#But your honor that is a grown ass man and they are the same age

[illdothehotvoice]

Also I don't want to be rude but I feel people are missing the point of the post so here's some more thoughts I have about overprotective Mario

idk it's also especially weird because a) Luigi is an adult grown ass man b) they are twins

[ncityprincess]

The one before the big ‘three-oh’

Minors do not interact

Happy 29th Birthday to the boyfriend of all boyfriends, the one and only Mr. Johnny Suh🫦🎂

“Man, tonight was crazy fun y/n! Thank you so much, really. How did you score box seats to the Bulls vs the Lakers babe?!” your giddy fiancé exclaimed, high off of the evening’s events. You had just gotten back from the basketball game you surprised Johnny with for his birthday. The tickets cost a pretty penny, but it was worth it. Johnny made all other 364 days of the year magical for you. He deserved a special experience for his big day. It was the least you could do.

Johnny turned on the lights in the house as you took your heels off and set them aside. “Oh don’t worry about it baby. I’m just happy you had a fun birthday. How does it feel being 29, big guy?” The two of you migrated into the kitchen, your typical hang out spot in the house. You loved your little life you’d built with Johnny. From having to share a slice of pizza in your college days, to now being full grown adults and making a comfortable life for yourselves, it was these little moments you looked forward to in life. Making memories with the love of your life made you feel warm inside.

Johnny grabbed two water bottles and handed you one, opening it for you. “You know, normally I’d say I feel the same as any other age, but this year I truly do feel every bit of 29. I guess… it just feels like a serious number because it’s the last one before the big ‘three-oh’, ya know?” Johnny walked up to the barstool you were sitting on and stood in between your legs, cupping your dolled up face. You gave him a tiny, empathetic smile and caressed his large hands.

“You’re gonna be as sexy as ever once you hit those 30’s…just saying” you joked, hoping to soothe his thoughts a little. Johnny tossed his head back and snorted, “wow, thanks babe.”

You giggled along with him, rubbing your hands up and down his broad back. “You’re blossoming into such an amazing man, John. Seriously. I fall more in love with you each day, and it’s an honor that I get to do life with you. I love you so much honey.” Johnny couldn’t hide the blush creeping up on his face even if he wanted to. Of course, always the man of action rather than words, Johnny bent down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. The action said more to you than any sweet words could.

After the kiss slowed, you pulled away from him and ran your hand across the front of his thigh. Maybe there were a few more birthday festivities you had planned for your man…

“Why don’t you uh, get us some wine and meet me back in the bedroom in a few, big boy.” You shot him some flirty bedroom eyes, something you knew he couldn’t resist. Johnny gave you a knowing smile and backed away from you slowly, holding a hand out to help you down from the barstool. He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, and you walked out of the kitchen with a little extra sway in your hips, feeling Johnny’s lingering gaze on your ass.

After giving you what felt like enough time to plan whatever you were conjuring up in that pretty head of yours, Johnny walked into your shared bedroom with two wine glasses in hand, just like you’d asked. He noticed that the lighting was slightly moodier than normal, and took note of the sexy playlist that added to the ambiance in the room. You walked out of the en-suite bathroom wearing nothing but a crimson red silk robe, and a pair of black stilettos.

“Oh well well well, what do we have here baby?” Johnny said as he took in your sexy little look. He gently placed the wine glasses down on the dresser, never taking his eyes off of you. You flipped your hair, the drinks from tonight and the desire to please your man for his special day heightening your confidence. “Hmm, well I guess you can call this your other birthday present, baby.”

“Oh? You mean, it gets better than box seats at the Bulls vs the Lakers?” Johnny flirted. “Why don’t you come unwrap it and find out, daddy.” With that, Johnny all but charged at you and kissed you passionately. You let out a sensual moan, running your hands all over his broad body. After a few moments of making out, you pressed your hands against his chest and pushed him back slightly. “You know what daddy? You’re always working so hard for me. Why don’t you go sit down in the chair? Let me take care of you.” Johnny was hooked under your spell. He would do just about anything for you right now. You guided him toward the chair in front of your bed, and he subconsciously followed.

He looked up at you, mesmerized as you started to put on a little show for him, rubbing your hands all over your body. Your fingers kept dancing toward the rope holding your robe together, but you wanted to drag it out a little more. As if it were right on cue, a particular birthday song popped up on shuffle. The familiar intro played throughout the room, but once the first verse started, the air in the room got a little lighter.

“Wow, very on the nose babe” Johnny snickered. You cracked a smile, giggling at the incredibly literal lyrics of the song. Birthday Sex by Jeremih seemed like an appropriate addition to Johnny’s birthday playlist you had curated beforehand, but in hindsight it did seem a little cheesy. You playfully slapped his arm, slightly embarrassed but also grateful that you two were close enough to be able to share a laugh in intimate situations like this. Yet another reason why you loved Johnny so much. “Shut up!! It seemed like a good song to include at the time. Just sit back and watch, big boy” you scolded lightheartedly.

Johnny held his hands up in retreat, signaling that he was done with the jokes and ready to focus on you. Your hips found the rhythm, and swayed along to the beat. After a few moments, Johnny was hypnotized by your seductive movements. He admired how sexy and confident you were, loving how you moved your body. How did he get lucky to have such a beautiful woman like you?

Johnny’s upper body bent towards you as your fingers inched closer and closer to the tie holding your robe together. You gave him a sexy smile, and played with him a bit. “Aw, you wanna see what’s underneath, don’t ya big guy?” Johnny frantically nodded, licking his plump lips in anticipation. You finally undid the robe, letting it fall to the floor at your heeled feet. There you were, standing stark naked in front of your fiancé. A wave of confidence flowed through your body.

You turned around and bent over slightly, giving Johnny a nice view of your glistening pussy. Johnny let out a soft “fuck”, much to your amusement. You walked back over, stopping right in front of Johnny. His hands automatically moved to your bare ass, rubbing it in appreciation. He looked up at you as if you were the only woman in the world, and it made you feel you alive.

As much as he loved your little peep show, his dick was going to bust through his pants at any second now. Without warning, Johnny stood up and pushed you back onto the bed, shoving his dress pants off and towering over you. You looked up at him dumbfounded, still amazed by the fact that he could manhandle you at any given second. “Babe—baby I’m supposed to be on top of you. It’s your night remember!” You pleaded. Surely he deserved to be the one serviced tonight.

“Shhh, you’ve done enough for me sweetheart. Just need be inside that sweet pussy now. Is that okay, baby?” Johnny looked down at you like the big bad wolf, ready to eat you whole at any moment. How could you resist an offer like that? “Yes daddy. Want you deep inside.”

With that, Johnny rubbed his leaking tip a few times and slowly sank into your dripping pussy. You both moaned in unison, relishing in the closeness of the position. Johnny gathered your thighs on his biceps and placed them around his waist. You locked your ankles in place, bracing yourself in preparation. He built up a strong, quick pace that had you moaning like a whore. “Fuckkkk John you’re so deep baby” you moaned out, wrapping your arms around his neck. Johnny sucked on your earlobe as he pistoned roughly into you.

He was grateful in moments like this to live in a house with just you two in it. Gone were the days of having to tip toe around neighbors and roommates and figure out sneaky ways to pummel your sweet little pussy. He didn’t have to share thin walls with anyone. He could pound into your hole without a care in the world. This is true adulthood, Johnny thought to himself.

Your whiney mewls brought him back to reality, and he turned his head to look down at your gorgeous, fucked out face. Your eyebrows were stitched together, looking up at him with large doe eyes. He loved when you got like this. “Feel good baby? You’re making me feel real good. Yeah that’s it, just lay back and take it.”

You threw your head back in ecstasy, digging your manicured nails into his shoulders. “Ooh daddy I’m so close.” Johnny snuck a hand down to your sex, and rubbed soft circles into your clit. He knew how much you loved a little extra stimulation when you were close to cumming. A couple more thrusts and you were creaming all over his thick cock. Johnny let out a long, deep groan and soon after, you felt warm spurts of cum deep inside you. Johnny thrusted a few more times before he completely stilled with a satisfied groan.

“Fuck baby, this has to be the best birthday I’ve ever had” Johnny said sincerely, playing with some loose strands of your hair. You giggled, still slightly out of breath. “Aw, honey. There’s plenty more where that came from.” You pressed a soft kiss to his nose, and Johnny smiled mischievously.

“I hope you’re not just talking about birthdays, my love.” And with that, Johnny rolled you onto your stomach for a celebratory round 2.

The end 🎂

[glassesfreekjr]

Can we analyse Tulin for a bit?

Apart from being the keet birb boy, perhaps what makes his character so enthralling is how it so brilliantly reflects and offers commentary on the influences that have shaped him.

Whether that be Revali, his father Teba, and ESPECIALLY Link. Hell, it's no wonder that Link & Tulin have garnered such a sibling dynamic. Tulin essentially IS Link, from a time before the burden of responsibility and pain caused Link to cave in on himself pre-Breath of the Wild.

Right down to the veteran warrior father figure (Link's father was captain of the guard) and their acceptance of a newfound legacy out of forthright integrity. Tulin, at this point in his life, has yet to give himself away until there's nothing of him left to give, and let's pray he never needs to.

But Tulin would do that in a heartbeat, if called upon. He is very much his father's son.

You can see it in how archtypical childish spunk is tempered, like steel, by Teba's down-to-earth bluntness and sheer work ethic.

(BTW I wonder if Link sees his own father in Teba? That'd check out.)

But what caught me most pleasantly off-guard is Tulin's skepticism, which has become one of his most compelling traits for me. It's not something you would expect.

He did not believe that the Stormwind Ark existed, and while ultimately proven wrong, it frankly wasn't an illogical assumption to make. Tulin clearly thought through that opinion. He'd also grown frustrated that the Rito placed their faith on a songbook miracle — a eucatastrophe, if you will — instead of something more concrete like personal skill or, say, Link's whole-ass existence.

The second Link arrived and offered his aid, Tulin accepted his help without hesitation. He turned his skepticism inward to reevaluate his own tenets. And it's as a duo that they brought about said eucatastrophe through no one's strength but their own. They are siblings, Your Honor. Aryll 2.0

(If Revali had been blessed with a support network saying "it's okay to accept help. no man is an island," doubtless he still would have perished in Vah Medoh. But there would be less of an ego to shatter. He would have faced death with less blind panic and more dignity. And most importantly, he'd have other people to bolster the wind beneath his wings during his short life. (At the very least, Revali would not have as big an ass not be as big an ass, just as Tulin would be a different person without his family.)

dammit quaquaval you have RUINED me

Also, one thing that everyone seems to miss is just how deceptively intelligent Tulin turns out to be. This kid fuckin' knows his stuff. His mastery of aerodynamics beyond the instinctual is almost on par with Revali at such a young age. And how many precision headshots has his avatar saved your ass with, don't lie.

He somehow managed to follow his father back through time. Tulin can see Koroks.

It's not the same kind of passion-fuelled intellect as, say, Zelda has. More of an unyeilding conviction to learn all he can and put it into practice. About as understated a quality as Yunobo's inexplicable business acumen and economic sense.

As his mother Saki put it, for Tulin to develop as an individual, he needs to experience more of reality and its hardships. Shooting bullseyes and improving one's flying prowess / wind magic can't contend with genuine combat. True to her word, Tulin had to experience mistakes firsthand, and critically examine his own naïve ways of thinking in order to take those necessary steps.

...

So then, uh, is it wrong for me to wish something horrible upon him, if only to witness the positive character growth that springs from it? Tulin isn't the sort who'll shatter under pressure, like Revali did at the end of his life, or like Link did under the weight of expectation. Buckle, yes — but not break. Tulin's steadfast conviction, inherited from his father and guided by the people he loves, would assuredly see him through.

In any event, his Hero's Journey isn't close to over. I'd be curious to see Tulin at its conclusion.

tl;dr I wanna Emesis Blue his bitch-ass, AITA?

[frost-felon]

Playing Ace Attorney: Spirit of Justice for the first time (note: like Dual Destinies, this is labeled as a "Phoenix Wright" game). I didn't like Dual Destinies, but outside of a few issues, Spirit of Justice was shaping up to be a better game than DD. That wasn't a hard bar to pass, but then I get to case 4 (henceforth referred to as "6-4").

Sweet GOD, this case sucks ass! As an Apollo fan (who knows some of the spoilers for the late game¹), I have anger, but I can't imagine the pain Athena fans likely felt, holy SHIT.

The way that this is written to be Athena's first big case on her own, where she proves that she doesn't need to be rescued or babied (as Phoenix was her 'savior' when she had a panic attack in DD). So what happens? Simon Blackquill, a twenty-nine-year-old man, has to rescue her during the trial. Not because she has a panic attack, but because she's CLEARLY too stupid to not need assistance, Your Honor.

This is after Blackquill had been pestering her into trying to get any sort of assistance from her (male, much older) boss, Phoenix, and her (male, older) co-worker, Apollo. She notes that neither could help her even if she wanted to acquiesce to Blackquill's concerns, as Phoenix is in a different country, and Apollo is on a theater stage as the boss' daughter's assistant.

Blackquill FREQUENTLY nags Athena about how he doesn't want to "nursemaid" (babysit) her during the trial, and often insults her intelligence/competency, insisting that she needs the help to successfully defend the accused.

The accused, whom Blackquill benefits from proving the innocence of.

Prosecutor Shithead also frequently insults Athena's intelligence and competence, and mocks her for her inexperience and age. She's 19...Shithead is only 25, the same age as her co-worker (and as we found out in 6-3, his adoptive brother).

Athena literally gets manhandled by Blackquill at one point, when he's frustrated that she's floundering. This is a unique animation using the 3D models, from Athena's perspective. This is a grown-ass man assaulting another member of the court, when he was the one to force himself into the Defense Bench.

The Defendant, who shows up drunk to the trial (and is only sober when he is found Not Guilty), mistakes Athena to be Simon's lover, due to a misunderstanding that Simon caused. Defendant: "Is she, like, yer fellow apprentice or sumfin'...?" Simon: "...Heh, something like that. I've known her longer than I've known you. You could say we're bound to one another." Defendant: "Ohhhh, m'kay... Well den. Guessh I better call 'er MIZ chickadee, den." Simon never corrects this during the case. (Not sure if he ever does afterward.)

In general, I feel like this case was meant to be the developers saying, "Hey, we didn't forget about Athena, guys!" (She was Apollo's assistant for Case 2.) And...seemingly to push Blackquill/Athena. I don't mind the fans of that ship, but that's a pairing I definitely don't want to see become canon. Especially if it's going to be like this.

Things that don't have to do with Blackquill below:

Prosecutor Shithead is particularly unbearable in this case. I believe that in general, he has some of the worst arguments of any prosecutors in the series, save maybe the Paynes and DeBeste. I'm not even sure if he's got better arguments than them, honestly.

Athena went into Law School abroad, but specializes in analytical psychology (particularly as to be used in court cases). One of the witnesses is revealed to have a certain psychological condition. Anybody wanna guess?! ...Yeah, it's a popculture favorite: Multiple Personality Disorder. The correct choice to reveal this is, "[The witness] has multiple personalities." Athena then correctly identifies the real phenomenon of Dissociative Identity Disorder...before using both that and MPD interchangeably. I actually don't think it's ever referred to as DID again, after that. The secret witness (the fourth personality of this witness) is revealed when the other three become unconscious, due to being alcoholic lightweights. This fourth personality, who is portrayed as a child, is not affected by the alcohol (at least insofar as how the case portrays drunk characters, including the other three personalities).

The other witness (besides Blackquill, who is actually a witness as well) is used for boob jokes (if you've seen the clussy memes with the balloon lady, that's her). She's also the killer.

The case is pretty easy...save for one or two issues. My primary one is with the murder weapon. The autopsy report notes that the victim suffocated, but "Nothing was found in his lungs." He is killed by...being smothered to death with uncooked dough. Even beyond what a pain it is to realize what you're actually supposed to point out, this...this is a painful revelation for the case. And by that, I mean it goes against almost everything that was established before, and is suspect, logically. My only defense for this would be that maybe he didn't inhale any of the dough, but ingested some, and the coroner just didn't check. In typical Ace Attorney fashion, the defendant is tried for this murder the day after the body is found...but still. Very frustrating.

But what's HELLA FRUSTRATING is that this is the penultimate case. And it might as well be a Case 2 in terms of structure and difficulty, as well as overall plot importance. 'Cause this has NOTHING to do with the overarching plot, as far as I can tell. Case 3 literally left off with the plot ramping up. Apollo's got a ton of connections to the overarching plot. Athena has...a filler case that puts the brake on any forward momentum in the plot. I already thought that Dual Destinies either should have been an Apollo Justice game² or more appropriately, an Athena Cykes game. She didn't do anything to get shafted like this, good Lord. And it's not like this messy handling would appease the majority of players, either...right? Athena fans, you deserve better--as an Apollo Justice fan (of the game and the character), Godspeed.

I like literally none of the characters in this case, ugh. Connected to the last point, my feelings would probably be different if this was actually Case 2. But the Case that is Case 2...as much as I have mixed feelings on it, there is a lot more to enjoy there. AND IT'S PLOT-RELEVANT. Is...is 6-4 even thematically relevant??? It sure doesn't feel like it.

Alright, so last thing. The only justification this case has for being as late as it is--that would be Prosecutor Shithead's acknowledgement of Athena as a worthy adversary. With some tweaks, that could have happened at the end of 6-2 (if these cases were swapped). It would also have been way more interesting to actually utilize the information of Apollo and Shithead being adoptive brothers, instead of 6-2 having a hook at the end for that reveal in 6-3. In general...6-2 should have been 6-4, given what I understand to be going on with 6-5 (and even what I don't, as there are plenty of things I successfully avoided knowing due to my hiatus).

I'm very peeves about this case. It's a massive low point for Spirit of Justice, and I was already trying to be charitable. Thank you to anyone who read this far--hope you enjoyed my seething. 'Cause my God, the lead up to playing more of this game (watching playthroughs of Apollo Justice and Dual Destinies) and actually playing it have caused me to stew so, so hard.

¹That's got a whole backstory to it, so I won't be talking about it in this initial post. Feel free to ask in reblogs, replies, or my ask box, though. It's why I left the Ace Attorney fandom since around the time the game came out (2016).

²I have many feelings about Dual Destinies, and many of them are negative. Athena deserved better than debuting there, but similar to the above, I won't go into any of it here.

[bad4amficideas]

I'm... the Bat?! Batboys HCs

Like any yandere series, kinda everyone in this au is one, you can interpret it platonic or romantic (except Alfred I guess) the age (and gender I hope) of Reader is in the air.

Reader is aware the Al Ghul are yanderes and Ric is a spoiled child in their eyes, Alfred has subtlety raised Jason well and Tim is JokerTim.

Note: English is not my language, so I hope you will be understanding of any flaws you find.

Earth 1T8 (aka Reader Reality)

It does not matter all the children have been adopted and grown up training and being defeated kinda always by Reader, if someone does something personal to them or their civil persona, god may forgive you... Death sentence (only if you are lucky) with Alfred handing over the shotguns (or medical instruments). Although in truth, Alfred is the only one with the excuse to actually pull the trigger because you know, the surrogate father thingie. But he pampers them (Reader) too much.

...If your adoptive "parent/sibling" goes crazy and kills a clown with their fists and feets because could not save you in time but your last vision was their clear despair and screams, when they was a person who always try to show you an image of dignity and security (even when Alfred always told you no no mister Jason, your dear Reader is an anxiety rat not a flying rat)...well, thats sticks and If before he was something possessive (childish and protective and non-conscious type), resuscitate finished signing the yandere with him (still kinda desilusional, not a over protective one, he's actually quite accommodating to Reader as long as they keep themselves behaving near his desilusional image). Jason knows is sicks but a "tiny" black part of his heart rejoices in knowing he's responsible for you comiting such atrocity and you feeling that piercing sadness, but, oh, to know for sure he's so Dear to you.

You are his and he is yours, that was proven a long time ago, he gots yours surname years ago and now that he could finally honor and defend it both properly, plus assure neither of you would go through that pain again. Oh well, if he has to do the pantomime of becoming a Bat-man or something like that so that you sleep peacefully he will too (with some brutality buuuut ...) And if you ever wanted continued fighting crime, it was fine because not Death but only you want him, so he would be your sword and shield.

Tim may have change his surname to Wayne in your world but he was truest to his original one than never. With yandere tendencies and aware of them since he knew Reader (manipulative and more protective the more he knows about the evil of the world). Really a drake taking care of his treasure. And with a fire so long range that Reader will never see their enemies coming... because (their) his enemies will never see him coming. He was always the smartest and the "nicest" in the room, the proud legal heir to Wayne Industries woth access to all their tech and data, proclaimed pain in the ass of Lex Luthor, the one who discovered the bat's identity and was their supportTM in a moment of emotional weakness.

This Tim even have it easiest to diminish his inferiority complex as the only initial sidekick comparison was between him and Jason (who may or not has been rised with his whispers to Ra's). After all, their skill sets were like that of leopard and killer whale, even with both adopted by Reader, both trained by Alfred, Ra's and Reader. But it was Tim himself who would later bring the magical boy Billy Batson Wayne and Steph and Cass now both Wayne too, to the Batfam. At the end Gotham was his dungeon and he was the DM. Because this Tim was really the near one to become the next Joker, even if that was the only option to keep Reader's attention on him.

Richard, Dick, Ric, Talon. Reader's biggest failure (a nosense really you can not be everywhere). If Reader know that Ric Powers, Dick Grayson and Talon are the same person, they either ignore it or are in complete denial (3rd). Officially Dick died with his parents, Ric is the biological son of the Powers family (the magic of money) and Talon, well, he has to be one of the old acrobats from the circus or his own grangrampa as canon, right?

We have to keep in mind that this Reader is not Batman. They know events in advance, has maybe same battraining and technology but not Batman head and mettle. A supercomputer is useless if you give it to a 5-year-old who is only used to normal computers, even if you teach them to use it they must accustomed to it first.

Ric is kinda the Bruce Wayne of this dimension. Multifaceted. After the provoked death of his parents he was raised by his grandfather and the Court to be Talon and like so keeps his emotions at bay if not to say they must were nonexistent or at least that what the Court tried. He is creepy and stalker type and you might mistake him for one of those human statue actors on the streets. One that can kill you in one move and without any noise. As his Ric Powers persona is the current bad stereotypical Dick Grayson, flirtatious, seductive, pansexual, sure of himself, maybe something promiscuous. And then you add that he is supposedly an elite Gotham kid who asks and receives what and whoever he wants, more out of habit than anything else. Let's say my general hc of Dick is always (yandere or not) demisexual with all that goes with it and even with what has happened to him in this verse in essence he can be still defined as jovial, responsible and tactical although with weird emotional disconnections when alone with Reader.

As yandere he himself is not exactly always conscious of what he is since both as an acrobat and as a Talon, giving yourself into something is actually encouraged to do. He is possessive and obsessive, always observant, he can stare at Reader for hours and he really regrets not being able to watch them in their sleep (his little fantasy). He also knows that Reader is the bat but since no one has ordered him to find their identity... he just "takes" them in both ways, what he wants most is all their expressions, whether good or bad, want their eyes focused on him.

As Talon is normal for him do that thing of staring you turn his head like an owl added to being perched in one place for hours is creepy.. Like Ric he usually controls himself, but sometimes he shoots you some glances that remind you that owls eat bats and for sure at least chill runs up your spine with his damned almost gowling eyes.

Extra:

Reader is not a member of the Justice League, but an "anonymous benefactor" (gives funds and information), original JLA in their verse aka Earth 1T8 are Superman, WonderWoman, Aquaman, Flash, GreenLantern, MartianManhunter, Zatanna and Cyborg. First Teen Titans are actually kinda a big team in little groups because I love them all so I must mention them: Robin (Tim), Starfire, Raven, Terra, Beast Boy, SuperboyBat (Conner now Wayne adopting them all!!), Miss Martian, Kid Flash (Bart Allen or Wally), Aqualad (Kaldur'ahm), WonderGirl (yes both Donnay Troy and Cassandra Sandmark as Troia/Darkstar and Fury/Lariat)

Diana was suspicious, then obsess and consequently was the first person to discover that Reader is JLA's benefactor. Helped that Cyborg was polite and didn't think about tracking down a good person and the other members did not care because respect a Reader who leave well on paper with everything clean and legal to help them.

"TRUE" TIMELINE BATFAM

In a side event the Batfam of the "true" line was thrown out of their reality by demons but Zatanna and Raven managed to perform magic that would send them to an universe that could help return them home quickly. Because CrazyPreparedReader has literally searched and make for gadgets for everything, including obviously flashpoints and dimensional travels (Reader was reborn isekaied after all) was the natural first selection for the spell.

Bruce more like was really suspicious of the whole situation of another self who was actually not him or a female version of him or an actual sanguine relative although after a long time interacting -investigating, creeping- Reader and looking to return to his universe... let's just say having another equal Wayne fond of adopting children whom Damian easyly cared for some reason and who seemed super out and extressed of their own universe (even when their Gotham looked almost as good as his Metropolis minus the Owls, which said a lot about his counterpart work)... didn't sound so bad.

Bruce feels he must keep his parents' last treasure (from another universe) safe. Plus he can tell they're not actual bat-material... bat-erial??

Dick is horrified by his "posh" version and has quickly deduced he's probably part of the Talon, if not The Talon from Court (even if nobody says nothing) that so much stress gives the even-if-same-life-still-not-sour-but-sweet Reader (nobody knows Readers baby memories). Also only from what he has heard from his 1T8 siblings about the behavior of his civil persona only with Reader, he can deduce that they're special to his other self and cannot help but stare and wonder and ending obsessing why.

Damian quickly became attached to the bat with a more lax morality attuned with him, Reader who also knew in advance of Damian's personality and didn't take things personally so their first interactions were not hampered by any social deprivation of the younger man (in addition, Reader has deal for years with yandere versions of his mother and grandfather so...) They can't help but feel a soft spot for "the chick" (or not so chick now, but anyway don't tell him they call him so though) who kept such heart even under such childhood.

He actually gets alongs with 1T8 Ivy & Harley (like they could get mess up his hair without glares along) so nobody let Ivy and him together in any "save the planet" event... or Harley and him without a to-do-list more than a couple of hours.

I don't know who is responsible for the "beloved" but I think he is a general hc at this point and I love it but since in Arabic, usually translates Habibi (♂️) or Habibti (♀️), in my AU if you would want traslate it Damian could use the term "Omri" (beloved too and also means age and never, but we're not going to get into that, right lovebugs?)... eini are sweetest for me though.

[marvelouspeterparker]

pretty special

PAIRING: pornstar!sebastian stan x pornstar!reader

SUMMARY: you shoot your first scene with the acclaimed and widely admired adult film star, sebastian stan.

WARNINGS: cliché porn scenario (dad's friend) + daddy kink + age gap + dirty talk + oral (m and f rec.) + unprotected sex + creampie

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

NOTES: this was part of this fic for tom but i extracted it in case some sebastian fans that don't read for tom wanted to read it, since i'm going to be writing for him now :)

––✧––

You were a bit nervous walking into work––working with one of the biggest stars was understandably a daunting experience. You didn’t want to seem like a complete amateur next to him, especially not when you were working with him. And on top of that, you’d been watching his videos for years now, since you were a teenager, and he never once lost his charm or his spark.

You could see how he’d evolved throughout all of his videos––when he was just a young fresh face that captured the hearts of many, to his long-haired phase, to his short hair and stubble phase, each and everyone one was just as enchanting and seductive.

You’d seen the way he managed to have chemistry with every actress he worked with––how they would all fall under his allurement, get flustered from just one look. If you were being honest, you could see Tom becoming the next actor of that status––he’d already had such a good reputation among the industry and the viewers seemed to love him as well. So the fact that you were going to get the opportunity to be with both of them? Well not at the same time, but if you did, you would most certainly melt on the spot. But even separately––You felt like you were going to combust.

Sebastian was now in his late thirties, but he looked better than ever, his eyes just as smoldering, even through a screen. He kept his hair short now and often let his beard grow out, which you personally loved. Since he had a very promising reputation––and everyone that he’s worked with has only had enticing things to say about him and his skills, you couldn’t say that you weren’t excited and honored to work with him.

The scene you were filming today took place in multiple places, all of which were in a home––so for work today you showed up to one of the many unfinished houses the agency used for filming. Within no time you were dressed and in the makeshift makeup room in one of the spare bedrooms with Olive, the makeup artist, putting the finishing touches on your face. Your look was supposed to be more natural today so it didn’t take too long since you only needed some light coverage.

“You nervous sweetie?” She asked, dabbing the beauty blender under your eyes.

You looked up at her, a sheepish smile on your face. “Of course I am, it’s Sebastian Stan.”

She waved you off, “Oh don’t be. He’s the sweetest thing, really.” She placed the beauty blender on the vanity. “You know a little birdie told me that he asked for you personally.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “What? Are you serious?”

She nodded, pursing her lips. “And he doesn’t do that for just anyone, so he must think you’re pretty special.” She started cleaning up her station. “That should put you at ease, right?”

“I mean…” You looked into the mirror and trailed off when you noticed a familiar face walk into the room. You’d never seen him in person until now, so far only watching him on the screen of your phone in the privacy of your room––but seeing him in front of you was something else.

Olive noticed you trail off and turned curiously before her eyes settled on the man walking towards her. He walked over to your makeup artist, a big smile on his face as he opened his arms. “Olive! How are you?”

She smiled, hugging him back. “I’m good honey, how are you?”

He bit his lip, failing to tame his grin when they both pulled away. “I’m good.” He turned to you, “Especially since I’m going to be filming with this one today.” You got up to walk over to him and he smiled, placing a hand on your waist and kissing your cheek in greeting. He looked down at you and you could genuinely feel yourself drowning in his eyes. How were you going to manage looking into them while he was literally inside of you?

“Hi doll, how are you? It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Hi.” You cleared your throat when your voice came out weaker than expected but before you could continue, Olive interrupted you.

“She’s a little nervous, Seb.” You looked over to her like an annoyed daughter, berating her with your eyes as she walked away from you both, a glint in her eyes, but Sebastian’s eyes never left your face. You looked back to him to find a smirk on his face and you smiled awkwardly.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about honey,” he brought a hand under your chin and tilted your head up when you looked away. “I promise I don’t bite,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “That is, unless you want me to.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine and he chuckled as he pulled away to look at you. “Seems like you want me to, hm?”

You licked your lips subconsciously and he smiled, taking your hand in his. “Well you know, I asked for you personally?”

You blinked up at him, “Yeah I heard.”

He smiled, rolling his eyes as he pointed his thumb behind him at Olive’s retreating figure. “From that one I bet.” You smiled and nodded and he shook his head pretending to be exasperated, but the smile on his face contradicted that.

“Why did you? Ask for me?” You asked sheepishly, not wanting to come off as rude. But it was a little strange to have such a big star ask for you when you’re not even that established of an actor yet.

His thumb rubbed the back of your hand soothingly but the action was only sending tingles down your body. “Well I’ve seen your work,” he tilted his head. “And I know talent when I see it.” He stepped closer to you so that his breath was teasing your lips ever so slightly, his eyes piercing yours. “I also know a good girl when I see one.”

