#also I don’t like getting close to fatherly type men

[yourbleedingh3art]

Emailed my former philosophy/logician professor and was like I’m working on a personal project I want urbacademicninput LITERALLY sent that email in a half delusional state where I thought I was doing gods work But I’m like ok what I’m doing is important but I’m like what if my “project” is just Mania induced scribbles and I’m bout to show up tmrw like So here’s my theorem on the innate goodness of humanity ISNT it awesome and he’s gonna look at me like oh Please seek mental help . Like I feel liek im either absolutelt fucking off my rocker or I’m on to something but now I don’t know anymore cuz I let that self doubt creep in and now my feelings are unclear even to myself.. either way I am just gonna stick to the plan my crazy self had when I sent that email and I might just level w my teacher like. Honestly im in a ptsd related spiral right now and it’s hard for me to tell if my actions are logical whatsoever but also im scared because if you don’t know what you are and you admit that to somebody they’re gonna tell u what u are. I just don’t like how people hear “mental health issues” and run with it and this type of attitude leads me to tjink professionalism equals Lying about the truth of the emotional state ur experiencing . Belief leads to me pushing a lot of stuff down and when I begin to doubt myself all those feelings I’ve pushed down start to bubble up too. That made me scared as well , I’ll be too emotional to properly explain myself when he has questions for me, even though some ambitious part of me believes in the work I’m doing , believes in it enough to answer any questions about it, to author that answer with confidence and belief in myself. I just don’t want him to be like you’re absolutely crazy I can’t possibly help you prove your theorem on a philosophical or logical level you have shown me the ramblings of a psychotic hermit please leave. I guess that would be the worst case scenario. Or if he somehow gets me to admit I have homicidal thoughts snd then theh send for the stretchers and the loony bin

[thebeautyoffanfics]

Could I ,, possibly get some platonic headcanons of a father figure Tsuchigomori with a supernatural reader coming out to him as lesbian :praying emoji: take ur time <3

(platonic) tsuchigomori and gn!reader

a/n: of course! we love fatherly Tsuchigomori <3 we love Tsuchigomori in general <333 anyway, thank you so much for requesting!! I hope you enjoy!!!!

warnings: none <3

word count: 903

Tsuchigomori, though he’s sometimes a bit “coldhearted” (if that’s the best way to put it?), he’s definitely supportive of you no matter what.

Who cares if you’re his blood or not. You’re basically his kid- he may not say it to anyone’s face, but it’s an understood. Heck, should you slip and call him dad, he responds, no hesitation.

So, when you finally make that realization, you know he’d want you to be honest with him. Tsuchigomori never wants you to feel judged or less-than for any reason. He does his best to show that to you- he probably even treats you better than he does anyone else. When asked why, he’ll say it’s because (Y/N) is less of a pain than the others.

Is that true? Who knows-

Either way, when you sit down with him, your hands wringing each other slightly nervously, he’s instantly in “dad mode” as Hanako once called it. Tsuchigomori was ready to hear any news, almost worried that it was bad news.

“Put shortly, I’m, uh- I’m a lesbian. I'm attracted to girls, and that’s… it.”

His nervousness was alleviated instantly, and- if you looked closely- you would have seen the tension leave his shoulders. While he was sure you were nervous, and had probably troubled yourself over it for a while, he was still proud of you.

And, honestly? He had slight suspicions. Even if you never let it slip before, he’s been around kids for a looong time. He’s rather good at understanding body language, or picking up on things without them being said directly. Sure, in his human form, he takes on a more airheaded, lighthearted character- but he’s still the same perceptive supernatural.

“Alright,” He spoke, nodding, “that’s fine. My view on you won’t change, no matter your sexuality- and no one else’s should either. Thanks for telling me. I’m proud.”

Tsuchigomori didn’t usually say something even that soft to your face- it was his way of showing you his full support. Even though he wanted it to be understood no matter what, he’d tell you it just in case there was any doubt in your mind.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in relief. “Ahh, I should have known I was worried for nothing-” You spoke, before laughing lightly. Tsuchigomori smiled at that, happy that you trusted his support. It was a bonafide Proud Dad Moment.

As any father should do for their child, he’ll definitely watch out for you. He’s not fully caught up in the things going on in the world, but he does know some things. Even if there was growing support for the community, there were still those out there who (unfortunately) judged them. He was going to keep his eye open for any negative reactions from others- and, should any one even give you a bad look- he’d be on their case. Maybe not saying anything directly, but a glare from the usually fairly lighthearted teacher was a sign enough for most to shut up.

Also as most fathers do for their children, once you do start dating, he keeps an extra eye open. Now he’s gotta fight anyone who gives you a negative reaction, and any girl who hurts your heart. Well- at least most girls he met were kind. Boys, in his knowledge from teaching high school boys (the worst kind, dare I say), were a cause for more concern. But, he wouldn’t let himself hold too much of a bias. People in general could be mean, and he wasn’t about to let his child have their heart broken.

He did trust your judgement, of course. He just didn’t trust others <3

To be completely honest, I don’t think it’s outlandish to headcanon Tsuchigomori as gay. In fact, you tried to bring it up casually in conversation.

“So… like…… I like women.”

“I’m aware.”

“What kind of people do you like?”

“None. Personally, I’m not very interested in relationships like that. Good for those who are, but it’s not really my focus nor goal in life.”

You nodded, understanding where he was coming from. Still, it was a relatively vague answer, so you pushed a bit further. Maybe being blunt would work?

“Do you know what your sexuality is? Or maybe you’ve never really thought about it-?”

“If you’re trying to gauge whether I like women or men, both or everything in between, then I’ll be honest. I’ve got no idea, as I’m not particularly interested. I’m sure if I fell in love, you’d find out one way or another, so don’t worry yourself about it.”

Ahh, unfortunately, that’s all the answer you’ll get from him about it. Though, like he said, should he start dating you’d be aware. Just as he’s going to make sure he’s aware when you start dating. Not overwhelmingly so, and he won’t be rude if you don’t tell him- he knows he isn’t your biological father, but he still considers you his child.

On a similar note, he won’t mind if you date a human or fellow supernatural- but he will feel a bit more worried if you fall in love with a human. For both sides, he knows it wouldn’t be easy. In fact, it’s a reason he (unadmittedly) worries for Hanako currently. Still, he’ll be supportive of you, no matter what type of partner you pursue. As long as it’s with a nice lady, he’s happy for you.

[weallpartyatybcpatricksfuneral]

I'll be making this into a long fic, but for now I chose to keep it short. Hermitcraft x Dream SMP crossover

Title: button

Grian sat down at the oak wood table, brow furrowed. Another day, another failed attempt to reconnect to Hermitcraft. The strange glitch that had caused the border to fall in the first place must have been repaired, for the world border was back up and running. His communicator didn’t work outside of his home server, and Phil’s crows (who insisted on following the man everywhere, and who Phil had put up to the task of flying between the severs, trying to gather intel on the border glitch and if people were trying to find him) haven’t delivered any news. 

    The builder glanced out the window as the sun set over the horizon. Past that was Hermitcraft. His home. What was Mumbo doing? Scar? Iskall? Xisuma? How was the war progressing without him? Did anyone notice his absence? No, Grian, don’t get sad. Happy thoughts only...Happy thoughts. 

    “Grain!” 

    Torn away from his thoughts, Grian looked up to see Philza, his dark grey wings fluffed up in distress. “Wil’s sent a letter.” The avian said, holding up a piece of paper. 

    “Well, that’s good!” Phil had been under extreme stress these past couple of days since Wilbur hadn’t sent a letter in weeks and the past few he had sent were...concerning, to say the least. “What’s it say?” 

    Another letter should have been a relief, but from the look on Phil’s face, Grian concluded that this letter was everything except relief.

    “It’s just a date, time, and coordinates. November 16th, noon, with a set of coords in L’Manberg…” Phil’s voice trailed off as his dark emerald eyes scanned the page, over and over, as if he were looking for more writing than just a simple date. 

    “That’s tomorrow, innit?” Grian questioned, trying to distract the man from his distress. That’s how Grian ignored his. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. “I mean, you’ll be able to see your sons, check up on Wil?” 

    “Something doesn’t feel right about this, Grain.” Even after all this time together, Phil still called him Grain. Grian stifled a laugh, as it wasn’t the appropriate time to giggle. “His last few letters concerned me. He mentioned something in his last one about 11 and a half stacks of TNT.” Phil looked Grian dead in the eye and whispered, “Grain, I think Wilbur is going to blow L’Manberg!” 

    “But why?” Grian attempted to rationalize with the distraught Phil, who was now pacing across the room making stressed-out bird noises. “He won the election, shouldn’t he be content with that?” This type of stuff never happened on Hermitcraft. There were never serious talks of blowing up anyone’s builds, much less an entire country! The only time TNT is used is in pranks, and they always helped clean up after. 

    “You clearly don’t know Wilbur...He’s a force of chaos, I’ll tell you that. A creative little shit who always comes up with new ways to get what he wants. If he wants L’Manberg gone, then he’ll go to crazy lengths to achieve that goal.”

    Silence fell. 

    “We need to get to L’Manberg. Now. It’s about a day’s flight from here, and we need to leave now if we want to get there as fast as fucking possible.” Phil tucked the letter into the pocket of his dark green kimono and flexed his wings. Unlike Grian, who used the sleek and slim elytra to fly about, Philza had a pair of actual feathery wings. Upon arrival, Phil explained that he was a bird hybrid, also known as an avian. He had feathers on the sides of his face and neck with elfish ears. Back on Hermitcraft, every member of the server was human. 

Grian and Phil started out on their journey north, towards the world border of Dream SMP. The sun had risen, and the world border was in sight. Phil stated that Dream, the apparent Admin of the server, had agreed to let up the border for a few seconds to let Phil and Grian inside. Phil took a rest on a tree, breathing heavily after hours of non-stop flight.  

“You alright, Big P?” If Phil could nickname him Grain, Grian would nickname him as well. A smile twinged across Phil’s face. 

“Ahh...You sound so much like my youngest, Tommy. He says that to people too. You remind me of him so much. Right down to your red shirt and the aura of pure, unbridled chaos you emit.” 

Both men laughed. Grian really enjoyed Phil’s laugh, and despite how giggly and giddy the avian usually was, it had been a few days since he had last heard him laugh. Wilbur’s lack of letters had really spooked him. 

“Will you stay?” 

“Hmm?” 

“In L’Manberg. I mean, it’s closer to your sons.” 

Phil shrugged and drank a potion of strength, and stood. 

“I might, depending on what happens. If my theory is correct, and Wilbur is going to blow the place up, then I’ll probably stay. Just to help him out and help clean up y’know? Maybe I’ll be able to convince him to come home. Before you got here, I was...really lonely.” 

“Well, you won’t be lonely anymore! Since I can’t return home yet, I’ll be your friend so you don’t have to be lonely!” 

“Thanks, Grain.” 

“You’re welcome, Big P!” 

The two rose and started to fly towards the world border. Maybe Grian could make a new home on Dream SMP. The builder already started making plans for an epic build, having a vague idea in his head. However, he would have to inspect the landscapes available to see what his block palette would be and what style his build would be. Grian thought of his mansion back home and wanted to build something similar to remember it. 

“Oi! Grain! You there mate?” 

Grian shook his head as he was, again, dragged from his daydreams by Phil. They had arrived at the world border. “I’ve sent word to Dream, he should be letting us in soon.” 

“Alrighty! What kind of base do you want to build if you stay?”

    Phil just shrugged. “Eh. Don’t know just yet. Don’t want to start anything too ambitious, like a Hardcore project.” 

Grian kept forgetting that this man held the world record for the longest Hardcore run. Phil was only 5”4 and didn’t look that intimidating. He looked loving and fatherly, and Grian considered Phil to be like a father to him. But the man was a dedicated Hardcore player, and could easily take Grian down in a fight. It scared him, sometimes, about how little he actually knew about Phil. 

“Alright, mate, let’s go.” The blue striped border had been removed by the mysterious admin, and the two flew into Dream SMP. Grian felt a buzz from his communicator and pulled it from his pocket. 

