

To ever keep, to ever keep a woman like me

“Women like you?” He was suddenly kneeling in bed in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks. “Who says that?”

“Everybody knows that.”

This was just a fantasy, a dream. You were worthless, the worst of the worst.

“Just so you to know, I’m not so different than you… we just sell different parts of ourselves, Y/N.”

His eyes fixed on you, his intense gaze penetrating every layer, tearing down every single wall. And as he realized your guard was coming down, he pulled you in for a kiss, breaking the only rule you set when you first walked into his bedroom; no kissing.

That first kiss felt totally different to anything you’ve experienced until now, because men usually take what they want and leave right away, but Tommy took his time to explore your lips, the way they molded to his, tentatively, switching his pace and tilting his head from time to time as if he didn’t want to leave a single spot unattended.

He broke apart allowing you to take a deep breath, your head was spinning.

“Beneath, there’s a good woman, I just know it.” His knuckles carefully caressed your chin. You wanted to believe him, but you had been used in the past you no longer knew who you were.

He saw the hesitation in your eyes, so he took your hand and placed it over his heart. “Y/N I’m not going to hurt you, I genuinely fell for you, for he woman you are, for the little things I know about you… for the way you allowed me to be myself when the door is closed.”

He had been fighting it for so long, but with you he was allowed to strip down not only from his clothes, but from the heartless cold bastard he had to be in front of everyone else.

“Will you give me the chance?”

Looking down you fought against the lump that formed in your throat. “But how will you deal with my past and all the burden I’ve?”

“I’m not going to erase it, just like you can’t delete mine,” his fingers sunk in your disheveled curls, “but we can look forward and take it from there, together.”

As a single tear slid through your cheek, his thumb came to wipe it away, right before he crashed his lips once more and you believed him with all your heart because deep down you knew he was right.

A woman like you wasn’t so different than a man like him.

***

Master list

A/N: I’ve had this idea for a while now, guess it was time to post it, and I apologize because although I absolutely adore the concept I have been feeling a bit down and I’m not sure I was able to portray what I intended to…

Like always I’m so grateful if you decide to share your thoughts x

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @rangerelik @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya (can’t tag) @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989

[variousqueerthings]

omg dude (gn) you got into due south? I've followed you for a long time bc mash, I love it when people I know from other fandoms get into my most beloved stuff <3 check out @ds30below btw if you're interested, it's an anniversary fest I run with a lof of fun stuff etc etc! and have funnnnn it's such a great show!

helloooooooo

yes, a bunch of mutuals have been going wild over it for a hot sec and it was Time!

I'm on episode 3 (not counting the pilot) and I have a lot of initial Thoughts to bring over from the discord onto this illustrious site, so i will use this ask as An Excuse:

Frasier is really introduced as an Archetype of masculinity, which is almost immediately subverted by his being completely without machismo -- his machismo is so in the negative that he goes around and becomes this Ideal of masculinity instead

the fact that his ethos is kindness, but it's not necessarily guileless. it is selfless in that he's not necessarily expecting to get returns on it all the time, but it's also -- to him -- often truly the most effective means to an end: if you're kind to others, people will often become kinder. this can be useful in the shortterm (if you give this kid a nice sandwich and don't threaten him with jail time and help him out a bit, he'll try to help with a case...) and in the longterm (this kid will stay in school and have a better future ahead of him, hopefully)

(i will get to ray btw, need to just get all the frasier thoughts out first)

frasier really embodies autistic swag. he takes things incredibly literally, he follows scripts (in this case, The Mountie Script, and also within that some kinda Code Of Gallantry), he's an incredible people-reader of the "autistic savant" type arguably (except there's more to him so the savant trope doesn't quite hold, which is good), his relationship with his dog Diefenbaker, the fact that although he is nigh-effortlessly kind of charming (because he's clark kent vibes!!! he's charming in a way as if he stepped out of a novel set 100 years ago in which kissing women's hands was the norm) he doesn't really make close friendships easily, because there's an Otherness to him that keeps him at a distance to others (except ray. WE WILL GET TO RAY STAY TUNED)

speaking of Distance, a lot of the aroaceness i've read into him so far (and we're literally only three episodes in!!!) really does feel like his autism is triggered by come-ons in the "this is not in my script!" kind of way. his charm is tripped up by the obvious step of "charming man is charming, I will shoot my shot," it's happened several times and every time he tries to extricate himself in the most awkward way possible. can't go on a date, you see. i have.. a dog. and no phone. um. ok. bye.

lot of thoughts on his hero-worship of his absent father and how much of his script comes from wanting to make his father proud

frasier also tastes things a lot of the time and ray thinks it's gross and i think that's something too. the doctor (doctor who) autism coded

OKAY TIME FOR RAY

he reminds me. of gonzo. he has the same transmasc swag. as gonzo. his shirts. his ties. that fuckn. OVERSIZED SO OVERSIZED MASSIVE STUPID JACKET. he's transmasc swag/fail coded in the same way as gonzo. he is gonzo

ray spends so much time in the beginning admonishing frasier for his consistent kindness to others, and the thing is. The Thing Is. he met frasier and (barring the immediate impression) decided to nearly immediately invite him to a massive family dinner. then he saved him from a bomb and got himself hospitalised. then he followed him to canada to help him. and that's only in the pilot! ray is so kind to frasier constantly. he's such an abrasive man to pretty much everyone except to frasier from day one

when frasier asked him to get a special pass for his wolf and at the end of the episode he did, and frasier was like: "i only asked you once and you got it 🥺" "of course i did, you asked me for it 😍"

just. nigh. constantly. kind. to. him. currently frasier's in hospital because he got stabbed and we had ray running to see him, forcing his way into his room, comforting him, sir you make fun of the way all the girls fall at his feet (and how frasier never notices) I think you are one of the girls!

MY MAN GOT HIM FLOWERS WHILE HE WAS IN HOSPITAL JUST BECAUSE??????? SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (he also makes him take aspirin, he's giving real caretaker in this episode)

so far we know less about ray than about frasier, but im glad the show has him be mouthy, sarcastic, pessimistic, but he's not cruel or callous -- arguably he wants frasier in his life in order to challenge him on his cynical worldview, he's nourished and inspired by frasier's approach towards the world as much as everyone else

misc: I really like that the world being presented isn't necessarily kind, but the main characters (ray learning to be softer via frasier) are kind as a response. it's got some Coolness Factor Shorthand stuff going on ofc, but it is fundamentally a story about facing a relatively realistic world with kindness in order to make it better

I'm sad eric schweig was only in the pilot but the main thrust of the show does take place in chicago i guuuuuuuesss. his role in that pilot was great though, a lot of interesting stuff about taking away frasier's rose-coloured lens of the world, and especially canada, but he also gets what's his at the end, so he's not just there to "offer advice" (although there is a bit of that trope for sure, especially as he doesn't seem to have a name). great character, if I write fic where they go to canada he's definitely gonna be in there!

me and @gjdraws were talking about how ray clearly likes spoiling frasier -- he's the one with the money, he gets him the wolf licence, brings him flowers in hospital, carries aspirin for him.... I'm just saying we were robbed of a "ray takes frasier shopping and there's a montage" bit, considering how frasier only has two fuckn outfits in the first few episodes. who took him shopping??? there's no way he went on his own steam. that was ray all the way! private runway show

[accio-victuuri]

(13) Fake Rumors - from the vault

I have been going through some old rumors from the fake house & decided to share some. whether these may be new to you or not, but i hope you still enjoy them as much as I did looking back. I feel like in the fandom, we’ve only ever been active when it comes to lrlg and the 49 fakes. the rest of the information that fall in between aren’t as talked about or depends on the topic. as with all other bjyx material, i want a place to store some parts of it. 🤍

these are sort of random, the ones that I had saved and found again. treat it all as fiction.