Your breath hitched, your thighs pressed together and he squeezed your hand playfully. “We’re gonna have some fun today.” He started to tug you along. “Let’s go, okay?”

You nodded, the nerves in your stomach quickly turning to excitement and lust. “Okay.”

–––

You weren’t going to take pictures before the scene today––Sebastian, having been in the industry for some time now, and having made a name for himself, was able to pull some strings nowadays and have more control over what he wanted. He didn’t really like the idea of faking for the camera, so much so that he didn’t take photos before the scenes he shot, he convinced the crew to take action shots while they were filming, so the reactions were real.

The directors knew not to rush him or the actresses he worked with during his scenes, and for that reason, no one that ever worked with him had to hurry up and fake their climaxes for the camera––they were all completely genuine and just as mind-shattering as they appeared on screen.

The scene you were filming today was different than anyone you’d done before. You were playing a young daughter who’s come home from college for the summer, and Sebastian was playing your “father”’s friend. It was a slightly controversial theme and story, but at the end of the day it wasn’t real so.

After greeting everyone, going over a few last minute things, and getting settled, the scene began.

Your “dad” and Sebastian were in the living room, talking while they watched tv for a few minutes, and you waited for your cue to step out. You came down the stairs and the camera followed you as you descended and panned out to show the three of you as you walked past them to go to the kitchen. You could feel Sebastian’s gaze trailing down your body as scripted, the camera focusing on him as he checked you out, your body also in focus as you moved by the lens.

“Excuse me young lady,” your fake father recited his line and you turned back a sweet smile on your face as you looked at him.

“Yes daddy?”

“Don’t be rude,” he chastised, “Say hello to our guest. My buddy from work, you’ve met him a few times over the past couple years, remember?”

You let your eyes fall to Sebastian and your smile widened. “Oh, right!” You walked over to him. “I’m so sorry. So nice to see you again!” You bent down and watched him take a sharp inhale as his gaze fell to your breasts before you wrapped your arms around him in a hug.

He brought his arms around you and squeezed tight, his hands lingering when you pulled away, his voice low. “Yeah it’s really nice to see you too.” He licked his lips before looking back up into your eyes and you felt your stomach flutter from the look in them. “You’ve really grown up since I last saw you.”

You shrugged as well, turning to see your “dad” not paying attention to your conversation before leaning in to whisper in Sebastian’s ear. “Way more than you know.” He bit his lip and you giggled before walking off, feeling his eyes stuck to your ass that was peeking out of your shorts.

You went to the kitchen to get a snack, conveniently walking so that the camera didn’t pick up the unfinished portion of the house, nearby. You followed the script, pretending to look around, a thoughtful look on your face as you picked up random fruits while Sebastian stared at you from the other room. After a minute or two, you turned around and went into the fridge, scanning the almost empty shelves before bending down to look near the bottom.

You felt a pair of hands slide over your ass to hold your waist and a rather impressive bulge press into your backside. “Pardon me.” You could hear the smirk in his gravelly voice as he reached over you, your body still bent over and pressed into his front. He grabbed a bottle from the top shelf before pulling away and leaning against the counter next to the fridge. You looked to the side to see him opening a bottle of water, a cheeky smile on his face as he shamelessly checked you out. “Just getting water.” He sipped from it without looking away from you and you bit your lip.

“Of course.” You closed the fridge and walked up to him as he was tilting the bottle down from his lips. You reached over behind him on the counter, while subtly grabbing his bulge in his jeans. He gasped and looked down at your hand, then across to the other room to make sure your “father” wasn’t watching before turning his head to you.

You bat your eyelashes up at him, teasingly innocent and brought your hand back to show the banana you’d just gotten. “And I was just getting a snack.” You squeezed him harder and pulled away completely, leaning on the kitchen island across from him as you peeled the fruit. His eyes were mesmerized as he watched you lick along the banana, your gaze unwavering. You slowly put the fruit into your mouth as far as you could go and his jaw dropped as you started bobbing your head up and down.

Just as it stated in the script, ever so distracted and preoccupied, his hand “accidentally” squeezed the water bottle and water splashed everywhere and all over the floor. He cursed loudly and your “dad” perked up.

“Everything alright?”

Sebastian looked up, convincingly looking flustered and you turned. “Yeah! We just spilled some water, but it’s okay I’ll clean it up!”

“Okay. Thank you sweetheart.”

You turned back around and grabbed some napkins, getting down on your knees in front of Sebastian and his eyes followed you all the way down. You half heartedly wiped down the tiles before looking up at him. Your eyes trailed down his body and you smirked, grabbing his hand. “Your hand is all wet. Let me get that for you.” Before he could say anything, you swiped your tongue along his fingers. You kept your eyes on his as your tongue made its way around his hand. You slipped two of his fingers into your mouth and he paused before slowly sliding them in and out, almost making you gag and you smiled up at him as you pulled off.

Your hands slid up his legs, one of them grazing his bulge as you made your way up to his zipper but his hand stopped you from going any further. He clenched his jaw, looking ahead before looking back down at you. “Your dad––”

You shook your head eagerly, “He won’t see anything.” The kitchen island was conveniently tall enough to hide you, so you weren’t lying. “You just have to be quiet.” You blinked up at him. “Can you do that?”

He bit his lip. “Shit––” He brought a hand up to rub the back of his head and let go of the hand of yours that he was holding. “O––Okay.” His hand came down to caress your cheek gently and you quickly turned your head to kiss his palm before reaching up and slowly unzipping his jeans. You pulled his pants and briefs down a bit before pulling his cock out and stroking it lightly but he quickly captured your attention again before you could gawk at his size, his hand firmly grabbing your jaw to make you look up at him. “Keep your eyes on me baby girl, got it?” You nodded immediately.

“Yes, got it.”

His grip tightened. “Yes who?”

You tilted your head, pretending to be confused. “Yes… daddy?”

He smiled, cooing down at you. “Such a good girl.” He briefly glanced up to the living room before looking back at you. “Now spit on daddy’s cock. Get it nice and wet for me.”

You nodded, “Yes daddy.” You gathered the drool in your mouth before spitting on his cock and stroking it. You licked along the base before wrapping your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it and sucking hard, making him grip the counter behind your head.

He cursed, “That mouth is fucking amazing, doll.”

You smiled as best you could around him, knowing that that line wasn’t in the script––you were just doing a good job and he felt the need to let you know. You felt yourself get wetter in your shorts and luckily enough, your next instruction was to bring a hand down to touch yourself in the scene. Your hand slipped past your cotton shorts and you brought your fingers down to swipe through your wetness and spread it along your slit before rubbing your clit. You hummed around Sebastian’s length and he pulled you into him, a hand around the back of your neck as he shallowly thrust into your mouth, not wanting to hurt you or make you gag too hard.

“God, are you touching yourself baby girl?” You looked up at him, pretending to be embarrassed and he chuckled breathlessly. “Such a filthy little slut aren’t you? Touching yourself, sucking my big cock and calling me daddy while your real father is sitting just in the other room…” He tutted playfully. “What a naughty fucking girl you are.” You whined and his mouth dropped open as you started sucking harder.

“Gonna make me cum. Keep doing that. Yes, just like that.”

Your “father” spoke up, asking Sebastian if he was coming back and Sebastian gulped, looking up at him with wide eyes as you stroked him quickly, your mouth sucking his tip loudly and harshly. He coughed in a useless attempt to cover the sound and looked around awkwardly. “Uh yeah! Yeah, just uh in a minute.”

“Okay but the game’s getting good man! Don’t wanna miss it.” He paused, “Hey have you seen my daughter around?”

You hummed around Sebastian and his eyes rolled back for a second before he straightened out. “Uh no, nope I haven’t seen her.”

“Huh, well I’m sure she’s fine. She knows how to take care of herself.”

Sebastian looked down at you, your hand still between your thighs. “Damn right she does.” His tongue swiped over his bottom lip as he locked eyes with you. “Know how to take care of me too, don’t you?” He nodded, “Mhm, yes you do.” Seeing him above you like that, hearing the praises he was whispering to you in his deep voice were enough to get you worked up. You could feel yourself getting closer and just as your cue came to orgasm, you didn’t have to fake it. You moaned and your back straightened out, your thighs closing around your hand as you came in your shorts. You blinked, snapping yourself out of your reverie and started bobbing your head up and down and Sebastian bit his fist, his hand gripping your neck as he thrusted a few times before cumming in down your throat.

You sucked around him as he throbbed in your mouth and he breathed out roughly as he pulled out. You smiled up at him, showing his release to the camera before swallowing it and showing him your tongue afterwards. He pulled you up and took the hand that was in your shorts, bringing it up to his lips before slipping your two fingers coated in your wetness, into his mouth. He kept his eyes on yours as he licked and sucked them clean, a seductive look in his stare.

Your lips parted in arousal and shock as he pulled away, a smirk on his face. “Delicious.” Your hand fell down to your side and you blinked a few times, looking up at him.

“Come find me in my room so you can return the favor.” You smiled and walked up to your room without looking back.

He tucked himself back into his pants and went after you after a few minutes, excusing himself to use the bathroom upstairs.

The director yelled cut and you had a ten minute break to freshen up before the next part of the scene. You didn’t have a lot to touch up so by the time Sebastian came up you were already in the bedroom for the next part. He came into the room a few minutes before you had to film again, eyes finding you as you sat on the bed.

He smiled softly, licking his lips and you pressed your thighs together which didn’t go unnoticed by him. “That mouth really is something else, doll.” He laughed, “Almost made me forget where I was.”

You bit your lip as the camera crew came in, setting everything up. You looked up at him and smiled sheepishly. “That’s a good thing, right?”

There was a glint in his eyes as he looked at you. “A really damn good thing, yeah.”

Feeling the heat of his gaze, you averted your eyes and you could sense him smile as he walked out of the room, preparing to film the last part of the scene. The crew made sure the lighting was alright and set up the cameras and the microphones before the director called action.

The camera focused on you as you pretended to scroll mindlessly on your phone as the other camera followed Sebastian up the steps. He paused, making sure no one was around before opening your door, slipping in and shutting it behind him.

You looked up and smirked, setting your phone aside. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.”

He pulled his shirt off as he walked towards the edge of the bed. “And miss my chance to taste that sweet pussy? You must be crazy.”

You laughed breathlessly as he climbed onto the bed and pulled you down to his level by your ankles. You smiled up at him and he captured your lips in a passionate kiss and you found yourself getting lost in the feeling of him on top of you. You slid your hands up to tug his hair and he growled, taking your wrists and pinning them above your head, making you gasp as he pressed himself into you and tilted his head to lick along your neck.

You arched your back under him and he continued to rub himself against you, only making you more desperate. After a few moments and a change of camera angles, he pulled your shirt off and slid down to pull your shorts off as well. He spread your legs slowly but firmly, his hands digging into your thighs as he glanced up at you, moving his head to press teasing kisses to your soft skin.

He kissed his way up your leg before licking a long stripe up your heat, his lips soon coming around to leave wet kisses to your slit. You brought your hands down to grip the sheets and he was quick to let go of your thighs and held your hands in his, by your sides.

Normally in these videos, the actors wouldn’t actually eat the actress out properly, only flicking their tongue lightly, wanting to show the camera and the viewers everything––but Sebastian wasn’t a fan of that method, so he buried his face between your thighs, eating you like you were his last meal.

“Taste so fucking sweet.” He smirked up at you when you whined, your fingers squeezing around his hands, as you squirmed under his hold. His tongue was lapping you up loudly but purposefully as he shook his head ferociously, groaning into you as your hips started to buck into his mouth.

“F––Fuck!”

He growled and quickened his pace before he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucking hard. Soon, your head fell back and your mouth dropped open, your back arching as you let out a silent cry. Your thighs tightened around his head when he let go of one of your hands and palmed your breast, tugging and teasing your nipples. He kept going until your legs were trembling, and only then did he pull away, licking his lips as he unbuttoned his pants and hastily tugged them off, throwing them off the bed.

He stroked his cock a few times before getting back between your legs and sliding it through your wetness. He tapped the tip on your clit and smiled when you jolted from the sensation. He then slid into you slowly, bottoming out smoothly, his hands pressing your thighs open so he could see all of you. He thrusted into you a few times slowly before picking up the pace gradually.

His eyes were transfixed on the way your pussy was swallowing him whole, clenching around him but one glance at your blissed out face had him twitching inside of you.

“Look at you. Taking my cock while your dad’s downstairs. Naughty girl.” He pounded into you hard and you moaned loudly. He brought a hand up to cover your mouth, leaning close to you as he kept pounding into you, your pleading eyes looking up at him. “Gotta be quiet baby girl, okay? Just stay there and take my cock like a good girl.”

You nodded, your hands coming up to hold his wrist as your eyes rolled back. He brought a hand down to rub at your clit and thrusted into you faster and you moaned behind his hand, your hips moving of their own accord.

“That’s it. Take that cock.”

In no time, he had you coming around his cock, his eyes watching you as you came undone, your body tensing before dropping back down to the bed gracefully, as if it were deflating. Just as you caught your breath, he pulled out and flipped you over onto your hands and knees.

“You okay baby?”

You nodded, smiling back at him. “Please fuck me.”

He groaned and slapped your ass before sliding back inside your tight walls. He grabbed your hips and fucked into you hard, the sound of your skin slapping against each other loud and enticing. He was moaning and cursing, pulling your hips back into his as he thrusted his cock into your opening. Your walls were tightening around him, coaxing him to tip over the edge.

His movements became more frantic, his fingertips turning white from the force he was using. “Fuck fuck fuck, gonna cum––”

You moaned at the ragged nature of his voice, the desperate pleas falling from his lips as he used you. “Please cum inside me, daddy.”

He cursed and came with a loud groan, his head falling back as he kept fucking you to prolong his high. His pace faltered and he soon slowed down before pulling out and moving aside to let the camera show the cum dripping out of you.

Once the camera got the shot, he slapped your ass playfully and grabbed it before pulling you up to sit on him. “Such a good girl.” He brought his hands up from your ass to your jaw and pulled you in for a reeling kiss. He licked into your mouth languidly, your tongues playing with each other as you both sighed and moaned into the kiss. He slipped a hand back down to play with your ass and you giggled, giving each other two more short kisses before pulling away and looking at each other, your eyes still cloudy with lust.

The director yelled cut and the shoot was over. Sebastian kept his eyes on you for a moment longer, his hands caressing your body. He kissed your cheek and whispered in your ear. “Knew you’d be a good girl for me.”

You whimpered and he grinned pulling back to look at you. “That was fucking amazing, doll. What’d you think?”

You shook your head, a smile on your lips. “I feel like I’m on cloud nine honestly.”

He smirked. “We’re definitely doing this again.”

––✧––

@ marvelouspeterparker 2021 –– please do not repost anywhere

[dumdumsun]

And Dusk

A/N: Just a heads up, the sensitive content in this chapter will be marked "<<<<<<" as the beginning and ">>>>>>" to signify the end. The racial slurs used in this chapter were targeted towards African Americans (and still are) and I chose these because I, myself, am African American and used them as a sort of “default” for any POC readers. ⚠️Please, never use these towards anyone. Whether it be in a “joking” manner or not. They are hurtful and were created to be that way⚠️ I wrote this chapter the way I did to bring awareness. Proceed with caution. Much love ❤️

Warnings: ⚠️racial slurs⚠️, violence, mentions of guns and dying/death

Word Count: 3707

—————————————

Chapter 3: The Frankel Footage

Shaking himself out of his shock, Five stood from his seat and hurried after his brother, grabbing onto his arm and stopping his strides. “The hell is wrong with you, Luther? I just told you the world’s gonna end in ten days!”

“Yeah, well, you’re always saying that.” Luther nonchalantly spoke before moving away, but Five intervened yet again.

“And so far, I’ve been right.” He hissed as Luther sighed and shook his head.

“Look, you want to go save the world? Knock yourself out, alright? I already got a job.”

“Wait, you work in this shithole?” The boy furrowed his brows.

“Yeah. Well, my boss owns the place,” Luther only received a nod from his brother, so he clarified. “I’m his body man.”

But this only made Five even more confused. “What’s that? Like, a masseuse or something?”

“Okay, you can make fun all you want, but I take good care of Mr Ruby.”

“Wait, Ruby. The Jack Ruby? The gangster who shot Oswald.”

Despite Five’s concern, Luther proudly smiled a smug smile as he glanced over at his boss. “Yeah. The one and only.”

“Well, it finally happened,” Five sighed. “That gorilla DNA has finally taken over your mind-”

“Hey, watch it, alright? Jack’s a good friend-”

“And you’re Number One. Numero Uno. Remember?”

Luther clenched his jaw and shook his head. “There is no Number One. Not anymore. Not in 1963,” When Five stared at him in disbelief, Luther sighed again. “Look, I’ve been stranded here alone for a year. What did you expect?”

Five scoffed. “I get it, alright? You watched Pogo die, the world exploded, and I marooned your big dumb ass in time. I’m sorry, okay? But I’m asking for your help, Luther. The Umbrella Academy needs you.”

“It doesn’t need me,” He slowly spoke to draw out his words. “It never did.”

“Luther, honey,” The waitress from earlier approached the two. “Jack’s about to lose it on some half-wit. A little help?”

“Ah, shit,” He groaned and began walking away. When Five tried yet again to stop him, he whirled on him, his lips pulled into a thin line. “Listen. You’re the genius who said we should jump, right? You’re the one who got us stuck here. And you’re the one who brought Vanya. So, if there is a doomsday coming, she’s probably the cause. And if I was gonna do something about it, it sure as hell is not gonna be with you. That’s (Y/N)’s job, being dragged around into your messes-”

“I don’t drag her into anything.” Five swallowed, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah? Well, she wasn’t stuck as a thirteen-year-old and constantly worrying about her kids until you showed up. I’m surprised she isn’t sick of you yet.” And with that, he stomped away to his boss. This time, Five let him go, his words sending a pang through his chest as he thought back on it. Grabbing his drink, he sighed and shook his head.

“Dad should’ve left him on the moon…” He muttered, taking a sip of his drink before moving to leave his seat. When he felt his jacket snag on something, he looked down to see an object in his pocket. Taking out the tape, he frowned and turned it over.

Date: 11/22/63

Subject: FRANKEL FOOTAGE

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

This world was unfamiliar to (Y/N). She knew she had to have been somewhere in America, but she didn’t know where. The cars, fashion and stores bringing the street she walked to life told her she had to have been in the sixties. But she didn’t want to believe it. Surely Five hadn’t time travelled that far? She had to have been dropped during some type of sixties-theme festival. But the voices suddenly beside her quickly prove her doubts wrong.

“What do we have here?”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a lost little colored girl.”

Tensing, (Y/N) continued her way down the sidewalk, slightly speeding up her pace, but the men fell into step beside her with ease, flanking her sides.

“You’re on the wrong side of town, girl.”

“Yeah, we don’t like coons around here.” One of them hissed right in her ear. Her eyes welled up with tears before the other shoved her forward.

“Gon now, get!” He ordered as if she were a dog. She realized that’s how they had seen her. An animal. Nothing more. Tripping on a crack in the sidewalk, she fell to the ground, smacking her face on the concrete. She choked out a sob as the two men cackled. And to make matters even worse, she felt the pitter patter of raindrops start to freeze her skin.

(Y/N) gasped out in shock when the men spit two wads of saliva in her face. She knew she must’ve looked a mess with spit and tears sliding down her cheeks and blood oozing from her nose. She hiccupped on her sobs and began to stand, much too tired from her previous fight with Vanya and literally being dropped from the sky to successfully do so. The men backed her up against a wall and one fisted the front of her vest before a voice called out.

“Take your hands off of my child!” Whipping around, the men were half expecting to find another target, but (Y/N) coughed and sputtered nonsense upon the person her gaze fell upon.

“M-Mom…?”

Before her was Grace, but… she wasn’t robotic in any sense. She could tell by the raw anger etched into her features. She took a brave step forward. “I said. Take your hands. Off my child.”

And that was another thing: her accent. (Y/N) was immediately comforted by the stern southern accent the woman shared with her attackers. It was a voice she never thought she needed. The two looked between Grace and (Y/N) with smirks. “You mean this lil ol’ jigaboo-”

“Is my daughter. Now you let her go before I call the police.”

“Woman, I don’t care if you call the police-”

Grace took it upon herself to step closer and grab the child by her arms, yanking her into her warm embrace. (Y/N) immediately latched onto her, quivering in her hold. The men scoffed and shook their heads, beginning to walk away. “Make sure to keep that thing on a leash if you’re gonna have it out, ma’am.”

“Oh, fuck off.” She growled before turning and walking back in the direction the girl came from. As they walked past the alleyway, Grace took out a handkerchief and began wiping the girl’s face clean of what the raindrops hadn’t already washed away. “It’s alright, hun, they aren’t gonna hurt you anymore.”

“T-Thank you.” (Y/N) sobbed and gently held her nose in pain. Grace crouched in front of her and gently held her face in between her hands.

“Don’t thank me, darlin’, it’s how everyone should be treatin’ you ‘round here… Where are your parents? I could take you to ‘em.”

(Y/N) thought for a long moment, watching as the rain soaked Grace’s hair and clothing. The woman didn’t seem to mind as she watched the girl before her swallowing thickly. (Y/N) skimmed over her current choices. She didn’t have any choice.

“I don’t have parents. I-I don’t remember them…”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“I’m tellin’ you, Reggie, she’s highly intelligent for a child her age.” Grace proudly presented (Y/N) to the man she had grown fond of over their time working together. (Y/N), however, was frozen in her spot. Sir Reginald Hargreeves. The man whose death she had wished upon for years, whose death had finally graced her existence, was back in her life. She flinched at the disapproving look on his face, much too acquainted with it by this point in her life. “And she’s very respectful. Talented, too, this girl can speak several languages.”

“You seem rather fond of this child.” The man observed as Grace squeezed her into her side.

“She’s my pride and joy.”

“And you cannot remember anything of your past, child?”

“N-No,” (Y/N) shook her head and stared down. “Not a lot. J-Just my name and birthday.”

Reginald hummed and stared her down with an unreadable expression. When she met his eyes again, he was crouched down to her level, his monocle clutched in his fist. “(Y/N), was it?”

“Yes.”

“It would be an honor to have your presence within my home, along with your mother.”

“O-Oh, that’s okay-”

“I insist. Besides, you have been living with her for almost half a year, correct? It is highly unlikely that she will share a home without you.”

“He’s right about that, hun,” (Y/N) glanced up at Grace, who was smiling warmly at her. “I’m not leavin’ you.”

(Y/N) could have cried.

And she did.

One year later, (Y/N) had been living quite the comfortable life with Grace and Reginald. She had been introduced to the ape, Pogo, for the second time since Grace first started working with him. As much as she loved being around the chimp, it brought back so many memories. She almost felt silly, looking after him sometimes knowing he had done the same for her in the original timeline.

Her relationship with Reginald was nothing she ever expected. He was gentle, well as gentle as Reginald Hargreeves could get, he cared for her, spoiled her, even. She wouldn’t have to ask for anything half the time. If he were to overhear a conversation between her and Grace about a dress she oh-so wanted, it would suddenly be laid out on her bed the next day. She usually had a say in dinner meals every Thursday and Sunday and Reginald listened intently whenever she would voice any discomfort or concerns with her living conditions. (Y/N) never had a real father, but she assumed this is what it was like to have one. She never wanted to let go of it.

For her birthday in 1963, she was surprised that he had actually gotten her a present. As she entered the parlor, she was met with the tiniest bark and an even tinier golden retriever, bounding up to her. She gasped and stopped low, letting him jump into her arms. She let him lick her face and giggled in the joy it brought her.

“Your mother said you would like it. Though I would never allow dogs in my house, I have come to understand that there are rules I must bend for you, my child.”

(Y/N) turned to her father. Yes, father. Reginald, also growing quite fond of their father-daughter bond formed between them, decided to adopt the girl. As much as his beliefs and his deep distaste for children protested. There was just something about this child. Or perhaps it was Grace’s insisting, reassuring him that he would make a wonderful father. (Y/N) was very hesitant at first for her own reasons she never shared, but eventually came around to the idea of being his daughter again.

This was the same Reginald Hargreeves who locked her in a dark room for five days straight, but also an entirely different man. Perhaps it was her fascination with the differences, or maybe she just wanted a real father for once.

“Thank you, Dad.” She softly smiled, the man nodding in response.

“But this is your pet, (Y/N). It is your responsibility. I will not find it in my study, in my bedroom, you are to train it yourself-”

“Can you-”

“And no, I will not help you pick out its name.”

The girl softly groaned and looked back down at her new puppy. Looking into its eyes, she smiled softly at a distant memory as a small child.

“Welcome to the family, Mr Pennycrumb.”

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

(Y/N) groaned when she felt the sunbeams of the early morning sunrise hit her eyelids, coloring her black vision with the stinging fire of orange. Rolling onto her other side, she stretched her blanket over her head. They were yanked away the next second, causing a whine to leave her lips. “Mom… Five more minutes.”

“I let you sleep in long enough, hun, it’s time to get up. You have a date with Preston this afternoon.” Grace gently pulled her daughter to sit up, giggling quietly at her look of disgust.

“Preston? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously, let’s get goin’.” Grace patted her leg and walked to her door, waiting patiently. (Y/N) sighed and rubbed her face, letting her feet slide into her slippers. As they descended the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast, Reginald could hear his daughter’s sleepy complaining from his place at the table.

Setting his utensils down, he turned his head in their direction. “My child, how many times throughout each week must we have to repeat this conversation?”

“Until it starts making sense.” (Y/N) stepped into the dining room, now in her robe, and crossed her arms over her chest. Reginald sighed and stood from his chair at the table.

“You are one of my greatest accomplishments,” He began towards her. “There is no doubt in my mind that you would make a fine successor. I do not believe you will need a husband. In fact, you would be better off without another individual holding you back from what you are truly capable of.”

“But?” She raised a brow.

“But… I have grown to know you more than I expected… and I know that you would need someone to help manage your finances you inherit once I am gone. Preston is a fine young man who was born into this life, made into this life. He will take good care of you.”

(Y/N) knew there was only one person in this world who would truly take good care of her. But he wasn’t here, and she needed to play the part as the amnesiac adopted daughter, so she huffed and nodded. “Fine… I’ll go…”

“Thank you-”

“But only if Mr Pennycrumb can go, too.”

“Very well, but you will not be gifted another animal if you lose it.”

The outing wasn’t entirely bad. (Y/N) didn’t mind the picnic or the art museum, it was the company that made her blood boil. Preston is anything she would have expected out of him. This had been their seventh date, tenth of the ones he planned. (Y/N) sought out any opportunity she could to cancel on him to save herself from the unbearable three hours she would have to spend with the kid. He was arrogant, smug, selfish, narcissistic, and overbearing. Of course, this was not the Preston he presented to her parents. No, to them, Preston was ‘a fine man with a bright future ahead of him’, or as Grace would put it, ‘a delight to have around’. He laughed like a drunk, talked like a husband, and smelled like a man. All at the age of fifteen. (Y/N) had to remind herself on several occasions that she was mentally the older out of the two and to not stoop to his level when he got under her skin.

“Don’t you think, (Y/N)?” The voice brought her attention back to the boy beside her. She looked up from the grass they had been strolling through. When she hummed in question, he amusedly scoffed and side-step closer to her. “Never mind. I should have known you wouldn’t have been interested in politics.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The girl raised a brow. At her confusion, he laughed and gently tapped the side of his head.

“You’ve always got that head of yours in the clouds. Or turned behind you- like right now.”

(Y/N) turned her head away from where she had been looking over her shoulder. “What? Sorry, Preston, I’m a little preoccupied today.”

“With what, exactly? You don’t seem to be the type of girl to have very many issues. Nothing to worry about.”

“And you wonder why I don’t listen to you.” She sighed as her puppy ran in between her legs, rolling in the grass once he was a few paces in front of them. Preston frowned in distaste and shook his head.

“You should really keep that thing on a leash, sweetheart.”

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, clenching her teeth as she folded her hands behind her back. “Really now?”

“Really. You know, I’m not very fond of dogs, so I’m not sure how it’ll work out once we’re married. I think we should get one after we have kids, you know? Just so the kids could grow up with it.”

(Y/N) quickly turned her head to the left, pointing out across the street. “Preston, would you look at that?”

“Look at what?” He gullibly looked in the direction, (Y/N) quickly checking the area before almost silently singing her tune. From her shadow, her clone formed and robotically walked behind the two. She quickly switched spots with it and ordered the clone to walk with Preston before scooping her puppy into her arms and rushing off in the opposite direction. Once she was behind a diner far away from their date location, she let out a sigh and gently patted her dog on the head.

“Were you sick of it, too?” She chuckled. Resting the back of her head against the brick wall she leaned on, she let out a slow breath and began to relax. The sound of guns cocking had her head snapping up so fast, she swore she could have dislocated it. Just down the end of the line of stores were three white-haired men, one in a milkman uniform, training their guns on her. (Y/N) didn’t waste a second tucking her dog in front of her and spinning around, charging down the opposite direction as bullets whizzed past her. She dodged them the best she could, jumping a few feet in the air at the ones that threatened to take their place in her feet. It was like a dance; the twisting, spinning and jumping, and she was to perform this dance until one of those bullets killed her if she didn’t find a way out soon. Sliding to the side of a clothing store for cover, she gently shushed her pet as she caught her breath.

The three sets of footsteps eventually found their destination and rounded the corner with skilled quickness, shooting at the girl until she was nothing more than a bloodied corpse on the ground, bullet holes lodged in almost every inch of her body. The three men nodded to each other and turned around, making their way out from behind the stores.

(Y/N) had already been down the street from her house by the time her attackers found the clone in her place. She couldn’t have been bothered to check herself for any wounds, too worried about Mr Pennycrumb’s potential bullet wounds. But the pup was perfectly, happily nuzzling into her arms and wagging his tail. This left (Y/N) to ponder.

Who the hell were those men?

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

“Is it on?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? There’s an ‘on’ button. Just- There’s something over- that jigga-ma-thing, whatever.”

“I hit the jigga-ma-thing!”

“Okay, well, just- Give it to me. I know how to do this.”

“Alright, here, here. Hurry up.”

“Okay, alright, let’s see…”

Lila didn’t look up from her task of painting poor Elliott’s toenails, his bindings he received after threatening the trio with a gun preventing him from moving too much. Which was beneficial to her, as it kept her from ruining the paint job. She softly smiled as she listened to the argument between the elderly couple on the film Five and Diego were intently watching. “They’re so cute,” She commented. “I love old couples. I’m always so proud of them for not murdering each other.”

Ignoring her, Diego turned to his brother from his seat on Elliott’s counter. “Why are we watching this?”

“Shush.” Five replied, eyes trained on the film before him, searching for any clue to the approaching apocalypse, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Yeah, I… I’m Dan Frankel. And…”

“I’m Edna Frankel.”

“...Edna Frankel. We are in Dallas, Texas, to see the president. Today’s date is November 22, 1963.”

Five nodded as everyone’s attention was brought to the projected screen before them.

“That’s six days from now.” Lila spoke as Elliott thrashed about more against his bindings. Diego sat forward in interest.

“Holy shit. This is it. The grassy knoll. Kennedy’s about to get shot. How do you have this?”