<Grian joined the game>  

<Ph1LzA joined the game> 

Unlike in Hermitcraft, when a member joins the server (especially a new member), the entire chat would be flooded with ‘hello!’ messages. However, on the Dream SMP, there were one or two directed at Phil. How peculiar. Phil went silent as they flew over the woods and forest. In the distance, Grian could see what appeared to be a city. That must be L’Manberg. It wasn’t as big or as grand as some builds on Hermitcraft, heck his own base would have taken up over half of the area if he lived there. On a tall pole lay what Grian assumed was the flag of L’Manberg, inky black, with a fiery red arch and X. Interesting design. Phil didn’t go into the city, however, he flew towards the coordinates that Wilbur had written in his letter, his brow furrowed. Fireworks crackled and popped throughout L’Manberg. 

Grian landed with Phil, in front of a small tunnel that bore deep into a hill that was just outside the country. 

“It’s now or never. Grain, stay behind me.” Phil tucked the letter away and led Grian through the tunnel, and into a compact stone room. Carved into the wall were words. No, not just words. Lyrics. 

I heard there was a special place, 

where men could go and emancipate. 

From the brutality and tyranny of their rulers. 

Well, this place was real, you needn’t fret, 

With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret. 

It’s a very big place, not blown up L’Manberg. 

MY L’MANBERG

MY L’MANBERG

MY L’MANBERG…

Those lyrics were carved all over the stone walls, and in the middle, was a stone button. In front of that button, was Philza’s eldest son, Wilbur. 

Grian had never actually seen Wilbur before, only in an old picture of when Phil, Wilbur, and Phil’s other two sons, Tommy and Technoblade, won MCC 4. In that picture, Wilbur wore a cute yellow sweater with a brown beanie, with a shimmering smile on his face. 

The man that stood before them now was not that person. It couldn’t be. Wilbur stood, hunched over a stone button, whispering to himself. He donned a brown trenchcoat and ditched the beanie. 

“What are you doing?” Phil asked.

Wilbur turned to face them. His eyes had no emotion in them, his smile no longer shimmered. Standing before them was an insane man. 

“I will admit,” Wilbur said. His voice sent a chill down Grian’s spine, “Do you know what this is? What this button is?” Phil’s speculations appeared to be true. Wilbur was trying to destroy L’Manberg. 

“Uh huh. I do.” How, how could Phil be so calm? 

“Have you heard the song? The song on the walls?” Wilbur’s fingers gently ran over the words ‘MY L’MANBERG’. His eye twitched, “I was just making a big point you know? About how there was a special place, it was a special place. But that's not there anymore.” Wil’s voice lowered to a hush. 

“It is there, Wil, it's out there.” 

“PHIL I’M ALWAYS SO CLOSE TO PRESSING THIS BUTTON! I’VE BEEN HERE LIKE SEVEN OR EIGHT TIMES--” Voices from above cut Wilbur off. Grian could hear footsteps above them. Wilbur turned his eyes to the stone ceiling and lowered his voice. “Oh they're going to come…I need to block this off.” Wilbur hastily piled blackstone bricks in the doorway, which not only sealed whoever “they” were out, but also sealed Grian, Phil, and Wilbur in.

“Oh Phil...I’ve been here so many times.” 

Numerous fireworks exploded outside. 

<Tubbo_ went off with a bang due to a firework fired from [Rocket Launcher] by Technoblade> 

“Oh they’re fighting, they’re fighting…” WIlbur whispered, sounding tired. 

“And you just want to...to blow it all up? You fought so hard for this land, Wilbur, and you just want to...destroy it all?” Phil tried to reason.

“I don’t even know if the button works anymore, Phil, I could press it, and it might--”

“Do you want to risk it? There is a lot of TNT potentially connected to that button.” 

Wilbur seemed to hear him. His breathing got heavier as he returned to that hunched over position over the stone button. What was this place? Nothing serious ever happened on Hermitcraft. There were no seriously high stakes, there were no serious threats, no serious danger. It was all in good fun. 

“There...there was a saying, Phil...by, uh, by a traitor. Once part of L’Manberg, don’t know if you ever heard of Eret, but he had a saying.” 

Wilbur looked up at Phil. Grian could see the familiar resemblance between the two, they shared emerald green eyes. 

“It was never meant to be.” Wilbur whispered that phrase, and pressed the stone button. 

[atinybitofau]

S E O N G H W A ⥈ mafia au series

RECAP: you finally have to close the deal with the devil and you meet with Hongjoong one last time before becoming a married woman. you also decide to postpone a honeymoon for another time.

word count: 2010+ , tags: angst

characters: ateez (ensemble), fem!reader

⤩ CHAPTER 2 ⤩

character list . prologue . one

Turns out Jongho had a thing for weeding out the imperfections, flaws in a woman. It was easy for him, arriving no later than 11 in the morning to join both you and San after your dress fitting to do your hair.

“I can fix the hair.” The city turned country gangster’s lips grimace at the dark bags under your drooping eyes. “The makeup.. you’ll have to do on your own, sweetheart.”

You clutch on the silver necklace he’s handed you before he put his hands on your head, the thought of blessing Seonghwa with an engagement gift beyond your intentional rights. You play with the small compass charm between your fingers and gaze at your reflection in the mirror.

So you look like complete shit: lack of sleep, lack of encouragement, lack of pride. This was you in your most pitiful state and the boys could only spare mercy in your absence of excitement. You’ve always dreamed about family and weddings— the trends in modern life you were never entitled to try. Seonghwa was already giving you parts of the world you’ve always wanted and you couldn’t hate him for that. The arrangement however was something you’ll have to hold against him.

“You look beautiful.” Yunho nods in your direction after Jongho fluffs at your curled hair. “Y/n, you do. Now stop frowning and making it worse.”

You let out an upheaval sigh. “Remind me again why I have to dress up for such a casual occasion.”

San scoffs from the side still nitpicking his sleek suit. “This is your wedding, y/n. Have some respect for yourself. It’s the least you can do.”

“It’s a wedding with a man I don’t even want. And he said so himself this was more a partnership than ties of love.” You force yourself to retort in the nicest way possible. “Seonghwa has good intentions and that’s great. But my place in his heart is not something I earned and I’m far from pleased.”

“You rather woo Seonghwa? Then do it, at least, after your wedding.” Yunho charmingly places his chin over your shoulder to face you in the mirror. “This wedding is passed formalities but something he sought good for the both of you. He wants you to feel comfortable and that’s leeway enough to your heart. Accept it as it is and maybe you won’t get shot.”

You hear it so many times, you ponder over thought of maybe wanting to get shot at this point. Why was Seonghwa so prideful? What else was he hiding?

“The day he ever wants to shoot me is the day I end this partnership of his he claims is good for the both of us.”

The trio behind you pause in their movements and let your answer sink in. It’s not everyday they get to see a woman get ready to marry a man they assume to be their best friend. It certainly isn’t every day they get to see a woman as beautiful as you sit in front of them with a personality as fierce as their empty hearted boss. Although they’re intimidated, they feel a particular sense of relief knowing you’re fully aware of your circumstances. They didn’t sign up for meddling in an innocent life though you’re far from innocent.

“We have to meet some of our partners..” San clears his throat as you fumble with the jewelery in your hand. “I’m sure you won’t mind if we leave you with your thoughts for a bit.”

“Not at all.” please.

They hum in response before setting out prompt, your thoughts a little more blind in your head than they think. You look in the mirror after they leave and think to yourself that you’re just a penny of satisfaction. The best way for you to accept all this is to breathe and let it go. It’s gotten you this far.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” A voice echoes through the slit of the door. “If you haven’t tried killing yourself already.”

Your eyes light up like a child on Christmas Day. “Hongjoong.”

His lips quirk at your tone of admiration. “You look beautiful, babe.”

Your own lips quiver and you’reholding back the years of tears. “Can you hug me please? Just this once?”

He sighs softly before coming over to take you into his arms. The homey embrace of someone you trusted— no someone who trusts you was enough to end some misery. The one thing Seonghwa could grant you that you’d thank him for was this. Hongjoong was far from what you deserve but he’s someone you wished you could have. Life served you another platter and you can’t just complain and ask for a refund.

“Of all the years I’ve known you, y/n, seeing you in a wedding gown would be the last thing I’d ever imagine.”

You roll your eyes at the city mobster before turning in your chair. “I’m surprised he let you imagine let alone show up today.”

Hongjoong presses his lips together and fumbles with his tie. “There’s a lot of things you’d be surprised by.”

You sniffle mostly to undermine all the overwhelming thoughts in your head. Hongjoong sees right through you though.

“I’m sure Seonghwa’s got good intentions. Despite the fact, obviously, I’m not all for the things he does—Beyond what he does, y/n, he’s a good guy.”

You scoff his way, looking elsewhere in your reflection afraid of his words.

“Are you here to patronize the enemy some more or walk me down the aisle?”

He chuckles wholeheartedly, coming over to plant a reassuring kiss on the top of your head. Where your father lacked, Hongjoong picked up. You can’t name a single man— no person on this planet who has made you whole enough as Hongjoong does and maybe why Seonghwa is threatened. Hongjoong is a force no one is reckoned to feel accustomed to. The city monster had ties everywhere. Feeling sorry for your father was one thing; feeling sorry for you was little of what the truth was.

“You are a gem.” He annunciations through a genuine smile. “Be it Seonghwa nor I aren’t lucky to have. You’re a blessing.”

You look into Hongjoong’s eyes with a type of everlasting loyalty you can’t define. “How can you be okay with Seonghwa having me? I was already yours..”

“Your father was mine and I let you have the benefit of the doubt.” His comment sharpens at the end.

“Losing him was nothing but means to end for you. Don’t act like it was more than that.” You try to rebuttal.

“It was something I didn’t like but it sure as hell made you happy. And so I heard.”

Hongjoong’s very casual. He likes to be hands on in a moment and is, trend wise, very different from your future husband. It’s not like you loved Hongjoong romantically or anything. It just felt wrong to need to love someone else that’s all.

“Walk down the aisle.” He whispers again against the crown of your ear, hand hovering over your bare shoulders with hesitance and grace. “I’ll always be right here when you need me the most.”

It’s some misdirection partly. Also partly your fault that you’ve gotten here. Now you’re walking down an aisle with Southside’s very own devil standing at the alter awaiting you. You don’t look back on purpose. That and Hongjoong’s grip right beside is not one on par with a fatherly gesture. Hongjoong probably wanted to wring Seonghwa for what it’s worth too.

“Past formalities?” Hongjoong mumbles when you two get one step closer to the end of your suicide mission.

“Definitely past that.”

“Knock em dead, sweetheart.”

Let the party commence.

There was little shared words between you, your new husband, and the pastor. With what seemed like false devotion and empty promises, the wedding reception began. You two sat together on a podium where it’s pretty obvious Seonghwa’s treated like royalty. You were right in his district and with first impressions comes clear boundaries to be made. He wanted you to know where he stands. You two sat together as husband and wife but complete strangers. It was awkward watching the sight of men come and go to prove that Seonghwa was nothing but a merciless mafia boss. The gifts weren’t even of your benefit either.

Hongjoong left early (something you’ll press against him some other day forward) and you were stuck thinking about when this cursed day was going to end. Somehow someway it did and you were in a car fraternizing with the enemy this time.

“— So you married me instead?”

The air gets thick. It almost gets so thick you think you’re getting some type of allergic reaction to his face in the confinement of his wide vehicle. Staring at him was no gut wrenching eye sore but it’s not something you were used to just yet. Seonghwa’s eyes matched the color of war— red with fury and relent. There was something there that his calm tone didn’t quite express to it’s fullest capability.

“You’d rather be dead?”

His coldness reflected on you. It’s probably your body’s natural mechanism of defense coming to play because you’re sure as hell you’re not gonna let some man control you for the rest of your life. No, you may not get that right to speak up and say something that might as well get you killed but you still aren’t gonna let him walk all over you.

“Are you gonna get out of your dress or did you want me to strip you out of it for you instead?”

His tone persists as he emerges from the bathroom to see you sitting on solemn. You glance up tiredly at the cheeky bastard who’s lips perk at your attention. You look away without a word at all before taking your dress off without further notice.

His throat clams up at the sight, unsure of how long his self constraint would last even for the night. The sight of your broadened narrow shoulders— bare and ready to taste— was something he was definitely not prepared for. His hands tremble as the damp towel between his fingers drops and you glance to look at him.