( someone please make an AU fic or edit for this xz and wyb. there is a story here. look at them. 😍😍😍 )

i have traveled a long way, you have dreamed a long time. many lonely nights drift like fallen leaves but it always finds a way….🍃🍂

(1) this one was posted for the new year 🎉

XZ: Get me a courier later

🧔‍♂️:Okay

====

🧔‍♂️:What is it? It’s so light

XZ: made-up parts, Legos.

*XZ talking to a staff so he can send out some lego parts. I think it’s light because what he is sending are “parts” that WYB is missing and he found them for him. I truly like the idea of XZ spoiling WYB when it comes to his hobbies and him being invested in it too even if he isn’t necessarily a fan too. true love! and well, reminded me of the rumored lego set gift during the early days of cql filming.

(2) have you eaten?

About the backstage live broadcast of a recent event on the same stage

WYB:Have you eaten yet?

XZ: *shakes head*

WYB: Come have dinner with me later

XZ: Who else? (Looking over it, I don’t know what I’m looking for)

WYB: Stop looking for it. I’ll send it to you next time.

Supplement: Teacher W watched Teacher X take off his makeup before leaving together.

*The usual WYB making sure that XZ eats and him waiting for his gege so they can eat with each other. Even after the CQL filming, as long as they are at the same event they will try and be together. Tho instances of that have been so rare to 0 nowadays because of the amount of eyes on them.

(3) the forbidden book lol

The crew's study period

WYB: Where is the erotic book? I want to read it.

XZ: Suddenly got up and left.

*This is one of my faves even if it’s so short! Library Pavilion behind the scenes & rumors is the gift that keeps on giving. I wouldn’t put it pass WYB to troll ZZ with this.

Here’s a GIF for you to bring you back to that time🤍

(4) call me maybe? 📱

There was a period last year where everyone had to learn rap, usually🐂 learned the fastest but he was absent-minded that time🐂 was looking at us eating delicious food while resting, it seems that he is thinking his rap, he seemed to be even more tired. At this time, staff handed over the phone and he left immediately to pick it up.

He called him, and when he came back he didn't have any special expression, but he felt refreshed. 

(5) praising

WYB: I really like to be praised by everyone and feel "wow" from everyone, so every time Da Zhen's family praises me crazily, I will secretly write it down and send it to him.

XZ: I am also a part-time praise captain. Every time I praise,None of them are the same.He can often keep up with the facts.

WYB: I don’t understand a lot of Internet slang.

XZ: I always hurt him by saying, "No, you don't even know this joke, so WYB doesn't go online?" Just. very good. Laughing, every time I feel hurt, I secretly say "He is better than me. I'm young, I know everything." What kind of tone is this? One time during a video, XZ sang "Darling, come and save me." Seeing WYB's ears slowly become red and coughed. Who can tell me what’s going on with these lyrics?

(6) baking shenanigans

The puff pastry made by XZ is very delicious, WYB will also work with XZ to help when he has time. He’s busy getting started, and they will also do some weird things. If there is a strange taste, try it with the people around you.

Once WYB squeezed minced garlic into the pastry and mixed chili powder, but forgot to mark it, XZ ate it, pinched the back of the neck and squeezed the flesh of the face "Teacher Trained WYB”

*IM CACKLING AT THIS OMG WYB 😂😂😂 what flavor of pastry is that????

(7) another one about eating

Aling period

WYB: Why are you back?

XZ: Come back for dinner, there will be a show in the afternoon

WYB: Aren’t you going to eat with your friends?

XZ: I didn’t agree when someone wanted to invite me, it was too stupid.

WYB: xls It’s so difficult to eat normally today

XZ: You haven’t eaten it, have you?

WYB: Nope. I just thought you were back.

(8) checking the weather

XZ: “The weather doesn’t look like it’s going to rain...(Look 📱)

👤: "It should be sunny..."

XZ: “I just saw📱the weather forecast showed it’s going to rain soon.

👤: How is that possible? It’s obviously sunny. "(春📱)

XZ: "Huh?" (👤♥Two people facing each other📱)

XZ: Overcast to light rain to moderate rain.

👤: What you are looking at is the weather

XZ: Oh my God, so embarrassing...

XZ forgot to switch cities. no one will know the city WYB was in that day if I don’t tell you.

*This one hits different cause for this rumor, they are in different cities but in the same country. Lately, there are times that they are in diff countries so do they look at the weather their too? 🥹🥹🥹

I can’t relate to their obsession with the weather, but if that gives them a sense of connection to each other then it’s fine.

(9) raining

💚Supplement: It’s when the temperature gradually rises. At that time, it rained in June.

💚Holding an umbrella💚❤️talking all the way

❤️Start standing on the right side of 💚

💚Hold the umbrella and tilt it in the direction of ❤️

❤️Thick clothes💚Left half of light-colored thin clothes

The edges are wet and very transparent.

❤️Just keep pushing the umbrella in the direction of 💚

I wanted to block 💚 a little more, but found it was fine.

After seeing the effect, I found an opportunity to move it to the left side of 💚

Then 💚 the right half also got wet

Both centered and symmetrical….…..

(10) them and their parents.

Regarding their parents, I currently know the older one’s mom and dad can also surf the internet, and talk about about their CP and their impression of WYB is good. But his mother actually really wants to have a grandchild. His father is very indifferent when the older one comes home. I'm sure his mother won't be able to bear it. She asked him bluntly, the older ones always focus on work to fool her in the past. In July this year not only did he tell the truth to his family but took the younger one back with him.

It’s time for dinner at home, and the younger one is very nervous. He is afraid that the family will think he is not good enough. He bought a lot of things and piled them up for backup. He sprayed perfume and dressed properly and pretended. The older one made him want to laugh when he looks at him, just fool around. The younger one calls him a big bastard.

The mother on the table was holding jianguo and said she could only count on her to give birth to a litter of grandsons.

* I know that talk about their parents is sensitive and would always lead to more discussion, but again, treat this as fiction. and tbh, who could resist WYB as a son in law??? It I had a son and he brings home WYB as a boyfriend I will be very happy. I also feel soft that XZ is trying to tease and make WYB laugh.

(11)

What happened last year

WYB: Is it delicious?

XZ: (nodding while eating) Yeah, it’s quite delicious.

WYB: What about others?

XZ: Wait a minute...Wow, I just ate that, this one has no taste.

WYB: Is it too spicy?

XZ: It’s okay, but my tongue is numb and I can’t taste other flavors.

WYB: Wait a minute, drink some water. Is it really that spicy?

XZ: Try it yourself. You didn't keep it for yourself? Wasn't it sent from you?

WYB: I didn't take it apart. Bring it to me.

Then XZ really ate so much that he left two packets and took them back to WYB.

(You send it to me and I will bring it back to you. What kind of trick is this?)

What happened this year

XZ: It’s been too cold these two days.

👤: Southern kids.

XZ: :Then northerners also feel cold. Cold is cold.

(Okay, I know you have northerners in your family, next one)

👤When teasing XZ and WYB, XZ’s response was, “Hahaha” and send out red envelopes. As expected of Boss XZ.