“Hazel died to get me this footage,” Five answered. “It must be the key to stopping doomsday.”

“Hazel…?” Diego frowned, remembering the man he spent hours searching for and planning to kill to avenge the death of Eudora Patch.

“Long story.”

“What’s doomsday?” Lila looked up at the boy.

“Longer story.”

“What exactly did he say to you?” Diego asked as Lila turned her head back to the film.

Five shrugged. “Well, he was killed before he could explain. But whatever he wanted us to see, it’s on this film.”

“This is very exciting.” The old man smiled before the sound of gunshots and screaming could be heard, the camera moving around in blurs due to the shock of the old woman filming.

“Oh, my god!”

“Oswald…” Diego whispered, setting his knife down as Five leaned in closer.

“The president!”

When the camera was steadied to record across the street, Five and Diego both stiffened in their spots at what their eyes caught. “Oh, no…” Five breathed and moved behind the projector, rewinding the film and scooting the cart backwards to zoom in closer. The room was silent as Diego stood to his feet and Five rounded the cart before standing beside his brother, directly in front of the film. “This can’t be…”

“Okay, you gonna fill me in now, boys?” Lila glanced between the two. “What the hell is this shit we’re watching?”

But she was ignored yet again.

“No, that’s impossible…”

“Clearly, it’s not.”

“What… What is it?” Elliott muffled past the gag in his mouth.

A beat of silence went by before the two Hargreeves whispered in unison,

“Dad.”

—————————————

Taglist: @unfortu-nate-ly @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @sm0kingcrack @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @starstormssymphony @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @simping-4-fictional-men @hehehehannahthings @harrystylescherrie @rhain3 @himikaphoo @zerocanonlywriteshit @xxeiraxx @camerondiaz48104 @isawachickeninatree

[bowlegsandbiceps]

Suptober Day 5: Nostalgia

General | De-Aged Sam Winchester & Big Brother Dean, Implied Destiel and Rowena/Sam | 2,005 Words

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

“Cas.”

“Dee!” The small child in front of Dean raised its arms and made gimme hands.

“CAS!”

Dean took a step back from the small boy sitting where his brother used to be, his arms curling in as if cringing away. It looked like Sam at eighteen months, just the slightest swirl of brown hair near his forehead, the rest of him bald as a cue ball. The child blinked up at him, arms still outstretched but his smile wavered and his hands gestured more insistently.

“Castiel get your feathery ass over here!”

The sound of hurried footsteps loomed behind him and he felt the weight of Castiel’s hand on his shoulder as the other man came to stand beside him.

“What is it?”

Dean nodded down at the baby. Castiel looked at it and blinked.

“Who is that?”

Dean knew who it was. “I dunno.”

“Where’s Sam?” Castiel looked around and Dean felt the lump grow in his throat.

The child had clamored onto his knees and was crawling across the cement towards them. Dean recoiled and Castiel stepped in front of him on instinct. The child merely went around him and grabbed onto Dean’s pant leg, grunting as he pulled himself up to his feet.

“Dee!” He said again, chubby face gazing up into Dean’s. “Up!”

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice was cautious as Dean leaned down to pick the child up, settling him on his hip and the boy immediately rested his head against DEan’s chest, one thumb going into his mouth. “I… I think that’s Sam.”

Dean gulped, looking down into intelligent hazel eyes. “I think you’re right.”

#

Dean and Castiel sat at one of the large library tables each just staring at the baby they’d placed in the middle. Neither men had spoken the entire drive back to the bunker, Dean driving with Sam in his lap while the kid made vroom noises and held onto the wheel. The chair creaked as Castiel shifted in his seat. Sam blew a spit bubble then giggled when it popped. Dean put his head in his hands.

“What do we do?”

“I could try and heal him,” Castiel suggested and Dean looked up at him.

“You can heal this?” 

Castiel shrugged with guileless eyes.

Dean dropped his head. “I can’t raise this kid again, Cas.” Dean pressed his hands together, his mouth puckering against the knuckles of his thumbs as he looked at Sam with terrified eyes. “I did it once. I can’t do it again. I’m too fucking old.”

Castiel laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “We’ll fix him. We’ll call Rowena.” Dean snorted. “What? She has a vested interest in getting Sam back into his adult form.”

Dean closed his eyes, holding up and hand and gagging for good measure. “Don’t remind me.”

#

Rowena was in New York and wouldn’t arrive until morning. Dean bit the bullet and went out for supplies - bottles, diapers, wipes, baby food, and a pack of onesies he just guessed on the size. When he got back to the bunker he could hear Sam wailing from the other side of the heavy iron door and he nearly broke his neck in his effort to descend the stairs all at once.

Sam was sitting in the middle of the table in the exact same spot he’d been when Dean had left. Castiel was now standing, staring down at the hiccoughing child with his head canted to the side. Dean dropped all his bags on the floor and hurried over, bundling Sam up in the flannel Sam had been wearing before he de-aged and cradled him to his chest. Sam immediately stopped crying and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“What the fuck, Cas?”

“I tried everything, Dean.” Castiel held up his hands in a helpless gesture. “He didn’t want to play with my keys. He didn’t want any mashed potatoes. He threw the cup of water I tried to give him. He didn’t urinate or defecate on himself-“

“He wanted to be held!” Dean stared at Castiel as if he were some kind of monster and Castiel leveled him with a glare.

“I tried that first. He didn’t want to be held.”

“Well looks like he does now,” Dean snarked, shrugging his shoulders up and Castiel rolled his eyes.

“He wanted to be held by you, Dean.”

Dean looked down, trying to see Sam’s face but the child turned further into his neck and sighed. Dean pursed his lips. “What’s your problem short stack?”

“Dee,” Sam started and began to babble, lifting his head about halfway through his diatribe. He looked to Cas who was staring at him critically as if trying to decipher every word and Sam immediately looked away.

“Do you think he’s all there? Like adult Sam but just…a baby?” Dean looked into his eyes and Sam huffed, grabbing onto Dean’s face with his hands. Dean didn’t bother to pull back, knowing from experience the kid didn’t let up with this kind of thing. He stuck his fingers in Dean’s mouth and Dean dutifully let him poke at his teeth.

“I don’t think so,” Castiel reached forward, pulling Sam’s hands out of Dean’s mouth and Sam slapped at him, reaching again for Dean’s lips.

“Are you-“ Dean cut off nearly biting the kid’s finger off. “Are you hungry or something?”

“Dee!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and then he patted his tummy which made Dean laugh. 

“Yeah, the bear in there is growling huh?” Sam nodded emphatically and Dean bobbed his head with him. “Alright alright. Bottle it is.”

Castiel helped Dean carry the supplies into the kitchen and stood by as Dean went about making the bottle, formula mixed with a little cereal, with Sam perched on his hip. He huffed when he finally got the cap on and handed it to Sam who finally let go of his neck and grabbed the bottle, immediately shoving the nipple in his mouth. Dean looked up at Castiel.

“Like riding a bike,” Dean quipped looking down at Sam as his brother gazed up at him over the side of his bottle. “Right Sammy?”

Sam merely hummed. 

#

“You know, this isn’t so bad,” Dean mused gazing down at Sam who was now dressed in a diaper and onesie, sucking away at a pacifier. 

They were posted up on the couch in the Dean Cave, the TV playing Dora The Explorer in the background. Castiel’s gaze was fixed on the television and he was having trouble pulling his eyes away.

“He is much more enjoyable when he’s quiet,” Castiel admitted and Dean snorted a laugh, one finger trailing over the soft skin of Sam’s cheek. The baby shook his head.

“You know bedtime routine was always my favorite.” Dean smoothed the silky strip of hair near his forehead and Sam’s eyelids fluttered. “The winding down period at the end of the day. We’d be in some crap motel and Dad would have us all on one bed, Sammy between us while he talked us to sleep.”

“Talked you to sleep?”

A small smile pulled at Dean’s lips as one of Sam’s fat fists clutched at his finger. “Yeah, John Winchester did not sing. Or tell bedtime stories. He bored us to sleep with car maintenance tips and tricks.” Dean let out a spastic chuckle, marveling at the length of Sam’s lashes, the rosiness of his cheeks. “God, I’d forgotten all about that.”

Dean resettled, arms tightening around his brother and Sam’s eyelids fluttered, his head nuzzling into Dean’s armpit. Dean let his fingertips whisper across Sam’s forehead, a sense of longing settling in his bones. He glanced over at Castiel who was bent in half, intent on the TV.

“You know it wasn’t all bad. How we were raised.” Castiel glanced at him and then his gaze held. “I never thought I’d miss it but,” Dean let out a small chuckle, “This right here’s got me waxing nostalgic.” Dean chuckled again, gave a shake of his head. “It wasn’t all bad. Some of it was actually kind of great. You ever think about having kids, Cas?”

“It’s forbidden,” Castiel said, eyes back on the TV. “Angels can’t mate with humans.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah well, I ain’t got a uterus so we wouldn’t get one the old-fashioned way anyway. Seriously, man. You’ve never thought about it?”

Castiel looked back at Dean. “No. Have you?”

Dean shrugged. “Not really. Never figured I’d live long enough to raise one, plus I thought I’d had my fill with Sammy here.” Dean dipped his head, pressing a kiss to the child’s hairline.

“And now you want children?” Castiel’s voice was low and slow, clearly trying to discern if Dean was teasing him or not. Dean’s ears turned red.

“I dunno. No. Maybe.” Dean looked down at Sam and then looked back up at Castiel, his gaze helpless. Castiel merely smiled, reaching a hand out to rest on Dean’s shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I would be honored to raise a child with you, Dean.”

Dean looked back, a little grin pulling at his lips. “Yeah?” Castiel nodded seriously and Dean looked down at Sam. “What do you think, Sammy? You want a niece or nephew?”

Sam slept on.

#

“I take it back,” Dean insisted, gagging and covering his mouth as he lifted Sam up by the ankles, the dirty diaper sticking to his butt. “I never wanna do this again.” Dean looked over his shoulder at Castiel. “Hey, Mr. Angel of the Lord, you wanna give me a hand here, maybe toss this dirty diaper and hand me some wipes.”

“The smell is most unpleasant.”

Dean rolled his eyes, snatching the wipes Castiel offered. “No shit Sherlock. Get rid of that thing will you?” Dean gagged again.

#

“How on earth did you manage to turn your brother into a baby?” Rowena exclaimed by way of greeting.

“Dean, Rowena is here.”

Dean having startled awake cringed as Sam started to wail. “Yeah, Cas, I got that, thanks.”

“Was it a curse?” Rowena was kneeling down, trying to look into Sam’s face but he clutched at Dean’s flannel like a lifeline, hiding against his chest. “A spell?”

“A spell we think,” Castiel said over Sam’s sniffling sobs. Dean had hoisted him up over his shoulder and was rubbing his back rhythmically. Rowena frowned. “Sam was the first to enter the room-“

“Ah, I know exactly what this is.” Rowena smiled, triumphant. “You leave it to me, boys. Samuel will be grown again in no time.”

# 

“Rowena!” Dean yelled over the siren-like wail of the now giant baby sitting in the center of the library. 

“Don’t panic!” Rowena insisted, flipping through an old book while rummaging around in her bag.

“Panic?” Dean questioned. “There’s a ten-foot baby-“ His voice cut off as a hand clamped around his bicep and he was jerked off his feet to face plant into Sam’s clammy chest. The kid started to squeeze the life out of him and Castiel moved forward, trying to pry his arms off. “Rowena!”

#

“I can’t believe she turned me into a ten-foot baby,” Sam snorted from where he sat at the kitchen table, once again fully clothed and his normal age and size.

“You were quite agreeable up until then,” Castiel mused.

“Oh yeah, you get to practice your babysitting skills?” Sam asked and Castiel gave him a tart smile.

“No, you wouldn’t let anyone else touch you but Dean.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose, his gaze moving to his brother who stood at the stove, working on a grilled cheese. “Yeah, I’d forgotten what a clingy little shit you were back then.”

Sam scoffed. “Well, I still haven’t forgotten what an overbearing mother hen you were.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m never having kids. Dealing with my own childhood was enough.”

Dean glanced at Castiel who gazed back, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “It wasn’t so bad. Except for the diapers.”

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Teenagers Part 1

Harry Potter AU 

Summary: Request fic:  Regulus had never noticed you before. You are the opposite of him in almost every way. It also doesn't help that you are the sister of the one person that Regulus is most annoyed by. Now its time to learn if opposites really attract?

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M

Song in Chapter: Take it like a man by Cher

________

A new school year…

You were more than thrilled going back to school. This year was going to be bittersweet. It was James and Sirius’ last year at school. Knowing that your brother and best friend would be leaving soon was enough to make you dread going back but you decided to not think about it. You would think about it the next year when you had to make all new friends. The less you thought about your friends leaving, the better off than you were. In your years at school, you had grown incredibly close to Sirius, Remus, and Lily. You were close to James anyway so not seeing your brother every day was going to be horrible the following year.

I’ll be happy this year.

You muttered to yourself as Sirius and James came running up behind you.

“Y/N THERE YOU ARE!”

Sirius yelled your name before throwing his arms around you in a bone-crushing hug.

“Sirius, you saw me five minutes ago.”

You coughed as he dramatically patted your head. James, Remus, and Lily finally caught up and was chuckling at the scene. They were so used to Sirius trying to drive you crazy that it was nothing new.

“Pads, can you not crush our sister?”

James asked with a smirk. Lily nodded.

“Yeah, Sirius, she is turning blue. “

Sirius quickly put you back on your feet and petted your cheek. He was giggling hard at the annoyed expression on your face.

“Better now?”

You nodded, rolling your eyes.

“You are going to be the death of me one day. People are going to keep thinking that you are my boyfriend.”

You bent down to pick up the book that Sirius knocked out of your hand. Sirius muttered a quiet apology as he wrapped his arm around your neck.

“It's fine. I’m used to it.”

Sirius smiled again.

“What’s wrong with me as a boyfriend?”

You motioned to Remus.

“Well nothing except if I am dating you I am also dating Remus which makes this one weird love triangle where I feel like I am dating my brothers. We aren’t that creepy are we?”

Sirius and Remus were both dying laughing at that comment while James shook his head.

“No, we aren’t that creepy. I would, for the record, be okay with the three of you in some weird triangle. At least I know my sister would be taken care of.”

Sirius grinned and patted your head again.

“We take care of her plenty enough.”

“He’s right, James. I feel like I have three older brothers. That could be the reason guys are scared to date me.”

You said with a smile as Sirius’ attention went elsewhere.

“Why is my brother staring at us?”

Sirius asked. Your eyes went in the direction of where Sirius was looking. Regulus Black stood with his little band of Slytherin “tyrants” (as James called them). Sure enough, the younger Black brother’s eyes were locked on Sirius and yourself. Evan and Barty leaned forward and whispered something to Regulus.

“He may not be looking at us.”

Sirius frowned. There was no denying that Regulus’ eyes were locked not only on Sirius but you.

“He’s actually looking at Y/n.”

Remus commented. You frowned. Regulus didn’t even know who you were or at least he pretended not to. It didn’t matter that the two of you were in the same year...neither of you spoke to the other. You didn’t really count him telling you to “move” in third year as talking.

“Looks like he’s lost.”

James said. Sirius hadn’t said another word but carefully watched his brother’s face. There was something different about that expression and Sirius wasn’t for sure what it was. Regulus didn’t show many expressions so seeing his brother looking like he had been hit by a book at the sight of you was rather amusing.

“If he had a crush on Y/n I am going to strangle him.”

James growled. You burst out laughing.

“Calm down, James. He doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does.”

James muttered as Sirius finally gave up and waved at his younger brother. Regulus scowled at Sirius before turning and tugging Evan and Barty with him.

“I guess he doesn’t miss me.”

Sirius said, sounding a little sad. You sighed. Part of you was still furious with the Black family for how they did Sirius. They didn’t realize how wonderful of a boy that he was. You wrapped your arm through his.

“Come on, let's go find a place on the train. Forget them.”

Meanwhile…

Regulus sat down beside Evan. His mind was stuck on his brother and the girl that was with him. Regulus wasn’t oblivious to the fact that his brother had a bit of a “hoe phase” going on but you, whoever you were, seemed different. There was something about the girl that Sirius had his arm around that really didn’t scream “I am Sirius Black’s type.”

“Who was the girl with my brother?”

Regulus finally asked. Evan looked up with a scowl.

“You know her.”

Regulus crossed his arms over his chest feeling annoyance building. While Evan had been his best friend since childhood, there were times that Regulus wanted nothing more than to punch him.

“Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t be asking you if I had the foggiest idea who she was now would I?”

Barty grinned from his place on the opposite bench.

“She is Y/n Potter. James’ sister...you know that git who stole your brother.”

Regulus’ mouth dropped. The last time that he had really looked at you...you were different...childish. Now you were...Regulus didn’t even know what word to use but the strange feeling in his stomach told him that it was something good.

Evan finally spoke again.

“She’s had one hell of a glow up over the summer. I can’t believe that I am saying this but she is pretty. She used to remind me of a baby squirrel.”

“A squirrel?”

Regulus questioned. Evan nodded.

“She was always so nervous looking. Now...if she wanted to tie my ass to a chair and give me a lap dance. I really wouldn’t mind. She would have to lose the Gryffindor tie and put on one of mine though.”

Evan smirked when he noticed the expression on Regulus’ face. He had never seen Regulus be the least little bit interested in another girl. Now here he was looking like he wanted to fight for your honor.

“I suggest that the three of you just leave Y/n Potter alone. It won’t end well.”

Severus’ monotone voice said as the boy stepped into the compartment. Evan laughed.

“Just because you are scared to stand up to Potter and his goons don’t mean that we aren’t. Come on Sev, even you have to admit that Y/n is a lovely girl now. Have you seen her ass? A perfect handful.”

Severus rolled his eyes and sat down without further comment. Regulus turned back to Evan.

“Maybe you should ask her for a date if you are that desperate for her attention?”

“You saw her first.”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Just because I look at her doesn’t mean that I want her.”

The next morning Regulus woke up with a groan. He had tried to keep his mind off of you the whole previous evening but found his eyes glued to you. To his delight and displeasure, your eyes never flickered in his direction one time.

It also didn’t help that you were in his dreams that night. The whole night your sweet smile was locked on him. Even if you didn’t say a word you were looking at him. No one else but Regulus and he loved every bloody second of it!

Getting involved with her would be stupid….wreckless. Mother and father would be furious. She’s a blood traitor. Her whole family is...I don’t need that.

Regulus muttered as he got dressed. It didn’t matter how many times that he repeated that mantra to himself when he closed his eyes...it was your face that he saw.

Sinking into his place at the Slytherin table by Evan, Regulus silently started going through the motions of acting like he wanted to eat. There were plenty of things for him to think about...school, quidditch, tests...but you were the first thing. Was this what a crush was supposed to feel like because Regulus honestly had no clue.

Finally getting brave enough, he looked up at the Gryffindor table where you sat beside Dorcas Meadows laughing over something Marlene Mckinnon was saying.

Merlin, her smile is pretty…

Regulus thought before internally screaming at himself to stop.

“Hey, Reg, look, it's your woman.”

Evan commented with a smile. Regulus immediately elbowed Evan in the ribs.

“Shut up.”

Evan’s attention went back to the Gryffindor table when Sirius plopped down beside you.

“Something tells me that you need to get a move on if you want her before your brother runs off with her. By the rate he’s going, he’s going to try to marry her.”

Evan commented with a sneer. He had little patience with Sirius and now with the knowledge that Regulus had an interest in a girl for once...Evan wanted to make sure that Regulus got what he wanted for once.

Regulus rolled his eyes as you moved your hand over and landed on Sirius’ plate. He watched as you quickly pulled your arm up looking at the sticky syrup from the waffles that his brother was eating. Regulus couldn’t hear the conversation but it looked like you were giving Sirius the “what for” for having his plate so close to you. Sirius gave you a feeble shrug before taking your hand in his and licking your arm.

Gross…

Regulus thought as you picked up a book and smacked Sirius with it.

That works…

Regulus enjoyed watching you do what he had wanted to do to his brother for ages. When your eyes looked in his direction, Regulus froze. You offered him a small smile before turning back to the conversation with Marlene.

What the hell is going on with me?

Meanwhile,

You couldn’t help but smile at the expression on Regulus’ face. You had caught him looking at you several times but tried to not let him know that you were aware. It was nice seeing a cold glare on his face. Although you had never spoken a word to Regulus and really had no authority to judge him, he always seemed so cold and angry. You were honestly unsure if he knew how to smile. Now here he was staring at you with a stunned expression on his face.

“He’s a cute boy.”

Marlene commented. You looked up.

“Who?”

Marlene glanced over your shoulder to make sure that James, Sirius, and Remus were locked into a deep conversation about a prank before speaking again.

“Regulus.”

Dorcas and Lily both smile.

“He’s been watching you all morning.”

Dorcas added. You blushed and found yourself unable to look at the Slytherin table for a moment. Finally getting brave enough, you looked over again. Regulus had taken off his robes and sat in his black jumper talking to Evan. You rolled your eyes at the mere thought of Evan Rosier. The boy was a git!

Regulus, however, couldn’t have been more lovely. You smiled at just how much he and Sirius resemble each other in addition to their subtle differences. For one, you loved Regulus’ curls. He had apparently let it grow out over the summer and with the longer hair, Regulus reminded you a bit more of his brother. Another difference was Regulus’ eyes. His eyes were darker than Sirius and had more of a “James Dean daydream” look where Sirius was all “devil may care.”

“He must be bored.”

You replied, taking a sip of your drink. Dorcas glanced over her shoulder at the boy.

“Regulus always seems so sad and angry. Maybe you could cheer him up?”

“Like he would want anything to do with me. Besides have you all met my brother? James would fall off of his unicorn if I let Regulus within 8 inches of me.”

Lily smiled.

“He is a big boy. He’ll get over it.”

Marlene leaned closer and wrapped her arm through yours. You couldn’t help but look over at Regulus again. He sat tapping his fingers anxiously. Even his hands were nice-looking...you were in a lot of trouble!

“Here’s what you do...you simply tell him that if he wants your heart then he needs to take it like a man.”

Dorcas nodded.

“Oh, that’s a good one, Marlene. She’s right, Y/n. Before he fights for you, he needs to show you that he can.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“You two just ripped off a Cher song.”

“She has good advice and clearly Dorcas and I are on the same page.”

Marlene said with a smile. You quickly gathered your things to head off to class.

“Maybe he and I can go on a date to that new skating rink down in hell.”

You said with a laugh. Both Marlene and Dorcas gave you offended gasps.

“Hell doesn't have to freeze over for a Slytherin and a Gryffindor to be compatible.”

“It will for that one.”

You replied before bidding everyone a fair well and leaving the great hall.

Arriving in Potions, you were never more grateful to get to a class that you really had to focus on. The less that you had to sit and think about the morning's conversation with your friends the better off you would be.

“Good morning, Ms. Potter.”

Professor Slughorn said with a cheerful smile as you stepped into the room. He had been adoring you since the year before when you cracked one of his zany puzzles.

“Good morning, Professor. Did you have a nice summer?”

“Oh, yes my dear. I hope you did as well. I saw Lily and she said that the two of you spent a lot of time together.”

You nodded.

“Yes sir, she’s one of my best friends.”

Professor Slughorn nodded with an approving smile. You couldn’t have asked for a better best friend in his eyes.

“That’s wonderful, my dear. If you will just sit down there, please. I am pairing everyone up with a partner this semester. I’m sure yours will come along shortly.”

“Thank you, sir.”

You replied as you dug your new potions book out of your bag. It wasn’t until Slughorn said Regulus’ name did you look up before looking down.

Of course, he’s in this class. Why not? Merlin help me if he gets sat next to…

“Mr. Black if you will sit with Ms. Potter, please. I am pairing the two of you up this semester.”

FUCK

You screamed in your head, knowing that your face was blushing bright red. Regulus sat down beside you and was dead silent. You peaked at him through your hair. He sat with his hands in front of him on the table. Eventually, you would have to look up at him but right now you didn’t know how quickly that would be.

What if he actually didn’t like you and was just staring because he thought that you were dating Sirius or something? That would be some cruel joke for you. You would be getting all emotionally distraught and downright nervous for no reason.

Dorcas and Marlene’s ripping of Cher lyrics came right back to your head.

Boy, if you want my heart. You gotta take it like a man. Before you fight for us. You gotta show me that you can. So when the lights go dark...I wanna know you understand that if you want my heart you gotta take it like a man...

“You do know how to talk, right?”

Regulus’ voice pulled you from your thoughts. Ah, that’s what his voice sounded like...you loved it already. You couldn’t help but wonder just what the fuck was going on with you? Since when did you get all giddy for some boy that you didn’t know?

You took a deep breath before looking up at Regulus. He looked bored sitting beside you but it looked like his own cheeks were slightly pink.

“Yes, I know how to speak.”

You replied. Regulus anxiously tapped his fingers on the table in front of him.

“Good because it would be one hell of a boring semester if you were mute.”

You automatically frowned.

“I didn’t hear you saying anything.”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“You’re sassy. Lovely.”

You put your book down in front of you feeling the annoyance build but at the same time, Regulus calling you “sassy” was hilarious.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

You snapped back. A small smile played on his lips. Was he testing your patience or was he trying to get hit with a book the way Sirius did?

“You are friends with my brother aren’t you?”

You nodded.

“We aren’t dating.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

Regulus replied. Internally he was thanking whatever lucky stars that he had shining in his direction. He didn’t have to worry about his older stupid “better looking” brother for once.

“Sorry, that’s usually the first question that most people ask.”

You said, feeling your face flush. Regulus smiled.

“Tell people to mind their own damn business. It works wonders.”

Before you could respond, Professor Slughorn called the class to attention. Both Regulus and yourself turned to face him, ending the conversation that was taking place. You tried to listen to what Slughorn was talking about was busy congratulating yourself on not looking like a total fool.

Boy, will Dorcas and Marlene love this...

______

@amelie-black

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[dragonsareourfuture]

Light Yagami/GN! L’s Sibling!Reader — Protector

⚠️Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, manipulation, reader experiences grief, major character death, open ending.

requested by @darkrose33 ! sorry this took so long, I mostly finished writing it and then changed ideas halfway through, so I rewrote it all lol. I could not think of a way that the dynamic and story line that was requested could work in the context of a healthy relationship, so this isn't exactly a happy or romantic oneshot. I wanted to make this as realistic to Light's motivations and character as I could. I apologize if this isn’t what you wanted but you can always request something else if you would like :)

For as long as you can remember, your big brother was the person you looked up to the most. He was the brains, the one who had no trouble with the academics but every ounce of trouble with the social aspect of life. He wasn’t one to care what people thought about him socially, which in turn allowed him to behave however he wanted. He was an expert at leaving a room silent and stunned with just his words because of his lack of filter, telling only the brutal, honest truth when necessary. You couldn’t help but admire L Lawliet more than anything else in the world.

And because you held such admiration for the boy, you appointed yourself to be the role of his protector. Some kid called him a weirdo behind his back? Not to worry, with a little persuasion you can get them to apologize. He’s feeling overworked and you overhear one of the adults talking about a pile of paperwork they are about to drop off to L’s room? Huh, it seems that paperwork somehow ended up in the fireplace, nothing but a pile of ashes left of it. How strange. However you could protect him, you took on that challenge, even if it was simply being in the same room as him for emotional support. If you knew he needed to consume at least one vegetable that week, you were there to deliver, even if you had to hide it in a piece of cake. Whatever you could do, you did. Some told you that was what made you two so interesting – he was the brains, and you were the brawn, but you both needed each other to balance out. Like Yin and Yang.

So imagine your despair when, quite suddenly, L didn’t need you anymore. He was solving more cases, gaining in fame as the world’s greatest detective in his mere teenage years. He would, undoubtedly, need more protection than little ol’ you could provide once professional criminals found the desire to seek him out and kill him. And of course you wanted him to be safe, wanted him to thrive in the occupation that he excelled at, but…you missed your big brother with all of your heart. Not a day went by that you didn’t wish you could bring L his lunch or defend his honor out in the kickball field when some kid wouldn’t shut their big fat mouth. You missed those days.

You heard about the Kira case and how it was kicking everyone on the task force’s ass, including L’s. It only made you wish you could be there more. You kept up on the news, though. It was just about the only thing you could do. You tried to distract yourself with your own studies, but it was difficult to even try when you knew you could never in your wildest imagination come close to rising above your big brother.

You kept reminding yourself that you were grown now. You were fully capable of making a life for yourself that didn’t involve L – that didn’t include worrying about him every few moments. So you worked however pointless it may have seemed. You cooked, you did chores, even started taking up odd jobs to complete during the little free time you would have spent sleeping if you weren’t prone to dreams about the danger L could be in. Every moment in life was spent trying not to worry…only for you to realize that you had every right to worry all along.

The news itself was not particularly surprising. L and every single one of his runners up had to write out their will in advance – about a decade early. Death was to be expected in that line of work.

You had since moved out of Wammy’s house officially, but always stuck around to do the gardening, occasionally the cooking as well. Also the cleaning…you were basically the Wammy house maid, but you were grateful for the distractions.

When the news came, you were in the middle of planting a batch of bulbs you had bought at the store the previous day – white lilies. You had nearly passed them by in favor of a more colorful flower, but when your eyes caught the lack of pigment of the fully grown lily on the packaging, you couldn’t help but be reminded of your big brother’s pale as bone skin. You had chuckled at the memory, blinked away a few rising tears, and plucked the bulbs from the shelf. Now, with about half of the bulbs buried under the soil and half waiting to be planted, you listened to Roger’s words grow increasingly louder the closer he came to where you sat crouched in the dirt. You wished you hadn’t listened, though. For he only brought you sorrow.

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe Roger when he had come to tell you of your brother’s passing, it was simply that it was near impossible for you to imagine a world without the eccentric boy you’d grown up alongside. Sure, you’d been separated for some time now, but you’d grown used to knowing that even if he wasn’t with you, he was still somewhere fighting for the justice he believed in. To be told that he suddenly wasn’t in this world anymore…? You had to see it for yourself. So, despite Roger’s warnings, you ran inside and booked a flight to Japan as soon as you could. In your blind panic, you must have trampled the remaining bulbs you had yet to give life to.

…

The flight was stressful, the landing equally so. The drive to the task force building – torture. By the time you made it out of the car and through the doors of the task force building, you swore your throat was closing up. A glass of water was offered to you and, gratefully accepting the offer, you glugged the water down in a matter of seconds before someone else was offering you a seat.

You sat, pulling your legs up and curling them in. The chair was then pushed into place at a table and the man who offered it to you…placed a hand on your shoulder…?

You jolted, the empty cup in your hands almost toppling out of your grip.

“I’m sorry…! I should have asked first. My apologies…and my condolences.”

He appeared younger than everyone else around you. Young enough to be just about your age. His apologetic smile shone down on you like a beacon of light in the dark and dreary times you had seemingly been trapped in for so long. After that thought, you had stared in disbelief when he told you his name. Light. Fitting, you thought.