“Tempted?” You rasp in the most taunting voice you could fabricate. “Mind me, but you asked if I was going to get out of my dress, Seonghwa. I’m showing you that I can follow basic instructions, was that not what you asked of me? Of this partnership.”

He chokes on that, jaw clenched. “Pressing my buttons, honey, is not something I suggest you test.”

You hold your dress up back to your chest as you turn to face him. “I’m just letting you know what kind of wife you gambled to marry, my sweet husband.”

He nearly screams the moment you slam the bathroom door. Not realizing on both sides that either of you were ready to combust. You shower the anger, the resentment away and Seonghwa just lays back on his bed staring at the bathroom door.

He needs to stay away from you at any time possible. Until he learns to control himself at least. Living with a woman, a woman of his absurd dreams, was proving itself difficult. You weren’t just gonna give yourself up to him just like that either.

“Sleep. You have a busy day tomorrow.” Is all he says before turning on his back when you shut the lights off.

You stare at it. Like the night before when he got in bed without even saying a word, feeling cold.

“J-Just me?” You ask propped still on your elbow in the dark.

“I have business to take care of in the city. You’ll have San and Yunho tomorrow.” His voice lulls deeper as he’s getting pulled to his exhaustion. “It’s training you have to endure just in case. Hongjoong informed me you never took part in your father’s extravaganza’s and I need to know my wife is safe while I leave.”

“You want me to learn how to fight?”

“Something like that..”

@atinybitofau

[keanureevesisbae]

Coach Cavill - Chapter 2

Summary: Benji really likes his new coach and Amelia can only agree. 

Coach!Henry Cavill x Amelia Jung (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

‘Annabelle did not pee her pants today,’ I tell Greg, when I place the shopping basket on the counter. ‘She actually managed to reach the toilets in time, so no clothes in a plastic bag today.’

When I walked out of school today, I got a text from Eve, saying that if Benji, Isabella and I wanted to have dinner at her place, I should bring some ingredients back with me and I really want to have dinner at her place. She is a much better cook than I am. Or even will be for that matter.

‘I’m proud of her,’ Greg chuckles, as he scans the articles. ‘By the way, I heard coach Cavill is a success.’

I agree to that a bit too quickly, but Greg is clueless (bless his heart) and doesn’t hear the desperation in my voice. Two practices have passed since the first one on Monday and usually I would bring some work with me, but now I’m enjoying every second of it. It’s something about how Henry handles the kids. I mean, when men are good with kids, it’s always a plus (I mean, have you seen Chris Evans with kids?), but it was different with Henry. The way he would grab the back of Benji’s brown belt, hoisting him up, it was something fatherly.

I remember when Benji was younger, Dean would bring him to practice. Since Benji had this thing about not changing in the locker rooms when he was younger (he finally outgrew that, thankfully), he’d get dressed back at home and Dean would carry him into the practice centre, as if Benji was a sports bag.

What has changed between Benji and Dean?

Henry’s deep voice fills the judo hall, with compliments to each kid. Some of them prefer the yelling type of coaching, while Benji prefers an one on one moments, where the coach would softly and privately tell him how he is doing.

No one hears the things he says to my son and I can’t believe this man knows how to handle my son within one week.

However, I’m not the only one who is enjoying the training, since the crowd of drooling moms is expanding with the minute. ‘Benji really likes him.’

Greg nods. ‘Good, good. Henry is already a well liked customer here. He buys a lot of groceries,’ he says. ‘I heard he lived in the old house miss Bonny used to live.’

‘He lives in that dump?’ I ask. That house has been empty for at least five years since her passing and kids are often told that the spirit of miss Bonny is circling around. Now my kids never believed in that, since I told them that was untrue. It’s just… The place scares me a bit, so I never walk passed that place when it was already dim outside. ‘Why?’

‘Has too much time on his hands?’ He shrugs. ‘I have no idea, never really asked about that, but what is a Brit doing here anyway?’

‘Trying to disrupt the peace here and breaking up marriages. You should see the bleachers during practice,’ I chuckle. ‘There are more women than there are kids. I saw Lotte Gambles even sitting there.’

‘Lotte Gambles doesn’t have any kids nor is interested in judo or any sport for that matter,’ Greg notes.

‘My thoughts exactly,’ I laugh. ‘I mean, how obvious do you want to make it that you are thirty seven, single and desperate?’

‘I bet you’re glad you got pregnant when you were in college, so you’d have a kid, thus an excuse to ogle the handsome coach.’

‘Greg,’ I tell him in my stern teacher voice, ‘I know what tooth broke off. My fist can do that again.’

He holds up his hands in defense. ‘I’ll shut u— Oh no.’

‘What oh no?’ I look over my shoulder and let out a frustrated sigh. Why is Dean here? With Mindy of all people? Is she incapable of doing something herself? Whenever I see her, it’s always with Dean. I don’t think I’ve ever run into her without my ex by her side.

Dean notices me and holds up his hand. I simply turn around again and say to Greg: ‘I’ll give you an extra twenty bucks if you can speed it up a bit.’

‘Amelia,’ I hear Dean say behind me and I clench my jaw out of frustration. I hate the way he says my name. I just hate him anyways. I can’t believe I was married to someone, who had the capability of hurting me so bad. ‘I still haven’t heard if I have Isabella over this weekend.’

I might’ve “forgotten” to text him. ‘She didn’t want to go,’ I simply tell him, ‘but she will think about going for the rest of the weekend, when she sees you tomorrow at the match.’

‘And Benji is still sure that he only wants me there?’ Dean wraps his arm around Mindy’ waist and I’m ready to stab my car keys or anything really in his eye. Why is he rubbing in that he has someone new, a younger model that he exchanged me for?

‘Benji is more than sure.’ I pay for my groceries and Greg hands me the plastic bag. ‘Thank you, Greg.’

‘Wish Benji good luck from me, will you?’ Greg says. ‘I’m not going to be able to make it tomorrow.’

‘So no snacks for us?’ I ask him, pushing my wallet back in my purse.

‘Sorry, Amelia, but I’ll put something behind the registry. When you guys come over, I’ll give you something to make up for it.’

‘You are amazing, Greg. Thank you.’ I look at Dean and say: ‘I’m serious, don’t go and bring,’—don’t say the toddler, Amelia, you have to be more mature than that and you are—‘her with you. Your son specifically asked for you and that means only you.’

I don’t even want to hear what he has to say about that, but I have known Dean for quite some time now: he has plenty to say. I walk to the lot and as I try and find my keys, when I hear a: ‘Hello Amelia.’

I look up so quickly, I nearly break my neck. ‘Coach Cavill,’ I say with a smile.

‘Henry, please.’

‘Excuse me, Henry. What are you doing here?’

‘Just going to get some snacks at the store,’ he explains.

Why going to get some snacks, when you are the only snack around? Thankfully I have the ability to shut my mouth, but I need to tell Eve this as soon as I get to her house. I bite my lip as I look at his outfit. I mean, he is a delicious looking man in his judogi. Normally men don’t wear shirts underneath it, but I do think he is aware that if he were to grace us with a glimpse of his bare chest, all the women would be dead in a heartbeat, me included.

But now, he is wearing jeans and a thick sweater and it looks so homey. I’m just going to put it out there: it’s an outfit that I have dreamed about, in a setting where he is sitting on our couch.

I simply nod. ‘Well, Benji really looks forward for tomorrow,’ I say. ‘He has been talking non stop about how great of a coach you are.’ It warmed my heart to hear Benji speaking so highly about his new coach, he barely does that. ‘He really doesn’t want to let you down.’

Benji always says that he doesn’t want to let me down. Not his dad, not Eve, not Johnny, not his grandparents, not even his sister, but only me. Hearing how there is someone else that he doesn’t want to let down, someone he met just this week, it makes me all sorts of happy. It’s all I ever wanted for my son, to have someone who shares his love for judo on a much deeper level.

I mean, sure, he and Johnny are close, he and my dad are close, but that is different. They don’t share his love for judo with him. Just like Dean and Benji never shared his love for judo. Their bond was never optimal.

Dean is loud, sometimes a bit crude and that was a bit too much for Benji from time to time. A real dad might tone it down a bit, however Dean is not a real dad, from my perspective of course.

‘Really?’ Henry smiles brightly, as he buries his hands in his pockets. ‘That’s always good to hear. I mean, whatever happens tomorrow, I’m proud of him anyways. Your son is an amazing judoka, Amelia. I’ve been training judoka’s for quite some time now, but Benji is on another level. I swear, the way that kid prepares before the throws, it’s quite something. Very unpredictable.’

Hearing other people gush about my children, is something that I always love, but hearing it from a coach who is new, but also seems like the type of man that really, really knows what he is doing, makes it extra special.

‘Really?’ I ask. ‘Wait, now it sounds like I’m actually surprised that he is good, while I know that Benji is amazing, but… His other coaches never gushed about him like you just did. And how long have you known him? A week?’

‘It comes with being a good coach, I guess,’ he says, with an even wider smile on his face. ‘When you see someone talented, you recognize it right away. I’m serious.’

‘Thank you for believing in him.’

‘That’s fairly easy when someone is that good,’ he tells me. ‘I’m not trying to infiltrate in yours and Benji’s life, but… I just have to ask. The divorce, it’s really hard on him, isn’t it?’

I sigh. ‘It is. I mean, it’s hard on both of my kids, but Isabella is really different. She understands that we are never getting back together, that her father is starting a new life and that I’m trying to do that too, but she never blames herself for it. Not one second. Benji on the other hand, keeps assuming it’s his fault. He keeps thinking if he was a better kid, a different kid, Dean wouldn’t have left.’

‘I’m so sorry to hear that,’ Henry says. ‘It must be tough on the three of you.’

‘It is. I mean, Benji is so sweet, but he takes a lot too personal, while this whole divorce had nothing to do with him.’ I sigh deeply and add: ‘It’s good for him that he has another male role model in his life that he shares something so important with.’

Henry smiles and is that a little blush on his cheeks? ‘Happy to be that for him.’

I realize that what I’m saying now, belongs in a therapy session, not on a parking lot with my son’s hot judo coach ‘I’m so sorry, that’s too much information about a messy divorce you don’t want to hear about.’

‘No, I brought it up myself. It’s just that… I can see it with Benji, how much he is seeking for approval. Just let him know that I’m never going to be disappointed in him. No matter how he performs tomorrow and all the trainings and competitions after that.’

I blink my eyes, as I try to not cry. ‘I’ll let him know. Thanks, Henry, for everything.’

‘No problem, Amelia.’ He motions towards the store and says: ‘I’ve got to go, I’m terribly sorry.’

‘No, no, I understand,’ I quickly say. ‘Please, don’t let me stall you. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Isabella, Benji and I finally managed to sneak out of Eve’s house. Normally I’m not too strict with bed time, especially when it’s weekend, but we have to wake up pretty early tomorrow and I want Benji to feel fresh and fit for his match. I already gave Isabella a kiss, before I walk over to Benji’s room. He is scrolling through his phone and looks up with a smile.

‘Hi sweetheart, what are you doing?’

‘Just checking the opponents.’

‘Can I come in?’ I ask.

‘Of course, mom.’ Benji places his phone to the side, as I sit on the edge of his bed.

‘Benji, we have to talk.’

‘Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?’ His voice is dripping with worry. I should’ve worded it differently.

‘Oh, no, of course not. It’s just that… I ran into coach Cavill today at the grocery store and he wanted me to let you know that he is not going to be disappointed in you, no matter how you perform.’

Benji nods, as he leans with his back against the headboard of his bed. ‘I just don’t want to let him down, mom.’

‘And you’ll never will,’ I say to him, running my fingers through his hair.

‘Dad said that too,’ he mumbles.

I nod. ‘But he always was disappointed when you didn’t win gold,’ I fill in for him. ‘I know, but remember, your dad was overly competitive and was a failure in every single sport out there, thanks to his selfish personality. But you should remember, that not every man in your life is like him. Uncle Johnny and grandpa and even Greg from the store, they are all incredibly proud of you and those men don’t even understand judo. Imagine how proud coach Cavill is going to be, since you both share a love for judo.’