I saw other people's submissions and came to do some post-sale service. I heard that XZ sang to put WYB to sleep. I know that there is indeed mmxhn, and there is a six-character song related to snow. (There are probably others somewhere that I don’t know about)

(12) like a fairy

XXX was wearing Iwj's white clothes for the first time

XX: Fairy, descended to earth to overcome the tribulation

XXX: Isn’t fairy a dog? You have so much information but no good words.

XX: Compliment you for being good-looking and handsome.wls, wow, so handsome!

XXX: xls looks better than me, our xls is so beautiful, ancestor of Yiling

XX: Stop, stop, it’s so shameful

*My favorite kind of rumor is when WYB goes gremlin on XZ! 😂😂😂😂

(13) cravings

WYB has been craving for "cai cai rice" recently, XZ told him many times that spring is not so good to have wild vegetables, even if they are cooked. WYB said he doesn’t care about wild vegetables he just wants to eat the vegetable rice cooked by XZ, but I don’t have that. It smells good, I just want to eat it.

In the end, he still didn’t get the cabbage meal, but freshly baked dumplings. WYB got a bargain and acted nice, he was acting coquettishly while eating.

* Oh to be WYB and have someone like XZ cook for youuuu 😍😍😍😍

-END.

P.S : this ye mi and xiao zhan AU pairing is living in my mind rent free. 🥵🥵🥵

[lovelaurs]

my own silly mystreet characters headcanon list!

aphmau:

has the worst "hear me out" takes you'll ever hear. like seriously. she can very much point to a yield sign and say "would" to everyone's dismay.

knows every line in moulin rouge as she is OBSESSED with the film. she and laurance preform the elephant medley as dramaticly as possible whenever they watch it for movie night.

obsessed with pre-endgame marvel movies.

ao3 writer! she writes fics for the nichest of fandoms, so she doesn't get that many reads.

one of the few reliable booktok users you can TRUST will give you a good recommendation to read!

garroth:

obsessed with the movie megamind. like seriously. will talk to you for hours on and WILL defend the "sequel movie" and show because, in fact, they are NOT that bad.

can infodump about a topic he's interested in for hours on end.

actually really smart and kind, but ever since he found out he made zane insecure he tries to tone it down. he used to show off a lot but wants to make sure his brother shines as well.

carries stress balls on him so he doesn't use his strength unnecessarily.

always organizes group movie nights with all his friends.

laurance:

loves to listen to and read AITA (am i the asshole?) reddit posts when bored.

an amazing listener, will listen to someone for hours on end and provide insight when needed (perfect for having a conversation with garroth).

loves gossiping. he has really good hearing so he tends to hear others share secrets nearby. he's like the wine aunt you just KNOW has the most interesting stories to tell.

likes to go on vacations a lot, explaining why he is absent sometimes during big group events.

he sometimes returns home to his family farm to take care of it when his parents are out of town.

he often voluntarily babysits caleb to impress aphmau and garroth with his caretaker skills (he's a showoff).

katelyn:

she loves the show big time rush and watches it in her freetime.

OBSESSED with musical theatre and visits broadway shows often. if the friends she brought along even DARE to suggest skipping the stagedoor? they receive a glare that could kill thousands.

adores singing and often sings in her room when the others aren't home.

continues to play volleyball with her friends after a long day of work (she's a freelance writer).

her music taste can range from alternative music like waterparks to kpop groups like red velvet!

KC:

an ao3 writer as well! she and Aphmau gift eachother fics from time to time! she mostly writes x reader fics for tumblr sexyman.

has taken a liking to cooking outside of baking! she especially likes to grill! she even wears an apron that says "kiss the cook" as well as a hat that says "fish fear me women love me".

watches any and all trending animated shows like tangled the series, adventure time, avatar, etc.

has her own tumblr blog where she writes reviews on shows and posts art! her page is quite popular.

dresses in mainly lolita fashion! she has a flare for the beauty of style and loves to recommend people styles and outfits whenever they go out shopping!

travis:

calls katelyn, zane, and dante hot nonchalantly

has attempted.

dante:

loves to bake and nana teaches him all kinds of recipes to make. he supplies the snacks at movie night.

takes taekwondo lessons. "can never be too careful" he says while living in a pretty standard upper middle class neighborhood. why is he like this.

works at a pet shelter and takes care of the dogs and cats left behind. he adopts any that have been there for years, thus making his house full of many different pets.

the designated driver for whenever they go out to clubs. he doesn't like to drink so he usually takes everyone home by the end of the night.

travis (the actual headcanons):

actually respects others and doesn't harass them like he did early on (that was a weird trope and i HATED it). he's just a flirt and if someone he flirts with flirts back he gets all flustered.

the group gamer. spends hours grinding on all sorts of games just to brag about it on his steam profile. specifically a fan of the spider-man games on playstation.

loves to cosplay! he, aphmau, and nana go to lots of conventions together in group cosplay. their last one was the powerpuff girls! they dragged garroth along and made him mojo jojo.

can recite everything and anything about the ninjago lore. this man is obsessed with any lego product or franchise and has many sets built in his room.

practices talking to himself in the mirror every morning to give him confidence. he has very low self esteem.

aaron:

dream stan.

probably friends with dream.

uhhhh idk probably streams the song "mask" by dream.

minecraft streamer.

dream.

those are all my headcanons! i hope you enjoyed! (slandering mystreet aaron is a passion of mine i'm sorry)

[veliseraptor]

Top five spiciest untamed opinions!

man, I've been in my own little corner of fandom for long enough that I feel like I struggle a little to parse what is spicy of my opinions and what isn't, but here's a go at it

The Untamed is a show with complex, morally grey characters that's telling a slightly different but not inherently inferior story. Maybe I'm just a bit defensive about this, and I have with time come to appreciate a lot of things about the novel over the way they play out in the show, but The Untamed was the first version of the story that I fell in love with and I think at least some of the criticisms of it overstate the degree to which it morally simplifies the story. I think, whether because of requirements of censorship or other reasons, that the moral messiness of the story is subtler, I don't think it's absent, and while Jin Guangyao in particular falls victim to a pretty intense villain edit the narrative still has plenty of sympathy for him (even if the audience, all too often, does not). I think it's telling a slightly different story (as others have discussed), but I think it's a strong adaptation that still works with the underlying themes of the text.

However, that being said, The lessening of Wei Wuxian's culpability, as in the introduction of the second flautist, weakens his character. I feel like the character of Wei Wuxian as we see him in The Untamed still has the recognizable flaws of the character from the novel - I think the degree to which they're sometimes claimed to be toned down is overstated, which I think I've written some about before. He's still at least a little arrogant, causes problems, has a definite temper, and doesn't always respect other peoples' choices, among other things. But what The Untamed does do is remove some of his culpability, or at least temper it - both for Jin Zixuan's death and the massacre at Nightless City, which are two moments that contribute to a strong tragic arc in the first life, which makes for a more powerful (imo) arc in the second life. Removing, or at least lessening, Wei Wuxian's culpability for Jin Zixuan's death and Jiang Yanli's death makes him more a victim of circumstance than of his own human flaws, and at least for me, a character who is doomed by their own flaws is a far more compelling one than one who just happens to fall victim to outside forces. It makes him, I would argue, more passive and less of an active force, and I think the culpability for those two deaths - and the loss of control that causes it - makes for a more powerful narrative than that of a man who is victimized by someone else's actions.