Light placed a hand onto the chair next to you, looking at you as if for permission. You nodded vaguely, hoping to convey your silent gratitude for him being so considerate. It wasn’t as if no one else had been this kind to you since hearing about the news, it was more so that you got the sense Light actually cared rather than simply spouting out the usual ‘I’m sorry’s you’re supposed to when someone experiences a loss. His words were not empty; they were full of life and intent. What that intent was, you didn’t know, but you wanted to keep feeling it over the usual hollow atmosphere you and your brother grew up in. So, before you knew it, you were spending hours at a time talking with Light Yagami, the very man who would be taking over the Kira case since your brother’s death.

It was indeed shocking to you how someone so young, even young in comparison to L, could lead an entire investigation. Granted, he had the rest of the task force by his side, but after only one day of observing their dynamic, you could feel the disconnection between them. Light was multiple steps ahead of them; there was no question about it. At times you got the sense he was keeping things from them. But, then again, you were almost certain L had done the same thing while he was leading them. It was difficult to blame someone so intelligent when they wanted to save time and not explain to everyone what their plan is, but lead them all like sheep. It would be faster that way, easier too.

With that final thought, the pedestal you were putting Light on became visible to you. But it couldn’t be a bad thing. It was normal for you to look up to your brother, yes? With Light, it was a different sensation altogether, but the same idea. You admired him, and you couldn’t see the harm in that when he was rubbing your back in comforting circles as you cried, talking to you and telling stories when you wanted to focus on something else. He was helping you, and because he wanted to, no less.

…

It was a strange sensation to wake up and have everyone you know suddenly become cautious around you, treating you like glass that would break if they said the wrong thing. After just a few minutes of this, you knew exactly what day it was. It somewhat startled you, your brother’s funeral being so soon. You wondered if the date had been pushed up, but no. You had simply been…distracted. In a good way, that is. When you first arrived in Japan, you thought that nothing but dread would accompany your visit. You had no clue how you would make it through the couple of days leading up to the funeral, how you would occupy your time. Sightseeing felt disrespectful. Besides, how could you appreciate fine architecture or lush greenery with such a weight in your heart, spreading throughout your body like a disease? What you hadn’t expected was to find someone who seemingly made everything more bearable. Someone who made the days pass faster.

This special someone helped you into your outfit – all black, casual yet put together. Light was gentle with you that day. Not skittish or cautious like the others were, but soft and loving. He would touch you, hands on your shoulders and a brush of his fingers through your hair every now and then, but it would be feather light and comforting all the same. He knew exactly how to make you feel noticed and cared for, but not in the least bit overwhelmed with affection – a perfect medium.

Driving to the graveyard was not as stressful as your initial drive from the airport. You originally suspected this was the case because you had time to accept the reality of it all; you were able to let the information ferment and sink in. But, as you got steadily closer to your destination and all the grief you had avoided for the last few days began to bubble to the surface of your mind, you realized this was not the case. What you had time to do was ignore the truth, become distracted as you always did. It had always been your way of dealing with your own problems. It was L’s problems you could face head on. But anything personal to you? No sir. You desperately wished you’d taken the time to develop a better coping mechanism as the car pulled into the small patch of asphalt among a sea of grass and graves.

You hadn’t even realized how fast you were breathing until Light clasped your hand, his free hand reaching to turn your head to face him directly. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?” You nodded. “Good. Now, I want you to take slower, deeper breaths, alright?” you nodded again and followed his instructions – in then out at a slow pace, inhaling as deeply as you could before blowing the air from your mouth. You squeezed Light’s hand and sent him a weary smile when you had gathered your wits.

The fresh air did you good as you stepped out of the car, shoes crunching in the loose grains of asphalt and soon gliding through blades of grass. You started to calm down, internally congratulating yourself for not freaking out with each step. This was the continued routine until the gravestone came into view. The task force was heading toward it, so no doubt it was L’S. It was marked by a fairly large, golden cross that reflected the setting sun like a mirror. You ducked your head, pretending that it was indeed the sun in your eyes that caused you to stop and cover your face. You waved for Light to go on ahead and assured him you would meet him there in a bit. You were absolutely sure no one bought your excuse, but they still respected your wishes and left you behind to gather around your brother’s grave while you turned your back to it.

You walked back to the car almost on autopilot. You could barely see, so you trained your eyes on the ground as tears freely flowed down your cheeks, not a sound leaving your lips until you were safely beside the vehicle you arrived in. You stomped your foot in the asphalt, kicked the loose pebbles around, feeling just like the child you used to be. Throwing a tantrum was not on your funeral to-do list, but there you were. You just didn’t know if you could bear it, seeing your brother for the last time as nothing but a slab of stone. You could sit by it, protect it all you wanted but it would never need you. Not like he used to. You could plant those lilies you had abandoned by it. That wasn’t actually a terrible idea.

You didn’t know how long you were standing there, pacing in the middle of the parking lot. Mustn’t have been too long, as the sun hadn’t even passed over the horizon, but it felt like an eternity.

Until…what was that? Something caught your attention, causing your head to snap up in search for the source. The others were nowhere in sight, all that stirred were a couple of birds from a nearby tree. That could have been another family visiting a grave, which would make sense given that the noise sounded similar to hysterical crying. Or…was that laughter?

You began to grow worried, deciding on a whim to check up on the others. You wouldn’t approach the grave unless you had to, you decided. Yeah, good plan, you managed to convince yourself as you took steps toward the grave. With every few feet, the noises grew louder, and you were soon able to recognize words. You sped up your pace until you made it over the hill that separated the parking lot from the field only to find…

What was Light doing on the ground? No, a better question would be: what was Light – the person who was working his ass off to catch Kira – doing kneeling on your brother’s grave, shouting that he would get rid of the police? That this is his perfect victory? That he wins?

You felt…what? What could sum up that feeling that filled your chest when that sight was exposed to you? You felt confused, you felt unsure. Then, with the realization of what was going on, you felt betrayal. Then, in a sudden wave intense enough to make you feel as though you would fall over, you felt furious. You felt a sudden need to protect your older brother just like you had done for years with playground bullies and critics, but this time with someone you thought you could trust. Someone you loved who had apparently taken advantage of your care for him – someone who had lied to your face about who they truly were.

Before you knew it you were sprinting across the field. You had no clue what you were going to do until you got to the grave and quite literally kicked him off the soil your own flesh and blood was buried under. The move was so swift you wondered if it had actually happened or if this was all some sick nightmare. God, you hoped it was. Although you almost didn’t want to pray to god now, as there was a self-proclaimed god sitting with the wind knocked out of him at your feet.

“You…you GODDAMN FUCKING TRAITOR—” you couldn’t tell if Light was actually looking at you with eyes glinting with fear or if the sunset lighting was playing tricks on you. “THAT’S MY FUCKING BROTHER—YOU CAN’T—I SHOULD NEVER HAVE—” It was impossible to finish a sentence or even a thought in your own brain. There were so many things you wanted to say and kill him for but right now everything was jumbled together.

The way Light was staring at you didn’t exactly help. Eyes that now looked red in the setting sun bore into your own pupils from the ground. He looked dead serious, almost angry that you had the guts to knock him to the ground in your fit of rage. But although your words were coming out in screaming stutters your movements seemed swift and sure, as the moment Light moved to stand up your foot flew to action once more and planted right onto his chest. His back met the ground for a second time. He wasn’t even trying to contain his fury, clawing at your ankle and baring his teeth like a dog trying his best to be intimidating, but still eager to know what you were planning to do next. After all, he could have easily shoved you off. But he was curious.

You spoke calmly now, mind set on what you wanted to ask. “You never cared about me, did you?” Light’s mouth opened to answer but you went on without letting him speak. “No, you cared about me, but only because my brother was L, and I could give you information now that he’s gone. Am I right?” again, his mouth opened, but when your heel unexpectedly dug into his chest he let out a pained and irritated groan instead of coherent words. It was like you were teasing him, not to get a laugh out of his pain but…for what? You barely even knew yourself. It wouldn’t do anything. It wouldn’t make you less humiliated for being tricked and it certainly wouldn’t bring your brother back. Either way, Light definitely didn’t like it.

Before you had the chance to react you were thrown onto your back. Light had pushed you back by your leg and rose to his feet, now above you in every sense of the word. He – Kira – had carried out his plan. Meanwhile, you had nothing left.

“You don’t have to go against me,” Light seethed, “All you have to do is let the new world take its shape, and everything will fall into place.”

“That’s a shitty sales pitch.”

“It’s an offer. You’ve done nothing wrong, committed no crimes. You’d do well in my world.” The look on your face made it apparent that you had no interest in his words. Light furrowed his brows, then the ghost of a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “I know you –”

“You don’t know anything about me. And I clearly didn’t know you.” You pushed yourself up onto your elbows.

“—you wouldn’t want your brother’s death to be in vain.”

“I—” you paused. “What?”

“L was an obstacle I had to pass to get to a world where less people would have to suffer the same loss you have. I expect you don’t want to just throw away his death and turn me in. you can make something out of his sacrifice—“

“He wasn’t TRYING to be sacrificed; he was TRYING to put a vigilante maniac to death.”

“But if his death could mean a better world for others, you would just throw that away for your own revenge?”

You blinked, once, twice, then rapidly, shaking your head as if trying to prevent dust from getting into your eyes, or Light’s siren song from getting into your head. “Stop. That’s not…Just stop.”

“You know I’m right.” He stepped towards you and for a second you thought he was about to repay you for crushing his lungs moments ago. All that followed was his hand shooting out, stopping in front of your face. You looked up at him in disbelief. “I’ll love and care for you as I did before. I can be the one you care for in his place. All I ask is that you help me create a better world, or at least don’t try and stop me.”

You nearly scoff, but some of his words actually catch your attention. He’d love and care for you…but it would all be fake. Still, what kind of person would you be to reject others a grief-less world just to avenge your brother? But who ever said Light would follow through, not become corrupt along the way if he wasn’t already? There were so many possibilities and so many possible outcomes, all influenced by this one decision that you had to make right now.

You choked on your words.

Familiar voices were approaching.

Time was ticking.

“I…”

[teamhook]

Finding Hope :: A CS August Rush AU birthday fic

Hellol! Okay, before I go on. I swear this will be the last WIP I start. I had to. This story is for my favorite dork @hookedonapirate cause I love her to death. She had asked me to write it before but at the time I was writing the Forever My Girl CS AU.

Happy Birthday!! Hope you like your present.

Thanks to my beta @ultraluckycatnd she is the best!!

FFN

AO3

A love for music unites an unlikely pair. The rhapsody they unknowingly created will give life to the hope they still have in their hearts.

Killian Jones and his older brother Liam had arrived from London with nothing more than the clothes on their back to pursue a music career. The lives of the Jones brothers had been difficult since the beginning. Their mother died at a young age and their father had decided he was not made to be a family man.

The Jones brothers had formed The Outlaws with some fellow expatriates they met along the way. The venues they played weren't the best, but they managed to make a name for themselves enough to have steady gigs.

Emma Nolan had grown up with loving parents but after an unfortunate accident, she was left alone. Afterwards, her grandfather took her in. George Spencer was an ill-tempered man. He wasn't a doting person, which caused Emma to become closed off. She focused on solace in the cello. Thankfully, the man valued pomp and grandeur so, at the thought of his granddaughter attending Juilliard, he eagerly made it possible.

On a rare night out with her best friend Elsa, they decide to go to listen to a little-known rock band called The Outlaws they saw fliers for. It was love at first sight. The lead singer mesmerized the young cellist with his voice. The girls waited for the band to finish their set to introduce themselves to them. Elsa and Emma fit in with the band perfectly. The Jones brothers had quickly gravitated towards the blonde beauties.

Emma and Killian had slowly drifted away from the group. It ended up being the most magical night for the young lovers above New York's Washington Square.

Months later, Emma finds out she is pregnant. Somehow, she already loves her kid so much. Her grandfather makes his displeasure known, however, every moment of her pregnancy.

The day her life changed was gloomy and rainy. After an argument with George, Emma had gone to the store to buy some last-minute things for her baby. The drunk driver came out of nowhere. When she gives birth prematurely, her grandfather takes advantage while she is unconscious and gives the baby girl up for adoption. The moment Emma wakes up, she is told the news that her baby is dead. The news shatters her musical dreams and any hope of happiness.

You're not special. You're just like the rest of us... alone, nothing but an orphan.

The music... Can you hear it? Listen... I can hear it everywhere.

It's in the wind ...

in the light...

It's all around us.

All you have to do is open your heart and listen.

Sometimes the world tries to knock the hope out of you.

They tried to stop me from hearing the music...

I believe in music the way others believe in fairy tales. When I'm alone it builds inside me eager to erupt into a melody. I like to believe that what I hear came from my parents. That the music I hear is the same one they heard the night they met...

Maybe that's how they found each other and that's how they'll know I am theirs and find me...

Hope Swan had grown up in foster care. As a baby, she had been adopted but returned once the couple was blessed with their own flesh and blood. After that, she bounced from foster home to foster home.

In her shared room at the group home, she's currently at, Hope records herself humming a song that keeps playing in her mind, but is rudely interrupted by her roommate who mocks her. "You are not special. You're just like us, an unwanted orphan."

The girl walks away, slamming the door.

Hope's eyes water at the mean girl's words. She knows it in her heart that she is wanted and someday she will find her parents. She continues recording her humming of the song in her heart.

Hope is now eleven years old. She stands in the back of the group as one of the younger girls is adopted by a couple. Maybe she should be bitter and want to be adopted but if she was, she would never find her parents. They're out there and she will find them.

Hope runs away once more from her group home. Living on the streets she makes friends easily, but is still guarded. She knows that someday her parents will come looking for her. All she wants is to go home.

As she wanders the streets, runaway Hope Swan is getting closer to find her home. She knows she will find her family. All she has to do is listen to the music in her heart and follow it.

A kind man, Merlin, is assigned Hope Swan's case. She wasn't a trouble maker, but she was reportedly closed off with the couples. He is notified that she has run away. She has a history of running away. The picture of the young girl saddens him. He wishes he can find her and place her in a good home. She is a pretty girl, with blonde hair, vibrant sea-blue eyes, dimples, and a slightly dimpled chin. He posts her picture on the board.

Emma Nolan had moved away after losing her daughter. Her little girl, her grandfather told her the baby was a tiny girl. The heartbreak led her to become a music teacher to kids. She was always surrounded by children and music. That was the way she chose to honor her child. An unexpected call from her grandfather's doctor makes her break a promise she had made to herself years ago. He is the only family she has left.

Once she arrives at his house, she is summoned to his death bed.

His eyes tear up. "I thought you wouldn't come."

"I don't hate you Grandpa, but my heart hasn't healed. Time will never heal this wound," she sniffled.

He closes his watery eyes. "I think I can help with that."

Emma gets closer to his bed, confused. "How can you say that? My child is gone! You didn't want her, so you threw her away while I slept. You took that away from me. I couldn't hold her!"

"Emma, enough!" he screams, then immediately starts coughing from the effort.

"I'm sorry, I made a mistake. I know now that family is precious, that image doesn't matter. Emma, I have a confession. I hope it's not too late and that you will find it in your heart to forgive me."

Emma stares at him.

"She's alive. Your little girl is alive."

"What? How can you be so cruel and say that to me!" Emma says with disbelief and tears pooled in her eyes.

"Because it's the truth. She is alive. I gave her up for adoption, and I was the one who signed the papers. I was your next of kin since you weren't married."

Emma gapes at the old man as she let her limp body drop to the chair next to his bed. "You gave my daughter away as if she was property because I embarrassed you?"

George Spencer can't keep his eyes on his granddaughter. The once-proud man weakened by age and disease casts his eyes down in shame. "In my safe, you will find the documents."

"What good will that do me?" Emma asks.

"Emma, my attorney can help you find her," he says quietly.

"But-"

"Emma, if your parents were here, they would tell you that you should never lose hope," he says.

Emma stands up. "You're right, I'm going to find my daughter."

George sighs as he falls into a deep sleep, his machines flatlining. The nurse that had given them privacy to talk rushes in as soon as the machine goes off.

Emma finds the papers and with trembling hands, calls Mr. Gold, the attorney.

The man is a ruthless slimy bastard. He tries to convince Emma that her kid is better off where she is. Of course, he would say that seeing he had helped her grandfather do this to her; he was just covering his ass. She doesn't care about that. All she wants is to get her kid. She has a daughter and she is out there. She hopes to God that she is being taken care of.

Killian Jones had moved to California not long after The Outlaws broke up. He had given up his dream of singing, but somehow had managed to gain a thriving career as an agent.

He had also distanced himself from the memory of Emma. After the band broke up, his brother and former bandmates had moved to Boston. Killian thought the further away he could get would be better, though. He tried forgetting her, but he knew he could never forget her. It was only one night, but he would belong to her for the rest of time.

Liam had called him a few days prior to ask if he wanted to join them in a reunion of sorts. They were going to play at the little place where he had met Emma. The joint was going out of business so in an effort to raise money to save it, The Outlaws had agreed to come out of retirement for one night only.

Killian had yet to agree, but 'what if' rattled in his brain. Something inside him tugged at his heart. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants gets what he deserves, Liam had told him over and over. He decides he will do it. He will fly to New York and look for Emma. He prays to every deity he can that she is not married. It's a selfish thought, but he couldn't bear it if she isn't meant for him.

Killian picks up the phone and dials his brother's number. "Liam, I'll be there."

"Brother, you'll do it? What happened to never setting foot in New York?" Liam asks.

"Liam, are you going to question my decision? I thought you would be happy," Killian says through gritted teeth.

"I am, I am. I'm just surprised. Killian, this doesn't have anything to do with her, does it?"

"Brother," Killian sighs, "Even if it was, I don't have a way to contact her." Sure he was lying, but his brother didn't have to know all his reasons.

"We are driving out there," Liam says.

"I'll fly. I will text you the details once I've made arrangements," Killian says.

"Alright, see you then," Liam adds. "Brother, it's going to be good seeing you after so long. I miss you."

Killian sighs. "I miss you too."

The line disconnects. Alright Emma Nolan, what have you been up to? he thinks as he enters her name in the browser's search engine. He had thought of looking for her before, but he had never found any sign of her online. He knows her family has money but somehow she has managed to stay hidden. The only information that would come up was of her grandfather's business deals. His heart tells him that this time, though, things would be different.

Sure enough, he finds one headline: "George Spencer dies at home after a long battle with heart disease."

Killian reads the headline carefully and his heart sparks with hope to see Emma again. The newspaper lists her as the sole survivor of her grandfather's Estate. That means she would have to be at his home. He winces at the thought. He knows that his method to approach her while grieving will be considered to be in bad form, but if it is the only chance he has, he has to make the best of the situation. He takes a deep breath and alters his flight plans so he can arrive a couple of days earlier.

Mr. Gold had changed his tune when Emma didn't fall for his manipulations and offered his services. Emma reluctantly accepted his help. He told her to give him a couple of hours and at that time, he would have information to make her search easier. He quickly found out that her daughter had ended up in foster care. He gave her the name of the caseworker assigned to Hope Swan. That was her baby's name. Emma tries to ignore the fact that her daughter is in the care of the state. She wonders what she looks like? Does she take after her or him? Killian Jones, he had never left her thoughts, but before it was painful to think of him because inevitably her thoughts would end on her daughter. Emma smiles, realizing how fitting the name Hope was for their daughter. Emma thanks Mr. Gold and goes to see Merlin Wilde.

Emma arrives at the CPS office. Her nerves are getting the best of her. She approaches the information desk. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Mr. Wilde?"

The woman looks bored. "Do you have an appointment?"

Emma shakes her head. "No, I'm sorry. I must speak to him, though."

The woman rolls her eyes. "Fill out the sign-in sheet. I will see if he can fit you in today." She gets up and heads to a door behind her desk.

Emma is about to sit down when something catches her eye. Pictures of missing kids. Runaways. She gravitates to the board. Her heart is beating so fast as her eyes land on a name, Hope Swan. Emma smiles as she stares at blue eyes that reminded her of the pair that stole her heart all those years back. The sound of someone clearing their throat startles her.

"I'm sorry for startling you, Miss Nolan. I'm Merlin Wilde." He smiles at her as he looks over her sign-in sheet and signals for her to follow him.

"Oh, no it's okay. Yes, I wanted to speak to you in private. My situation is not a common story," Emma says as she follows him to his office.

They enter his office and he kindly motions for her to take a seat.

Emma looks around the office. She tries to get a feel for the man. He seems kind, but looks can be deceiving.

"Miss Nolan, how may I help you? Is there a child in a situation you are concerned about?"

Emma nods. "Mr. Wilde, yes, in fact, that is the reason why I'm here."

"Alright," he starts taking notes. "May I have the child's name?"

"Hope Swan," Emma says. "I'm her mother."

Merlin looks up from his computer. "I'm sorry," he says as he types rapidly on his computer keyboard, before looking up quizzically. "Her case says she is in the care of Mrs. Emerald."

"I'm afraid you misunderstood me. I'm Hope's biological mother." She takes a deep breath. "I was young and unmarried when I got pregnant with her, and my grandfather didn't think having a child was appropriate." Her eyes begin to sting because of the tears. "He took it upon himself to decide that giving my daughter away while I was unconscious because of an accident was the appropriate decision to make. Until recently, I thought Hope was dead. I'm here because I need your help getting my daughter back. I understand she is in foster care, so it shouldn't be a big deal, right?"

Merlin keeps his eyes on her and laughs. "She is a good kid, the people that had fostered her before never had a complaint about her. She loves music and she always hummed a melody to herself. She was just not open to letting them in. It's like she knew she didn't belong there. I'm afraid that has caused her to run away on several occasions. I was just informed she ran away from the last home."

Emma's eyes tear up. "I loved my daughter from the moment I knew she was there. I used to play a song on the cello for her that her father sang the night we met. Until the day I thought I had lost her, I played the same song. I need to find her."

"And we will, Miss Nolan. I have put up fliers all over the city."

Emma nods. "I will look for her myself. I plan on hiring a private investigator. Could I have a picture of her?"

"Of course, Miss Nolan. I will do all in my power to help get your daughter back. I'm going to go looking for her at Washington Square Park. That is a hot spot for runaways. If you would like to join me? We might get lucky," he says as he hands her the picture of Hope from her file.

Emma smiles. "Sure, I will. Thank you for asking."

Hope is sitting on a bench at Washington Square Park and then she hears some music playing. Instantly, she is drawn to it. A boy around her age is playing the guitar. She smiles wide and sits down to enjoy the show. People surround the boy as he plays and they drop change on a baseball cap on the floor. Once he finishes playing, the boy picks up his cap and puts the money in his pocket. He grabs his guitar and thanks the crowd before leaving.

Curious, Hope follows him to an abandoned theatre.

Killian arrives on the first flight of the day. He rents a car and makes his way to the Nolan Estate. He is a nervous wreck. What will Emma think of him showing up unannounced? He hopes she will be happy to see him.

The boy Hope was following introduces himself as Henry. She likes him. He is nice and he promptly explains that all the runaway children live there. They had been taken in by Walsh Oz, the "Wizard". The man provides a roof over their head and food.

"Don't worry, Hope. He will teach you how to perform in street corners to pay for your part. If you're lucky and any good, he will let you use one of the park's spots," Henry says. "When he gets home with food, I will introduce you."

Hope thinks to herself it couldn't be that bad. This way, she won't be picked on for playing music.

Henry smiles fondly at Hope. "So why did you run away?"

Hope smiles back. "I'm going to find my parents. How about you?"

"My adoptive mom didn't love me." He shrugs. "Hope, I know you will find them."

Hope beams. "Thank you, but how can you believe so?"

Henry smiles. "I have a feeling that you will find them and then you will have your happy ending."

The Wizard hadn't always lived in condemned buildings. He once had been a success in his art but lost it due to some scandal years ago, but he could still spot talent. The young girl Henry had brought to him had loads of talent. She had played a song that most of the other kids couldn't play. The girl was magical. She appeared to be a musical genius with savant-like abilities and perfect pitch. He knows he could make a good living off of that girl. He smiles wickedly as the girl plays with his prized guitar, Roxanne. "Well, looks like we found our top earner thanks to Henry," The Wizard says to the group. He pulls Hope to the side. "Alright, you are going to be in my old spot at the park and you will be using Roxanne." He scrutinizes her. "Now what should we call you?"

"My name is Hope," she says.

He walks back and forth contemplating and shaking his head. "I know, I shall call you Odette."

Emma and Merlin arrive at the park. They split up in the hope to cover more ground.

Merlin posts missing posters of Hope on every corner he can; he even hands some to the people walking by.

Emma is walking around the corner when something catches her eye. They have some posters for an upcoming event displaying some talent from Julliard. She smiles wistfully, she misses her music. She takes out her phone to call an old friend. Elsa had ended up at their old school as a teacher.

Somehow her connection is stronger now. She has a sudden need to play. She feels it will help her connect with her daughter.

Tag list:

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[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Paul Sheldon

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and Paul met through his agent. You worked as a freelance illustrator so when Marcia contacted you with the offer of a lifetime; illustrating the front cover of one of the bestselling novel series in the country, you were obviously more than happy to accept.

- So, the two of you have some meetings about what he wants for the cover, he immediately finds himself attracted to you and you to him, and the two of you dance around your feelings at every little book party that you’re both invited to.

- He spends quite a bit of time trying to flatter you, complimenting your work, telling you that you look lovely, etc. He brushes off all of your compliments but boy does he love them.

- He asks you out after the next book in the Misery series gets published. You’d received a call in the afternoon, inviting you out to dinner with him; to “celebrate”, and telling you that he couldn’t have done it without you. Considering the fact that you’d been in love with the man for a good few months, you happily agreed.

- For your first date, the two of you have dinner at an upscale restaurant. You talk and get to know each other better, both of you realizing that you’re even more compatible than you initially thought. You’re eager to agree to see him again as you’re saying goodbye, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before getting into your taxi.

- A few more dates and the two of you are official, sharing your first kiss on your third date. You’d invited him in for some coffee after the two of you went out to eat and as you were sitting together, you’d both slowly leaned in and shared a long kiss; and possibly more.

- And so, the author finds his perfect partner in crime.

- Paul is a bit of a public figure; and a supposedly sophisticated one at that, so he tries his best to look classy and proper in public. This means that he’s reserved in his Pda, usually trying to show that you’re together while staying “proper.”

- His arm around your waist or his hand on the smll of your back. He likes keeping you close to his side; especially if you’re at an even together.

- His hand resting on top of yours or innocently on your thigh/knee; usually innocently at least.

- Temple kisses.

- Wrist and hand kisses.

- Long, slow kisses. He’s a romantic at heart so they’re right up his alley.

- Soft, gentle kisses.

- Sitting on his lap.

- Cuddling in the crook of his arm. He likes feeling your arms wrapped around his middle and the weight of you head on his shoulder/chest; it keeps him grounded.

- He’s sort of old fashioned so he usually calls you things like darling and dear.

- Getting an insider look at his life. He’s got quite a few interesting stories to tell.

- He’s used to the finer things in life; and he’s sort of old fashioned, so that means that he’s grown to behave like a gentleman when it comes to his women. He’ll help you put on your coat, open doors, pull out chairs, etc. It’s really quite sweet.

- He insists that he’s fine whenever he’s sick but he still acts like he’s dying pretty much every time he gets a cold.

- He knows all your quirky little interests and likes to humor you with them, getting you gifts or taking you places that revolve around them. He likes the way your face lights up whenever he does.

- Going out to buy him paper. You’re always given a kiss and called something along the line of “an Angel”.

- Bringing him food while he’s writing and making sure he gets some sleep; rather than constantly staying up until the early hours of the morning.

- Happily greeting him back when he comes home from his trips.

- Getting to read the early stages of his books. He likes knowing your opinion, it’s one of the few that he legitimately takes seriously regardless of how literarily gifted you are.

- Celebrating with champagne after he finishes a story.

- Every time he gets a story published, he’ll get you a little something and say that he couldn’t have done it without you, whether it be a bracelet, ring, necklace or something entirely different.

- Going to all his book events with him. You’re sort of like a trophy wife for him, even if you don’t think you’re good enough to be one, he sure thinks you are.

- Helping him deal with the trauma he undoubtedly develops after his time with Annie. There’s going to be quite a few nightmares and thinly veiled panic attacks.

- Something tells me that Paul was never an incredibly outgoing person but after the whole Wilkes ordeal, he especially prefers to stay inside with you rather than go out.

- Trips to cabins and other places; he probably prefers somewhere sunny after he returns home from his latest trip.

- Lazy morning spent inside.

- Window shopping together. Occasionally, the two of you will go get coffees and just walk around town, seeing what’s new and enjoying each other’s company.

- Singing along to the radio with him. Speaking of: he’ll probably want you to drive after he gets into his ...accident.

- Visiting the city. The two of you go sightseeing, visit zoos, go to baseball games, etc. It’s a nice break from your usual atmosphere.

- Going out to dinner with him.

- Nights spent by the fire.

- Snowball fights.

- Sarcasm. It helps if you can dish it right back so go on ahead if you can.

- Having his daughter over for the holidays.

- Your mother is probably quite the fan of him considering she’s probably the target audience of his whole Misery series.

- Flattery. He’s very skilled in the art of ass kissing.

- Your praise fuels him. He’ll always try to squeeze more out of you yet act all humble at the same time.

- He’s sentimental so he has a bunch of photos and keepsakes from different points in your relationship.

- He can usually notice when somethings off and is fairly good at consoling you. It always seems like he knows exactly what to say to make you feel better.

- Paul’s not a jealous person. He’s on the older side of the age spectrum by now; he’s more mature, and he’s secure enough in himself and your relationship to know you’d never do anything to hurt him. He might; occasionally, not like someone because he thinks they have a bit of a thing for you, but he lets you handle it and trusts your judgment.

- He’s not incredibly protective but he’ll defend you and your honor if it really comes down to it. Plus, depending on your age, his fatherly instincts may occasionally take over and he’ll find himself scolding you.

- He’s pretty good at keeping himself under control so the two of you don’t fight very often. If anything, you bicker every now and again before you settle things or just forget about it.

- He doesn’t mind apologizing when he’s in the wrong, if it’s his fault then it’s his fault, right? If you’re in the wrong than he’d expect you to apologize as well.

- Paul’s somewhat reserved when it comes to telling you that he loves you. He likes for the words to mean something; and he’s just not the type of person to say those three little words in general. That being said: he’s sort of a hypocrite because he loves hearing you say you love him.

- Well, there’s certainly a few bumps coming up in the road, but overall, you’re going to have a nice life with him.

[pedros-mustache-main]

crayons & caresses

summary: you know it’s wrong, that pining after your student’s father is wildly inappropriate, but gosh if john deacon isn’t the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

word count: 12k+

warnings: pining to the extreme!, slight angst, discussions of parental death, health scare + medical response, alcohol, language, innuendo, suggestive moments (not 18+ but be mindful)

a/n: mechanic/singledad!john is everything i didn’t know i needed in my life. also: WOW this took me a long ass time because i find john the hardest to write, but i love him so. much. so hopefully it’s worth the wait.