‘But, mom, what if he thinks that I’m not good enough?’

‘You are good enough, honey,’ I say with a smile. ‘And you always will be, for everyone around here and that means for coach too. He will always think that you are good enough, He even said that you were on another level today and he knows his stuff about judo. Remember again, he is not your dad.’

He sighs. ‘I’m scared for tomorrow.’

My sweet and worried Benji. ‘You want me to call coach for you? I think I have his number somewhere in my email. Maybe he can calm you down a bit, prepare you for tomorrow.’

He wants to appear a little tougher than he is, so he shakes his head, but his puppy eyes say something completely different. Thankfully my mom instincts have barely proved me wrong, because I grab my phone from my back pocket and scroll through my mail, trying to find the introduction email from Henry. I click on his phone number and bring the phone to my ear, while holding Benji’s hand even tighter in mine than before. ‘Henry,’ he says when he picks up.

‘Hi, this is Amelia.’

‘Oh, hi Amelia, what a nice surprise. Are you okay?’

This man is quite something else, asking if I’m okay. When was the last time that Dean asked me something like that? I think it was at least six months before I found out he was banging his intern Mindy Simpleton, so that makes it more than a year.

‘Yeah, I’m okay, but I have very a nervous young boy here, who doesn’t believe that he is good enough.’

‘That can’t be good.’ Henry says. ‘You want me to talk to him?’

‘If you want.’

‘Of course I want that. You can put Benji on.’

I hold out my phone for Benji and he hesitantly takes it out of my hand. ‘Hi, coach,’ he says and I stand up, as I clean up his room for a bit, making sure his sports bag is all packed and ready to go.  I know he should do that himself and he does, but it never hurts anyone to double check. ‘Yeah … No, I’m just worried … My mom said that too … Yeah, she is indeed … I’m sorry … No, I really am … I’ll see you tomorrow … Will do … Thank you … Of course.’ Benji holds out the phone for me and says: ‘Coach wants to say something to you.’

I take the phone and say: ‘Hi, it’s me again.’

‘I hope that worked.’

‘That was quick,’ I whisper, as I see Benji getting ready for bed, with a smile on his face. ‘How did you do that?’

‘I’m that amazing,’ he says. ‘No, just kidding. I recognize myself in him, so I know how he feels.’

There is so much I want to ask him. He recognizes himself in my son? Why doesn’t that match up in my head?

‘Anyway, just wanted to tell you that he is a great kid, he’ll do fine and that tomorrow I’ll be his coach and his coach only for that block.’

‘Could you wait for a second?’ I ask him. ‘Just real quick.’

‘Of course.’

I hold the phone away and ask Benji: ‘Are you okay, honey?’

‘I’m fine,’ he says.

‘Well, good night and I’ll see you tomorrow. Rise and shine at six.’

He groans. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, sweetheart, I’m sorry. It’s quite the drive.’ I give him a kiss on his forehead. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, mom.’

I smile at my handsome boy, before I walk out of his room, flicking off the light and closing the door. ‘I’m sorry you had to wait.’

‘You need to find better and more appropriate moments to apologize,’ he says. ‘You’re always apologizing, even when you shouldn’t.’

‘Yeah, it’s an annoying trait.’

‘Not annoying, little bit unnecessary.’

I walk downstairs and sit on a stool at the kitchen island. ‘It’s amazing, really,’ I say, ‘what you managed to do to him. I barely recognize him.’

‘What I said, I see a lot of him in me. It’s hard being that age and… Well, having to deal with a divorce.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘What did I say about apologizing, Amelia?’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘This wasn’t an apology,’ I defend myself. ‘This was empathy, very nice of me. You should appreciate that.’

‘You’re right,’ he chuckles.

I sigh. ‘But it is hard on him. This town barely has experience with a divorce, especially if all parties stay in town. We’re all figuring out how to deal with it really.’

‘Yeah, I heard. After you and I saw each other at the lot, Greg told me who you ran into in the store.’

‘Greg, what a big fat blabbermouth. He was never like this back in high school, but the store changed him.’

‘He means well,’ Henry laughs. ‘I haven’t been here too long,’ he continues, ‘but I’ve heard quite some things going around about you and Dean and the kids. I just want you to know that you are doing an amazing job and that Dean is the one who lost out.’

I can’t help but blush and I’m so grateful that he can’t actually see me now. I bite my lip. ‘I just can’t believe that you arrive here when I’m in the spotlight of the town gossip.’

‘Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not interested in town gossip,’ he says. ‘I can tell you that I trust my own judgement a lot more than rumors.’

This shouldn’t make me tear up and I blink away my tears, before clearing my throat. ‘That means a lot.’

‘Of course.’ Henry’s voice is soft and I wonder what he is doing right now. Is he also in his kitchen, is he relaxing on his couch or was he doing work and have I interrupted him?

‘I have to hang up,’ I say. ‘There is a lot that I still need to do. Preparations for tomorrow and such. You want me to bring something for you? I’ve heard that I make great sandwiches.’

‘What a mom move,’ he laughs and a chuckle escapes from my lips. ‘But I’m never saying no to a great sandwich. I love everything, so surprise me.’

‘Will do. See you tomorrow, Henry.’

‘Yeah, see you tomorrow, Amelia.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Taglist: @diegos-butt​ // @henrythickcavill​ // @thelastsock​ // @onlyhenrys​ // @agniavateira​ // @needmorereading​ // @summersong69​ // @coldmuffinbanditshoe // @chamomilebottom // @toomanystoriessolittletime // @shadesofarrogance​ // @crazybutconfidentaf​ // @oddsnendsfanfics​ // @gearhead66​ // @star017​ // @iloveyouyen​ // @thereisa8ella​ // @thethirstyarchive // @nina-skyee // @rn7rocks // @hollytehmoomin // @star017 // @abschaffer2​ //

[hopevalley]

Season 8, Episode 5: What the Heart Wants

I was going to try to follow my scene-by-scene format for the entire season, but I’ve been getting a lot of migraines recently, presumably from staring at the computer too long, so I don’t want to spend all morning working on typing up the play-by-play for this episode.

Also, for what it’s worth I think this episode lends itself to plot discussion better than some of the previous episodes...at least in some sense.

And as another head’s up, it’s back to being critical for me. ;P

Storylines:

School Ends/Graduation/Parent-Teacher Conferences

The Dress Shop/Rachel

Postal Service, Ned

Bill’s Uniform, Nathan’s Vacation

Carson and Faith

Henry

Elizabeth and Lucas

Clara’s Dilemma

--

School Ends/Graduation/Parent-Teacher Conferences

This plot felt a little scattered, but for once it wasn’t the kind of storyline they foisted too much drama upon. After years of every single function possible being besieged by bullshittery, it’s a relief to see one go off without a real hitch.

The beginning scene with Robert hugging Elizabeth was sweet. I enjoyed the Canfields immensely and am intrigued by Angela’s role in the story long-term (PLEASE let her befriend Allie!). Nathan...eh, I have thoughts—but I’ll talk about that a bit soon. The actual ceremony was cute and kind of fun with the kids singing. 

Neat Thing I Noticed:

Continuity? Cat Montgomery is still listed as Emily’s mother. ♥♥♥ I don’t know why but this made me really happy???

-

Complaint Corner:

Parent-teacher conferences should have been in this show from a much earlier point, and so should graduation have been. If there was a point to this celebration (the first year in a while anyone was old enough to graduate) that would have been a nice touch, too. It just managed to feel sliiiightly out of place.

I’ll forgive the “everyone in town goes to the graduation” thing because this is 1918...something like this would be a whole-town affair IMO. Invite everyone and have a nice get-together/party, probably on a Sunday afternoon after church but Hope Valley does whatever it wants, so...eh.

The threat of merging Hope Valley with other schools doesn’t fit in this scenario and it feels like they ripped it directly out of Tales from Avonlea which was almost rage-inducing to me.

Look, school mergers happened a lot in the early 1900s, especially around the WWI mark, but it wouldn’t be hitting a rural western town just yet. They don’t have any way of getting these kids to other towns for schooling. Where would the next closest school be? It would have to be pretty large and modern to merge multiple schools together.

*Adjusts nerd glasses* This felt forced and completely unnecessary. If anything this guy could be telling Elizabeth that they’re working on building a modern school somewhat close by, and could even have her involved in some decision-making regarding layout. Then they could bring in a “merger” storyline next season without it feeling out of place.

It mostly just felt dramatic for the hell of it, and it was boring, as was this man’s threat that Elizabeth had no right to teach a blind student. As if they’d accept Angela at a better school? As if her parents could afford top tier education for her? PLEASE.

Now it’s time for Nathan. The man chose to go fishing instead of to the parent-teacher conference? It makes him look like a tool. This isn’t about him or about Elizabeth; it’s about Allie. I understand why he didn’t want to go, but he should have done it anyway. It would have taken five minutes of his time. 

His flippant attitude annoyed me because it went completely against his character as we know it, but Elizabeth’s lecturing was irritating, too. For a moment I thought we had Lorigail back on the show...

I think Elizabeth was well within her rights to warn Nathan about the effect his work has on his ward, but that inquiry took like a week AT MOST. Heck, let’s be generous and say TWO WEEKS. Allie’s concentration suffered for two weeks. There was no need to say more than, “Hey she worries about you and her work suffered for a bit during that time frame, just so you’re aware.” 

I think what annoyed me about the math program thing is that...Elizabeth being a teacher would probably be VERY WELL AWARE that MOST of the parents to her students aren’t good enough at schooling to assist their kids with their homework. I dunno, it just feels out of place for her to tell Nathan that she wants to put Allie in an accelerated “program” and that Allie might need his help with her homework. It’s even more out of place when he admits he used to bribe his sister to do his work for him. Like. It’s very possible he’s not that good at math and isn’t capable of helping. (But maybe that will be a plot down the road...?)

“Or a tutor...” BITCH WHERE IS HE GONNA FIND A TUTOR IN THIS TOWN?! It’s super annoying to see dialogue like this that feels completely out of touch with the reality these people would be living in...lol. But also if she needs a tutor to stay caught up in an advanced program, she probably...shouldn’t be in the advanced program.

I don’t know how to feel about this whole thing here: “Nathan, you are Allie’s world. You’re the only father she’s ever known, and as she grows up you will always be the measure of the quality she’ll look for in a man as she chooses who to marry.” 

On one hand, it does fit the situation (he seems to think everything is behind him but Elizabeth’s words are kind of a caution that 1) his actions still have an effect on Allie, and 2) every day he’s teaching her by example). On the other hand, it seems almost wildly inappropriate to bring up? At the same time, it’s probably not wrong that Allie will measure other men (friends, acquaintances, potential future romantic interests) against Nathan’s example.

I dunno. The conversation felt disjointed. 

I think what they were going for was Nathan just feeling too awkward and weird about being with Elizabeth to want to be there for the conference, but...he interacted with her quite normally after the inquiry and stuff (even after she’d broken things off with him), so...it feels out of place. Like maybe this should have taken place right after the breakup and not weeks later?

Anyone else have thoughts on this and why it doesn’t feel quite right?

--

The Dress Shop/Rachel

This plot wasn’t what I would call a waste of time (rather, it’s worth having it mentioned now), but part of it was completely pointless and stupid. The whole Rachel getting lost thing was tacked into the promos to stir up drama, but nothing happened and there was nothing worrisome even going on. YAWN.

Rosemary’s desire to do something meaningful and different with her life is super interesting. I’m very curious to see what they decide to do with her if Dottie does sell the dress shop.

Also, Rosemary finding the book under Rachel’s bed was pretty funny.

But yeah, I didn’t really find much in this plotline to care deeply about. I guess I am pretty interested in knowing who might be purchasing the dress shop and/or if this decision is to bring someone else onto the show (a female love interest for the man who doesn’t win Elizabeth’s heart in the end, or even to bring back an old character*) or to take the dress shop out of the equation entirely... It’s also just as possible that Rosemary/Lee or Clara/Jesse end up buying it themselves down the line... Thoughts?

*I can’t begin to imagine who would be the best fit for this in this case, though. Who would have the money to buy her out?

--

Postal Service, Ned

Ned is just honestly so cute and fun. I love him. He’s really been doing well this season and seeing him wander around town delivering mail door to door was kind of nice.