Jin Guangyao was a good Chief Cultivator. I see people talk about him as though he was corrupt and evil and just plotting all the time, but the Bad Things™ he does mostly happen before his tenure as Chief Cultivator and, even taking those into account, have a limited impact on the world at large (with the exception of Nie Mingjue's death, but even that I would argue has more personal repercussions than broader political ones). As far as his responsibility for the cultivation world at large, we have no evidence prior to his downfall that he is negatively perceived by people, except for the fact of his birth/origins.

this is more MDZS-related than Untamed specific, but: MXTX deserves praise for writing "problematic" and messy queer sex, but it's just not hot. I don't have a whole lot to add on this one, but one of my least favorite parts of some corners of The Untamed fandom are people who are thoroughgoing MXTX antis who are quick to cry about the ~problematic~ aspects of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian's sex life (which, honestly, I think are overstated a lot of the time, as is the weirdness of the sex scenes); however, in my opinion, the sex scenes as they stand just aren't very sexy, and I don't think that's intentional (as it arguably is in SVSSS). The sex scenes may be a shortcoming in the text, perhaps, but not the one certain people think it is.

this is again a stronger argument in the novel but I think it's present in the show as well: Jin Guangyao and Wei Wuxian are "there but for the grace of god" foils, but not in the sense of Jin Guangyao being "Wei Wuxian if he made bad moral choices" but in the sense of "who Wei Wuxian could've been if his circumstances were different." I've definitely written about this before and how much it drives me nuts the way people treat narrative foils in this story in general as Goofus and Gallant style duos, but this is a specific one. I think Jin Guangyao is an example of a story that runs alongside Wei Wuxian's, but ends in a different place, and I think the story isn't saying that he ends in that place because of something inherently worse about Jin Guangyao, but because of the way his circumstances happen to diverge from Wei Wuxian's in specific key ways. In some ways his ending is even a near beat-for-beat rewrite of Wei Wuxian's death, and Wei Wuxian receives the grace of a second life not because of any inherent merit, but actually because of his bad reputation. I think this goes for Xue Yang, too, actually.

I absolutely know I'm forgetting things and there are probably things back in my bitchy opinions tag that I could dig out, but here's at least a few that came to mind.

[extasiswings]

when the light turns

I still can’t quite believe that 6x12 actually happened/wasn’t some sort of fandom-wide fever dream, but anyway, I was in my Eddie feels so have an interlude fic. 

Buck is asleep.

It brings Eddie up short at first, followed by a wave of fond exasperation.  He takes a swig from one of the open beers in his hands as he looks away, then back again.

Buck is asleep.

That time, the thought rocks him to his core.

He was only out of the room, what?  A minute?  Two?  And yet, that was enough time for Buck to crash so thoroughly that Eddie’s not convinced an explosion would wake him.

On his couch.  In his home.  

Eddie swallows hard around a sudden lump in his throat.

The way Buck looked when he arrived…his eyes were haunted, hunted, exhaustion written across his face and hanging from every line of his body—

Eddie remembers what that’s like.  He remembers all too well the feeling of lying awake staring at the ceiling, unable to quiet his mind, unable to settle, unable to get comfortable, just going and going and going until his body either physically shut down or he managed to relocate somewhere that seemed safe enough that he could rest.

And Buck—Buck came to him.  

He hadn’t expected it.  Hoped, yes.  When Maddie called him and asked him to check on Buck, he hadn’t said no outright, but hadn’t said yes either.  I’ll think about it seemed to strike the appropriate balance between agreeing against his better instincts or having to explain himself to someone who, while he likes her, he doesn’t really know well at all.

And there was also the part where he hadn’t wanted to put his foot in his mouth by admitting that he wasn’t sure her plan was what Buck needed.

He took a different path.  Held back.  Gave Buck space, even if it killed him to do it.  And he hoped that if he just waited patiently, Buck would come to him when he was ready.

He’s never been so glad to have been right.

Eddie takes another drink and looks away again, thinking absently that he should put the second beer back in the fridge, maybe go find Buck a blanket, do anything other than standing there.  But his eyes drift back to Buck as if pulled by a force beyond his control.  They track over Buck’s face, the scruff on his jaw, the rise and fall of his chest—

When Buck was in the hospital, Eddie couldn’t look.  He couldn’t make himself do it, not even knowing that any moment could be the last.  He couldn’t look at Buck hooked up to machines, with a tube in his throat, half a corpse.  He couldn’t face that without shattering.

He’s had plenty of other moments in the past where he couldn’t look either.  Because Buck—god, sometimes he shines so bright, burns so fiercely with warmth and light and life that it’s like looking at the sun.  In those moments, Eddie can’t look directly at him for too long without being afraid of getting seared.

Now though…he can’t seem to look away.  Buck’s usual light has dimmed enough in sleep that he seems…real.  Human.  Touchable.  It makes Eddie’s heart thud in his chest, a wild leap that steals his breath.

He aches.  But it’s not a bad kind of pain, not the sharp slash of terror or the deep, bloody torment of grief.  It’s gentle, like pressing a bruise, the subtle ache of healing.

Or of yearning.

Eddie’s breath shudders out of him in a long, shaky gust.  His fingers curl harder around the beer bottles in his hands, a reminder to himself that they’re already occupied, that he can’t reach out and touch no matter how soft, how approachable Buck may seem.  

There’s a space next to Buck on the couch.  Buck’s arm stretches out along the back of it, and it would be so easy to just sit down, settle into that space.  It would be so simple.  A few steps, a bend of his knees, and Eddie could fit himself right there, into the curve of Buck’s side, press into his warmth and let it chase away the rest of the lingering chill of the hospital.

Easy.

But Eddie doesn’t.  Can’t.

He’s not for you, Eddie scolds himself.  Not like that.

Because Buck will come back from this.  He’ll find his light again, and then he’ll find peace, find ease on some other couch, in some other house, with someone else, someone equally bright who isn’t afraid to love him.  He’ll return to being too much to look at, untouchable, and Eddie will be able to get a grip on himself, find the control that he left on a street somewhere in the dark and pouring rain.

He drinks.  He aches.  He looks.

He should walk away, but can’t seem to get his feet to move.

Not yet.  Not yet.

A line of poetry whispers through his mind as he stops himself from reaching out yet again, something he read years ago that always twists his chest.

Te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras, secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

But Buck is all fire and sunlight.  Even at his darkest and most destructive, he never fully loses that spark.

He is not a dark thing.  And he deserves to be loved in the light.  Openly.  Visibly.  Explicitly.  Which…simply isn’t something Eddie thinks he’s capable of giving him.

But, oh.  He aches.

Eddie isn’t sure how long he stands there watching Buck sleep, but it’s long enough to finish both of the beers he brought out.

And then, after one last breath, one last look, he finally unsticks his feet and slips back into the shadows of the kitchen.      

[the-blue-eyed-firebender]

Just a lil Royai fic rec.

I'm new to the FMA fandom, but these two now live in my head rent-free. And so do these fics. Enjoy!

Catharsis by kekkubean

Rating: M

Word count: 5K

Summary: She knew better. And now a little girl was dead because she wanted to believe that her father’s behavior existed in a vacuum.

Or,

When Riza learns of the Tucker incident, she doesn't handle it well.

Excerpt: At her feet, Hayate whined, she imagined disapprovingly. It was definitely too early to be drinking, although thankfully she skipped training him on understanding the appropriate hours for alcohol consumption. Riza met his gaze and they regarded each other for a moment as the burning subsided slowly. Hayate cocked his head to the side, curious, and whined again softly, as if he could read her wretched mind.