(photo: originally from @davidgayhan​ i think?? ugh look at him. i drool. yes i did set this during the brief short-perm-montreal moment. sue me)

september, 1981.

you love all of your students equally. each one is like a fingerprint on your heart: unique in their own way, made up of patterns and histories you will never be able to appreciate in full before they are whisked away to their next year. it is safe to say you adore the collection of twenty-four seven year olds who walk into your classroom each morning. their bright faces, some still chubby with baby fat, fill the lonely parts of your soul, and you leave your flat each morning with a sense of purpose and duty. you are their teacher, their guide through some of the most crucial parts of learning. it is an honor and a privilege to teach them—each and every one. but there is one student who sticks out among the rest. 

his name is beau deacon.

beau is remarkably quiet. he’s small for his age, both in height and in weight. at times, he appears frail, what with the way he sits by himself in the corner during reading hour, flipping through a picture book with glazed over eyes, never really concentrating on what’s before him. he walks slowly during recess, preferring to stay by himself and drag a stick along the blacktop than play a game of kickball with the other boys. he whispers when he speaks and avoids meeting the eyes of those who do try and pry a few words from him.

you try to engage him—really, you do—but nothing seems to stick. not the participation reward system you build just for him, but use for the entire class. not moving his desk closer to yours. not even coercing your best friend ami to bring in her therapy dogs one afternoon early in the year. despite your best efforts, beau remains decidedly uninterested and removed.

it bothers and worries you to the point of questioning your colleague on the matter. martha is sixty, but spry as ever. she’s been your confidant this last year. you’re new to teaching, green as ever, but she has welcomed you with open arms and a plethora of advice. you feel comfortable sidling up next to her in the car-line one friday afternoon. it’s hot outside, summer not yet allowing autumn to take root, so you hold a hand over your eyes to shade yourself from the sun.

“can i ask you something?” you say, keeping your eyes trained on the children who filter out of the school and into their parent’s waiting vehicles. 

“as long as it’s not about sex,” martha mutters. “haven’t had a good romp in so long i don’t even know if it still works the same way.”

you swallow a laugh as a trio of students pass you by. their mother waves over her shoulder, shouting her thanks, before shoving the children in the backseat of a tan mini-van. you watch the van pull away, another car rolling forward to take its place, before asking your question.

“beau deacon,” you start, hoping that, if you simply say his name, martha will fill in the gaps herself.

blessedly, martha twists and nods with a knowing smile. “i know that tyke well. had him last year.”

you release a huff of air in relief. “oh thank goodness. i’m almost beside myself. i don’t know what to do with him.” you frown as you attempt to speak as diplomatically about your student as possible. “he’s awful quiet. he doesn’t play with any of the children and barely looks at me when i speak to him. how’d you manage?”

to your dismay, the older woman just shrugs. “i didn’t really. his mum died all sudden like about halfway through the year, and he clammed up. no matter what i did, what tricks i tried to pull, he stayed completely unmovable.”

“oh.” your shoulders drop in defeat. “i didn’t know.” truthfully, your heart tugs for the child. to lose one’s mother at such a tender age? you can’t imagine the world of hurt he lives in. it’s no wonder he sticks to himself.

“you didn’t speak with his father?”

“no. was i have supposed to?”

“no, not necessarily. mr. deacon was helpful on a few occasions last year. we were sort of a united front, i’d say, when things were particularly bad in the beginning. perhaps give him a call. at least to let him know you’re in his corner.” she smiles and squeezes your bicep. “and you can always come to me, love. i may not have all the answers but i do have some.”

“thank you, martha. i think giving mr. deacon a call might be smart—” you turn at the tell-tale sound of feet dragging against the ground. in the few weeks since classes have started, you’ve grown to know the sound of beau deacon’s footsteps better than your own. he’s always on your mind, the sullen little boy with glasses, so it’s hard not to pounce on him with love when you turn around to see him in the school doorway. “oh! beau! we were just talking about you.” 

beau stops walking, and his grip tightens on the straps of his backpack. he doesn’t look up at you, doesn’t say anything. he simply stands there, as if he’s listening but doesn’t know how to respond, so you soldier forward.

“do you have any big plans for the weekend, beau?” you ask.

he shakes his head.

“none with your father?”

another shake of the head.

“well, perhaps you’ll do something fun and you can tell us about it on monday, yeah?”

to your surprise, he nods, which is more than he does most days. you can’t help the smile that claims your lips and the way your arm waves a little too hard to his retreating form. he walks to a faded old corvette and opens the passenger door with ease. you can hear a muffled voice—his father’s no doubt—and see the man stretch his arm out to take beau’s backpack. 

but then the car door is shut, and the chevy pulls out of the parking lot with too much speed to be safe when a child is in the front.

you glance at martha. she rolls her eyes and mouths men. you can’t help but agree.

a week passes before you finally find the time to phone beau’s father. you find his name—john richard deacon—and a telephone number in beau’s emergency contact form, shoved amongst a stack of other hastily filled-out parent paperwork. there’s no secondary number listed—not even a distant relative or family friend—so if the call doesn’t work, you aren’t sure what your next move will be. even so, after all the children have left and the other teachers are beginning to close their classrooms for the day, you slouch at your desk and punch the numbers into the phone. it rings three times before someone picks up.

“taylor auto-repair. this is rog.”

the voice on the other end is high and scratchy. you’re taken aback, both by the man on the phone and the blaring rock n roll music in the background. you aren’t an expert, but it sounds like zeppelin. not what you’d expected.

“hello?”

you shake yourself free of surprise, and the wheels beneath your chair scrape against the linoleum floor as you sit forward. “oh, sorry. i thought i was calling the deacon residence?”

“deacon? like john deacon?”

“yes, i’m beau’s schoolteacher. i thought—well, this was the number on the contact form.”

there’s a sigh, and the phone brushes against something rough before rog says anything more. “hold on.” when he speaks next, his voice is distant yet poorly muffled. “deaky! there’s some bird on the phone for you! what have i told ya about putting the shop’s number down instead of the house’s? fuckin’ hell, mate.”

you frown, pressing your fingers to your lips as you wait for... deaky... to take the phone from his co-worker. when a new voice does appear on the line, you again find yourself surprised.

“hello? this is john deacon.” john’s voice is almost lilting, like a song. it’s soft, comforting—though how you determine this from four simple words is beyond your understanding.

“mr. deacon, hi! my name is [y/n] [y/l/n]. i’m beau’s teacher. i thought we might have an over-due chat, if you have the time?”

“oh, hello.” there’s a pause on the other end, as if he’s considering whether or not he’ll entertain your out-of-the-blue phone call. “has beau done something wrong?”

you laugh despite the worried edge to his tone. “no, absolutely not! beau is a delight. he’s practically a model student. however, i do have a few concerns... do you have a moment?”

“yes, i can have. just give me a second.” the line goes muffled again, the only sound a fading rolling stone’s song before all goes quiet. you hear a door shut and the squeak of a chair before john speaks again. “i suppose this is about beau’s shyness?”

you choose your next words carefully, uncertain if john simply cannot accept his son’s retreat into himself or if he does not see it. you’d rather not jump to conclusions and alienate him on your first phone call, but you must admit your unease at hearing the word shyness. beau is far more than shy. despite the frown puckering your brow, you hold your concerns close to your chest for the moment.

“shyness is a word one could use, yes.”

“he’s been that way since his mum died last year.”

rolling your lower lip between your teeth, you nod. “i heard. i’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

john makes a noise somewhere between a huff and a grunt and does not acknowledge your paltry offer of condolence. “if you’re calling to ask how you can fix ‘im, i don’t have any answers for you.”

“i don’t want to fix him, mr. deacon,” you say. “i simply want to help.”

“i’m sure you’ve spoken with mrs. cooper then.” he sighs, and the sound seems to rattle the receiver pressed against your ear. “look, i appreciate what you both are trying to do for beau. but he’s young, and the pain of losing his mum— i just don’t want him to rush into moving on.”

“oh, mr. deacon, that’s not my intention at all!” you wince at the high-pitch of your voice and clear your throat. good lord, this was not going as you’d planned. “i just want him to feel comfortable in the classroom, that’s all.”

“that’s kind of you, but i think it might be easier if you just let beau work it out for himself.”

you fall silent and glance down at the hem of your blouse. there’s a blue thread dangling from the article of clothing, and you pull on it, watching the thread unravel until it falls free from the shirt itself. 

in all honesty, you’re puzzled by john’s hesitance to so much as entertain your concern. anyone—student, teacher, classroom parent—who comes across beau knows he’s more than shy. it’s written in his face, in the way he holds himself, in the way he shuffles aimlessly to and fro. god, he breaks your heart. you want to wrap him in a blanket and protect him from the cruel world.

but you’re not his mother. you’re merely his teacher, and you must respect john’s wishes despite how wrong you think they are. perhaps, in time, he will come around, see the need for a little concerted effort in helping beau work through his obvious grief-stricken state.

“is there anything more i can do for you, ms. [y/l/n]?”

clearing your throat again, you sit straighter in your chair and fiddle with a pen on your desk. you click the depressor up and down, up and down. “no, there’s not. i’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

“you didn’t,” john says—and his voice has that indescribable soft quality you noted the moment he first spoke. “really, it does mean something to me that you even thought to call.”

“i care for my students a great deal.” you aren’t sure what brings the words to your lips, but the second they fall past your tongue, a flush crawls up the back of your neck. you’re sure you sound like a petulant child, whining at the mere inconvenience of a rejected idea.

“i can tell.” his tone is anything but salty. in fact, the truth dripping from each word leaves you decidedly flustered. you click the pen faster, your leg bouncing beneath the desk.

“yes—well—i’ll leave you to it.” though you add, “if ever there’s something i can do for beau, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“i’ll be sure to.”

after a rushed goodbye, you drop the phone to its base. the hard-plastic clatters, the coiled wire dropping in a pile on the desk. you press your fingers to your eyelids and groan. both deacon boys, it seems, have the power to infuriate and melt you at the precisely the same moment.

this, you think, does not bode well for the rest of the year.

if you’re being honest, you have to admit that you think of john deacon often as the school year falls into a comfortable rhythm. no matter how hard you try to forget the phone call, forget the way his voice lulled you into a strange sense of serenity, he’s like a specter in the back of your mind: always there and definitely uninvited.

still...

when the children work silently at their desks, you sit behind yours and struggle to keep your mind from wandering to either of the deacon boys. when you greet beau as he walks through the door each morning, you resist the urge to drop a question about his father’s well-being. when the faded red corvette pulls to the curb each afternoon, you bite your tongue and fist your hands at your sides to keep from introducing yourself properly through the open window. 

it’s embarrassing, really, how much the phone call with john deacon has affected you. it’s embarrassing how... interested you are in his life. you’re a schoolgirl with a crush—a crush on a man you’ve never even seen! if you were to admit your undue fascination with the deacon household to your best friend ami she would laugh in your face and remind you how desperately you need to get out more. you keep your wonderings and your daydreams to yourself to save her the trouble of telling you what you already know.

come mid-november, when the students are well-adjusted to their daily routine and you’ve learned how to juggle so many personalities at once, you finally pause to take a breath. the breath comes at the end of a school-day. it’s drizzling outside—not raining, but not dry either. the sky is a wash of gray and a deep purple. there’s a storm coming, a bad one too from the looks of it. humming to yourself and contemplating whether or not you should stop by the grocery on your way home, you tug on your jacket and step outside the school into the chilled autumn air. 

you’re about to cross the parking lot to your car when you hear a harsh sniffle come from your left. you pause, keys in hand, and twist to see a huddled form on the curb. it’s clearly a student and a young one at that. knees drawn to their chest, backpack large over their back, fingers interlaced on their knees, they are the picture of a frightened schoolchild. the hood of their blue raincoat obscures any defining features, so you hustle to their side and kneel down, but not before glancing at your watch.

nearly four. someone’s been forgotten.

“hey?” you tilt your head to try and catch a glimpse of the face beneath the shade of the jacket hood. “did mum not come through the car line?”

you barely stifle your gasp when the slick raincoat crinkles as the student turns to meet your gaze. 

it’s beau deacon.

his eyes are puffy, tears still clinging to his blotchy cheeks. beneath the wide frames of his glasses, fear swims across his gaze. he draws in his lower lip and rubs his hand under his nose. his eyes flicker to the ground, his toes tilting inward.

you press a hand to his shoulder. he feels so small beneath your palm, like a fragile piece of clay, molded by tragedy and loss in such a short span of time. “where’s your father, beau?”

he shrugs. “dunno.”

“i guess he’s running late.” you look at your watch. very late. “should we give him a call?”

beau nods, and you stretch to your full height, offering your hand to help him from the curb. beau does not take it as he stands. he pushes his glasses up his nose and follows you inside the school office where he hesitates in the doorway as you borrow the receptionist’s phone to call the auto-shop.

no one answers.

lowering the phone to its base, you look over your shoulder. through the venetian blinds you can see the sky darkening as you hem-and-haw. in the distance there’s a flash of lightening, and fat raindrops dot the tan sidewalk.

you could leave beau with the receptionist. it’s not uncommon for parents to run late or completely forget about their child. normally, betty calls the child’s guardian and gives the waiting student a granola bar and coloring page or picture book to flip through as they wait for the mortified adult to speed to school. there’s nothing obligating you to stay. 

just as there’s nothing obligating you to offer to drive beau home.

you look at betty and calculate the words of your offer. “would it be wrong of me to drive beau home? he lives on my way ‘s all.” boldfaced lie—at least, you think—but what betty doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

betty doesn’t stop clacking on her electronic typewriter. “i don’t think so.” she peers over her glasses at the clock hanging over the door, still typing. “i’ve got a dentist appointment in half an hour, so i don’t have time to wait around today. you’d be doing me a favor, love.”

“alright, it’s settled then.” you slip the thin strap of your purse over your shoulder and turn to beau with a toothy grin. “i’ll drive you home. maybe your father just isn’t feeling well today and overslept?”

beau frowns, and inwardly, you cringe, your smile faltering. beau’s mother died of an illness, so it likely disconcerts him to think of his father in a similar state. in a piss poor attempt at an apology, you grab a piece of chocolate from the bowl near betty’s desk and slip it in beau’s hand as you make your way to the parking lot. the faintest flicker of a grin crosses his face as he methodically unwraps the candy. you take that as a sign of forgiveness.

once beau is snug in the backseat of your station wagon, you pull into traffic with a bubble of giddiness in your stomach. what you’re doing is ridiculous. though you feel horrid beau was left behind, there’s a sick park of you that is glad for it. it’s unlikely you’ll ever meet john deacon unless fate throws you together. he did not attend back to school night, and as a single father, you doubt he has time for any of the other parent-student events on schedule for the rest of the year. in all honesty, you’re taking this opportunity to put a face to the man behind the phone call that’s plagued you with daydreams since it occurred.

if you can just see his face, just learn what he looks like, perhaps the fascination with fade. unless, of course, he turns out to be as attractive as your mind has made him out to be and then you’ll be in even hotter water than you are now.

adjusting yourself in your seat, you glance in the rearview mirror. beau has his head pressed against the foggy glass of the window, his eyes scanning back and forth as he takes in the surrounding scenery. rain droplets create dark shadows over his face, and you wonder if that’s what he feels like on the inside: foggy and rainy and shadowy. you shake the thought free; you read too many melodramatic novels.

“so, beau, what’s your address?” you ask, your tone obnoxiously chipper. he tells you, and you shrug as you tighten your grip on the steering wheel. “gotta give me more than that, hun. do you remember how to get home? do you think you could tell me?”

beau nods and scoots away from the window, leaning nearer the space between the driver and passenger seats. there a gleam in his eye. you catch sight of it as you turn right at his instruction and see him hovering near your shoulder. it seems that with each turn you make his voice inches a decibel louder until you can hear every word with a clarity previously unknown. he’s confident when he’s instructing you, when he knows what he’s supposed to do.

he’s confident when he’s helping.

you tuck the bit of knowledge away for later as you pull into the cracked driveway of a red-brick bungalow. the house is small and unadorned, the homes on opposite sides just as plain and simple. a single spruce tree, like something out of a holiday catalog, is the only foliage in the yard. gauzy curtains are drawn to block the sunlight coming through the two bay windows framing the white front door.

you turn the car off as beau slides across the bench to open the car door. grabbing your handbag, you all but tumble after him, hastening up the sidewalk.

“wait a minute! beau!” you punctuate your call with a breathy laugh and smooth the sides of your hair back as you approach the front door. the bubble of giddiness from moments before has turned to a bubble of nerves, and once again, you realize this moment is entirely ridiculous. still, you adjust your blouse and straighten the crooked edge of your collar.

beau’s left the front door open, his shoes and backpack already tossed on the living room floor. you hesitate at the threshold. you haven’t been properly invited in, but the open door might just be beau’s way of telling you it’s alright to invade his home. at least, that’s the message you decide to take. 

crossing the threshold, you hold tight to the strap of your purse and glance around the cramped front living area. beau’s nowhere to be seen, and the home is silent as the grave. you bite the tip of your tongue when your gaze falls over a photograph of a woman holding a baby. it’s beau and his mother; has to be.

maybe... maybe you’ve overstepped your—

“beau, is that you?” the sound of heavy footfalls on stairs snaps your attention away from the photograph. before you can slip away and forget you ever had the silly notion of meeting your student’s father with the intent of something other than a professional hello, a man rounds the corner.

your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. it’s not the john deacon you’d imagined.

he’s shorter than you pictured, only several inches taller than yourself. his jaw is sharp, peppered with a five o’clock shadow, and a thick mustache almost covers his upper lip. a white wife-beater tucked into green trousers completes the ensemble, and his bare feet pad across the floor as he sticks his hand out in greeting.

“you must be the teacher!” he pumps your hand up and down, his grip crushing but his smile wide. his voice is friendly and welcoming, though you can’t be sure it was the voice you heard over the phone. so many days have passed since then, perhaps you just forgot, though it’s highly unlikely. 

“i’ve been trying to call deaky ever since i got here, but the damn fool just won’t pick up. i don’t even know where beau’s school is so i couldn’t come and get him myself. the ship we run here isn’t very tight.” he rolls his eyes with a grin. “thanks for bringing him home, darling.”

your head swims as you struggle to keep up with the man’s fast pace. so, he isn’t john deacon? and john deacon isn’t here? you open your mouth to ask the first of several questions but he beats you to it.

“hell, you look positively confused. shut the door, won’t you? the rain’s getting in, and molly was always worried about the the hardwood. i’ll put on the kettle.”

“oh, i don’t—”

he bumps your hip toward the door. “nonsense! deaky will want to thank you for driving beau home.” he’s around the corner before you can refuse, so you shut the front door against the steady rain and slip off your shoes, leaving them beside the two pairs already against the baseboard.

you’re quick to follow him to the kitchen. the walls are a muted yellow, the countertops clear but the sink full of unwashed dishes. the refrigerator in the corner is bare save for the back to school letter you gave to each student to bring home to their parents. that—and a photograph of four men in a basement. it appears to be a homegrown band of sorts, and the man behind the drumkit is shouting at the man who looks like an overgrown string bean. you’re not sure which one is john, so you turn away, feeling rather out of place when the man at the stovetop says:

“beau’s probably in his room. he always holes himself away as soon as he gets back. doesn’t come out until supper. that’s when deaky gets home.” a pair of mugs clatter against each other as he pulls them from a cupboard. “brian says it’s just a phase, that he’ll grow out of it once he processes molly’s death, but i’m not certain.” the man’s eyes flicker to you, and he laughs, loud and short. “oh dear, i’ve done it again! i forgot you’re not in the loop. i’m freddie,” he explains. “part-time nanny, full-time diva.”

you accept the mug of tea as freddie passes it to you, a smile lifting your tight mouth. “[y/n] [y/l/n]. so you’re beau’s... nanny?” 

freddie drops to the round kitchen table shoved in the space between the kitchen counter and the wall. you follow suit and stir a drop of sugar in your tea. “you could call it that. i just watch him in the afternoons, between school and deaky getting home.” he sighs. “since molly... well, things have been hard to juggle.”

“i thought mr. deacon picked beau up from school? unless that was you in the car i saw?”

“heavens no! i don’t drive!” freddie laughs again. “that was deaky you saw. he takes his break at the garage long enough to pick beau up and bring him here. i guess he and rog were overrun today. bet beau was terrified. poor dear...”

you glance over your shoulder, down the dim hallway leading to, you assume, beau’s bedroom. there’s a half-full laundry basket deposited outside another open door, perhaps the bathroom. a few mislaid toys litter the carpet. it’s reassuring, knowing that beau has a few good men in his life, willing and ready to raise him. still, there’s a pervading sense of loneliness throughout the bungalow. you saw it in the photos on the living room wall, but it’s here too: in the dead roses, brittle to the touch, in the table vase; in the index-card note tucked on a notch in the cupboard, the feminine handwriting unreadable from your spot at the table.

freddie’s voice is somber when its breaks through the thick air. “complications of pneumonia,” he says, following your gaze to a wedding photo on the hallway wall. “it came on quick but didn’t last long, thank heaven.”

unbidden, tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’ve never felt more like an intruder—and you know why.

your crush on john deacon is misplaced. you see that now. realizing what you’ve done in coming here—twist a child’s terrified moment of abandonment for your gain—makes you sick to your stomach. what kind of person are you? assuming a recently widowed father would be at all interested in his son’s pesky teacher? the thought brings a flush to your cheeks, and you rise from the table all too fast. the mugs of tea wobble when your knee connects with the underside of the table.

freddie frowns at you. “you okay, love?”

“i—” how to explain yourself without sounding a total fool or heartless woman? “i think i’ve overstayed my welcome” is all that comes to mind, and you aren’t surprised when freddie uses his foot to push your chair back out from under the table.

“sit down. john will be home soon. let him thank you then you can go.”

from where you stand, you look to your right. the front door practically screams for you to politely decline freddie’s insistence and high-tail it to your car, to get out while you still have the chance. but he’s making it too easy to stay for what you’ve come for: a peek at the illusive john deacon. you know you should go, that you should leave well enough alone, but despite your best intentions, you find yourself sitting down again and allowing freddie to bombard you with questions about teaching life.

half an hour later, when your sides hurt from laughing while freddie regales you with the dramatic story of beau’s birth, the door to the garage opens and closes with a loud click. you twist in your seat, arm draped over the back, and bite your lip hard to keep from drawing in a sharp breath.

by god, he’s a stone-cold looker. better than you could have imagined.

john deacon stands in front of the garage door, his head of tight curls wet from the rain. he’s tall but not towering, his shoulders made broad by the leather jacket across his back. he hasn’t noticed you or freddie as he’s too preoccupied with wiping the grease on his fingers across a piece of soiled cloth. he turns, not towards you, but towards the hallway when beau tumbles out of his room with a shout of joy. beau races down the hall, his arms extended, and jumps into his father’s waiting embrace. john mumbles something in his son’s ear, ruffling his hair, before dropping him back to the ground. the sullen little boy jumps around his father’s feet, chattering in great detail about his day at school, though he forgoes mentioning his father’s absence in the car-line. 

you exhale, a wash of new tears covering your eyes as you stare at beau. he can be happy. you’d thought it impossible.

you must have exhaled louder than you thought because john looks over at the sound. his brow tightens in a frown of confusion, his eyes flicking back and forth between yourself and freddie, but freddie is quick to explain. he stands from the table and takes your hand, pulling you to your feet.

“deaky, this is [y/n] [y/l/n], beau’s teacher. remember you spoke to her on the phone?”

your cheeks heat at the thought of him mentioning the phone call beyond the walls of the auto-shop. warmth spreads over your face even further when he gives you a tight-lipped smile and extends his hand. you slip your fingers over his palm, and he shakes your hand.

for a moment, your hands linger as john glances at beau, who is tucked behind his leg. he cringes, groaning. “please tell me you didn’t go out of your way to bring beau home today?”

you drop your hand from his and clasp your fingers before your waist. scrunching your nose, you tilt your head to the side. “well...”

“bloody hell,” john murmurs. he screws his eyes shut and runs a palm down his face. “i’m sorry,” he says. “you shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“it was no trouble, really. in fact, you live on my way home.” the comment isn’t a falsehood. you’d realized as beau pointed his way home that your flat lie only a minutes down the road. just as it had then, the realization sends a nervous clench to your stomach now. the thought of the deacons so close...

“you must think me a horrible father.” as he says this, john reaches around to smooth his hand across beau’s back. the gesture, done mindlessly, almost makes you laugh. how could anyone find him a horrible father?

“absolutely not, mr. deacon.”

the corner of his mouth twitches upward in something close to a smile. “john, please.”

you roll your lips together and blink rapidly to keep your eyes from going wide. john. “lots of people miss the car-line. it happens more often than you think.”

“well, let me give you something for your trouble.” he slides past you, the scent of cologne and car oil in his wake. his movements are stiff, hampered by beau who insists on clinging to his father’s leg, his ankles crossed over john’s foot. 

“i don’t want anything, john.” you almost trip over his name. it tastes good, strong and steady. god, you’ve got it bad. “it wasn’t a hassle.”

john ignores you as he slides open a kitchen drawer. unsatisfied with its contents, he reaches for another before meeting your eyes with a wry smile. “all we’ve got is take-out menus anyway.” he shuffles nearer, beau still heavy on his leg. “thank you, ms. [y/l/n], for bringing him home. i got sidetracked at the shop and—” he sighs. “anyway, just... thanks.”

“again, you’re welcome—and call me [y/n].”

there’s a moment where you’re simply staring at one another, the room around you lulled to a comfortable silence. john is handsome, of this there is no doubt. perhaps he’s not striking in a classical way but you’re sure someone would have killed to chisel a bust of his face during the sixteenth century. it’s regal and sure in all the right places, but soft where it counts: around the eyes. when he chuckles at something freddie says, his eyes fold around the edges, and your heart all but gives out.

“what do you say, [y/n]?”

“sorry?” hopeful no one caught you ogling, you bring your attention front and center, turning to freddie. his proposal dawns on you a second too late to be anything but obvious. “stay for dinner? no, i can’t do that.”

“why not?” freddie reaches out to pinch your forearm. “it’s our way of saying thanks, and neither of us will try to poison you with our cooking. we’ll just have brian bring something ‘round.”

you shake your head and scoot around freddie to lift the handbag hanging from a kitchen chair. “i’d like to, but i’ve stayed too long already. perhaps another time.”

prying beau from his leg, john trails behind freddie as you make your way to the front door. freddie wishes you well, reminding you to drop by any time, and john simply lifts his hand in a motionless wave. on the front stoop, hair tangled around your face by a sharp wind, you lean your torso across the threshold.

“mr. deacon—i mean, john,” you say quickly, willing your voice to sound stronger than you feel. “if you’d like, i can drive beau home in the afternoons. i live not five minutes from here, and it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

john hesitates. beau stands in the kitchen, his head poked around the corner. john looks over at his son then back at you. “that’s a kind offer, but i like coming to the school.”

your eyes flick to beau, to his round, soft face and intelligent eyes. yes, if you were his mother you’d enjoy coming to pick him up too.

with a nod, you retreat into the wind. “well, the offer still stands.”

as you slide into your car and pull out of the driveway, waving to beau who now stands in the doorway, you hope against hope that john will accept the offer one day—just so long as it means you get to see him again.

he calls during the middle of show-and-tell. you nearly forgo the call as abby sinclair insists on lifting her pet toad for all to see and you’re worried she’ll drop it, but you’re waiting for a message from the front desk—missing package again—so you pick up on the last ring.

“hello?”

“hi, ms. [y/l/n]. it’s john deacon. is this a bad time?”

“oh, mr. deacon!” you wince at the delight coloring your voice and tear your eyes away from abby, who has handed her toad off to max. “i was expecting a call from the front office.”

he snorts out a rushed laugh. “sorry to disappoint.”

you brush a lock of hair behind your ear. “no, not at all.” out of the corner of your eye you catch max squeezing abby’s toad between his palms, and you push the phone away from your ear. “oy! max, knock it off! abby, please put the toad back, dear?”

john is chuckling on the other end of the line when you return to the call. “sorry,” you say. “show-and-tell.”

“i know. beau was excited this morning.”

with a smile, you glance at the boy in question. “he did very well. everyone was impressed with what he brought.”

“brian made that for him as a birthday gift, so he can’t take any of the credit.”

“he didn’t! he explained who made the planets, but he did want to be clear about who painted the stars.” you hesitate, the sound of laughter over your shoulder reminding you not to get too entangled by the sound of john’s voice. “is there something i can do for you, mr. deacon?”

“right, yes. well, it’s a bit awkward... do you remember a few weeks ago when you drove beau home?”

you nod, the memory lifting from your heart with ease. how could you forget? you only replay the evening like a film every night before you fall asleep. “of course”

“do you remember offering to drive him home again?”

“yes.”

“i’m in a jam at the shop and can’t leave this afternoon. would you mind? taking him home, that is.”

you answer without hesitation. “i can do that. it’s not a problem.”

“you’re a life-saver. it’s just with freddie not driving... i guess what i mean to say is thanks. it helps me out a lot.”

“i’m happy to do it, john.”

“i promise i’ll make it worth your while this time. proper take-out and all.”

“you really don’t have to do that,” you say, hoping he does anyway.

“no, freddie will insist. i’ll let you get back to class for now. thanks, [y/n].”

“don’t mention it. good luck with your jam at the shop. i hope it’s cleared up soon.”

“me too. all the sooner to get back to beau—and you.”

he hangs up before you can respond, and you’re left with your jaw scraping the floor and your heart in your throat.

all the sooner to get back to you.

the words circle your head like a drug for the remainder of the day. you can barely focus as you teach, stumbling over your words and through math equations and spelling tests. 

surely he didn’t mean it like that. he probably just tacked you on at the end of the sentence in his haste to get back to work. he probably wasn’t thinking when he spoke.

but, by god, you were listening. 

you’ve never been so head-over-heels for a man in your life. each day when you wake up with john at the forefront of your mind, you wish for a morning where you can stay in bed and dream of him all day—his voice, his smile, his gentle way with beau. it all makes you crazy. ami calls your fascination puppy love and claims it will fade with time, but you wonder if it’s gone deeper. you’re interested in more than john deacon’s looks. you’re interested in what makes him tick and whether or not he’s in a band with the three other men who constantly appear in every conversation you share and whether or not he misses his wife and what his hair looks like when he wakes up in the morning. you what to know him and be known by him.

all the sooner to get back to you.

perhaps it’s wishful thinking—a dreamy idea on the part of a lovesick woman—but part of you wonders if he feels the same way about you.

driving beau home becomes part of an unspoken routine. after sharing dinner at the deacon household that second evening, john admits when walking you to your car how overwhelmed he can feel between his job at the auto-shop and his responsibilities with beau. with a tentative hand on his forearm, you promise you’ll help lighten the load. he thanks you by squeezing your fingers with his, and then he’s gone.

it begins by driving beau home every monday, wednesday, and friday. you enjoy your time with him. as soon as he settles in the back seat of your station wagon, he comes alive. the protective shell he wears in the classroom is replaced by the bright and earnest eyes of a seven year old boy, curious about the world and all it has to hold. he asks you questions and tells you stories, and you laugh as you watch the light dance in his eyes. he’s a sweet child, and you truly treasure the afternoons you spend with him.

one friday, you drop him off and find the cozy bungalow empty. beau has stopped retreating to his room once returning from school—at least, this is what freddie tells you—so you’re not completely surprised when beau invites you in for an afternoon snack. you are surprised by the empty house, however. freddie is nowhere to be seen and neither is john. what concerns you even further is when beau opens the refrigerator and slams it shut with a huff.