Also, he’s one SMOOTH operator! Look at him, talking about putting a bell on the door so that he and Florence won’t be caught off-guard if they’re in the middle of...something. 

Oh my, Ned. What might customers be...interrupting? :3

Continuity? Not only was the ulcer from last season brought up, but the horrid cabbage juice was, too. :’) It was a nice touch. And these two had just enough screentime to be kind of fun/interesting without also taking up too much time.

--

Bill’s Uniform, Nathan’s Vacation

Nathan got his vacation and Bill is in charge...again. This happens an awful lot. I wonder if it’ll actually impact the next few episodes or if it’s just here for the hell of it.

I love Bill a lot and I want to brag up his character in this episode a bit. I’ve complained many times in the past about him being written like a Grumpy Old Man Yelling at Clouds but this episode was super respectful. He got his scene with his uniform. Nobody interrupted it. There weren’t even any words. I quite liked it.

But it also felt kind of...pointless? I don’t want to judge it too harshly yet. Like the dress shop plotline, this could actually be going somewhere in the next couple of episodes. 

Plus, unrelated to the uniform, it was nice to see Bill acting fatherly toward Clara. While it sort of came out of nowhere for the wedding, I appreciate the attempt at continuity there. Plus, so far this season, I’ve felt like Bill’s almost been a father-figure to Clara, Fiona, and even Nathan, so I’m enjoying that a lot.

--

Carson and Faith

CONTINUITY? The show finally remembered that not only is Carson actually a surgeon, but that was his original passion. It’s not that they completely forgot (S5 had him performing surgery on his sister-in-law, after all), but giving Carson a PASSION makes him a way more interesting character to me. 

And also, finally, this feels like a REAL high-stakes plotline for him and for Faith.

I really liked Faith’s take on things. I know, I know, I’ve been rooting at them to break up, but the reason is mostly because they’re just so BORING together. I’d rather watch Henry twirl around in a chair for an hour than suffer through date scenes with these two.

It’s not that I’m against a doctor wife/husband team. I’m not. I just think Faith was a much more interesting and cool character on the show before Carson showed up and usurped her place (and completely overshadowed her for literal seasons). This plotline for Carson might actually be interesting. Like, a fellowship? For modern surgery? IN BALTIMORE?!

I hope this is Faith’s way of saying she wants a break and/or a break would be good for them. I can’t picture her leaving Hope Valley without any trained medical staff, let alone long enough for a fellowship... 

But if this goes through, what will they do with it? Would they really write Carson off the show? To be perfectly honest with y’all, I’d be fine with that. At least it’s the type of write-off that makes a lot of good sense (unlike some of the other ones we got). I guess this is just another “wait and see” plotline which is uhh...the theme of this episode, huh? Anyone have thoughts on this?

--

Henry

Henry barely had any screentime, but I do want to say he is #relateable. The man is back at work for ten seconds and already exhausted. SAME.

Also, I appreciate that he’s ready to be back in the oil business. At what cost? I know people were worried they were gonna kill him off, and I really doubted it, but now I’m starting to wonder where they’re going with this exactly. Yet another wait and see moment LOL!

--

Elizabeth and Lucas

Some damn fine scenes for Lucas and Elizabeth in this episode. Mostly the scenic ones. :P

I enjoyed the agreement to a date. The horseback riding stuff was pretty cute. 

Complaint corner? I don’t know. I have petty complaints. Even though the celebration for the kids was a town-wide event, and therefore Lucas was invited, it still felt out of place to see it brought up. Maybe it should have been mentioned as a town celebration from the start?

Then Lucas’s comment about not wanting to make things awkward for Nathan (who is actually a parent and there) makes a liiiittle more sense. I do think it was good of him to not go, even though he wanted to spend more time with Elizabeth, but it gave off a weird vibe, like, “Look at how good and wholesome Lucas is!” Is that intentional? I’m not...sure...?

For what it’s worth I already felt like Lucas was an honorable person in this regard. He loaned Nathan money, after all. Maybe he should have told Elizabeth he views Nathan as a friend and doesn’t want to hurt his feelings unnecessarily and/or if he was there he’d want to hog her all to himself or something cheesy. Hm.

My other complaints are:

Elizabeth running to the saloon would be WAY faster than all this getting set up at her house...?? Who thought this made sense?

Elizabeth’s dress looked like a nightie she bought at Kohls.

Too many damn candles.

Characters Do What Plot Dictates Even Though Plot Makes No Sense. More at 11:00!!

I have no further comments on the dress. It needed sleeves or something so it looked more like a dress and not like a nightgown/piece of lingerie.

I think the candles might have been on purpose to parallel Jack...but I hated it lol. Fire hazard? HAVEN’T ENOUGH THINGS IN TOWN BURNED DOWN/EXPLODED?!

I didn’t hate the date scene! But I never feel like Elizabeth has any meaningful conversations with Lucas and it’s starting to drive me batty. 

Could we get uhhh something of substance please? It has to be surface-level nonsense on purpose. Right? RIGHT?

(And no, discussing a book for ten seconds on-screen is not “intelligent conversation” okay...?)

It’s really a shame because I’m starting to actually warm up to Lucas a little bit in this season but it feels like the conversations are just...kind of stilted and she’s not really into dating him—just agreeing to it because he’s the only option. 

And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but...he deserves better than that. 

Don’t get me wrong, by the way. If it’s part of the story and it’s revealed as such down the road, I’ll be fine with it...but I always worry they’ll just skip important relationship milestones and/or important conversations and expect us all to just accept it.

Kiiiiiind of looking forward to the rainy date scene in the next episode, though. I’m Team Nathan mostly but I’m keeping an open mind and I think I might actually enjoy it. Hopefully they’ll get some good scenes together that don’t feel like this one did.

--

Clara's Dilemma

Clara’s fears about running the salon without Fiona...are legit. LOL.

Also, this little bit was funny (between Mike and Jesse and Bill):

Anyway, if Clara was that worried about it, she should have just...told Fiona no? I hope it comes up down the road. Poor Molly??

I genuinely don’t know how I feel about Clara and Jesse’s involvement in this episode. I guess it was okay. I liked Clara’s scenes with Bill. I thought the idea of Clara and Jesse buying into the cafe was a nice one. Jesse having “invested” their money and lost it all, though... They did a similar plot with other people in what...Season 5 was it? Or was that the start of S6? He didn’t even say what he invested it in? But he admits the money is all gone? 

I think that’s what was missing from that scene. “I invested it in X, hoping to make us more money, but it didn’t work out and we lost everything.”

I’m not going to criticize Jesse’s characterization, only because sometimes character "growth” doesn’t happen for the better of anyone involved. My biggest worry here is that it’ll be solved by the end of next episode....but I hope that’s not it.

Like, I think they did better with Frank and Abigail if we’re going to talk about a man who didn’t know how to live like he was in a committed relationship. It made more sense with Frank, too, being older and single most of his life. His bouts of selfishness felt realistic.

Jesse feels like he’s somehow getting worse and worse as a person as the show goes on. I’m kind of at a point where I hope he and Clara divorce, because he’s so damn selfish it’s embarrassing. He’s off having a beer while his wife works multiple jobs? And then he has the audacity to act like they should save money when he just blew all their savings? 

I’m sure it’ll work out fine but I hope Clara puts herself in charge of the finances at the very least.

As to investing failures, I liked how they did that with Henry and Abigail. That was the kind of tension and worry that felt natural to me—like she trusted him with her money after he’d proven himself untrustworthy ten million times throughout the years, and he failed and had to uhh admit that. 

Jesse straight up betrayed Clara. Which, if it’s dealt with in a satisfying way...I think can be a good plotline. I just worry about it actually being dealt with properly. That’s a huge stumbling block in a relationship. And why is he continually getting worse as a person? There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. 

Gasp... it’s almost like it’s just plot because they feel like they have to give someone something every damn episode.

--

Which brings me to THE FINAL

COMPLAINT CORNER (The Big Boy™ Complaints)

The show has really struggled with finding its footing. I wish they’d take notes from better shows with ensemble casts (cough cough Road to Avonlea cough) without also ripping off their storylines (cough school merges cough).

My #1 complaint at this point in Season 8 is the SHEER AMOUNT OF THINGS GOING ON EVERY EPISODE.

I want continuity, so I want to see things happen naturally over a season, but my God do we not need to have mindless pointless crap in the episode. Rachel getting “lost” for ten seconds wasted literal MINUTES of screen time that would have been MUCH better allocated to basically anyone else in this episode.

And I don’t think it would bother me so much if it wasn’t also shoved into the promo like it was supposed to matter. It didn’t matter. Nobody cares. Why was it allowed to stay in the episode alongside stuff like Clara and Bill’s conversation?

Or Lucas and Carson’s?

I think they want to appease all the fans in every episode by giving them scenes of their favorites, but what did Henry sitting in his chair accomplish in this episode? Rachel getting lost? Jack not sleeping well/missing his mom? The school superintendent?

Did Bill trying on his uniform have to be in this episode? Did Jesse and Clara’s problems have to come fully to light right now?

When every episode is formatted like this, with 10 plotlines all interconnected slightly and going on at the same time, I feel like...nobody gets the spotlight they deserve when they deserve it.

I cANNOT believe I’m saying this, but this plotline for Carson, especially if it will end with him leaving the show for a while or permanently should get the focus it deserves. But it won’t if we get tiny snips of it here and there and then BOOM decision made because Reasons.

And again, I know I’ve said before that I want more continuity throughout the season, but... the best way to do that is to tighten up the plots. Have fewer of them per season and give more screentime to the ones you choose to pursue. 

--

Anyway, I’m still enjoying the season, but I hope they keep some of this kind of stuff in mind for next season. They don’t need plotlines for everyone in every episode. They need the plotlines they choose to write to be worth their screentime.

Sorry this was sloppily written and all that. Hopefully it makes sense. Very curious to see y’alls thoughts. Feel free to make your own posts and @ me, or reblog this or comment!

[adabofblessings]

How does Dadimus comfort each of the kids after a particularly bad day and how would they repay the favour after he has a bad day himself?

Oof! My heart!

All three of them have different ways of showing when they need comfort. Optimus is good at reading people and knows when one of his comrades is in the dumps. However, he isn't considered a comforter, per say. Millions of war has kind of taken away the basic emotions of Optimus or Orion used to have.

He still has those gentle tones and understanding empathy, but he is in no way of a physical or emotional comforter, but damn does he try when it comes to his family.

Lets start, shall we? :)

Miko

I wanna think Miko knows what she needs. Shes firm if she wants to be alone and I think Optimus knows it. However, being firm can be a huge misunderstanding sometimes. Shes firm about hanging out or doing something together, not because shes being forceful, but because she needs someone to talk to. She wants someone to listen to her and hear her. But she also knows that her friends can't always do that. And her parents are miles away from her. So where does she go?

To Optimus.

And after awhile of Miko practically pleading to him to hang out and do whatever, he starts to see how Miko expresses her needs through activities. It takes a moment and he wasn't sure why she was asking him to draw him or paint on his frame, but he realizes that she talks a lot about things team Prime don't know except him and Jack and Raf.

It really does sadden him when he sees this precious teenager go through life and have a different approach on how she expresses her challenges. Most people can't see that and it destroys them immensely. But he tries to be there every step of the way.

He always notices that Miko's hands are always doing something whenever hes with her and theres a revelation to that little hint. Its some thing that distracts her while she's pouring out her life. But Optimus knows it to keep her grounded while she's talking.

They seem to know a secret code of some sort. There's always a day where Miko will walk up to Optimus and ask him to do something, and it clicks to his processor that she needs a hearing ear. And hes always on point of that. He'll drop everything to help her. Be a ear or just someone to near her. He'll let her hang around his shoulder plate or let her hug his digit whenever she needs physical affection.

Jack

Jack is a lot like Optimus in many ways. He suffers through silence and wont talk about his difficulties. Hes never mentioned about his life problems, but everyone has breaking points and Jack is no different.

There's a moment where Jack comes to the base with tiredness etching his pale face. Arcee notices, Ratchet and then everyone does, but he flat out refuses to say anything. Stubborn boy.