She briefly, morbidly wondered if Alexander and Nina shared thoughts, or if one of their minds dominated the other in that body, or if it were an entirely new—

Riza slammed her palms on the table, instantly suppressing the thought, and abruptly pushed herself up to standing. Hayate jumped and slinked off into her bedroom. She stood swaying for a moment, trying to gain her balance and some semblance of her sanity.

My thoughts: This one is canon to me. I can offer no higher praise for a fic. Before reading this, I never considered how Nina's fate might affect Riza, but it just makes so much damn sense. The way kekkubean writes trauma is blade-sharp. And the pacing, the dialogue, the characterization - exquisite.

Anytime by myrhymesarepurer

Rating: G

Word count: 838

Summary: It was not his Captain standing there in front of him. It was his master's daughter, so brutally burdened with ink, secrets so cruelly exposed to the world by one blasted broken zipper. 

Excerpt: She lifted her head and blinked, feeling a great bit foolish that she stood in front of her superior, tortured over an issue  he managed to solve in,  oh,  less than one second.

How very Roy Mustang.

My thoughts: I've read this so many times. It's one of the first I read in this fandom, and I keep coming back to it. It's short, poetically formatted, and utterly perfect in it's simplicity.

Beautiful People by That Hoopy Frood

Rating: T

Word count: 6.4K

Summary: Soon after the conclusion of the Ishvalan Civil War, Captain Maes Hughes receives a phone call in the middle of the night. The message is short, concise... and perhaps the most terrifying thing Hughes has ever heard.

Hawkeye's apartment. Now. Come alone. Someone has been hurt.

A promise was once made amidst the sands of a distant desert land: oaths will be upheld, and secrets will be scorched away. The sinful had waited too long; Roy Mustang was indebted to his promise, and Riza Hawkeye had come to collect.

Shut the door; it's starting to rain.

Excerpt: "You asked her to follow you… she would have walked over burning coals for you…" Hughes felt hot, angry tears running down his face. His glasses fogged. His voice cracked. "You were supposed to fall in love with her, Roy! You were supposed to marry her and have kids and be just be happy for once in your goddamned miserable life… now look what you've done. Look at what you've done."

My thoughts: Riza's back-burning is one of the most starkly absent scenes from the FMA canon. The scene has been written and rewritten in fanfiction many times, but this particular fic fills the gap in a way that is just perfectly brutal and raw. The addition of Hughes' presence makes the whole thing cut like a knife. Like Catharsis, this one is canon in my mind.

And now, a shameless plug:

The Counteroffer by theblueeyedfirebender

Rating: T

Word count: 2.6K

Summary: On the eve of Mustang’s inauguration as Fuhrer, Riza Hawkeye submits her resignation.

Excerpt: He pulls a manila envelope from the drawer and stands, sliding it across the surface of the desk in her direction. Her gaze falls to the hand he’s extended, long fingers and pale skin, the lingering scar of a transmutation circle still faintly visible, crosswise marred by another, thicker scar, twin to one on his other hand.  

Something snags in her throat, but she swallows it down and picks up the envelope. It’s thin, like it contains nothing at all. “What is this, sir?” 

For a moment, he doesn’t answer, as if the routine honorific has stuck him somewhere unexpected. When he speaks again, his voice is thick. “A counteroffer.” 

My thoughts: My first-ever FMA fic, complete with an ACOMAF Chapter 54-inspired confession (iykyk).

[ironboyxs]

Night of the Broken Dragons pt.2

honestly I wasn't expecting to write a second part to this story but it was so well received and someone commented that they would like a sequel, so here it is! p.s. I don't know how to write smut properly

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Warnings: Targcest and smut

part1 here

A few days after the night he spent with his uncle in King's Landing, Y/N was back in Dragonstone. He didn't know how to react to the last few days. All he could think about was Aemond and how he could see him again, but he knew that a visit to King's Landing was out of the question.

"Why are you so distracted, brother?" - Jace asked. The family was gathered for dinner

"Just thinking about…"

"About?" - Lucerys asked.

"Nothing, I was just distracted." - The boy said clearly lying, something he was never very good at.

Daemon and Rhaenyra looked at each other, they knew each of their children very well and knew that something was wrong with the boy. He wasn't usually so absent-minded, or miss his appointments as he had been in the last few days. Dinner continued despite the awkwardness, Y/N's siblings chatted while Daemon and Rhaenyra talked about politics, until the doors opened. It was one of the knights who protected the castle, he seemed embarrassed to enter so suddenly into something that should supposedly be familiar. -

"Forgive me, princess' - He said to Rhaenyra "But a raven came for young Prince Y/N and in it a note said it was urgent." - Y/N was surprised, who could be sending him urgent messages at this time of night?

"Let me see" Daemon said.

"Father, it's for me." Y/N had already lost his fear of calling Daemon father, at least in Dragonstone.

"Okay." Daemon rolled his eyes, "Give it to the boy."

The knight approached the prince and handed him the letter.

"Thank you," Y/N thanked him.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll read it in privacy." – He said, leaving the dinner table, leaving the whole family curious.

It was a letter from Aemond, obviously it would be a letter from Aemond, why hadn't he thought of that?

In a secluded corner of the castle, the young prince opened the letter that read:

“Nephew, I need to see you urgently. Please meet me in the Meadows near God’s Eye Lake. Nyke jāhor ao. (I need you).

The letter was short but to the point. Aemond needed him, and Y/N could no longer stand the distance since the last time they were together, when they had shared such great intimacy. The boy headed for the dragon pit.

“Get Aelithys ready. I’m going out.” He said, entering and speaking to the dragon masters. “But, my prince, it’s already late.” One of them said to the boy. “I know, but I need to resolve an urgent matter. I count on your discretion and not go running to tell my father or mother.” The prince looked at the masters seriously.

A few minutes later, the light pink and white dragon was ready to fly. Rhaenyra always said that Aelithys was the perfect dragon for Y/N, both with a delicate yet majestic appearance.

"Aelithys, soves!" – The prince commanded and the dragon flew. The prince's long blond hair, which at this point reached almost to his waist, was not tied up, so he could feel the wind shaking his locks, which made his escape even more exciting.

After a flight of about 20 minutes, he arrived at the place where Aemond had indicated in the letter. Even in the darkness, it was difficult not to notice Vhagar behind the mountain, the dragon was too huge to go unnoticed.

Y/N landed his dragon near Vhagar, knowing that the two could get along well, and went to look for Aemond. He did not have to walk far, because at the top of the nearest hill his uncle was sitting, watching the stars.

"Vēzos, vestās nykē?" (Uncle, did you send for me?)

Aemond was not startled by the boy's sudden presence. He simply stood up and as soon as he could he put his hands on Y/N and pulled him towards him, giving him a kiss. Y/N was surprised but could not deny that he had wanted this for a long time.

"Nyke ūndegon lēda ao, ñuha jorrāelagon." (I have missed you so much, my beloved)

Y/N blushed at Aemond's words.

"I missed you too." - He said, caressing the taller man's cheek. "But what was the urgency? Why did I need to come so quickly?"

Aemond's gaze became saddened, Y/N then realized that his uncle had been crying, something he never thought would happen after they were children.

"Aemond, what happened? - Y/N said with affection and love in his voice.

"Come with me first." - He pulled the younger man by the hand and led him to a small stone house that was on top of the hill.

"What place is this?" - Y/N asked suspiciously.