“nothin’,” he mutters, slumping to the table with a groan.

“what?”

“there’s nothing in the fridge.”

“what do you mean by that?” you cross the floor and open the fridge, hoping beau’s comment is nothing more than a hungry child displeased with the array of choice and nothing to his liking, but you find his statement to be true. the fridge is woefully stocked—naught but a half-filled carton of orange juice, three apples, and a sandwich wrapped in tinfoil. you glance over your shoulder. “is it always like this?”

“no.” beau circles about on his chair. “but it’s happened a few times since dad and uncle rog got more busy at the shop.”

“well, that won’t do. grab your shoes, beau, we’re going to the market.”

once returned from your grocery run, you teach beau how to make spaghetti. he stands beside you on a stool, pushed up on his toes as he watches you prepare the boiling water and pasta. as you wait for the pasta to soften, you set about crafting a homemade pasta sauce. it’s your mother’s recipe, and it’s easy to make. easy enough that you allow beau to carefully slice the tomatoes under your supervision and dice the onions and sprinkle the spices.

the kitchen smells like your childhood: fragrant yet simple, sweet and comforting. somewhere in the waiting for the sauce to simmer, beau turns on a radio and draws you to the center of the kitchen. he holds your hand tight and kicks his feet to the music. you laugh and mirror his movements. he grabs your other hand and steps on his stool, forcing you to bend in an awkward twirl around his finger. you struggle but complete the movement, though he attaches himself to your shoulders like a barnacle. you whirl around on your socked feet in attempt to toss him off, but he holds tight, his fingernails digging into the skin of your collarbone. he squeals in your ear, a mixture of laughter and gasping breath and shrieks.

“mama, mama, stop!” 

he says it without thinking, his head lolling against your shoulder as you stop short at the sound of his breathless voice. he giggles against your back then releases himself and slides to the floor. you stare at him, feel his words in the back of your throat like an uncomfortable burn, and then you hear the garage door shut.

you swallow hard and force your eyes from the yellow-and-white linoleum floor. beau hops from his stool, sauce-covered spoon in hand, and rushes to his father’s side.

“daddy, look, we made dinner! miss [y/l/n] and me!” he tugs on john’s shirtsleeve, but john’s just staring at you, his face unreadable. beau turns to one of the other three men crowding the hall behind john. “uncle roggie, taste it!” he forces the spoon in the face of a mulleted blond.

eager to break the thick tension, you motion to the spaghetti. “i—there wasn’t anyone home so...” your sentence trails off, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

so many eyes on you. you feel exposed against them all, caught in a domestic moment with a child that’s not your own in a home that’s not your own.

john looks over his shoulder, eyes flashing in anger. “fred?”

freddie winces. “about that, deak.” he rubs the back of his neck and glances at beau. “i can explain later.”

“you’d better,” john mutters.

“i should go,” you say at once, hastily grabbing your things from the table. your keys jingle in your hand with the force of your anxiety, and you stub your toe against the floor in your hurry to put your shoes back on.

john’s hand on your arm stops you. you look up, stooped as you try to slip the back of your sandal over your heel. he looks down at you, face still remarkably unreadable. “no, please stay,” he says. “you made supper.”

you shake your head and rise to your full height. “i’ve intruded enough already.”

you’re embarrassed, too. the gaggle of men heard beau’s slip up; they heard him mistake you for his mother—and certainly they saw the immediate flush of happiness rise over your cheeks at the sound.

mama. you’d always hoped, always wished, someone would call you that one day. you just didn’t think you’d hear it from a student with a deceased mother and a father you pined after first.

“[y/n], stay.” john’s voice is soft, breathy, and his eyes flit back and forth between yours with a startling amount of intensity. 

how can you say no?

once the dinner has been divided, you sit beside john on the couch in the living room. the kitchen table is too small to host the gathering, so the living room was deemed appropriate just this once, to beau’s great delight. he sits on the floor at the coffee table, a tall glass of milk beside his plate of pasta, his eyes bouncing over everyone in the room with unrestrained joy.

“beau, why don’t you introduce everyone for miss [y/l/n]? she doesn’t know all your uncles.” john nods to his son in encouragement, and beau is only happy to take the job.

standing, beau crosses first to the impressively tall and curly-haired man sat beside him on the floor. “this is uncle brian. he likes space and teaches all the big kids at uni.” 

he moves to freddie, who sits on a plush armchair. “this is uncle freddie, but you already know him.”

the last man leans against the foyer table, his ankles crossed and sunglasses still perched on his nose. beau pats his arm. “this is uncle roger and he works with daddy.” in a stage whisper, he adds, “he thinks he’s a lot cooler than he really is.”

roger guffaws and lightly pushes beau’s head to the side. “oy, you twerp, take that back!”

glancing about the room, you nod in greeting. “it’s nice to meet you all. i’ve heard quite a bit.”

brian smiles at you from the floor. his legs are bent awkwardly beneath the coffee table, and you’ve noticed the way he helps beau cut his side salad and keep sauce from dripping to the area rug. “all good things i hope?”

“oh yes, of course.”

“[y/n], dear, you really must tell brian what that student of yours did last week,” freddie pipes up. “it had me laughing well into the night. i’m sure some of his twenty-year olds are much the same.”

“i shouldn’t, fred.” you look at beau, who is watching you in interest. 

freddie nods in understanding and tugs on his earlobe. “little ears, yes. maybe another time.” he pushes brian’s shoulder with his foot. “really is a riot of a story.”

as supper progresses, conversation twists and turns down different avenues. you explain how you came to teach in the area and find you used to work with one of brian’s newer colleagues. freddie tells the group about his recent run-in with an angry bird watcher in the park. his gestures are so grandiose he whacks roger in the chest, who has come to sit on the arm of fred’s chair. there’s more laughter than there is silence, and you settle back in the couch. at one point, john drapes his arm over the back of the couch—not around your shoulders, but close enough to send your heart into overdrive. it’s all you can focus on—the proximity of his muscular arm behind your head—as brian explains to beau the difference between the big and little dippers. even as roger describes the ramshackle band they four participate in on the weekends, you barely register the words because you swear to the high heavens you feel john’s pointer finger purposefully brush against your shoulder.

beau begins to yawn sometime near the eight o’clock hour, and you jump from the couch when you realize you’ve stayed so late.

“good lord, i’ve got to go!” you shuffle about the room, gathering your belongings, as john rises behind you. “i didn’t know it was so late!”

his hands are in his pockets, and he studies you as you put your shoes on. “got a big date tomorrow?”

you frown. “no,” you say on a laugh. “i’ve actually got breakfast with my mum.”

he looks away for a moment, but you can’t help but note the edge of a smile.

he grabs his jacket from the coat-stand when you’re ready. “i’ll walk you out.”

at the door you wave to the others. “good night, all! it was nice to meet you.”

roger tips an imaginary hat. “i’m sure we’ll meet again, [y/n], if deaky has anything to say about it.”

freddie kicks the back of roger’s leg, and the injured man doubles over in a yelp of pain. “you fucker!” freddie mutters. “you know that—”

john ushers you out the door before you can see or hear any more.

the night air is chilly, and you warm your arms around yourself. you reach for your keys in the depths of your purse and slide them into the lock on the driver’s side of your car. it’s dark out. you can barely make out john’s features beneath the light of the moon, but when he shuffles to the side, an automatic flood light turns on above the garage. you blink against the sudden light and smile, chuckling beneath your breath as your vision adjusts. you’re not eager to leave quite yet, and he doesn’t seem eager to send you away, so you both stand, looking at one another in the darkness of the drive.

“your friends are nice,” you say.

he hums in agreement. “m’yes, they are. we just started as a screw-around band a few years back, but when molly got sick...” he pauses, clasps his hand on the back of his neck, and shrugs. “they’ve been my lifeline, y’know?”

“i can’t imagine what that was like, losing her. i’m glad you had them around.” you suck in a deep breath. “about earlier... i didn’t know beau was going to say that, and i’m sorry it happened. i realize that my... involvement might appear to be me wheedling my way into your family, but that’s not it, really! i mean, i like you and beau—as friends—but i’m not trying to...” you sigh, shaking your head. “i’m sorry it happened ‘s all. i don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

before you know what’s happening, john’s reaching out to cup your cheek. his smile is soft in the glow of the moon and the floodlight, and your heart stops in your chest. 

his thumb brushes over your cheekbone. “i haven’t seen beau that happy in a long time. you’ve brought a lot of joy back into the house, [y/n].”

you’re sure you’re sweating despite the chill of night. you shake your head, but his hand holds fast against your face. “no,” you whisper. your voice sounds heady, even to your own ears. “beau’s just a good kid.”

“yes, and you’re a good teacher.” 

is his face inching closer? you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe.

“a good teacher and a good person.”

if it weren’t for your firm hold on the car door handle, you think you might slip to the ground in a puddle of goo. 

his lips are on yours, then, and you fall into his arms as he holds you against himself. you have dreamt of this moment far too many times to count, but you never thought it would happen. really, you thought you would finish the year without ever knowing the taste of john’s deacons lips. 

but there he is, and there you are, and he tastes like the wine he drank during supper. he is more eager than you thought he would be, and soon he has your back pressed against the door of your car. you huff into his mouth and feel your eyes roll back into your head when he drags his lips across your jaw, inching closer to that spot behind your ear. your arms practically quiver around his shoulders, and you open your eyes long enough to catch a glimpse of a particularly bright star winking down at you.

he catches your lips again, and you feel hot and delicious all over.

“john,” you mumble against his mouth. “john.” 

loathe as you are to stop the moment, you do, pushing his shoulders until he pulls himself away. his hand still cradles your hip, and he looks flushed in the moonlight. you’re sure you look equally as rumpled.

you grin. “well.”

he matches your smile, though it’s fleeting. “call you, yeah?”

unlocking your car door, you nod. “please do, mr. deacon.”

he shakes his head on a chuckle and shuts the door, waving gently as you pull out of the drive. when you’re several homes away, out of eyesight, you drift to the side of the road and blast the air conditioner. then you pound your fists against the steering wheel and let out a muffled squeal of delight.

he doesn’t call you. 

when you sit down to think about it, it’s not that great of a surprise. you’ve been around him only a handful of times, and though you’ve both been comfortable in those moments, you don’t blame him for resisting whatever it is he feels for you. there’s beau to think about. you’re his teacher; surely there’s some line you shouldn’t be crossing? there’s molly too, and her memory and the years they spent together and the child they had together. 

if anything, you figure he’s using you to test the waters of romance again. those stolen touches and deep stares and that kiss in the drive—it’s all just experimentation. the conclusion drawn from those experiments? he’s not ready.

you sigh, take another sip of wine. maybe you should stop driving beau. you like john; you like him a lot. and after that kiss, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. you thought about him before, but never this much. he threatens to consume your every waking moment, and it scares you because he’s not interested. desperately pining after a disinterested man means one thing: ruin. if you stop driving beau home, put some distance between yourself and the deacons, the puppy love and infatuation will fade over time.

it has to or you’ll go crazy.

it’s early evening, and your stomach grumbles. your flat is quiet as you putter around the kitchen in search of a suitable supper. there’s not much in the cupboards and even less in the fridge. you desperately need to go to the grocery store. take-out it is. withdrawing a handful of menus, you spread them out on the counter and flip through them mindlessly.

your thoughts are elsewhere. always on john.

you wonder what compelled him to kiss you. he’s an enigma, john deacon. you’ve seen him in moments of great levity—when he’s around beau or his friends or recounting a story from his youth. he has an infectious laugh, delightful crinkles around his eyes, and a quick wit. but he can be hard, too, like an immovable stone. he’s quick to toss a glare at anyone in his way in those moments of weakness, and his biting wit can turn sour at the drop of a hat. you chalk it up to weariness, those moments. weariness, loneliness, frustration. it doesn’t phase you, though perhaps it should.

with a groan, you drop your forehead to the cool counter and shut your eyes. the kiss lingers on your lips; it has the entire week since. you want him badly—in more ways than one.

the telephone rings, and you startle, clutching a paper menu to your chest. “fuck,” you whisper. you need to get a hobby other than daydreaming. pressing the phone to your ear, you barely get out a word of greeting before someone’s shouting at you on the other end.

“[y/n]? it’s fred! we’ve got a fuckin’ problem over here.”

you frown. “freddie? what’s going on? why are you are john’s? it’s a saturday.”

“no time for that! how fast can you get here?”

“well, i don’t know. i’ve got to—”

“beau’s sick! he’s on the bathroom floor, moaning and groaning and—shit!—[y/n], i don’t know what to do!”

“i’m sure it’s just a tummy ache, fred,” you say. “i see it all the time in my class. give him some pepto and he’ll be fighting fit in the morning.”

“no, [y/n]!” something in fred’s tone—a raw, animal fear—has you standing straight, your heart stuttering in your chest. “he said he feels like he’s gonna die just like molly did!”

“okay, okay.” you begin to move toward your bedroom, but are yanked back by the phone chord attached to the wall. you stumble backwards with a grunt. “okay, i’m coming, fred. just hold tight.”

“fucking hurry!”

you slam the phone down, rush to your bedroom to change from your nightclothes, and jump in the car without a pair of shoes. as quickly as you can you race to the deacon household. the sun dips low, casting an orange glow over the suburban streets lined with family cars. you grip the steering wheel tight, your heart thumping a prayer of protection for beau. 

the driveway of the bungalow is empty, the garage door thrown open. the old convertible john toys with in the evenings is parked inside, but his everyday vehicle is gone. cutting the engine of your car, you run through the garage and into the house. fred stands in the hallway, pressed against the bathroom door. he looks ridiculous, clad in a bright yellow bathroom and bunny slippers, but he pounds his fist against the door, pleading for beau to unlock it and let him in. he turns at the sound of your bag dropping on the carpet.

“oh, thank god,” he breathes. he grabs your arm and wrenches you to his side. “beau, miss [y/l/n] is here. why do you talk with her, huh?”

before you say anything to beau, you frown at freddie. “where’s john?” your whisper sound harsh in the dim lighting of the hallway.

“at the shop. overtime. i can’t reach him.”

you jerk your head to the phone sitting on a side-table in the living room. “go try again and i’ll stick with beau here.” when he’s gone, you slide to a sitting position on the floor and press your ear to the thin wood of the door. “beau? beau, honey, it’s me.”

beau only groans in response.

“beau, can you please open the door? i want to help you. that’s it; just help.”

there’s a pause then you hear: “no. go away.”

“it’s okay if you’re embarrassed, beau. we all get sick sometimes. fred and i just want to help you feel better.”

there’s the sound of water sloshing and then a hard sniff. “i want my mommy.”

“oh, baby, i know.” you clear your throat to work past the lump rising to the surface. “come on, just let me in. i promise it’ll be okay.”

“but... what if i die like her too?”

“that’s not gonna happen, beau. i promise.” he doesn’t respond, so you plead once more. “please let me in.”

he shuffles to the door, unclicks the lock, and cracks it open. through the opening, you can see his pale face gleaming with sweat. gently, you push the door open further.

beau’s curled on the floor, his head bent toward his knees. his arms tighten around his stomach, and a spasm ripples through his body. he’s dripping with sweat, his star wars pajamas soaked through. hot air clogs the room, and you switch on the overhead fan. pressing your fingers to his forehead, you cringe and draw back. he’s burning up.

“beau, baby, what hurts?” you finger some of the sweat-matted hair away from his forehead. 

“my tummy.”

“what’s your tummy feel like?”

beau shakes his head into the floor. “bad.”

“do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

“already did. on my floor.” he opens his eyes long enough to stare at you through thick lashes. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t apologize about that. we’ll get it cleaned up later. i’m just gonna go get you some water, okay?”

he groans, shifting against another spasm of pain. “okay.”

stepping back into the hall, you grab freddie’s arm before he can slip into the bathroom. you tug him to the safety of the kitchen. his eyes dance between yours, expectant.

“well?”

“did you get ahold of john?”

“no, the fucker.”

“we’ll have to go pick him up then.”

fred’s brow twitches. “what? why? what’s wrong with him?”

you throw a glance down the hall when beau whines. “i think it might be his appendix. my dad’s burst last summer and he looked a lot like beau does now.”

“fuckin’ hell.” freddie runs a hand across his mouth. “just what deaky needs.”

you nod in agreement. “i know. we’ve got to take beau to a hospital, though, before it gets any worse.”

“yeah, yeah, i know. go get the car started and i’ll meet you in a minute.”

several minutes later, you’re en route to the auto-shop, freddie cradling beau in the backseat of your station wagon. the drive is tense, your bare foot hard on the gas pedal. beau wrestles and whines against freddie’s hold, continuously asking for his parents and where you’re taking him.

no one wants to say the word hospital, so his cries go unanswered.

freddie directs you to the auto-shop, his phrases terse, and you pull into the drive with a sharp squeal of tires on gravel. with the car still running, you hurry across the parking lot, loose pebbles catching on your feet. music blasts from a stereo within the garage. it’s loud and obnoxious and keeps you from locating john fast enough.

“can i help ya, miss?” a lithe man steps out of a side office, his hairline receding and face near gaunt. 

“yes—i’m looking for john deacon.”

the man continuously wipes his hands on a dirty rag. none of the oil and grease on his fingers budges. “he’s down there.”

dirt and grime covers the bottoms of your feet as you race down the shop. cars of all varieties line the wall to your left, some stationary on the ground, others lifted towards the vaulted ceiling. there’s a handful of men at work, but you don’t recognize any of them as john. you’re prepared to start shouting his name when a familiar voice stops you.

“[y/n]?” it’s roger. “can’t get enough of our deaky, can you?” he’s chuckling as he steps out from behind a truck. “what are you doing here?”

“it’s beau,” you say, and his face falls.

“over here.” roger wastes no time in finding john beneath a volkswagon beetle. only john’s legs are visible, his knees bent and leather boots firm on the floor. he curses when roger hooks the toes of his shoes around a curve in the sliding plate on the floor and drags john out from under the car.

“what the fuck, rog? i—” john stills when his eyes land on you. his muscle tee is loose over his chest, and a line of grease mars his forehead. he swallows. “[y/n]... i...” he sits up. “i’ve been meaning to—”

though you’re curious about the end of his sentence, you cut him off. “beau’s sick. we’ve got to take him to hospital.”

the blood drains from john’s face in an instant. the wrench in his hand clatters to the cement ground, and he’s grabbing your elbow, pulling you toward the exit, before you can say anything more.

“crystal, i’m gone!” he shouts, practically shoving you in the direction of the car.

there’s either no reply or you don’t hear it because john shouts for freddie to move the fuck over and give him beau. you slide behind the wheel and pause, twisting to catch a look at the scene in the back. 

beau looks like a newborn swaddled in his father’s arms. his face is wet with tears and sweat, and he sobs in his father’s grasp. john feels beau’s forehead and frowns, muttering an oath under his breath. then his eyes flick to yours.

“what are you waiting for? go!”

you don’t need to be told twice.

it’s another fifteen minutes before you reach the hospital. your head throbs under the stress of it all: beau’s pitiful moans for help, john urging you to go faster, freddie barking directions as he slaps the headrest behind you. before you’ve pulled to a complete stop, john is out, beau in his arms. you shoo freddie after him. 

“go! i’ll park the car.”

by the time you’ve found a parking space and picked your way across the parking lot, beau’s been admitted for emergency surgery. his appendix, as you suspected. it’s a routine procedure, and he’ll be fine within the next hour. relief floods your system at the news, and you find john and freddie sitting beneath a large fish tank in the waiting room. you take the open spot beside john and cross your ankles.

“your feet are disgusting,” fred says. he points to the bottoms of your feet, dark with dust, dirt, and grime. 

you shrug. “forgot shoes.”

the quiet of the waiting room is both a comfort and annoyance. a clock on the wall ticks loudly, and the fish tank bubbles at an uneven rate. every breath you take feels too loud, and the antiseptic smells cling to the inside of your nose.

still, the quiet gives you a moment of rest. you catch your breath. you let the knowledge of skilled and capable doctors working on beau ease your heart-rate. it will all be okay; he’s going to be okay.

you glance at john. his fist is pressed against his mouth, his eyes shut. his leg bounces, and you dare to reach over and lay your hand against his knee. he stills, his eyes flashing to you.

“he’s going to be okay, john.”

on the other side of john, freddie jumps to his feet. “i’m going bananas just sitting here.” he rubs the side of his head. “might burst. i’m gonna give brian a call.” he stalks away, his bunny slippers slapping against the linoleum floor.

you shake your head, biting back the urge to smile.

but then john’s fingers curl around yours, and you can’t help but give into the grin.

you look up, meet his eyes.

“i didn’t call you,” he says.

“no, you didn’t.”

he shifts in seat and looks to the floor. “you should be wearing shoes.”

at the turn of conversation, you frown then follow his gaze. “yes, i suppose.”

“take mine.” he releases your hand to bend down and undo his laces.

“no, john, don’t be silly. i’m fine.”

“please, [y/n], take the shoes.” he slides the boots toward you, and you begrudgingly slip your feet into the warmth of his shoes. 

you look silly, the pair of you—your ill-fit mtv t-shirt, loose jeans, and oversized leather boots; his muscle tee with the aptly faded word muscle scrawled across the chest, his faded jeans, and socked feet. one of his toes pokes through the end of his sock, and his exposed arms look cold in the frigid air of the waiting room. you laugh.

“we look like a pair of bikers or something.”

the corner of his mouth twitches upward. “not much of a biker. that’s crystal’s territory.” he doesn’t look at you when he continues speaking. “i’m sorry i didn’t call.”

on a sigh, you drag the boots across the carpet. though it pains you to do so, you let him off the hook. “it’s not a big deal, john. it was just a kiss. no promises.”

“i know.” his head tilts to the side. “but i wanted to call you. nearly did twice, but i chickened out.” he turns, then, and meets your eye. “i like you, [y/n].”

you smile, but know it doesn’t reach your eyes. still, you reach for his hand again. “i like you too, john. i’ve enjoyed getting to know you and your family.”

he shakes his head, and when he speaks, his voice is firm. “no, i like you. that’s why i kissed you and that’s why i didn’t call. because you make me so bloody nervous.”

your shoulders drop, as does your jaw.

“ever since you dropped beau off that first time, i’ve been thinking about you and about you and him together and then he called you mum and i saw the way you acted with him and—” he pauses for a breath. “molly was different with beau. i mean, she loved him, but she was always so fragile and worried and—and that’s not the point! the point is that you make beau happy and you make me happy. and i want to be happy again.”

“john...”

his grip on your hand tightens as he leans closer. “make me happy, yeah? i’m stubborn as a mule and shy, too, but i want you—badly.”

the fire in your heart spreads at his words. it spreads throughout your body until you feel like you could burst and shine a light into even the darkest corners of the earth. a laugh bubbles forth from between your lips. you lift a hand to stifle it.

“you want to know something?” you ask.

“what?”

“i’ve been pining after you, john deacon, ever since i heard your voice over the phone. i was content to just wallow in my daydreams, but this seems better.” you lift your fingers to brush his chin. “a lot better.”

“i can’t promise i’ll make a good boyfriend. i’m pretty rusty.”

“me too. we can be rusty together.”

he grins, leans forward further, his nose brushing yours. “can’t promise there won’t be hiccups. i’ve got baggage.”

“i can carry it.”

he kisses you, his hand on the back of your head, keeping you firm against his mouth. you grin, your teeth knocking his as you laugh. his curls are soft against your fingertips, and you hold on for dear life when he chuckles into your smile.

“mr. deacon?”

john kisses you once, twice more, before pulling away to look at the doctor. “yeah?” he doesn’t sound the least bit embarrassed to be caught in such a position in the middle of a hospital waiting room, but you hide your face against his neck. your cheeks hurt your smile is so wide.

“beau’s ready to see you now.”

john stands and extends at hand. “comin’, dove?”

your footfalls are hard against the ground, the boots heavy around your ankles, as you walk with him hand-in-hand to beau’s hospital room. you lean against his side, breathe the comfort of him in, and smile.

yes, this is much better than your daydreams—baggage, boots, beau, and all.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

(Accidental 150 Follower Special) IOTA’s Top 10 Worst Episodes of Miraculous Ladybug (Part 2)

Here’s Part 1

#5: Glaciator

Here's a good lesson to teach these incredibly impressionable children watching: If you're not in a romantic relationship by the time you're a teenager, you're a loser! And if someone says they just want to be friends, ignore that obvious hint that they're not into you and keep trying to impress them.

Marinette joins her friends to get some ice cream sold by the worst ice cream vendor in the world, Andre. Like, they have to find out where he's going to set up through a series of clues, they don't get a choice to order the flavors they like (and that's not even taking allergies into consideration), and he only gives a single cone to a couple to share while going on and on about how he knows about who someone really loves, and oh my God, why is this man still in business?

Surprisingly, as dumb as it is for Andre to get akumatized over a single customer doubting his magic ice cream, he's not the reason this episode is on the list. That honor goes to Cat Noir.

At the beginning of the episode, Cat Noir drops the pretenses and asks Ladybug out on a date.

Cat Noir: What would you say if you and I met up tonight for a little dinner? Rooftop style?

Ladybug: For dinner? As superheroes?

Cat Noir: Well, yeah. That's right. We're only together when we're saving Paris. I mean, wouldn't you actually like to get to know one another?

Ladybug: I... That's so thoughtful of you, but I can't. I already have plans with some friends.

Cat Noir: Well, if your plans end early, come and join me.

Ladybug: We'll see.

Cat Noir: I'll be waiting, my lady.

Notice that Ladybug doesn't say that she's coming, and mentions that she already has plans. Even the irresponsible Plagg points this out.

Plagg:You seem in a hurry to get stood up.

Adrien: She didn't say she wasn't coming.

Plagg: But she didn't say she was either!

So when Ladybug obviously doesn't come, Cat Noir just decides to mope around, acting like he was left at the altar, and when they meet up to take on the titular Glaciator, Cat Noir gets all pissy that Ladybug didn't come.

Ladybug: Hello, Kitty. Did the bad guys leave you cold?

Cat Noir: (sounding like his staff got shoved up his ass) How was your amazing evening with your “friends”?

Again, Ladybug never said she was going to meet up with Cat Noir that night, because she had plans. Even later episodes like “Stormy Weather 2” claim that Ladybug stood up Cat Noir, when she DIDN'T! There was never anything set in stone, so Cat Noir can't say that Ladybug stood him up.

Even after the fight, when Ladybug tells Cat Noir that she only sees him as a friend, afterwards, Adrien still thinks he has a shot with her.

Adrien: Perhaps Ladybug will love me someday. I mean, like, I love her. I have to believe. In the meantime, her friendship is the best gift of all.

Dude. Take. A. Goddamn. Hint.

As ironic as the circumstances are, Ladybug just said she isn't into Adrien, and he's still going to go after her. And spoiler alert, his attempts to woo her are only going to get worse from here.

Yeah, this episode is heavy on the romance, and the idealized vision of what the writers think being in a relationship is like. Admittedly, I have a more jaded view of romantic plotlines, as the only real relationship I had ended right before my senior year of high school, and it gave me serious trust issues as a result because of how badly it ended, so I don't want to consider myself an expert in relationships.

But at the same time, that breakup helped me learn to not prioritize being in a relationship, and just focus on self-improvement. If that was the lesson the episode was going for, I'd get it, but we never get anyone say that. All everyone in this episode talks about is how awesome being in love with someone is.

The fact that the audience is supposed to find Cat Noir's behavior charming is disgusting, and I can't believe that Astruc condones this kind of writing.

In addition to continuing the trend of making Cat Noir oblivious to the word “no”, This episode also managed to do the impossible and make me hate ice cream with a fiery passion.

#4: Copycat

This show is really bad with writing episodes about evil doppelgangers, and like with “Antibug”, it's about Ladybug getting blamed for something she had nothing to do with.

A statue of Ladybug and Cat Noir is being unveiled, but because Marinette is preoccupied with trying to make sure Adrien doesn't receive an embarrassing voicemail she accidentally sent him, she isn't able to attend the unveiling ceremony as Ladybug. So when the sculptor mentions he has feelings for Ladybug, Cat Noir says this:

Cat Noir: Hey, don't mean to burst your bubble, but you know, Ladybug and me, we're a thing, you know?

The Sculptor: Really?

Cat Noir: Yeah, we're like this (crosses his fingers to show how close they are).

This exchange is never mentioned in the episode ever again, despite being what gets the sculptor akumatized.

Copycat, the akumatized form of the sculptor, is a reused character model copy of Cat Noir, and so like every impostor storyline in every TV show ever made, the public immediately turns on Cat Noir when Copycat frames him to the point where the police try to arrest him.

In case you couldn't tell, once again, Cat Noir is a big part of why this episode is so awful. If his entitlement issues were actually brought to light and he learns to not act like he and Ladybug are meant to be, it would have worked. Instead, it's Ladybug who is blamed for Copycat happening. Seriously, Cat Noir gives Ladybug heat for not being at the statue unveiling, like it was her fault the sculptor was akumatized.

Even later on, when Ladybug has trouble telling the difference between the two cats, Cat Noir has the gall to say “Have I ever lied to you, Bugaboo?”

HEY! Shat Noir! Lying is the reason you're Public Enemy #1 right now! You have no right to act like Ladybug deserves your trust, especially after you lied about your relationship with her!

This episode was also a little... uncomfortable to watch for a reason. For point of reference, here is the sculptor before he got akumatized.

While I can't read your mind, I'm going to take a wild guess and assume that you, the reader, are thinking “How old is this man, exactly?”

For a while, people in the Miraculous fandom were a little creeped out by this man because the episode unintentionally made it look like this grown-ass man was in love with a teenage girl. It wasn't until March of 2020 that Astruc clarified his age.

But by then, the damage had been done, with some fan works, most notably Zoe-Oneesama's Scarlet Lady, calling his age into question (though ironically, the comic ended with the revelation that he is around the same age as the main cast about five months before Astruc's tweet).

The only thing this episode really accomplished was set the stage for Adrien's worst moments by showing how self-centered he can be, no matter how the show tries to portray his feelings for Ladybug.

#3: Ladybug (The Episode, Obviously)

This is where the Lila subplot comes to a head because Astruc didn't think it would make sense for Lila to play a part in the season finale, and it doesn't fail to disappoint... mostly because everyone had expectations so low, they've made their way to the Earth's core.

Lila frames Marinette for cheating on a test, stealing her grandmother's necklace, and pushing her down a flight of stairs (despite showing no visible injuries). Despite no investigation being launched, Marinette is immediately expelled from school with nobody believing her except Alya. Why is she suddenly on Marinette's side again, despite falling for Lila's lies so many times before, while reiterating that she's still her best friend? Because the plot says so.

And if the episode was about Alya investigating Lila and proving Marinette's innocence, it would have been okay, and could have led to some great character development for her.

Of course, that doesn't happen, as the idea of Marinette being expelled was that gripping of a plot, as the focus of the episode immediately shifts over to Hawkmoth attempting to create another army of Akumas like what he did in “Heroes' Day”... only for Nathalie's failing health to force him to abort the plan, making the entire moment pointless.