Optimus is the only one that hasn't asked about what was wrong with him, because he can practically see what the boy is doing. He's no stranger to this type of suffering. It kills him inside because this suffering silence is a slow kind of painful type. It destroys from the inside and out.

He notices that Jack takes it slow and prefers it that way. It takes a lot of time but he finally cracks a little part of Jack. The fruits of his labor is finally here and he wouldn't want it any other way.

It starts out small but Optimus knows how wary Jack is with this personal information. He just nods and listens. The thing is that Jack isn't venting, he just seems lost and confused and thats what makes Optimus understand him more.

Jack is that kind of person who is always seeking for advice. Its difficult because he doesn't have a father to teach him those advices. His mom has always been his steady rock but things become unsteady when it becomes the world growing men.

And while Optimus is no where near Jack's species, he does try his best to give fatherly advice. Though it comes out natural than what Optimus think it sounds like. Jack feels a lot better after the talk between him and Optimus and rather enjoys there time together. However he isn't really the one to verbally ask for help, so Optimus always have to keep an Optic out when Jack is one of thise predicaments. They're not very affectionate but Jack does pat Optimus' pede. And though it's not much, Optimus knows that it's Jack way of affection and he cherishes it greatly.

Raf

Raf is those kids whose teachers and his parents have to go to him when hes troubled. Even though Raf will say hes fine every time someone asks him if he's okay, hes not really. It frustrates the crap out of Ratchet and it concerns Bumblebee. Eventually they'll give up and let the kid come to them, but the Prime knows;he sees it. And he doesn't like it.

The more they try to pry it out of him the more he seals his problems. He doesn't want to cause more trouble from what he's experiencing. At first, Optimus is light and soft. But then after awhile of not being able to get Raf to open up, he has to be firm. Why.

Raf is shrugging at the question and simply gives him a very vague answer. Like "just school" or "just tired" but Optimus knows that its more than that. Hes patient as ever and let's Raf play that game. Soon enough, there's a snap in Raf and it completely unfolds. He's tired, he's frustrated, he wants someone to hug him and just comfort him.

It breaks Optimus' spark but he knows that letting go will help him. He sits through the tears and frustrated talks and just listens. Soon, Optimus finds himself expressing more physical affection towards the youngest team member. He's scooping up the poor and tired boy and letting Raf rest of his tired head against his warm chassis, allowing his spark to beat soothingly against Raf's ear. It takes a lot out of the boy but he relaxes and finds himself at peace. Whenever Raf is need of attention, Optimus understand and learns that Raf is a boy and needs the affection that he lacks of. Unfortunately, Raf isn't the person to ask, so whenever he and Raf are alone, he'll scoop him up and allow the boy hang around or nap on him if he's tired.

Optimus

After hes all done dealing with lovable children, hes all alone and ready to greet the inescapable sound of silence. Hes willing to sit by himself and contemplate life and the consequences he's experienced during his long years. Unfortunately (fortunately) all three children see him alone and that will just not do! Sure, hes older than millions of lives combined but that doesn't mean that their dad won't suffer alone.

Optimus very surprised when he sees Jack, Miko and Raf climbing him and perch themselves on his shoulder. Miko and Raf wraps their arms around Optimus' face while Jack is placing a hand on the side of his faceplate. It's simple but Optimus finds himself closing his optics and leaning to their small hugs.

He feels at peace, enjoying the comforting presence of his human children. His children is all it takes for his demons to flee and it takes just a minute to feel determine to defeat this war and bring peace to his world, just as the human children gave him.

[so-nightmary-ul]

Y/N is eight-year-old Julius’s ward.

Y/N is a twenty-year-old girl from our world who died. Her soul moved into the girl’s deceased body (it looks exactly like hers in childhood), from which, as a result of an illegal experiment, magic was taken away and thereby killed her in the world of the Black Clover. Y/N retained all her memories, including the plot of the anime. Julius took custody of her (let's be honest, Y/N just had no choice).

---

How it actually happened:

You were brought to the Clover castle almost at night. Supposedly secretly.

Marx met you, and then you both went to Julius.

Surprisingly, your conversation with him wasn't in his office, but in some room with a fireplace.

You were seated in one of the armchairs. Julius was sitting in the exactly same armchair opposite you.

In short, it all happened somehow like this:

You, in your thoughts: 'Perhaps I can replay this situation in my direction. It is only necessary to invent a story, how I–'

Julius: «You have the magic seal of reincarnation on you, so I know that you most likely don't belong here. You can tell me everything.»

You:

You, worried, still in your thoughts: 'oh,  s h i–'

Apparently, he understood everything from your face, so he just laughed and offered to calm down and drink some tea.

Your bare feet, and in principle whole of you, were cold (you were in one tattered dress, in which you woke up in this world). You agreed.

During the conversation, you told him about yourself, and how did you die. You even accidentally blabbed that you know some things about their world. And only God knows why you told him all this at all. You could simply be stubbornly silent, well, or at least lie.

Maybe there was something in this tea. Maybe.

By the way, Julius even used Marx, who had been standing at the door all this time, so that he would use his Memory Magic on you. With your consent, of course.

After all this, Julius offered to stay here. By «here» he most likely meant both «in this world» and «in this castle».

Marx, in the background: «Wha– Lord Julius!»

It's not like you were paranoid, but for some reason it seemed very suspicious to you. Too good option. Too tempting offer to refuse.

But since you also weren't too stupid and understood that you don't and will not have any other shelter (besides, a child not trained in magic, there is no place safer than under the wing of the Wizard King, right?), you agreed.

Although you had a growing feeling that you had just, like a nice little girl, been wrapped around little finger.

But it was necessary to come up with a story of how the hell a poor eight-year-old girl settled in the Clover castle (and not by order of someone, but by the Wizard King!).

What options just didn't sound! And the niece, and the extramarital daughter (Marx: «Lord Julius, PLEASE, everything but not THIS!»     You: «Extramarital? So you have children from marriage?»     Julius: «WAIT, THIS IS NOT WHAT I MEANT–»), and the goddaughter, and the student, and the adopted daughter.

You all agreed on a ward, who was left alone after the death of one of Julius’s close friends, and over whom he took custody in memory of this friend.

You mentally apologized to Zora and his father.

After that you all parted. Marx took you to the guest room, wished you a good night, and left.

In this way, you turned out to be the ward of Julius Novachrono, the 28th Wizard King.

Being in the world of the Black Clover:

The next morning, you were PRETTY sure that you were simply wrapped around little finger, without even a choice.

Therefore, the first thing you did when Julius took custody of you was making a deal with him. He works for at least a couple of hours, and you tell him a little about magic from other worlds (anime, manga, TV shows, and etc) for twenty minutes. And then everything repeats.

So that he doesn't think that life is sweet, and Marx has less stress. After all, it’s can't be just only one Julius who's being cunning, right?

But then you realized that this deal was even profitable for him. Because Julius was ready to do a lot for the knowledge about magic. And given the fact that now he knows that you know what kind of person he is…

You realized that you had been wrapped around little finger by the same person twice already.

After that, you gave up trying to somehow outwit the Wizard King. Mission is impossible.

However, now, even though earlier Marx didn't agree with the idea of ​​leaving you in the Clover castle, he is ready to take his words back. Your new ally in this world.

---

Sometime later, you already began to curse your little body. Because with such height it was very difficult to reach something. And you didn't want to call someone and ask to reach it, because

You: «EVEN IF I AM IN A CHILDREN’S BODY, IN THE SOUL I AM ALMOST TWENTY ONE YEAR! I AM A PROUD INDEPENDENT WOMAN!»

You:

You: «…and this proud independent woman is a little ashamed.»

In addition, you considered yourself smart enough to build a stable construction and reach something by yourself. And when you finally took the thing you needed in your hands, you realized that you weren’t smart enough to think about how to get down from this construction before climbing on it. And there was nobody around.

In this way, you met Owen, the royal healer. Because jumping from four large and tall chairs onto a slippery tiled floor with a scream «BANZAI!» was definitely not your best idea.

Marx, who came at the call of the servants: «Y/N! How did this even happen?! I understand that you might need a chair to reach something, if nobody is around, but…»

You: «It was a bookcase.»

Marx: «…FOUR chairs?!»

You: «It was a HIGH bookcase, and the book was almost on the top shelf.»

Marx:

Owen:

You:

You: «I'm sorry, this will not happen again…»

In general, you were remembered by the royal healer as a quite smart little troublemaker.

---

At first you were afraid to leave the room once again, and if you left, you tried not to encounter people. But then you sent everything to the devi– hell. They can't blame you for anything.

We all know that Julius is 42 years old. Men at this age are usually tend to splashing out their paternal instinct on someone small, like a child (even if the body of this child contains the soul of a deceased and reincarnated twenty-year-old girl from another world, yeah). In general, that's why Julius gives out some EXTRA attention to you.

And even if, when he pampers you or has some baby-talk with you, your gaze literally told «what the hell are you doing». It breaks his little, poor, fatherly heart a little.

By the way, after Julius heard about your healing from Owen, he asked the servants to collect, according to your instructions, the books that you would like to read. A mini library in your room.

In general, you suspected that a child’s body sometimes still somehow affects your mind. Like «child mod». Because the former you would think twice– no, three times before doing something like that. You haven't seen another explanation.

Since there was absolutely nothing for you to do in this world, everything you did around the clock was walking around the territory of the Clover castle, reading, and sometimes talking with Julius outside his working hours.

By the way, the first time you opened a book, you realized that you don't understand almost a single letter. And you were surprised to find a book with the alphabet and basic grammar rules in the royal library (exhale, Marx, it was at an accessible height). Apparently, there is really everything in this all-praised royal library.

Julius was really upset that you didn't give him a chance to teach you how to read and write, since you did it by yourself.

But then you discovered drawing, and that was all.

DrAwInG fOr EvErYoNe

Yes, Marx, and for you.

Yes, Julius, and for you too. Don't make such a sad look.

By the way, about one of the consequences of Owen’s healing. You were ashamed of such childish rash behavior. Especially in front of Marx. Therefore, since then, sometimes you ask him for some work for yourself to at least help him a little with his work. Usually it's just taking something to someone, that is, the work of a messenger.

+1000 to Marx’s respect

There are days when Julius’s fatherly instinct pierces the sky. On such days, he comes to wake you up, although you usually wake up on your own. Then you have breakfast together (and Novachrono will not miss the chance to softly joke on you for something). You go to his office, where he works, and you either sit on his lap or draw or read while sitting next to him. Have lunch and dinner together. Then, by nightfall, Julius reads something out loud to you, like fairy tales, and can even kiss you on the forehead.

This is very kind of you, Julius.

But please don't do this anymore.

Julius doesn't hear your thoughts and sometimes continues to do so.

Once you got a little sick, and it was a  c h a o s.

Then was your Birthday. Just a few months later. And there are two options for the development of event: 1) you don't tell them about it, and they somehow know about it themselves (it's impossible to hide something from the Wizard King)  —>  Julius’s fatherly instinct is sounding an alarm  —> literally the best Birthday; 2) you tell them about it  —>  Julius’s fatherly instinct is sounding the alarm  —> literally the best Birthday. In the end, it all ends the same way.

At some point, it dawned on you that you feel like Asta, looking at people using their magic.

SORRY, JULIUS, BUT WE NEED TO TALK

SAY NO MORE, HE WAS BORN READY FOR THIS

Although the body of the girl, which was occupied by your soul, was emptied of magic, apparently, this didn't apply to your soul.

No matter what your type of magic is, this man is THRILLED.

Then the holy  c a n o n  and the intrigues of the Eye of the Midnight Sun began, during which you, singing a quiet melody, painted «Licht» and his three-eyed gang. Then, with a sweet smile on your face and a creepy chuckle, painted over the whole sheet with black paint. And then burned this sheet in the fireplace.

Even knowing what would happen with Julius during the insurrection of the elves, it was painful.

Well, Julius’s fatherly instinct was now more like the older brother’s instinct. It bothered you a lot less. It, obviously, suited you more.

Now you and Julius are a team. Team We-do-not-look-at-our-chronological-age LOL

The captains of the Orders of the Magic Knights:

You didn't plan to meet with the captains of the orders for at least some more time, but then they had a meeting, and at the same time you mistaken the door, and here we are.