"I paid the owners of the house to make it comfortable and tidy, and I gave them an inn and enough money so that they wouldn't tell anyone about my stay here."

"You got a house just to find me?" - The younger man smiled.

"I would get a castle if I could" - Aemond looked intensely into his nephew's eyes. "Come in."

They entered a small stone house with rustic walls and a heavy wooden door. Inside, the warmth of the central fireplace enveloped them, with crackling flames illuminating the simple but cozy space. Fur rugs covered the stone floor, and a sturdy wooden table occupied the center, flanked by rough benches. On the wooden shelves, clay utensils and baskets of dried herbs completed the scene. In the corner, a bed covered with woolen blankets and furs promised rest, while the soft light of the candles and the low ceiling with exposed beams made the environment cozy and safe.

"It is a cozy place." - Y/N said to his uncle.

"I am glad you liked it, now please sit down." - Aemond pointed to the soft bed.

Y/N sat up and was eager to hear what his uncle had to tell him. What could be so serious and urgent to make him sad and call for him so urgently?

"My parents have found me a wife." – Aemond got straight to the point.

Upon hearing his beloved's painful confession, Y/N's face contorted in a mixture of sadness and despair. He knew that this moment would probably come one day, for one of them. Y/N's mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. Y/N felt his chest tighten, and he struggled to catch his breath. His heart, already broken by the impossibility of being together, now suffered an even deeper pain. He lowered his head, trying to hide the pain, and his hands tremble slightly, his mind clouded with the anguish of a future apart and the regret for a love that cannot blossom.

"But I don't want you to worry about that" - Aemond said seeing his nephew's despair and quickly placing his hands over his.

"I knew that one day this would happen Aemond, with me, or with you." - Maegor takes a deep breath - "We could never be together anyway "- The boy's gaze was of pure sadness.

"I refuse to marry any noble girl I've never seen in my life, I refuse to not be with someone other than you. And that's why I called you here." - Aemond gently takes Y/N's chin and makes him look at him "I have a plan."

"A plan?" - Y/N asks curiously.

"Your father has allies in Dorne, right? There we can be whoever we want. If we offer the ruler there the protection of our dragons, they will accept us with open arms."

"And risk a war against the Targaryens? Aemond, are you crazy? Run away?" - Y/N really wanted to believe that they could have a future together, but he didn't know if that was the right way.

"I won't be without you." - Aemond said in a decisive and possessive way. "I won't accept anyone by my side other than you."

Y/N was flattered by his uncle's words, he knew that the passion between them was intense and that it would burn with them as long as they were alive. They just might need a better plan.

"Let me talk to my parents before we try to run away somewhere?" - He said in a calm tone.

"Do you think your parents would accept us?" - Aemond asked skeptically.

"You'd be surprised at what they do for their children's happiness. Your mother can be… Persuaded. And your father, well, sorry to say but, he would do whatever his favorite daughter asked."

"I've gotten used to my father not being present in my life. I can't get used to missing you."

"So, let me talk to my parents and if nothing works, we'll run away, okay? Whether to Dorne or anywhere. I don't want to be away from you either, Aemond." – Y/N said with all the sincerity in his heart.

Aemond slowly approached, his gaze fixed on the other's face, a mixture of desire and passion in his eyes. He raised his hand and gently placed it on the back of his beloved's neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. His lips, initially half-open, approached the other's softly, until their lips finally touched, hesitantly, almost like a silent question. The moment the contact was made, something was awakened, and the kiss, which began timidly, soon intensified.

Their bodies instinctively moved closer, as if they were trying to merge into one. The hand on the back of his neck now squeezed more firmly, bringing him closer, while the other glided over his beloved's chest, feeling the accelerated rhythm of his breathing.

Their lips intertwined with more urgency, and the kiss became deeper, exploring and discovering, as if time had stopped. Their breathing mingled, while their mouths found a rhythmic and passionate dance, their bodies in perfect synchrony, locked in the moment. Aemond lays his nephew on the bed, kissing his neck, not caring if it would leave marks or not. He wants them to know that Y/N Targaryen already has an owner.

"Nyke jaelāt ao." (I want you) – He says with a growl in his nephew's ear.

"Nyke issa aōhon vēzos, jāhor nykē hae aōhon." (I am yours uncle, take me as yours).

Hearing these words come out of Y/N's mouth, Aemond lets out a growl and begins to undress the boy. Slowly taking off piece by piece of the complicated and beautiful clothing he was wearing. When Y/N was finally naked, Aemond looks at him like a dragon looks at its prey, wanting to devour him.

You are the most beautiful human being in all the seven kingdoms and beyond. – Aemond says, caressing the younger man's cheek. Y/N blushes at the compliment and seeks his uncle's mouth, wanting to taste more of the sweet nectar of his kiss. As they kiss, he helps Aemond remove his clothes, now both of them naked, once again in an intimacy that is only theirs, and that they only wanted to have with each other.

"There is some oil in the drawer next to the bed" - Aemond said to his nephew.

Maegor laughs, realizing that his uncle was expecting that to happen.

"Were you already preparing for this?"

"I wasn't going to find you and just give you a kiss" - He says, taking the oil and smearing it on his fingers. - "Relax, it's me, remember that I will always take care of you."

Aemond thrust himself inside Y/N, feeling the boy's warm insides tighten around him.

"Gods, you're still going to be my downfall" - He said, kissing his nephew's neck.

Y/N's breathing was labored, he had only done that once before, and with Aemond himself, but even so, his uncle was very big and his body needed time to adjust.

"May I move?" - Aemond asked gently.

Y/N nodded confirming that he could and Aemond began to move slowly, seeking more pleasure for his nephew than for himself.

"Is that okay?" - He said, still with his face buried in the younger's neck.

"You can go faster" - Y/N said breathlessly.

"Your request is my command, my prince" - Aemond chuckled.

The older man began to move faster, hitting a specific spot that he knew made Y/N roll his eyes. Y/N felt like he was in heaven, he never thought sex could be so good. He grabbed his uncle's hair and pulled him closer for a kiss.

"I won't last long" - Aemond said with a panting breath.

"Inside" - Y/N said.

That was all the older Targaryen needed to hear, he increased his pace which made the younger one roll his eyes in pleasure. The two screamed each other's names as they had their orgasms synchronized.

Aemond collapsed on top of Y/N, tired after sex.

"Nyke jorrāelagon ao." (I love you) - Aemond said.

Y/N's heart warmed when he heard his uncle's confession,

"Nyke jorrāelagon ao tolī" (I love you too).

"We'll work this out, we won't be separated" - Aemond told his nephew.

"No, we won't." - Y/N said kissing the scar on his uncle's eye. Zaldrīzoti jēdari lēda sīr.

Dragons belong together.

[gonzo-rella]

The Benevolent Girlfriend | Kim Pine (ft. Wallace Wells)

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): Kim Pine x sick!gn!reader (romantic), Wallace Wells x sick!gn!reader (implied romantic)

Summary: Your roommate Wallace is repulsed by your cold, so he gets your girlfriend Kim to come over and take care of you.