Instead, despite how dangerous it is to transform using the Peacock Miraculous, Nathalie becomes Mayura and creates another evil doppelganger of Ladybug. What is it with the writers and evil doppelgangers of the heroes? Did someone on the writing team really like the Spider-Man Clone Saga?

And when Cat Noir sees the doppelganger, well... I didn't mention a certain scene in “Puppeteer 2” because I felt it would be better to talk about it here.

During the battle with the pathetic wax statues, Cat Noir briefly lets his guard down around yet another evil doppelganger of Ladybug, this time, it's a wax statue being controlled by Puppeteer 2 (even though the way she talks is nothing like the way Puppeteer's minions talked because it was five-year-old girl doing the talking). The wax Ladybug goes in for a kiss, and Cat Noir almost lets her take his Miraculous if not for the wax smell giving it away, and not, you know, the complete 180 she took in terms of suddenly wanting to kiss him for no reason.

Okay, it's a little shaky, but Cat Noir still caught on. He'd never fall for a fake Ladybug just because she said she loved him, right?

Yes. He seriously took the side of the impostor all because of the sudden love confession. Just how MORONIC can one person be? If Caity Lotz randomly showed up at my doorstep and claimed she loved me, I wouldn't immediately start making out with her. I would want to know what the hell she's doing here, and why she suddenly declared her love for me.

But Cat Noir seriously falls for the fake Ladybug for the dumbest reason possible. He seriously doesn't think it's weird that Ladybug suddenly confessed her love for him?

And then Ladybug gets the charm that the fake Ladybug was created from, and suddenly, she's a good guy? Before we even get time to think about this, Mayura just erases the fake Ladybug from existence, and now we're supposed to feel bad that she's gone?

Even the expulsion subplot is easily resolved, as after an interesting scene with Adrien coercing Lila to confess in exchange for letting her model alongside her, Marinette is just let back into school with no difficulties. I mean, it's not like her parents would be pissed that their daughter was framed and possibly want to take legal action against the school, right?

And I have to reiterate, this is the last we see of Lila this season because Astruc thinks Chloe is far worse and deserves to be punished for working with Hawkmoth.

Between Marinette getting expelled, a second Scarletmoth attack, and the fake Ladybug, this episode just has too much going on, and it makes it incredibly hard to follow. If it was a two-parter, I think it could have been better paced, but from we got, it's just a mess of a poorly paced episode.

#2: Frozer

Wow, you probably didn't expect to see this episode on this list. I mean, everyone in the Miraculous fandom loves this episode!

Where should I even start? Maybe the scene from the trailer where Adrien reveals his identity to Ladybug... only for it to be a daydream. Because why would we actually want a reveal or have Adrien confess his feelings to Ladybug without the mask?

Yep, despite Ladybug saying that she only sees Cat Noir as a friend, as well as the fact that she loves someone else, he still can't help but try to make her fall for him. But don't worry, I'll get back to their relationship later on.

After that, Marinette agrees to come to the ice rink with Adrien so he isn't as nervous around Kagami, who is awful in this episode. Remember when Astruc elaborated on Kagami line telling Marinette to not hesitate as a warning to move her ass or Adrien was hers

Doesn't that just make everyone love Kagami as a character, and not as a forced love rival instead?

And this is the episode where the romance subplot in Miraculous Ladybug went from having an interesting concept with the Love Square, and turned it into a generic love triangle plotline thanks to Luka. I love Lukanette, but the whole love triangle only gives less time for the four sides of the Love Square to shine. It doesn't help that Marinette's conflicted feelings are brushed over so we can focus on the titular Frozer, who only gets three lines while akumatized.

And now back to the Whiny Cat Noir Show. For no reason, Cat Noir is suddenly all angry when he sees Ladybug, and just like in “Glaciator”, it's never acknowledged. Though at least here, Cat Noir admits that Ladybug's plan to defeat Frozer is right.

And then there's the ending, where it looks like Marinette is going to confess her feelings to Adrien... only for that to also be a daydream.

Hey, if any of the Miraculous Ladybug writers are reading this... STOP TEASING THE AUDIENCE LIKE THIS AND CUT THE BULLSHIT ALREADY!

This episode is proof that the romance subplot will just be drawn out even more, all while teasing the audience with potential confessions and reveals just to keep them hooked. And yet, it was only a taste of what the romance would be like in Season 3.

And even then, I still think one episode is worse than this.

#1: FELIX.

I hate this episode. It is among the worst episodes of any TV show I have ever seen. Not just for the writing, but for what it represents. Let's just say that like “Animaestro”, Astruc had a hand in the way this episode turned out, and unlike “Animaestro”, there was a big fallout on Twitter.

In fact, I'm sorry to keep leading you down the rabbit hole like this, but I think this episode deserves its own post. Or rather, its own posts.

For now, I'm going to work on the list of the best episodes to help me recover my sanity.

[petri808]

Soooo it turns out @random-rave and his knowledge of my obsession with this show is who sent this prompt in for the Sinfully Nalu event 🤣  thank you @phoenix-before-the-flame who made me the banner! She’s fucking awesome go commission her!

whipped it up for Bonus day- Massage prompt with dirty/kink talk thrown in 😊

“All rise. Last case number 80 on the docket before lunch in the matter of Dreyar versus Alberona.” Bailiff Natsu hands Judge Lucy a folder.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Judge. Parties have been sworn in. Please be seated. Sir, have a seat.”

“Mr. Dreyar, I read your complaint and the facts of this case are a pretty simple one to figure out. You decided to go on vacation and allowed your 20-year old grandson, I’m assuming this person,” Judge Lucy points at the plaintiffs witness, “to house sit. He decided to throw a party and like most 20-year old parties, it got a little out of control. Your house was trashed, and a coffee table broken when the defendant fell on it. The defendant claims that it was all just an accident when another guest bumped into her causing her to fall so, she’s not responsible.”

“I believe my grandson when he says it’s her fault cause she was drunk and stumbling around.”

“Well since you weren’t there, you can’t tell me what happened.” The judge motions to the witness, “stand next to your grandfather and tell me your name.”

“Laxus Dreyar.”

“Mr. Dreyar, how did the coffee table get broken?”

“Cana was drunk, lost her balance and fell on it.”

Judge Lucy sits back in her chair. “This is your problem Mr. Dreyar. Your first mistake was leaving a 20-year old teenager in charge of an empty house! Miss Alberona was a guest of your grandsons and frankly, whether she fell on her own or was pushed is irrelevant to me. The law states that as a guest in the home, it is your responsibility to ensure their safety. If you allowed underage persons to drink and get drunk, in your home, any damages caused by them is your problem.”

“But your honor! I didn’t allow it.”

“You allowed it, by letting a 20-year old to stay in an empty house unsupervised!”

“Regardless, Judge, Miss Alberona is an adult and should be responsible for her own behaviors.”

“You’re not getting it sir! At 20 years of age, their brains aren’t fully cooked yet, especially if it’s under the influence of alcohol. They should certainly not be left responsible over a house! If instead of a broken coffee table, someone drove home drunk and killed someone, they’d sue you and take your house! You! Mr. Dreyar, it would be your fault! You’re lucky she wasn’t seriously injured by the fall!”

“But your honor, no one was forcing Miss Alberona to drink, that was her choice.”

“But for the fact that your grandson threw an underage party with alcohol, your property wouldn’t have been damaged! I’m sorry, but the law is the law. So, if you want someone to replace the table, I suggest you look to your right. Your case is dismissed.”

“But judge!”

Judge Lucy stands up from the bench. “Good-bye, Mr. Dreyar.”

The bailiff steps forward, motioning towards the exit. “Parties are excused, you may step out.”

In her backstage quarters, Judge Lucy Heartfilia sits back in her desk chair with her eyes closed, rubbing at her temples. If it wasn’t for the salary, going back to criminal court or even family court would be a lot more interesting. She knew the producers hired her for her looks, but she’d graduated at the top of her class and was no idiot when it came to the law. Ugh! She groans internally, why are people so stupid? Most of the cases that come before her are ridiculous. But that’s the kind of drama that sells on television and after five years on the air, her show was the highest rated court tv show.

She hears her door open and close, then soon after, large hands come to rest on her shoulders, massaging them, kneading the tight muscles. 

“The first case today was something else, huh?” The man chuckles. Bailiff Natsu Dragneel had been hired at the same time as Lucy for the show and over the years they’d grown close. So, when he’d noticed she carried a lot of tension in her neck and shoulders, he began giving her massages during the breaks.

“Ugh, tell me about it.” She groans, both from his touch and the stupidity of the case.” They come from farms in the middle of nowhere to complain about chickens? Like seriously?! I didn’t go through 7 years of schooling to litigate free range chickens.”

“I couldn’t tell what they were complaining about either from the pictures.”

Lucy sighs under his seasoned touch. After doing this for a couple of years, Natsu knew her hot spots and focused on those areas. His fingers deftly massage the scalene and trap muscles around her shoulder blades, pressing firmly with his thumb up along the spine to the base of her neck, then smoothing over the top of the shoulders. Her groans guide him as he works his way around and up following along the traps to the base of her skull and over the sides of her neck before sweeping down again to her blades.

For five years they’ve danced around an attraction to one another. Coy glances and light touches in passing. Sexual innuendos wrapped up in jokes. Everyone in the studio knew what was going on, but no one said a thing. It probably wasn’t a big surprise. Two single television celebrities working in close confines, it was bound to happen. Each time Natsu provided this intimate service, she’d fantasize about what more could such large, strong hands do to her body. “Mmm, feels so good...” Lucy purrs. Each pressured pass of his hands along her skin made it tingle and warmth surge, pooling south from all the stimulation.

He couldn’t help the growing smirk on his face and sense of conquest filling his mind. Natsu couldn’t count how many times he’s jerked off to fantasies of Lucy writhing beneath him, on him, cumming with him, and screaming his name as hers flowed from his lips. His hands slip around to the front of her neck, fingertips delving just under the collar of her robes causing her breathing to shorten as if waiting to see what more he would do. Natsu would never cross boundaries without permission, but just something about today gave him a bit more confidence to press his luck.

She looks at the clock and calculates they had just under an hour left of lunch left. Ugh, she did want more, so... Her fingers grasp the zipper holding her robes closed. “Shall I present… exhibit A?” Lucy breathes out with an unnatural hesitancy in her tone he wasn’t used to hearing from the woman. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and she swore she was more anxious in this moment than she’d been to take the LSATs.

Natsu plays along, just as nervous as she seemed to be, but fully willing to go where she wanted him to. “I understand that full disclosure is required counselor.” He wasn’t exactly trained in legal jargon but had picked it up over the years.

The door has been opened. She slides her black robe down to pool around her hips, revealing only a lacy black bra and no other top on. He wastes no time slipping both hands down her chest and into the bra cups, taking hold of the voluminous bosoms, and giving them the same treatment, he’d given the rest of her body, kneading the supple flesh like a clay ball being molded. Lucy finishes unclasping the bra and freeing Natsu’s reach. His lips burn a heated trail over her neck and ears, running his tongue along the shell, her head tilted to give him further access.“I love your hands on my body,” she mewls, breath shaky or hitched with each pinch and roll of his fingers on her nipples.

“Shall I continue?” Natsu questions as his hands snake lower down her midsection to test the waters. His pants are straining with how horny he was for her and prayed for the swift mercy of the court to grant him an extension.Again, she consults the clock. 

Fuck it, they could make it in time! “Yes...” Lucy shoots out of the chair and rolls it out of the way. She leans against the edge of the desk and quickly adds her skirt and panties to the floor. “Your turn.”

A growling grin slips out of Natsu as his uniform is shed in a matter of 30 seconds. Hot damn! He’s imagined her naked, but the real deal was so much sweeter! He quickly sleeves his cock for protection and advances forward, pinning her and pressing his hot and bothered erection against her slick folds. He leans in, stealing her lips with a rough kiss as his fingers grip hard to her hips.

“Mmph!” Lucy bites his lip to make a point and squeezes the head of his dick while rubbing her pussy firmly against the shaft. “Come on big boy! Do not tease me or I will hold you in contempt!”

Natsu growls a second time. “Do you have any idea how much court jargon turn me on?!” It was one of the things that attracted him to such a strong and smart woman. Turning their work into kinky sex play, hell yes!

“Oh, is that so?” She purrs back, sucking at his bottom lip before letting it go. “Then officer Dragneel please escort the prisoner to his cell.”

“With pleasure Judge.” He lifts her up until she’s seated on the edge of her desk, and spreads her thighs apart, snapping his hips forward and driving his cock straight into her wet entrance.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she cries out, moaning and throwing back her head in pleasure. His thick cock filled her perfectly! He holds onto her ass as he drives hard and deep. Her legs hook onto his hips to keep from slipping, and her fingers grip to his shoulders ready for a ride five years in the making.

“What’s the sentence your honor?” Natsu inquires of the mewling blonde.

“Twenty to life with no chance of parole.” She smirks. “Hngh!” Eyes rolling back as he slams into her. “H-Hard time...”

“Stuck in this prison, huh?” He thrusts again, this time so hard she squeals. “I can live with that.”

If anyone passed by and heard them, Lucy didn’t care and evidently neither did Natsu. All the pent-up sexual frustration justified the passionate affair. Damn it’s been too long since she’s been fucked raw like this! It’s a good thing she sits for her job. Over and over he plunges his cock deep inside, fueling up a wave of friction and heat to torture both of them. She was hanging on, sure by this point that her nails were leaving marks in his skin.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth. “The things I wanna do to you...”

“Mmm, things I wanna let you do to me... Kyah!” Lucy cries out, her body locking and spasming as an orgasm takes her by surprise. “Holy fuck!” She hadn’t expected one from such a quickie. Natsu’s head lowers and hands hold on tightly to her ass as the first pulse of his own orgasm hits. Lucy’s inner muscles were squeezing the shit out of his cock! He keeps jerking his hips shakily through each wave, riding it until all that was left is dry heaves. 

“Damn woman,” he pants hard from all the exertion and lets her slip back and lay down on the desk to recover too. “Were you serious about the life sentence or just jesting with me.”

She raises her head, staring at him over the mountains on her chest. “Deadly, like murder in the first degree.”

[popculturebuffet]

Top 20 Animated Episodes of 2020 Part 1 (#20-#11)

Hello Hello Hello animation fans! And welcome to something i’ve wanted to since last year. See I had the idea for a best episodes list back in 2019: rather than do a best shows list, which would be only about half of 20+ shows anyway, I thought i’d do a best episode lists: to give as many shows a possiblitiy to shine as possible while still honoring the best of the year. But my own natural foibles got the better of me: I INSISSITED on watching everything I missed.. then just kept putting THAT off until it was was spring, shows were coming back and I just threw up my hands. I’ve regretted it ever since and vowed, especially since in the interim animation went from just being something I analyized for fun to my analyzing it for fun AND profit, to get it done this year.  So I had to make a few caveats. First I gave myself at first till the 31st of the year and then due to covid and everything that happened, until the end of the first week or so of the year, i.e. today, to watch as much as I could. So several shows are missing. Some I REALLY got behind on and don’t have an excuse for (Craig of the Creek and Big City Greens), others I also really liked but my depression made it really hard to watch (F is for Family and very nearly Bojack), some I just kept putting off ever starting or forgot to start entirely (Hilda, yes even since season 1, Kipo: Age of the Wonderbeasts and It’s Pony) and some.. I gave up because as you can tell I sit on shows way too often (Ilve action wise I still need to get back to Doom Patrol), and I realized i’d rather watch stuff old and new I care about than waste time with something that I just stopped liking, i.e. Rick and Morty and Big Mouth which i’m guaranteed some flack for saying but I dont’ care. I have my reasons, and while I originally GAVE those reasons I decided to leave them out: this list is not about me bitching about why I quit certain shows. I’m a grown ass man, I can quit a show anytime, and given last year was such a craphole, I think we could use less piss and vinegar and more sugar.  So before we begin, a bit about the state of animation last year: It was in flux. WIth a new decade dawning we got great new shows like Owl House, Close Enough, which in a year full of terrible suprises not only FINALLY got released but did so with a second season order, Solar Opposities, the Midnight Gospel and Kipo: Age of Wonderbeasts. Ducktales returned for it’s best season ever. Amphibia returned for a pretty good season. Disney brought back the wonderful mickey mouse shorts towards the end of the year, FINALLY given D+ some non-movie animated content. The Casagrandes got better as it went and just barely didn’t make this list and the Loud House kept on trucking and shows no signs of stopping with a season renewal and a movie coming out. And Adventure Time staged a comeback a few years after it died and while I haven’t seen BMO yet, Obsidian was fantastic and only barely didn’t make the list. 

Not only that but we got   great new series announced for the next two years: Lumberjanes is FINALLY getting adapted and by Noelle Stevenson herself. Gendy Tarkovsky is not only returning to children’s animation but with a wonderously weird concept about immortal unicorns turned into teens> There’s a promising show about a ghost and a plucky tween coming this summer. The Rise of the TMNT movie is still happening. Craig McCracken is also coming back.  But naturally given this was 2020 the news wasn’t all good as we said goodbye to a lot of shows.. and this was after 2019 already took several from us, OK KO still being the hardest loss to this day and Star Vs very disapointing finale still leaving a bad taste in my mouth: Most gutpunchingly, the two frontrunners of animation at the time, shows that truly changed the game and probably gave other shows a chance at life they never would’ve had, including some on this list, ended. 

Steven Universe took it’s final bow after we got one last trip to beach city with the Future miniseries, with the show ending gracefully and beautifully, and having pulled off it’s third succesive possible ending for the franchise and it’s defntive ending for steven’s story. Bojack did the same not long before, ending on a bittersweet but beautiful note and with a one two punch of the series best episode and i’ts second best episode, a satsifying but bittersweet finale we’ll get to. Both shows as I said have set hte standards and tones for most animation after them, and both’s absence is felt.  She Ra suprisingly ended, though with a beautiful and wonderful finale we’ll, again, get to, and on i’ts own terms, but given it was the most likely to take up the shield from steven, it was another punch. Less peacefully was the ending of Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, a show I caught up on after it’s demise which was screwed by the network over toy sales because that’s.. still.. a thing. 

There is a light of hope, as the movie is somehow still in production and if it does well we may get season 3, but it’s dim and given the show, despite it’s flaws, had found itself and the finale, which they were given weeks to put together, was spectacular and, say it with me now “we’ll get to that”, I really hope it does. And that nick learns how to run an animation company for fuck’s sake. 

Infnity Train while not dead, is on life support despite having it’s best season in season 2 and an okay season that still tackeled racisim very well even if story wise the season faltered, at a time when we REALLY need to tackle racisim in our entertaiment period. Venture Bros meanwihle was just flat out canceled for no given reason despite both having as eason renewal order and you know, being Adult Swim’s highest rated and best show for over a decade. Like Infinity Train and Rise there’s a SCRAP of hope, both adult swim and hbo max are apparently looking into ways to bring it back so a finale movie or a season 6 comic are propable, but given the show ended on two big cliffhangers, and given 2020 already had pushed back a LOT of things I’d looked forward to for good reason, and had now just outright killed a show, it was a massive shattering blow and easily the biggest of the year.  But coming VERY close was finding out Ducktales was ending. While the finale would serve as a proper finale, I feel the show easily could’ve had more seasons.. Disney just dosen’t let shows go on forever, or sometimes not even for a reasonable amount.. or put those shows it didn’t let go on a resonable amount on Disney Plus.. and I will be bringing that last part up until Wonder Over Yonder is FINALLY put on the platform, along with MANy other shows. Figure it out.  But yeah that was ANOTHER show I thought would lead the way and like Gravity Falls lead to Ducktales, Ducktales will probably lead to more shows including HOPEFULLY a frank and matt lead Darkwing Duck.. and even that’s in jeapordy since instead it might be done by Seth Rogan’s company who while not bad people and if their working on Frakn’s reboot great.. are not the people who spent three seasons setitng up a reboot in a unvierse they already spent three seasons deftly crafting. I DOUBT Frank won’t be involved since Let’s Get Dangerous was promoted to hell and back, but again given this is disney.. it worries me and I won’t be settled on this till we get conformation of a proper reboot with frank and matt at the helm. 

Point is it was a rough year for animatoin even without covid taken into account pushing back seasons and forcing a change in work habits. But as this list attests even in the worst year in recenet memory, here’s hoping 2021 dosen’t say hold my beer, there was some damn fine animation, including some of the best i’ve ever seen and the shows that did leave or are getting ready to gave us one hell of a show. Before we get started one last bit of buisness for transparency: As I said i missed some shows and others I did watch but given despite this list’s sheer size it was still VERY tight, for the record each show got four nominees a piece, and some had even more episodes considered before widdling it down, and even at the 40 episode mark there were some tough cuts and by the end it was brutal. So here’s the show’s considered. 

Shows Watched: Steven Universe Future, Infinity Train, Close Enough, She Ra, Ducktales, Amphibia, The Loud House, The Casagrandes, Rise of the TMNT, Animaniacs, Wonderful World of Mickey Mouse, Adventure Time: Distant Lands, Solar Opposites, Bojack Horseman, The Owl House, The Midnight Gospel Shows That Did Not Make the Final List: The Loud House, The Casagrandes, Animaniacs, The Wonderful World of Mickey Mouse, Adventure Time: Distant Lands, and Solar Opposites.  Final note: all episode’s i’ve done reviews of at the time of this list will have links in the title to said reviews in case your curious So with that in mind , here’s my top 20 list, part 1.. becasue these posts are going to be long as hell so I needed to split up gang. On with the show after the cut as this is a really damn long one

20. Fragments (Steven Universe Future) “I bow to your strength.. my Diamond”  Steven Unvierse’s final act was a masterstroke. The show ended with every major conflict resolved as the Diamonds decided , if only for Steven’s sake at first, to change their ways and helped him restore the corrupted gems, while Lars made it home. Our heroes were FINALLY, after seasons and almost two in-story years, as Steven “Finally Done, Finally Us, Finally Me”, the last part being especially pogniant since, while done thanks to a horrifying action on whites part, his breif seperation PROVED there was nothing of rose left; She’s gone.  So Future uses this cleverly: With the conlfict of the movie resolved things were still very nice.. but eventually Steven started breaking down piece by piece: As the series went on it became clear what it was: A deconstuction of some of the less healthy part of the mostly fairly healthy and wonderful main show. It showed just what happen when someone whose put his identity into having some kind of destiny, someone whose felt their purpose in life is to make other people’s better and solve their problems and be a good person.. has no issues to solve. Oh sure there’s an antagonist here and there and Jasper refuses to change or admit no third great gem war is coming and that peace really has come.. but his family are finally happy with who they are, and are moving on with their lives. As someone whose had people move on without them and whose clunt to people this hits close to home.. hits close to home a lot. 

So as the season went on Steven clung to everything, taking it VERY badly when Lars and Sadie not only revealed their attempt at a relationship failed after years of build up, and never told steven because they thought it wasn’t his buisness, which is true to a point as them breaking up isn’t anything to do with him but someone should’ve told him it was amicable given the amount of shit he’s seen between you two, just saying. But it still meant a good chunk of his friends leaving town, and him, behind. Attempts to fillt his gap with tv watching or gardneing, aka what the crew amazingly dubbed “Depression Hobbies:”, a term that hits close to home, failed and then a far WORSE attempt to fill the void in his life by proposing to connie failed.. she turned him down firmly, but gently recognizing this was a terrible idea, they were too young, and he was clearly going through some stuff. As garnet put it “Your partner is your compliment, not your missing piece”. Another beautiful term to stick in my brain. 

So as if this wasn’t bad enough his body started mutatating and it turned out the pink form he’d gained was actually supposed to just be his body’s version of adrenline, but since he’d spent years in constnat struggle, his body was treating his emotinal stress like do or die situations with predictable results. We’ll get to that more in a bit but needless to say steven’s family were concerned and Greg returned from managing Sadie to TRY and help his son.. only to drive a wedge between them as Greg’s Smothering Parents seemed like the life Steven never had, instead of obnoxious people who refused to reconcile with their son even decades later despite plenty of effort on greg’s end and Greg having to raise a child alone with only marginal support from the gems at best at first. But Greg’s tragic inablity to see his son was hurting, as with everyone elses lead to him nearly getting them hurt in a car accident and thus this episode.  After getting chewed out by the gems, who tragically simply don’t realize what’s wrong with steven, can’t figure out why themselves and he refuses to tell them, Steven runs off, to the one person who would never tell the gems where he is and the last place they’d expect him to go at his lowest: Jasper. And thus we get one of the darkest and moodiest episodes of the show’s long history. 

After having lost a lot of his sense of peace of mind: his best friends are gone, his girlfriend is next, his parents and sister are constantly busy, there’s no one for him to turn to. Steven NEEDS someone like him and while his family is trying they just don’t know how to reach him and deep down he dosen’t WANT them to. Like me at times, shocker I know, he fears deeply that if they knew some of the flaws about him, some of the problems he’s had, they’d hate him. When as time would bear out for both of us, as my first stint of therapy near the end of colllege proved, it just means they understand you better and can HELP YOU. 

So instead he turns to Jasper, and he does so for good reason: He wants to control his power and emotions.. the problem is Jasper dosen’t WANT what Steven wants. Steven wants to feel godo again and feel healthy and be the person people want him to be. Jasper.. wants a fight. She wants a diamond, someone to serve, someone stronger than her who will LET her be what she feels she’s meant to be: a warrior, a destroyer, a breaker of worlds. So she slams that steven shaped peg into a round hole, and it’s horrifying and uncomfortable to see our hero turned from a loveable hero.. to a power obssed, almost vegeta-esque asshole .. in short she’s made him into the very thing he spent years fighting against, all because he’s so scared of himself he can’t face himself. It shows just how bad things have gotten: that steven’s hates himself SO MUCH, that he’d rather become something worse than face the truth and let his family help him. So convinced they don’t need him that he needs to be something ELSE. 

And so tons of training, abuse and hard labor lead to the moment Jasper and fans had been waiting for: a rematch between the two. And.. it’s easily one of the series best fights. For a series that’s at it’s core about ending the cycle of violence and often big exchanges of words and someone emotinally healing are treated as big as victories in combat.. the show has some of the best fight scenes in cartoons period, and this being the penultimate one, we’ll get to the last one next time, it’s a brutal, dbz style slugfest, something unlike the other fights in the show, with two opponents full of rage and hate going at it with everything they have.. ending in Steven, for one breif terrifying moment having BECOME what his grandmothers and mother used to be: A sadstic monster drunk on their own power “Your right jasper, I WAS holding back”

But when we next see Steven, running into the house and ingoring his rightfully concerned family..... he’s not that guy anymore. He’s back to who he was at the start of the episode: A scared teenager who deeply hates himself and who wants to be better but is ironically shutting out the only people who can help him. And one.. whose committed murder. This was a VERY bold move to make: Steven KILLED SOMEONE. Sure it was  shattering so it got past censors, but in his lowest moment.. steven did the one thing that to someone who treasures all life, is anthemia to him: he killed, did what his mother did before she changed, did what his aunts have done countless times to countless worlds. And it horrifes him, with him desperate to bring jasper back and using everything he has, his powers and his aunts essences, to try and fix his mistake.  And unlike anyone else in his postion he succeeds.. and Jasper, ignoring steven’s attempts to apologize is surprised at first at being shattered, knowing what happened.. befor bowing proudly, FINALLY getting what she was REALLY after: A diamond to serve. And steven can only gaze in horror at what he’d become and at the realization he can’t go back from this and he has no idea what to do now. An utterly grippling, utterly terrifying character piece with some of Zach Callistons best character work in the show’s storied history, with Steven shifting from being drunk on his power to utterly broken at having broken jasper. One of the series finest moments.. only topped by some things the series proper did.. and some more on this list. 

19. Perils of Peekablue (She Ra and the Princesses of Power) 

“They are my people. Which means most of them have sworn revenge against me at some point “  She Ra was easily one of the best shows of the 2010′s. While it started out excellent, and pretty gay, it ended being a masterpiece, and fabulously gay, as is befitting something related to He Man in some way. 

A masterful space opera, She Ra had some great bones in a thrilling love story, great humor, great action and wonderful characters most of them main and supporting going through some form of development. It was a wonderful, magical show and I look forward to Noelle giving Lumberjanes the series treatment, both because the series concept is frankly better built for an ongoing tv series than a monthly comic, and because after this series she has my utmost faith in whatever she does. Also her story about how she both came to terms with her sexuality and met her partner was VERY lovely.  Seriously check it out. Also her partner was the one who co wrote another entry on this list, just a fun fact. Point is this show was awesome.  But as I said part of the show’s strength was it’s character and that shines on this day in the limelight episode covering what’s going with the rebellion since She Ra shot off into space to rescue her best friend. We do get to see the best friends squad breifly, but their simply heading home: With Catra rescued and on the path to being a better person, and firmly in adora’s lap because again this show is wonderously gay and because it annoys her and Catra gets off on that, our heroes are wondering how everyone else is fairing.  So we see that, as with the Rebellion not doing so good against Horde Prime, our heroes seek the solution to their problems with the same solution homer simpson always uses:

Well okay less starting a new life and more getting the help of the mysterious prince peekablue, who I now realize is where the whole pikablue name for merril probbaly came from.. or maybe nerds making things up in the 90′s werne’t that creative. You decide!

So we get the ragtag team of Mermista, Seahawk, Scorpia and Perfuma, as the quartet try to bluff their way to the prince for help. Naturally we get Seahawk being seahawk, i.e. an awesome ham with a voice way older than he looks, Mermista being annoyed by that and being forced to admit she tried out pyromania to see what it’s like, which naturally is the most romantic thing Seahawk’s heard in his whole life.. as well as some VERY charming ship tease between Scorpia and Perfuma as Scorpia enrouages her the two bond and Scorpia finally likes someone who both likes her back and isn’t so obssed with her sorta ex and tied up in her own issues a relationship is impossible. Look I was suprised she found someone else as everyone here, but i’m happys for her. She’s the nicest person on this show and is now dating the second nicest person on this show. It’s nice okay. 2020 didn’t give me much nice, it gave me the emotoinal equilvent of being constnatly stung by hornets.

We also get a lovely musical number from Scorpia about being a spy.. and the revelation Peekablue.. is just Double Trouble. THEIR BACK BABY. It was nice for them to make a comeback for one last apperance and they do provid vallid information.. but prove to not be too useful despite this both due to their habit of being only out for themselves, hence setting up an elaborate cabaret act under the ocean.. and because Mermista got chipped by the crowd, so now our heroes are stuck in a giant coffin surronded by the thing she can manipulate. It’s only through a harrowing sacrifice by scorpia that Perfuma and Seahawk escape but with their sorta partners now brainwahsed to the other side.  To amp up the tension back home.. things are even worse as Spinerlla, whose been brainwashed for several episodes and seriously worrying her wife Netossa... has made her move and with the rest of the rebellion’s leadership gone, chipped everyone but Frosta and King Micah, who dosen’t last long, meaning not only do our two remaning heroes BARELY escape, but the horde now has, between both plot lines, four really heavy hitters, as later episodes would bear out that Spinerlla is basically the red tornado when it comes to wind powers. Point is perils is a fun, breather episode... that then turns into a still fun but also heartbreaking episode as our heroes loose and loose bad and their only hope is in our ohter heroes making it back to htem in one piece. 