Frightened, when all eyes turned sharply on you, you wanted to apologize and quickly get out, but then Julius said cheerfully: «Oh, Y/N, it's you! Feel free to come in! Oh yes, you are not familiar. This is Y/N. She is my ward.»

Novachrono (the cunning, as he is) didn't even try to conceal you.

The first phrase, which instantly ended the dead silence in the room, belonged to the captain of the Black Bull.

Yami: «Damn, old man, when did you have time?»

Hearing «ward», they ALL thought not about what Julius really meant. But Sukehiro voiced this idea first and only.

You almost started to make excuses, but Julius spoke first in time. He explained the situation to them, and for some reason almost all the captains exhaled synchronously with relief.

The meeting could be officially considered interrupted, because c'mon, guys, this is the ward of the Wizard King.

If you are an introvert and don't like large crowds, then RIP

---

Rill was the first to come, as, apparently, the youngest of them. He began to chatter quickly and indistinctly, at the same time shaking your hands. From his monologue, you only understood that he was the captain of the Azure Deer, that he was nineteen, and that he was very glad to see you. Upon knowing that you like to draw (You, in your thoughts: 'It's not like I like it, I just don't even have much to do'), he began to speak even more merrily and to shake hands more intensely. Charlotte saved you from a dislocation of both arms. Stepping closer, she told Rill to stop, after what he, upset, fell behind.

You and Charlotte just stared at each other for a while. But then you had the urge to poke a finger into her cloak and say: «This is my favorite color.» After that, her face twitched for a second, and then she smiled a little. Charlotte gave you a blue rose created by her magic. When, having accepted the flower, you smiled broadly at the woman (you really like blue roses), the sound of a cracked heart was heard by you. But you still don't understand who it was coming from: Julius or Charlotte.

«Oh God, queen of thorns, what kind of expression that was now? Is your nerve pinched?» it was that phrase with which Yami came up to the two of you. Charlotte blushed, you looked at Sukehiro’s formidable face (he was your favorite character in the anime because of his jokes). When you coughed because of tobacco smoke, someone instantly exclaimed: «YAMI, PUT OUT THE CIGARETTE.» He was dissatisfied, but didn't put it out, but just moved away. This upset you a little.

Jack is creepy by himself, and now that you are standing right in front of him, and he, with his enormous height, hangs over you, you were scared three times more. You really froze, thinking that if Jack confuses you with a statue, he will lose interest in you. You could well have passed out because of fear, but Fuegoleon saved the situation.

He greeted you fairly adequately, asked for your name, and then called his. You thought that he was raising Leopold, so he has some communication skills with children. But Fuegoleon was strangely curious (which you thought was especially unusual for him). He asked about your hobbies, magic, and how do you generally live in the Clover castle. You liked to communicate with him.

Nozel didn't even get up from his place, content with what he was observing from the side. He only said (quite proudly) his name and then asked about your past parents. Julius answered him for you, on the go inventing that they were not from the nobility and other. Knowing that you're not from the nobility, he seems to have quickly lost interest.

William was the last to come. He squatted in front of you (the only one, by the way) and, smiling, called his name. Julius whispered to you: «William loves kids.» Knowing the plot of the Black Clover, you also smiled awkwardly at him, clutching Charlotte’s rose more tightly in your hands. You looked intently into his eyes, apparently trying to find something of Patri’s soul, but failed. And then you realized that for a long time you was indecently staring at a person and hastened to make excuses, blurting out the first thing that came to mind: «You have beautiful eyes.» William was surprised at first, but then again smiled only somehow differently. You thought you would die because of shame.

Dorothy and Gueldre didn't talk to you much. Well, that is, Unsworth snuffle something, but you didn't understand anything. And Poizot silently looked at you somehow strange, because of what you quickly looked away. These were the eyes of a crook merchant.

A few headcanons about the captains:

If you think Julius’s fatherly care is the most awkward care you ever received, then take your words back immediately.

One of the captains could well lend you one of their Magic Knights, if you need to go, for example, to the city.

Sometimes you and Rill draw together. Honestly, you're a little depressed by the fact that he draws 100 times better than you. And if you suddenly get the opportunity to be with him when he uses his magic, the «child mod» is switched-on in you, and you start to advise him what to draw in order to win. There is no need to say that he likes you very much, right?

At one point, Charlotte realized that you looked a bit like Yami. She, you and Yami appeared in her head. F A M I L Y. Charlotte’s heart cracked a second time.

At first, Sukehiro for some reason didn't like you too much. But then, when you became interested in his katana and muscles, perhaps he became more favorable a little. Perhaps.

You still stare a little suspiciously at William when you see him. Absolutely unaware of what was going on in his head.

Patri, don't make such face. Yes, she has the magic seal of reincarnation on her. Patri?.. PATRI, DON'T YOU DARE–

But William knows how to make good wood figures.

If one day someone decides to kidnap you or something, he is better off using all the luck he has. Because when he blunders, no one will ever see him again.

You really like spending time in the World of Dreams with Dorothy.

At some point, you became aware of yourself braiding Fuegoleon’s hair. You wanted to pinch yourself to make sure that it was just a dream, but decided to still watch this fascinating dream, while there is a chance.

Soon you realized that you were not sleeping.

You gave almost all of them a drawing of themselves.

[hunnybadgerv]

Writer Ask Meme 3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing? 10. Pick an author (or writing friend) to co-write a book with 12. Which story (or: stories) of yours do you like best? why? 17. What things (scenes/topics/character types) are you most comfortable writing? 29. Is writing more of a hobby or do you write with the intention of getting published? 36. Post a snippet 49. Favorite fictional world?

Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing: 30 Questions for Authors

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing?  Getting started. Once I’m writing, I can usually find the zone. But it’s getting started that is always the hardest for me. Like this morning, I didn’t know where to even start. So, I opted to edit, since it is something I wanted to accomplish this week. And I know that in the revision process I also tend to refine my prose, i.e., write, so my editing and writing work today coincided. 

I have, however, written every day this month and I’m hoping to continue that trend. But regardless of the time of day, getting started tends to be my biggest obstacle overall. 

10. Pick an author (or writing friend) to co-write a book with. Must it only be one? Gosh. 

There are so many great writers I know, more than I could ever even try to consider for this.  

I’ve always admired @theoriginalladya for the uniqueness of her ideas and character development are second to none; I equally love and hate when she and I talk about her characters because I get super excited about them because of how amazing they are. Then I quickly become obsessed, which may or may not be the only “bad” thing. @painterofhorizons has angst super powers; even in a snippet of text she can rip your soul clean from your body. Her writing is so evocative and emotionally striking. Then there is @chyrstis, whose ability to seamlessly weave humor into her fics sparks more than envy. She manages to put characters into such believable, yet laughable situations that it only serves to endear them to readers. 

I’m not sure I could ever co-write a piece, but I would count myself lucky to write with any of the writers I regularly associate with, especially one of these three. Apologies to all the amazing writers I know who I did not mention by name, but I already didn’t follow the question in the first place by mentioning three rather than a single one. 

12. Which story (or: stories) of yours do you like best? why?  Oh gosh. This is so cruel. One story! Really? That’s all. Honestly, First Watch of the Night (Guardians in the Darkness Series) is one of my favorite. I think that might be in part because of nostalgia--it is Nyx Shepard’s WIP. I actually have it planned all the way through ME3, though I’ve currently stalled in the revision process in the ME1 timeline. I’m not sure why either. 

I find myself wondering if the reason I have not finished it is because once I know what happens, maybe I won’t have the drive to finish writing it. Maybe I can’t get past the block because I’m worried that finishing their story will vacate those muses from my mind, which I kind of don’t want. I really have grown quite attached to Nyx, Kaidan, and her crew. 

Honestly, I think that might be the struggle I end up in with all my longer fics. Short fics in collection are so much easier because the story never has to end. A long fic follows a certain line and has a definite conclusion, which I think worries me.

17. What things (scenes/topics/character types) are you most comfortable writing?  Umm, If you were to look at characters like Tayen Quick, Nyx and Feign Shepard, Furia, Remy McGinnis, Mari Ryder, Cyna Mahariel, and Laerke, you’d see a common thread connecting them. I tend enjoy writing strong female characters, especially those that are flawed or broken in some way. Honestly, Nyx and Furia, also to some extent Leah Rook, all share imposter syndrome to one degree or another--so does Mari. I always tend to have one or two characters that share a flaw. I have Mari, Laerke, and Furia who have all lost their entire families. Characters that come from big families. But I tend to write female protagonists more so than males. 

29. Is writing more of a hobby or do you write with the intention of getting published?  I published a short story in college. And I really would like to be published some day. Right now, I am mostly writing for me. I’ve got original fiction ideas, but I don’t work on them currently. I focus on my fandom work in order to practice and hone the skills and plans I have for future pieces.

I want to write something in the mix of fantasy/sci-fi. But I also have a strong sense of realism. I still hold tight to Mark Twain’s statement that the difference between real life and fiction is that fiction has to make sense. Things have to stem logically from one another in a story, and I always try to ground my writing in experience--sights, smells, sounds, textures that my readers can be familiar with--in order to add some sense of connection. I try to make my characters flawed in ways that feel accurate to them. 

A part of me screams in the back of my head that I am a writer. I can be an author, but a part of me worries that perhaps it may not happen. I keep writing. And I keep trying new things. I’ll always be a storyteller. I will keep writing and falling in love with fictional beings and places that I cannot resist exploring.

36. Post a snippet  This is from First Watch of the Night. I really love the characters and depth I managed to capture in this piece. Honestly, it’s one of the pieces of my own writing that intimidates me ... a lot. I don’t write the same way anymore. I feel like my writing lacks the same emotional depth right now. And I’m not sure why. It might have to do with how disconnected from other humans I have been in the last decade.

The scene here is Nyx Shepard and her father from Chapter 18:

The two Shepards watched one another for a long moment, before Taranis returned his attention to one of the soft cherries. The commander sighed, sipping her tea quietly while the captain waited. It was his usual tactic. He knew there was more and he could always wait her out. Nyx would talk to him in her own time, even if it had to be in carefully crafted abstractions. His daughter knew the drill. Taranis' methods were nothing new to her. He would take long pauses, allowing her to consider all the things she was not telling him. Then he would ask careful questions in case it was actually related to her current or a classified assignment--since need to know could interfere with her desire to disclose and his fatherly curiosity.

Whatever it was, Nyx held onto it much longer than usual, which told him she really did not want to bring it up. Despite this, Taranis knew she would relent because she kept glancing over at him with a look that suggested she was merely trying to find the way to bring it up. Nyx always came first for him; he redirected his career to give her the life she had, a life where there was always one parent there to hold her tight when things weren't just so. He knew it was not perfect, but he did everything he could to be there for her.

Nyx sighed as she set the tea cup on the table between them. "Fine," she breathed heavily.

It took another few moments for her to look up at him. Then she scooted a little closer, lowering her voice in discretion. Watching her carefully Taranis could not quite be sure what she was going to say, but she bit her lip and winced a little when she finally asked a question he never expected to hear.

"What did you do when you met Mom?"

Everything froze for a second or two as he stared at her. The little blush on her cheeks threw her father for a loop, but made him smile. "Well, damn."

The commander shook her head at him, trying to discourage him from thinking too hard about what she had just asked.

"Answer the question, please."

Captain Taranis Shepard rubbed his hand through the short stubble on the back of his head as he stared at his daughter in stunned silence. "I avoided her. Tried to just keep my distance. I even put in for a transfer," he admitted with a wry smile. "It got denied because I did not put in what command thought was a valid reason. Then, on leave, I talked to your Grandpa Shepard about it."

Nyx smiled and laughed. "And what did the old devil dog have to say about that?"

Her voice held a note of disbelief that her father was not surprised to hear. Taranis' father was a stickler for rules, regulations, expectations. He was strict and set high expectations. The captain could tell by the way his daughter eyed the dregs in her tea cup that she was as completely unprepared for what her father was about to say as Taranis had been when he heard it.

"He told me it was not a weakness to want someone to be part of your life."

Nyx's eyes darted to his. She was easily as shocked as he had been. Moving the tea cup, Taranis laid her hand out in his and covered it with the other.