Warnings: You're gross and sick, sorry. (Let me know if I need to add any)

Word count: 0.8k

(A/N: I finally rewatched Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, because I wanted to watch it before I watch the anime (haven't seen it yet, but once I have I'll make a post and add it to my fandom list), and damn I'm in love with Kim. I've been enjoying writing these sick fics whilst I recover from the common cold, so I figured I'd try writing something about Kim, and I was motivated to write something that wasn't just headcanons, which I've already done with the Yellowjackets ladies, Abed and Annie from Community and Charlie, Todd and Neil from Dead Poets Society. This is my first Scott Pilgrim fic, so hopefully it's alright! I tried to capture the spirit and tone of the movie and characters. I'd like to write more for both Kim and Wallace specifically. Maybe I'm delirious from being sick but I'd love to write a fic where the reader is the S/O of both Kim and Wallace to indulge myself because I'm in love with them both.)

A mattress on the floor in a very cold country surely couldn’t have been the best place to recover from a cold- an idiot could tell you that. Wallace had very kindly made you soup and brought you countless glasses of water, but he had hauled his chair as far away from you and the bed as he could manage in the small apartment because, to quote him, you were ‘repulsive and contagious, no offence’. He had been very gracious in letting you pick out what daytime TV crap you wanted to watch.

It reached the late afternoon when there was a knock at the door, and, with a huff, Wallace got up to get it, leaving you to stare absently at the TV through the mist of your mild headache and clogged ears. Your neck was beginning to ache from craning it to look up at the screen.

“Kimberly. You’re here. What took you so long?”

“Nice to see you too, Wallace. Are they awake?”

Wallace cast a glance in your direction and tilted his head; he then looked back at Kim.

“Well, the lights are on, but it doesn’t look like anybody’s home.”

He punctuated the sentence with a shrug.

“Kim?” you said finally, voice hoarse and nasal from your sore throat and blocked nose respectively. 

Kim peered at you over Wallace's shoulder then barged past him. She stood at the foot of your ‘bed’.

“What are you doing here?” you mumbled. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Wallace texted me that you’re sick.”

Wallace left the door ajar, prompting you to wrap your blanket tighter around you. He reached over to grab his coat and slid his arms into it, then stood beside Kim.

“I’m going out with Other Scott, and I thought it’d be cruel to leave you alone, so I told your very benevolent girlfriend-” Kim rolled her eyes as Wallace indicated to her with a nod. “That you were sick and that she might wanna come over and take care of you in your equally benevolent roommate’s stead.”

“Okay. Thanks, Wa-”

You were interrupted by a sneeze. It was so sudden that you made the split-second decision to cover it with your hands. When you peeled it away, droplets of snot coated your palms.

You groaned.

Wallace scrunched up his nose.

“That’s disgusting,” Kim commented monotonously. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I’ve been told.”

“And, with that,” Wallace said, stepping over to the door and swinging it open. “I’ll leave you kids to it. Good luck, Kim. And, I hope you feel better soon, dear.”

“Thanks, Wallace,” you mumbled.

“Fuck off, Wallace,” Kim said dryly, in unison with you.

He waved at you both then closed the door. There was a moment of silence in which you and Kim just stared at one another. Your snot-covered hands were still held out in front of you.

“So, you’re sick, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Are you going to clean that up?”

You stared at her blankly, before realising what she meant.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

You went to reach for your box of tissues before you realised that they were on the kitchen counter after Wallace had used a few to shield his hands from direct contact with your glass of water. Kim’s gaze followed yours, but her attention returned to you when she noticed that you were readying yourself to get up.

“One sec. I’ll get them for you.”

You relaxed as Kim made the very short journey to the kitchen counter and knelt down to put the box next to you. She yanked a few tissues from the box before placing them in your hands, careful not to touch your snot.

“Thanks, Kim.”

“No problem.”

She stayed kneeling down beside you, watching as you cleared up your hands. There was a look of contemplation on her face.

“You need anything else?”

You glanced up at her and smiled.

“No, thanks.”

“Alright.”

She climbed over you and took a seat beside you- shoulder-to-shoulder- on the mattress. You looked at her incredulously.

“Are you sure you wanna get so close? Wallace hasn’t come near me all day.”

She folded her arms.

“I don’t care.”

“But, I’m disgusting.”

Kim smirked so faintly that anyone who didn’t know her wouldn’t have registered that it was there.

“I wouldn’t be your ‘benevolent girlfriend’ if that bothered me.”

You chuckled and rested your head on her shoulder, and Kim rested her head on yours.

“Holy shit, you’re hot,” she stated.

“Thanks.”

“I meant you have an alarming fever.”

“Oh. Right.”

There was a pause, and Kim huffed.

“Fine. You’re the other kind of hot, too.”

“Thanks, Kim, that’s very-”

You broke into a series of coughs and doubled over. You covered your mouth with the inside of your elbow. Kim rubbed your back soothingly. Once again, the faintest of smiles tugged at her lips.

“Sorry,” you groaned. “That wasn't very hot.”

“Maybe not,” she said. She rested her hand on your shoulder and pulled you closer, once again resting her head on yours. “But, I love you anyway.”

[utilitycaster]

What ACOC fanon are people getting so upset over?

Come traveler. Let me tell you a tale. For I, too, was unaware of it until they went absolutely bugfuck all over Twitter. But if you don't want the whole long-winded epic: people shipped Belizabeth Brassica and Saint Citrina and while there has been no evidence indicating this will or not be confirmed or even mentioned they FREAKED OUT about how Matt would OBVIOUSLY destroy the "widespread" fanon (it is not widespread), specifically implying he'd do so in a bigoted way. Then some D20 guests noticed because the people saying this are not like, unknown fanartists (in fact one implied they had been asked to create art for the season but forgot to check their DMs) and were like "this is entitled and stupid and needlessly cruel to Matt, who is like, a guy we personally know and generally like." The people then, rather than saying "my B" and taking this to the DMs like a normal person who wants to talk shit, repeatedly doubled down. As of a few hours ago they were accusing Jasmine Bhullar of subtweeting them when she was in fact merely promoting an entirely unrelated show, it's sparked both a heartfelt discussion about how Matt's discussion of body dysmorphia has helped people and a conversation about how there's toxicity in all fandoms but the D20 community refuses to even acknowledge it; and also I think they've burned their chances of ever doing fan art for an actual play of any size in LA, Chicago, New York, London, or the centroid that represents an equidistant point from all the McElroys which is, I believe, hilariously for Amnesty fans, in the Monongahela National Forest.

Anyway POV we're around a campfire, I'm drinking something lightly alcoholic, and you wish to hear of The Drama At Length:

Do you remember Belizabeth Brassica, aka Broccoli Pope loosely based in appearance on Queen Elizabeth I (technically renaissance rather than high medieval but like...people constantly mix those up in D&D so it's fine)?

Great. Now do you remember the Rocks Sisters? Not the twins played by Siobhan and Emily; Amethar's four older sisters who died in the Ravening War, before the story started: Rococoa, Lazuli, Citrina, and Sapphria. Rococoa was a general; Lazuli an archmage (and Caramelinda's wife before she died; Caramelinda then married Amethar because while Lazuli had been a love match, this was a beneficial marriage for political purposes); Citrina a devotee of The Bulb; and Sapphria a spy and diplomat. They get talked about a lot, for sure, but their presence in the story is to be absent and to haunt the narrative.

Anyway the fanon is that Citrina and Belizabeth were in a relationship. In canon, I believe all we know is that both were devotees of the bulb; that Citrina held positions that might be considered heretical by some (she was a passionate believer in love matches and supported Amethar's marriage to a commoner in the Dairy Isles) and that Belizabeth ordered that she be killed.