18. 100% No Stress Day (Close Enough) “Long story short I owe them three grand”  Close Enough.. has not had the easiest existence. It was greenlit in 2017, used it’s pitch reel as the trailer meaning everyone thought it was MUCH farther along, was meant for TBS but got shelved because the show it was to be paired with, The Cops, was created by sexual predator Louis CK. And since he came up and h’es primarily responsible for this show getting shelved for so long... Louis CK is a bastard. He harassed women, literally and metaphorically waved his dick around to show his superiority, knew he could get away with it, and ACTED contrite when caught and rightfuly punished for it by loosing everything.. then has spent the last year or so TRYING to mount a come back, with the help of Dave Chapelle who I lost ALLLLL respect for in recent years, despite not having apologized or done anything that resembles him having actually learned his fucking lesson or tells me that, could he get away with it, he wouldn’t just do it again. I’m taking time out of this unrelated thing ot make sure he does not get ANY power back, as too often preadatory or abusive assholes get away with this and get right back to doing stuff, like say Doug Walker, who I only bring up to remind people he’s a bad person who enabled worst people and abused a lot of innocent critics, and let htem lovingly euologize a man he knew was a preadator in life without telling any of them about said behavior, which he coudl’ve done without outing the victim to the world against her wishes. Because as another episode we’ll get to next time briliantly put it 

But now i’m done reminding people of assholes, I can get back to what’s really important: The fact this show is a goddamn miracle. Not only is it as good as I hoped, which let’s face it in this year it was just as likely the show would be the video equilvent of scabies, but it got RENEWED. Turns out it’s being delayed.. was a blessing in disguise as it sidestepped being part of a failed animation block, and instead go to be the first adult animated show on HBO Max with tons of promotion. And judging by the future lineup of adult animated programming.. it’s probably going to be the ONLY good one for a while as other offering includes the prince, about life with the royal family, and a show about a 12 year old whose constantlly going thorugh trauma because they apparently did not get the irony when watching moral orel and also skipped the entire third season. And possibly got some brain damage I dunno. Hopefully will lead to much better shows down the line and actually gets a second chance at life, and even if it clocks in at only two seasons, it’s still a damn miracle and I will acknolwedge it. 

So yeah as I said the show is fantastic and was one of my faviorites this year. The show treads some familiar terroitory as it does use the formula from Quintel’s “Regular Show”: Normal problems that spiral into bizzare chaos that still has it’s own effed up internal logic. The thing that honestly makes it BETTER in my opinon, is the passage of time. Quintel is no longer the brighted eyed fresh out of college and menial job guy he was: he’s married with a kid, and that fully informed this project, as instead of being about doofing around in your 20′s, it’s about the pressures of hitting your 30′s: from aging to keeping your relationship fresh to all the perils that come with parenting, to missed opportunities you deeply regret. There’s a lot of good stuff they dig into here, but it never overdies the comedy, simply ads a bit of depth to it. And regular show wasn’t LACKING that by any means, i’m not bashing the show.. i’m just saying Close Enough is starting at the level Regular Show was at at it’s best.. and could easily and handily suprasss it with time it now has. 

And I was first given a good and proper introduction via this episode, as it leaked beforehand due to a french animation festival and I couldn’t help reviewing it, as i’d waited quite some time. But honestly while I like the first episode in the all in the show proper, quilty pleasures.. I feel this is a WAY better first episode and shoudl’ve been swapped with Quilty, as it introduces things even better and lets the whole cast shine, and thus is one of two close enough episodes on this list.  The episode starts with Emily, the stable but stressed and anxious half our our main couple at the doctors office where we get a great barrage of jokes off the bat, from the laundry setting a blaze leading to one of the series best lines

Naturally this has lead to her body constnatly sleep fighting .. while she’s awake, so Josh, her husband and loveable doofus, offers to take care of errands so she dosen’t implode from the stress. This also displays one of the series best assets: While Josh and Emily are an optimistic and impulsive idiot and a stressed out, often voice of reason.. they actually LOVE each other. It’s like a far more healthy of early seasons homer and marge, where BOTH get in over their head but  both clearly love and respect each other, and while Josh CAN be irresponsible.. he still holds down a decent job (Though Emily is more of the breadwinner and her job provides the insurance), is attentive to their daughter candace, and WANTS to be repsonsible. Trust me after countless dom coms where i’ve had to restrain from yelling “GET A DIVORCE” at the screen, it’s nice the tide is turning and Bob’s Burgers has become more of the norm couple wise than the exception.  But yeah so the main group splits up: Josh takes candace and his best friend and local weirdo played by Jason Mantzokus every series needs, and easily my favoirite character, Alex to do errands while Bridgette, Alex’s ex husband, Emily’s best friend and both the bbay of the bunch and the most irresponsible one.. gets her high to help her relax. 

Both plots are really great: The boys and candace run into a ham shortage, a joke that actually plays better in the pandemic age, and stripper clowns because in the series best gag so far, Alex explains via flashback he bet them they couldn’t make a dog, and one did so.. using his dick. 

Just in case you were wondering if JG was enjoying the fact he could use adult humor now, though another part of the series charm is while it freely makes more adult jokes, it dosen’t ever get into gross or dudebro territory. It just means the censors are down and they don’t have to hide beer as soda anymore. They also have to tangle with some hamburgalers who are reselling the meat at rock bottom prices and creating the shortage.. and who deny being hamburgalers despite their tactics being backing up into houses with a large van and stealing hams. OUr heros avoid becmonig meat and naturally end up both in a car chase and then a bet for their lives in a game of Ladder World, josh’s latest game.  Meanwhile Emily blazes it and we get a great getting high montage, as it shows BRidgette’s idea does genuinely help a bit.. until they run into Timothy, the teacher at cadance’s school who I hope gets an increased roll as he’s always a delight and this is his best apperance. Depsite the understandable awkwarndess and paranoia of running into your kids teacher while high, being an open minded guy Timothy offers them wine and then weed and even takes Emily punching him when her trip takes a bad turn, giving her a stern but fair “bitch use your words!” before the next seen has him helping her through her issues with some solid advice, allowing her to arrive in home just in time to save her husband and the cave goblin who lives in her house from clown strippers and meat gangsters.. which sounds like one hell of a gay porno. All in all a solid, always hilarous, always charming ep that shows the series off at it’s best. 

17. How Santa Stole Christmas! (Ducktales)

“No, no.. Christmas is a SAD story?” 

This is my third and hopefully FINAL time talking about this one, though given it has a high chance of showing up on the series best of list, probably not. Not that I mind, this is a VERY good episode, I just don’t have anytihing new left to say. It’s a heartwarming, fresh, engaging christmas special that uses the characters perfectly and for once actually strips down the cast effectively instead of making you wonder where everyone else is, while still giving everyone an apperance. It also has Webby giving Lena (And Violet) an adorable cheek smooch when delivering her parents and I will never not find that fucking precious. Plus it’s gay as hell with plenty of gay subtext between Scrooge and Santa, a sentence I never thought i’d say but i’m so glad i’ts my job to get to type things like that, and said kiss so that helps. But even besides that it’s just REALLY damn good. Again i’m leaving this short both because i’ve talked about this twice now, once when it came out as I do regularly for ducktales and again for my best christmas specials list, but it’s really that good and made it damn high on my bet christmas specials list and is only so low here.. because despite being a terrible year in every other respect we got some REALLY good episodes this year. So yeah this one’s a classic, I love it but i’m tired of talking about it till at least next december. Moving on. 

16. Finale (E-Turtle Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Shreddy or Not,  Anatawa Hitorijanai, and Rise) Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles “Oh and Blue your leader now”  As I mentioned in the intro. Rise of the TMNT was unjustly canceled this year and even worse got it’s season order chopped in half and was given just weeks to throw together a finale. So it’s remakrable that not only was the season pretty damn good, having the series usual problems of sometimes overdipping into the boys stupidity hence the episode where everyone but Raph keeps eating poison, but also had both great character arcs in Baron Draxum’s reformation and Splinter getting more and more fleshed out and more screne time, and great laughs. Seriously Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle, aka that episode where our heroes end up trapped in an 80′s dress up montage, BARELY didn’t make the list. 

And as a longtime fan of the franchise I couldn’t be happier this fresh take, which I was aprhensive about at first because it looked like yet another dumbed down teen titans go ripoff, and given it was dumb to begin with... but instead was a fun action comedy with a lot of really unique and intresting ideas. And despite the rush to finish.. they delivered one hell of a finale and on the high chance season 3 dosen’t happen... it’s a hell of a note to go out on.  First things first: yes i’m counting multi parters as one episode. Not more seralized shows like SU Future or Infinity Train, where events can flow in and out, but stories that are clearly one big story, in pieces like the old days. Since hour long episodes of shows are fair game, I felt it only fair that multi parters around the same length as an hourlong special be given the same treatment. Not that any hourlongs made it this year, sorry fans of Obsidian and “Let’s Get Dangerous”, though both are throughly EXCELLENT episodes this was just a tight list. 

Okay good. So yeah the finale, split over four episodes, is an epic: taking plot threads from all season and series and weaving them into a well paced, emotoinal, finale. Like previous more serious episode the comedy’s downplayed.. but it doesen’t feel like an entirley diffrent show and works well, and the always great fluid animation was kicked up to 11 for this one.  So to make a long story short: in this series shredder is a demonic set of armor, but came back wrong at the end of last season when the food clan revivied him, so while the clan now has him back, they can’t really use him. And current head Foot Recurit, a spunky foot recruit whose failed to rank up despite being tough and ambitious and worthy of it, is at a loss how to reviive her master.  The turltes, naturally, end up accidently blundering into the solution as they head into Splinter’s head to find the info to beat Shredder. The show gives splinter easily one of , if not the best, backstories he’s ever had: While at the start the character was highly annoying, being a lazy asshole who didn’t train the boys and did nothing.. the show eventually give us valid reasons WHY he’s like this: he didn’t like being turned into a rat by big bad of season 1 Baron Draxum and thus has depresion over that, had quit fighting since he’d been forced to be a cage fighter by his ex for a while,  his ex being a giant spider just in case you thought this would be remotely normal an forgot what show we were talking about and genrally just had no horse in the tight training he usually does in most continuties. 

This episode adds another, heartbreaking lair: We find out back when he was Hamato Yoshi, Splinter’s mom left to ward off shredder when he was a boy.. and thus never came back and presumibly died. Understandably he had no time for the clan at that point, constantly defying his grandfather.. and why should he have time for them? They took his mom away for a thankless duty sacrificing herself to stop something he had no way of knowing was real, another reason he never trained the boys. And his grandfather rather than be AT all apologetic clearly, via his actions, thought of this as some great honor and was baffled why Yoshi would have no intrest in repeating his mother’s actions or have any sense of honor, duty or even love for a man who as far as he could tell, threw his mom to the wolves and had no regrets about it. So we see Yoshi as both a rebellious teen and as a movie star throwing out his grandpa.. we see those in reverse of course, but the later scenes give context to those showing why Yoshi was so rude.. because he lost his mom and it still hurts him.  HOwever helping her frees the shredder.. but also Karai who bizarely, in this continuity is not only an aincent ancestor of theres but a firm ally instead of either a deadly enemy or a fremeny of sorts. Or Splinter’s dang daughter, one of 2012′s best plot elements.. that was then wasted by turning her into a snek for a while because that show really went off the rails. So it quickly turns from a heartwarming and awkard family reunion.. to our heroes and karai barely escaping with their lives as shredder demolishes the lair, and Draxum, now a good guy after a season’s worth of wonderful chracter development, and Splinter stay behind, with Draxum cleverly bluffing and pretending ot be evil again.. only to try and take out shredder. 

Meanwhile we get this series take on “the turtles going to teh woods to retreat” as Raph beats himself up for being a bad leader and our heroes learn to tap into their hamato nimpo.. which basically means super magic ninja powers which allows them to bring back their classic weapons and enhances their magic, as it was never in teh weapons but in them all along. Also April gets Karai in her, phrasing, and a glowing boost to her bat.  The result.. is one of the best fights of both the year and the franchise PERIOD, which is what got me to catch up to see the finale because I saw a fan video synching it up to “Spin and Burst”.. and while not a naruto fan.. that song is fucking awesome and that video showed off an utterly marvelous fight. See for yourself

Seriously I wasn’t kidding. I’ve been a fan of this franchise since 2003. This is one of the best sequences in it’s history with or without the added soundtrack: The fighting is fast, frentic, beautfully animated and cool to watch and perfectly combines the series humor, with our heroes giving out quips and callbacks at the right times, with it’s fast paced and wonderous action. It also shows how far our heroes have come: while PART of it is them having super mystic powers unlocked.. they both had to work to reach those powers, and spirtually rather than phsycially,in the third part, but each power is merly an upgraded versoin of their old weapon powers, ablities they’ve spent the entire series mastering, paticuarlly leo who went from BARELY being able to work his portals to using teleport spam here. While they did pull a power BOOST out of their ass, it would’ve meant nothing had they not been anymore skileld than when they started and it makes the fight feel rewarding and impactful. And it ends with the hamot clan as a whole, with new ally foot recurit aka cassandra jones ina great last minute reveal that they CLEARLY didn’t have time to build up better, and smoke that bitch. Also Leo’s leader now bye. It’s just a damn good finale and I dind’t even get into all the great character stuff, including the great payoff of Casey’s face turn after seeing just how much of a monster the man she always wanted to serve is, and how he’s hurting Splinter, who ACTUALLY cares about her well being despite being an enemy. It’s just good stuff that fits the franchise like a glove but iwth the series own unique stamp on it. Nuff said. 

15. Toadcatcher (Amphibia)  “Your not upset because you lost the fight, your upset because you lost your friend! Your upset that Anne stood up to you and things between you will never be the same again.”  Amphibia was one of the first shows I covered reguarlly and along with Ducktales one of the most popular.. so yeah it’s weird it not only is low on the list, but this is the only represtintive. But this was a high volume year for quality and while the show had other standout episodes like gravity falls tribute “Wax Museum”, Marcy’s introduction “Marcy at the Gates” and noir patische “Little Frogtown”, as this list already shows it was a really tight race. It dosen’t help that while Season 2 isn’t terrible.. it’s a bit more uneven, and unlike season 1 it’s weaker stretches of episodes weren’t as easily covered, as instead of airing every weekday, it was a weekly release. Which I prefer, as it means they aren’t being dumped out en masse and are given room to breathe and the passage of time feels more warranted when it’s spread out over a few months intead of a few weeks. It just meant the weaker episodes stood out more and drained on me more.. but it also meant the stronger ones were all the more a breath of fresh air. And nowhere was this more apparent as teh worst episode of the season, and series, thus far, Quarallers Pass.. was paired with Toadcatcher, an utterly marvelous episode and followup to ironically the series best so far, Reunion. 

This episode catches us up with Sasha, Anne’s former best friend who tried to kill her in a sword fight, one where the entirety of wartwood including her adopted grandpa was at sake and Sasha knew this and did not care. She then followed it up by letting go when Anne was depseratley holding on, with the help of her new family, to save Sashsa’s life.. and Sasha let go. I discussed the full implications in the review so I will avoid trigggering anyone, and I mean tha tin the medical sense anyone using it ironiclaly or to mock people using it as it’s intended can get fucked, but she clearly didn’t intend to make it, but Grime saved her and spirted her off.  So we catch up with both licking their wounds from the ordeal: Sasha has decided to take the Jasper route of horrible coping mechanisms and is training constnatly, readily kiling dolls of the plantars but still unable to truly hurt Anne, burying her feelings over her guilt and her best friend rightfully turning on her and then trying to save her anyway despite Sasha trying to gut her. Grime.. is binging on the wonderfully terrible teen soap Supscion Island, coming back this january on the cw, that was intorduced last season and generally not carring the king has his best men, women and nonbinary folks out for his head. 

So both issues come to a head as General Yuaan, scourge of the Sand Wars, defeater of Ragnar the Wretched, and the youngest newt to ever achieve the rank of general in the great Newtopian Army, and she’ll never miss a chance to say that, has come for Grime whose in no condition and has no will to fight back. He also finally confronts Sasha when she snaps at him for it, pointing out she’s simply burying the fact that she lost Anne, things won’t be the same, and she won’t deal with it.  The episode adds real depth to grime, going from an intresting but semeingly just evil overlord.. to someone who worked his way out of a fighting pit to be given a thankfless if cushy job by the same people who threw him in in the first place, someone who to my shock at the time.. CARES about his protege. While allowing Sasha in was simply to their mutual advantage at first.. he’s grown to genuinely care about her as his friend and offers to let Yuaan have him so she can be free. but Sasha refuses. Despite her issues.. she CARES about the old toad and together, and using Yaan’s ham against her, they beat her, and decide to rebuild their army... after Grime finishes his soaps of course. Can.. relate. A thorughly good, throughly emotinally episode that dosen’t lack the series humor but does have a depth and rhthym to it that the series has at i’ts best. 

14. Quack Pack! (Ducktales)  Jesus I was so tired when making this I nearly forgot an entry. And shame on me as this was one of the best episodes of an already amazing Season. Season 3 is easily ducktales best and i’ve been proud to cover it. It’s been my most popular feature and while not every episodes been GREAT, only one’s really not been very good, and none have been out and out bad. While it may be the end of the shows run and not without problems, they still have trouble ballancing the adults at times if not nearly as bad as before, to the point Launchpad just sorta vanishes after Let’s Get Dangerous outside of the Christmas Specail that takes place before the season anyway, and Louie is often written VERY badly.. but i’ve talked about these things all season in my reviews.

Point is those faults are overwhelmed by the strengths; The character ballance is better, several side characters have gotten tons of payoff to their arcs and more development, and the main plot is easily the best in the series history: By having essentially one main plot with two focuses, before they merge at the halfway marker, it allows the season to be far more streamlined after the really messy way season 2′s plots were handled. It just shows the show at it’s best and has produced amazing episode after amazing episode and it was really hard to widdle it down to the ones that got selected here and even then one got left out. 

But one boost I haven’t mentioned is their wilingness to take risk. While past seasons had flashback episodes and what not this one, in hindsight, has some of the more risky episodes of the series, ones you really COULDN’T do in seasons 1 and 2: a whole episode flashback to the twins, basically taking our present day kids out for the whole season, an hour long special focusing on what, to fans not familiar with darkwing duck, is simply a very engaging side character and his new sidekick.. and launchpad (The ducks aren’t OUT of the special, but they aren’t the focus and aren’t around for most of the climax). An episode with really dark emotional moments.. which isn’t unsuaul for a disney show, see next time, but for one so close to their chest it was a lot. They were settled in enough to take plenty of risks and it’s paid off. It’s not to community levels of experimentation, but it’s still nice, intresting breaks from the usual adventures. 

And one of the best and boldest of these was Quack Pack. Taking our heroes and plopping them into a TGIF sitcom. Of which this plot not only happened TWICE this year, three times if you count the entirety of beef house, which I do so let’s call it three, but both cartoon examples are on this list. But both tackle it in diffrent and intresting ways so both got on here.  IN this case.. during a stock plot about a family photo, complete with Donald having his Don Cheadle voice back, we get some great parodies of convetions of les.s. good sitcomes nad even some of the greats: there’s the constnat catcphrases (ranging from a sticomy version of Della’s “On the moon”, to Beakly’s “I’m not a spy.. which sh’es understandably inscnesed to find out is her catchphrase) ,and even the wacky neighbor with our lord and savior Goofy showing up in the roll, as a nice nod to the more sitcom side of the Disney Afternoon. We just get a lot of good gags.. until Huey becomes aware, starting to realize things are off, with his guidebook being empty and things just not adding up. We even get a great bit of him being forced to do a disney channel/that 70′s show dance transtion only to react with exesntial horror.  Naturally, given their lives,a  genie did it, Gene, played by Jaleel White in a pefect bit of casting. Having been imprisoned in his lamp since the 90′s. Gene’s a bit behind on how sticoms work, but was just granting a wish, Donald’s wish, which the family figures out by trigggiring a flashback, Goofy VERY MUCH included. where we find out it was, unsuprisngly Donald’s fault.. though in his defense, and in the best line of the episode, when confronted about wishing for a normal life “I wish for that 30 times a day. How was I supposed to know a lamp was under me this time?”

And we find out why and it’s heartbreaking: Donald just wants a normal family, where everyone’s safe and, most tellningly “No one gets lost.”. It’s the climax of a series long HATRED of going on these adventures. For everyone else it’s fun, thriling, good stuff.. to him.. it’s not only a reminder of what cost him 10 years with his sister and his adopted sons their mom for that time, but a reminder of a lot of pain and humilation. To him he just wants the normal life he used to have back, despite that not being an option and his kids to be safe and his sister not to leave again. Granted his refusal to undo the wish is selfish.. but i’ts understandable. And while the rest of them try to break the wish, and end up fighting the horrifying audience it’s GOOFY who gets donald to see all families are diffrent and that there is no normal: just what you make and enjoy. It makes donald realize that as hectic as his life is.. it’s his life, his family.. and maybe. it’s not so bad. After years of denying how much he used to love adventuering.. he realizes part of him stilld oes and no amount of turning against it will fix what he lost... he just has to enjoy NOW. It’s good solid character development for my favioriote member of the cast, and overall a fun, genre spoofing episode that pokes fun at the genre but reallyg ets how it works. 

13. Growing Pains (Steven Universe Future)

“ What do I do? How do I move on from all the stuff I've been through? How do I live life if it always feels like I'm about to die?! “ So yeah big recap of steven’s emotional well being to get into future earlier, but rewinding a bit, this one takes place with our hero at a low point. Not “oh god I comitted murder what am I now oh god” low as we got to earlier and the series itself wold get to later, these lists make time warped and space bendeble, but still pretty damn bad.  As mentioned before Steven tried proposing to connie, not helped by Ruby and Sapphire both being fully on board, as both are hopeless romantics seprate but when combined as a Garnet their shared braincell can get working properly and has settings other than “emotoinal pain, peppy (ruby), a bit distant but kind (Sapphire) and horny”. While it was as beautiful a propsal as you’d expect from Steven.. Connie gently rejected it since you know, he also wanted to be permafused and their not even legal marrying age left. He’s 17.. despite what this episode claims. She’s 15 or 16. They aren’t ready and she knew it not even ruling it out entirely, just saying “not now”.  But as this episode bears out.. Steven really isn’t an emotinal state where he could properly process that way and after shooing her away, even though she WANTED to talk it over and genuiely make sure he was okay as she damn well knew this wasn’t easy on him, but also knew it’d probably be bad to press him while he was clearly in pain. So like everyone else she made the mistake of leaving.  So Steven’s binging on junk food, and bemoaning the fact that even dogcopter is getting married.. also Dogcopter is gay. Given the show he’s a fictional character in, you THINK i’d of been less suprised but you’d be wrong. Point is steven isn’t dealing well and is going pink and with the gems gone for the weekend, and Greg unavaliable due to being busy as a manager, Steven is getting worse and his body is starting to warp. Thanfkully connie comes to check up on him and insits he see a doctor.. and since her mother’s a doctor and thankfully had a cancelation. Unthankfully it turns out, to Prianka’s understandable frustration.. Steven’s never been to a doctor. Which does make sense, Greg taking him in might’ve alreted authorties to his lack of schooling or his injuries from age 13 onward, plus he had no idea of knowing how his body would react to tests. That being said given by this point in the series Gems are well accepted and known around town and everyone loves and adores steven, Greg had no real excuse by this age especially after the second gem war.  And that’s proven by the fact it turns out steven’s body has tons of internal scars which, due to him turning out to have a wolverine style healing factor, mean h’es alive and without brain damage, but still has plenty of internal scars. It’s a godo metaphor for his mental trauma: he came out of his various happenings ALIVE.. but not mentally okay and with PLENTY of ptsd. When Prianka asks him to list his traumas.. he dosen’t even get past season 1 before she’s understandably horrified, though she’s figured out exactly what’s causing his pink mode: as mentioned before his contstant life of danger and having the threat of a fight at any moment over his head for 2 solid years, maybe 3 given the third light game shows he still had a lot of work to do before the movie and future, and honestly still does at times during both, mean his flight or fight response has been shot so the adrenline charged pink form, meant to protect him from danger.. is triggering for EMOTIONAL pain and suffering. 

Steven dosen’t take it well and keeps enlarging when pressed.. and accidently spills the beans about the proposal... and understandably, even if she was FULLY in the right can’t be around Connie: while she had every right to reject him, it dosen’t mean it hurts any less. Sometimes even when you do the absolute right thing.. it can still hurt to be on the receiving end of that. But Connie is still Connie, aka the most emotinally  stable and mature person in the main cast very much including the sentient space rocks who are centuries older than her, so she called Greg who naturally dropped everything because his son needed him. It shows the genuine conflict, one, again that I’ve grappled with: Steven is so obssed with not boterhing those he loves, he fails to see they’ll help him when he needs it without a second thought. So Greg thankfully calms him down and taks over the failed proposal with no judgement or anything just support. Sadly things go downhill from here but it’s a good episode that turns the entire series on it’s head with some damn good character work. 

12. Annhilation of Joy (The Midnight Gospel) 

“Again? How Many times is this guy gonna die?” “Until he learns”  The Midnight Gospel was a plesant suprise. Penndelton Ward’s return to animation after leaving Adventure Time, the show is a collberation between him and podcaster Duncan Trussel. It was a suprise both in how quickly it came together, and in how it’s real nature wasn’t properly expressed in the trailers: while the series does tell us the trippy adventures of Clancy, a 40 something “Spacecaster” who uses an illegal simulator to visit worlds to interview various people.. said interviews are expercts from Trusseul’s own podcast, the Duncan Trussel Family Hour, something this series has badly made me want to listen to. As such while dealing with zombie apocalypses, a quest to avenge a dead lover, being processed as meat and meeting death herself while looking for his hose, Clancy interviews his subjects, including Death herself, and talks on various subjects related to medation and spirutality, throughly fascenating interviews greatly woven into trippy visuals. Hopefully the show will be back for round 2 at some point as both Ward and Trussel are game, but for now the first season stands on it’s own as a throughly trippy, throughly wonderful blend of Trussel’s words and insight and Ward’s boundless imagination.  And the best of these, narrowly beating out the final epsiode which uses an interview with Truseel’s late mother to inform clancy’s own actions, as Clancy’s Mom is dying from cancer same as Trussels tragically did. But I like this one slightly better due to it’s great blend of the subject with the plot. Once again Clancy is ignoring his pain, and his sister’s calls, by diving into the space vagina of his simulator, taking a weird form, and easily my faviorite of his shapeshifted forms of the season: a living rainbow that wouldn’t be out of palce in a pbs kids show, complete with the fact he makes musuical chimes when touched not unlike a children’s toy and has chosen this form to enter the simulator’s jail.  It’s there he gets engagled, literally, with Bob and Jason. Bob is an angry, upset prisoner who chewed his own tounge out years ago, and Jason is his soul bird, a represntation of his pain bound to him by blue rope that Clancy got tangled in. So Clancy is taken along for the ride with them as every time Bob dies, the celestial beings in charge of the prison put him through weird emtional torment, pluck out his heard and weigh it against  a feather plucked from jason. 

Thus while Clancy and Jason have a spirited conversation about Buddishm and about not treaing spirutality like a game with levels and having to earn progress but as an emotinal journey, Bob goes through a buddishm inspried journey of his own, mixed with a bit of edge of tommorow. He dies, gets tourtured then resets.. but slowly learns to empathize, to let go of his anger and violence and help those around him. It’s an utterly mesmering journey to watch this angry green big headed man go from a violet convict who will gladly shoot and stab.. to a pacfisit eager to help those around him. And it’s thorughly convincing and backed wonderfully by the interview and easily a sign of what this weird and unconveintonal series can do at all cyllnders. Seriously Netflix you’ve been on a loosing streak decisionmaking wise. Make. More. Of. This. 

11. Save the Cat (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power) "C'mon Catra. You're not done. Not yet..."

God that image is unsettling. Anywho back to She-Ra, and somehow this is the second time i’ve had to rewind the progress of a season by about an episoide. Weird. Point is saved the cat is one of the most tightly packed and thrilling episodes of the series.. and the crux of Catra’s character arc.  Before this Catra had hit her lowest point, having lost ..j well everything. She pushed everyone from adora, to the nonambigiously a couple trio, to her own best friends away through her shitty behavior and inferoirty complex and somenoe she THOUGHT was her friend.. turned on her for money. Oh and as an added stomp on the tail all that betryal, all the blood spilled in her name.. was for nothing. Horde Prime made her irrelvant: she couldnt’ manipualte him because a combination of a god complex and an army of loyal drones meant he had nothing to hide and eyes everywhere. She had nothing. Eveyrthing she did every sacrifice she made every worse and worse turn she made a s a person... amounted to NOTHING.  So it was at this point she and glimmer, despite you know killing Glimmer’s mother, were forced to work together.. and Catra sacrificed herself both to get Glimmer safe and because for once.. she wanted to do something right. Her self loathing, some of it warranted, a lot of it already there from an abusive childhood, left her with one option: sacrifice herself and HOPE, something good can come of it, Apologize to Adora, hte one person she ever loved and hope she can at least surivive this.  Naturally, Adora having seen her friend/love of her life has not only REALIZED what she become, but sacrifice herself.. isn’t having this, and after an episode of repairs both on the ship and emotinally, our heroes are naturally, despite any personal hangups with her ready to save Catra. Naturally this hits snags. On Bow and Entrapta’s end, they accidently free a horde clone she mistakes for hordak and, having no other real option and with the guy being useful, Wrong Hordak is born! I love me some Wrong Hordak. What a guy, makes you cry, und I did. 

The main issue though is Adora let herslef be captured.. only to find Horde Prime is a sadstic bastard and has not only chipped Catra, but is using her newfound peace of mind to play with adora’s head, using Catra’s heartbreak from the past to manipulate Adora in the present.. and force them to fight because hey he’s a sadistic jackass with a god complex. They make their own fun.  But Adora gets through to her .. only for Prime to decide fuck it and try killing her with Adora BARELY saving her with her power, and Catra, as she fades, wondering why Adora even bothered. And the why is simple.. as a wise fictional version of a wise president once said “Dying is easy young man, living is harder”. Not the last time that quote will be relevant in this top 20 list, but the point, and it was delebrate on Noelle Stevenon’s part, was to subvert this kind of thing> The bad guy gets redemption but then dies seconds later. Instead.. Catra has to LIVE with what she did and make up for it, become a better person and work for redepmtion, instead of just getting to end in some big blaze of glory. But at the same time.. it’s the better route. The harder one sure.. but she gets to have a life and to undo the damage and maybe for once.. actually live instead of just trying to surivive. IT was the right call in a series full of them. 

But yeah the day is saved, our heroes have two new roomates and Catra weakly greats Adora.. but with genuine warmth for the first time in .. years I guess? I don’t know this series time span. Point is the healing and the ship tease for our finale can begin and this episode is a tense, well put together masterwork. The pacing really is what put it up this far, as it really ratchets up the tension, and being the last season, meant there was no guarantee anyone, including catra, was going to make it. Excellent stuff all around. 

So that’s where we leave off for now. i’ll be PUTTING PART 2 HERE WITH A LINK. once i’ts finished For now watch this space and..