Here's where this gets fun. So ACOC aired pretty much exactly three years ago, and while I think it's considered by many to be a high point in D20's oeuvre, a lot of fans have, you know, kept up with D20 on the whole and not dwelt on it in depth. But a small group of people have been consistently focused on this ship between an NPC who is vitally important to the narrative but shows up in fewer than a third of the total episodes; and a character dead before the story ever started. Which, I need to stress, is fine; the joy of headcanons is playing in the empty spaces.

Flash forward to 2023: a creative director who was generally opposed to revisiting past campaign settings and preferred standalone has just amicably parted ways. Neverafter has gotten mixed reviews (I have to see the last 8 episodes; this is anecdotal but some of the editing choices, plus the both dense yet meandering plot, brought the momentum of a truly fantastic TPK and resolution early on to a shuddering halt), and really nothing but A Court of Fey and Flowers has truly stuck for some time. The fandom has been clamoring for Fantasy High Junior Year for quite some time to no avail. The switch to 10-episode sidequests from 6 episode sidequests has met lukewarm reception. In short: D20 could use something flashy to revitalize their next sidequest. Enter: Matt Mercer as DM.

Now, a lot of D20 fans who are not part of the (significant) overlap with CR fans hate Matt Mercer. This is in part because a lot of people who got Big Mad about ships in Campaign 2 went to D20 and proceeded to badmouth Critical Role, a show they happily watched and made art for until roughly episode 107-ish of Campaign 2, proclaiming it homophobic (wrong two women kissed); racist (one of the women who kissed is a dark-skinned woman played by a white woman, which would have still been true if she kissed the other woman but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯); and probably problematic in other ways. To be clear I am not saying Critical Role is above criticism, and it has made its missteps, but like, the fact that these complaints showed up conveniently only when a ship didn't happen and mostly from like, white teenagers who proceeded to simultaneously call the cast transphobic and deliberately get their names wrong means this is not the criticism that is valid and worth considering, as is the fact that technically Matt had nothing to do with the ship not happening, but they've realized being an asshole to Marisha about her character's romantic choices will rightfully get you flayed alive. Also some D20 fans just hate Critical Role in the way that if you live in Boston you're supposed to hate New York and vice versa but if you say "why? what if I just want the baseball boys to have a good time together?" no one can answer.

Anyway here's a diagram to illustrate the group I'm talking about; they're the green dot:

So: a couple of them decided a smart thing to do on Twitter in front of God and everybody was to say that they were worried Matt would contradict this "widely established" fanlore because he is not plugged into the ACOC fandom. They then proceeded to specifically (jokingly, but like, in a shitty way, still where everyone could see it) say that Matt would probably introduce Belizabeth as being married to her husband because she is 100% straight.

Now there's a bunch of problems here, and people pointed them out. Namely:

This is a weird thing to assume Matt would do, ie, automatically make an arbitrary NPC definitely straight, even if you're joking about it; like, he has a pretty decent track record for making NPCs of varying genders and sexualities, especially by C2 and C3.

This is not even widely established fanlore; this is a tiny group of fans of ACOC. See below for more on that.

Even if it were widely established fanlore, it's unlikely Brennan would know either.

Even if it were widely established fanlore and Matt or Brennan were aware of it, they are under no obligation to adhere to fanlore, because it's fanlore, not the established canon of A Crown of Candy. This does not make fanlore bad! It just means that creators are allowed to ignore it in the same way that fan creators are allowed to ignore canon; this is a two-way street.

Therefore, because this is fanlore, even if Matt did say "here is Belizabeth and her husband, and she has only ever been involved with men" this would not be homophobic because the character's sexuality has never been established and straight is one of the possible sexualities she could have. Obviously if he went super hard on her straightness that could get weird but that's a fucking bonkers stretch.

When people pointed it out, this group and a few other people who just fucking hate Matt kept dismissing them as CR fans. Then it caught the attention of various D20 guest cast members or people in the broader TTRPG scene, who have pointed out that like...the actual play and TTRPG industry is a place where basically everyone in a particular region knows everyone else and they are all good friends and this is shitty. The D20 fans mad that Matt is DM-ing The Ravening War kept doubling down and started making outright ad-hominem attacks on Matt (notably his appearance and dress which is like, shitty and irrelevant to this fanon thing anyway even before you consider the body dysmorphia) and whining that because they've made some charity fanzines, a thing people have been doing since the dawn of Star Trek TOS, they deserve...something. People rightfully called them out as 1. entitled brats and 2. needlessly cruel. They keep whining that CR fans are dogpiling them when in fact like, the entire TTRPG community including, as far as I can tell, the D20 community who overlaps with CR fandom and even the D20 community that does not but is neutral on CR, is like "you suck, you started it, this fandom is not exempted from typical fandom toxicity, and you will look back on this in 5 years and vomit from embarrassment."

Anyway this is all kind of tiresome, but also pretty funny because literally I'm expecting a bunch of fanartists who are immensely high on their own farts to be 100% blacklisted from ever receiving a commission from like, any Actual Play of note and also a lot of fans; there's an outpouring of support for Matt that far outstrips what there would have been without a handful of idiots starting shit; and also the season is fully filmed anyway so if this ship was confirmed noncanon, it happened a few months ago anyway and there's nothing anyone can do.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, pretty much all these losers are still 100% going to watch The Ravening War anyway so like, this has all amounted to a net positive for everyone but them.

[cebwrites]

babygirl trifecta

i love them all so god damn much <333 extra notes and rambles under the cut for kakashi and law highlighting some differences as well as my journey with them!

well i tried to keep it brief but this ended up getting cluttered pretty quickly lmao, i can only hope it's legible for anyone who takes the time out of their day to read this

i already mentioned it but it really is funny how my little martini glass meow looks so much broader than kakashi (it's not even that much of an actual difference, i overlayed them to check!) it just looks like that because kakashi looks evenly proportioned but law has their cunty little whore waist TT0TT

in the five years that i've been completely absent naruto fandom circles i've gotten over my wild aversion to facial hair lol, what a weird hill to die on?? i'm still not the biggest fan of huge beards, but you put a mild stubble on a tired little guy?? i'll go bonkers bro, straight COCONUTS-- i draw law with a little extra scruff to their goatee and it's just sdfjskghdkfh!!! 💓💖💗💞 my baby's so masculine oh my gawwww <3333

i suspect it's aizawa who started it all and one piece just doubled down my slightly piqued interest (everyone was just so smooth in naruto and when they did have facial hair it was full beards and no inbetween, that's potentially what turned me off it initially lmao)

wrt law's pronouns i feel unhinged every time i have to talk about it but like skhdskgb i almost exclusively refer to them with they/them pronouns verbally (this counts maybe?? whenever i'm not writing anyway) but sometimes in headcanons or fics the "he" and "him"s just sort of slip out and they feel natural but not when i'm talking about them casually

by and large i'd much rather people use they/them for law when interacting with me but idk i feel compelled to "pick one" and it's one of those silly things that really shouldn't bother me but does sdkhfskgh

i doodled the old oc i used to have paired with kakashi (they still do live together somewhere in the back of my mind!) alongside law's little kirin chibi but they technically do have an OP version and that's vastly different from who they used to be in the narutoverse nobody's particularly interested in that but me but i still think it's a neat little tidbit :3

i could've easily done this interaction with iruka or shisui - since they were very much comfort characters too, hell, shisui even ended up as an OC (reiji!) cause i loved him that much - but ultimately i ended up picking my og naruto king 💕

okay that's enough rambling for one day, i didn't touch that much on aizawa because this is long enough as is sdjfskghkdg back to my little corner i skitter--