"I told him all the things, I'm pretty sure you're telling yourself right now. All the excuses about regs, concerns, and bad experiences and stories you've heard," Taranis said quietly as he stroked the back of her hand lightly.

She leaned toward him. Her voice was tight with emotion. "And?"

Holding her hand tightly, her father smiled at her softly. "He told me that there are some things that outweigh the regs."

They were both quiet for a moment as Nyx let herself fall back in the chair. Her mind was clearly racing. Kirk Shepard had always stern, at best; he still was totally by the book in everything except when he met his wife. That was the only rule Taranis could think of his father ever even bending, let alone breaking out right. Nyx had been very close with both her grandfathers; she respected them as men and as marines. For her they were role models, people she that influenced her greatly.

"I'm going to tell you something you probably don't know. My parents met in the service, too. We Shepards seem to fall for our brethren," he said playfully. Nyx did not look relieved in the slightest. "He almost lost her on a mission. Even in love, your grandfather was still the same man. He couldn't justify risking the primary objective. The mission at all costs, you know?"

Taranis knew she understood it. Hell, he knew she lived that decree just as solidly as his father.

"She made it out alive, barely. Your grandfather, sentimental bastard, proposed to her when she woke up from surgery. Grandma Amelie was just as stoic as he was. Told him she would consider it, but only if he promised to do always put the mission first, even if she was in his command. She believed him when he said he would. Even lived up to it. Had to put her at risk once more in the field before they got married."

"And he told you this when you asked him about Mom?"

"Yep," Taranis said, nodding as he studied his daughter's reaction. "I was rather hoping I wouldn't have to tell it to you, but I guess it was too much to hope you'd break the trend of falling for servicemen."

She shrugged and looked at their hands for a long moment. "Seemed to be going well for a while," Nyx said quietly.

"Just tell me it's not the Zingel kid."

Her laugh made him smile, and brightened her eyes. "No, it's not Caz."

Taranis leaned back in his chair, fidgeting with his uniform for a moment. "So, tell me something about this fella."

The way she tilted her head at him suggested that the question might have been her maximum.

"At least tell me his name so I can start checking up and get a little peace."

"Da."

"Fine." Taranis let his hands fall on the arms of his chair. "Don't relieve your old father of the undue stress he is now placed under worrying about what kind of man his plucking his daughter's heart strings."

"Seriously?" she replied with a doubtful look.

They both knew she did not see herself as the type of woman who was plucked, but Taranis had a long and vivid memory and he could still recall the girl with the romantic sensibilities.

"What? I remember the shelves of Austen, Gaskell, and the Brontes. Then there were the sonnets your grandmother always sent you. And if I recall you were planning on marrying Captain Wentworth." He tilted his head at her slightly. "Perhaps I should have seen this coming after all."

They both laughed. Then Nyx sprang forward and hugged her father around the neck. "I've missed you, Da."

"I love you, Nyxy-girl."

Her lips were warm on his cheek. "Love you, too," she repeated before she stood. "I should probably go."

"We should do this again," her father offered, as he stood and proffered his arm. "Soon."

His daughter smiled and looked away for a moment. "Sure. As soon as I can."

Once they exited the little shop, they stopped and he touched her cheek before he bent and kissed her forehead again. He did not like her chosen phrase. Taranis knew she meant it, but he also knew the schedule she had kept for the past several years and there was little hope of relief given the most recent change.

"I'd prefer sooner," he noted.

It always killed him to say what he said next, the phrase was tradition, but always made his heart ache because he knew there was always a chance that he could lose his girl in the line of duty. He had been in her boots and hung them up for her. She had taken them up with fervor and so much more skill and determination than Taranis ever possessed.

"Good hunting, Commander," he said, a waver in his voice, as he saluted her sharply.

Nyx returned it as smartly as she would to an admiral. "Thank you Captain."

Taranis watched the girl with her mother's hair and his eyes weave through the crowds in the wards. He remembered meeting a boy once, at her basic graduation. Keith or Kyle or something that started with a K. He managed to stick around until a few months after her graduation from Exeter. Somehow the kid had stuck it out through three mission deployments before the relationship ended without so much as a whimper. The captain could not remember his name or much else about him. Even after a few years together, his daughter never hinted at the question she just asked. It elated and scared the hell out of him.

49. Favorite fictional world?  I really enjoy writing ME and in SWTOR. They are amazing worlds full of science, magic, adventure, and drama. Though I’m also drawn to fantasy for the same reasons. But I think futuristic worlds and space are some of my favorites.

[randomliven]

WARNING LONG POST HEAVY SPOILERS

Episode4. Play back rewatch

*Open scene Montrose

*Drinking. Going through the memories of his mind

He drinks and still he remembers it all

*God Smites Eve

*2:12 "Give this to tic protect our family" GEORGE

*The Order of the ancient dawn

*You might be all Tic has left

*"Smells like Tulsa

*Bitcx better have my money

*Christina glides through cars

* Black arrow (nods it off)

*leti was ready

*Bitcx tried to walk in like she own the place

*the protection spell works 'akirum

She seemed impressed and snide

*your money (leti realizes where the money came from

**L: "You want something in this house. Something to. do with Atticus"

**Ct: "Dont let the men fool you into thinking its Always about them. "

**His blood may have power but thats only because itus spelled it that way. Hes Not Special. Not really

Christina is a Snitch

*"If he keeps operating like this hes going to get you killed "Again"

(she looks sincere) (im telling yall xtina did this before)

* "I dont want that. Or this house. I just want the orrery"

(To discover a world of first) (chritina dont lie withold yes)

You can get the Fuck up off my Porch

Call me

*Hippolyta calls her daddy... She has the Orrery

She smart as hell

*The new comic diana drawing..outta this universe

Moves and predicts the relative position of planets

*leti tells tic about tina paying for house

*Tic with holds information from leti

*knows tina used tic to kill father

tic was go kill her then just leave

Lil boy with Coke bottle glasses ( just like tic but not tic

*two sets of pages still exist

*the orrery is the key

(using the orrery to go into another world to find his pages)

Titus kept it hidden

*Casting spells to protect

*ask ya daddy " i dont want yall involved"

(Sound like his daddy when they saved him)

They in the back

Every time i tell you to do something yo do the opposite

*" how you kno its 34 lodges"

*"I cant help you kill yourself. You cant see this game she is setting up for you to play"

(Montrose and Christina have done this before.. I cant wait till the final. I need to kno)

*"Looking for answers you already have"

Boston

*"I know where to find that dame vault"

Christina plays hide and seek for the first time

Christina screaming "Im safe."

The police arrive for her to take her to ...

Lancaster

*She didnt mention leti being in the house specie or tic

Says convince "hyrum"

*she knows there is someone in the closet right away

*xtina says time machine

* " let "negros" move in..(vs niggers) cocky

Take my lodges

*did i miss your initiation into the order..

No cunts allowed

The silent fight

Let go. You told me to let go

Hyp suspicious

It so happens to be at a astrology museum

Tree

Ruby walks into Marshal fields

"Work like kobe just to shine like Russel"

Sees Tamara

"Yes yesterday"

"I applied on a whim"

Boston

Lights of the universe

Leti's face watching rose go with the guard

*"u kno y they call me tree"

"Shouldnt i already kno that since we fuc in highschool simore" rolls eye at that liar

True story: Harriet chariot

*MY MAMA NAMED THAT COMET

*Many artefacts Titus was giving in exchange for striping away everything they knew

(Stolen after killing, probably raping and enslaving the native people)

*tree hints at Montrose being gay to tic

Tic questions how mon knows the guard

The vault

*Christina pulls up goes around the gate

(William comes out 30seconds later, yes we kno the skin change happens in seconds seeing ruby change, BUT HOW IN THE HELL did xtina put on a whole suite down to the tie that quick)

Do they not kno william cuz then lancaster wouldnt have known it wasnt xtina when he dies.

She kick they ass

*William says i have a Date

Find a way to open it

Montrose finds the moonlight

How old is this museum

*"This is some journey to the center of the earth type shit"(name of book coke bottle kid in library was reading)

3tunnels

Ever the tide shall rise

Map of titus voyage's..

No telling Letitia fuc N lewis No

Dont help me

Yellow

*Based on adventure novels the tunnels should be based on the map.

*How you know he raided Diana

"I read a damn book

*1810 it was built

Established the sons of Adam 3yrs later

*Whats down the other tunnel?

The lantern being there

Ruby drowning her blues away to a half empty bar

Is copper considered a yellow

Voluptuousness

*I cant afford another one

Blues eyes got ya tab tonight

*A nod. A gulp

*"May i join you?" They dont sit

Keep my glass full"...

*Yall white boys dont come to the dark side for modesty (demanding woman

* i can buy my own drinks ( pride)

Take a bit more to impress me White Boy

*Never insult you to make you a kept woman

* promise me the world to lay with me

*a promise i can keep

(All she needs is the orrery & she literally can give Ruby Many worlds)

The way they look at Ruby

*20min of walking

Walking the plank

Tic brave

Tf me 1st

Learned how to lie

*juneteenth

* "FREEMEN WERE NEVER SLAVES"

She out there

Spider senses

Tic has training

Booby trap

Big fucking deal

The bored starts to disappear

Jump pop

Better catch me Boy. (I got ya kid)

Now they can run shuffle

Montrose knows the combination

Jessie owens

*The tide rising.. Less than an hr

Ruby "got there 1st, shoulda been me but i let Leti distract me"

They sat there all night

*"Whoes leti"

(i dont think Christina knew leti Nd Ruby were sisters before that moment based on willtinas expression

*"my half sister" (willtina Gulps (becoming a signature

* if i was in your skin i wouldnt even have to run"

*what to do about it?

William with them eyes.

*"Better stop looking at me like that, It Aint happening

White Boy"

I Put a Spell on You plays

Ruby want it

(Im more than sure this is Willtinas 1st time, also wonder if so as a woman. Possible leti was a virgin)

Willtina looked confused by the blood. Primal reaction

Ruby in control

William excited, whoa lip biting

The mark of Cain. Big Dic Energy

*" How you kno so much about the sons of adam?"

* george gave me the bylaws i burned it

My brother said protect the family. His dying wish

(Was to give Tic the book, but you cant tell Montrose what to do with his son)

Closing Pandoras box once Nd for good

You wont stop

*Leti finds the neighbors body who went missing

*Chicago to Boston 14hr drive

(They walk 20min to the plank maybe another 20 to yahima)

*sees elevator come down, looks familiar

*Epistien was apart of the order prob chasing the pages... He was missing an arm

This might get dangerous

*he was kidnapped. I Died.

*"not the center of the fucking universe"

Leti can swim too

*Fatherly advice

Ya mama was complicated too

*all that fussing is loving

*Epstein day look like he was missing an arm and like a drowned victim

I don't think Christina knew about the tunnels or at least she knew that she couldn't open them

Black folk dont watch bones come alive & just stare

*reaches. (Back the fuc up

* they have the same symbol on their stomach. The Regeneration spell

*yahima Woman man two spirit

*had no reason to distrust him

ALWAYS HUNGRY

*he killed them all (stole they shii) enslaved

Tic look like Will Smith as a fish in shark tail

*she dont know my spirit

Montrose Takes pages anyway (i think knowing booby trap)

. Grabs yama

*montrose drops the pages purposefully

Like damn leti. Grabbing for her

The kiss. The scream. The knockout

*how did they get back without woodie

*is that your dad's atlas

*devon county circled. Ardum reaper. Hyp makes a detour

*siren. Ill figure out how to help her talk

*"You were brave boy. Grew to be a good man spite me"

*he already had the plan

Damn montrose

[missbrightsky]

I didn’t know where else to go

Fics Masterlist 

Previous Chapter

Chapter 5: Feyre

“Alright, Feyre, it’s Friday night, what clubs are we hitting up?” Lucien perched on my desk, nudging me with his knee.

“Home,” I said, not breaking eye contact with the screen, closing out my windows for the day.

“What?” he exclaimed, “Lame. Come out with me.”

“No, I want to go home and lick my wounds,” adding a tinge of frustration to my tone. Please buy the lie.

“Then I’ll join you,” he offered, readying himself to leave.

Shit. “No, you should go out,” I insisted, “What about texting that girl…,” I racked my brain for her name, “Vassa.”

Lucien turned an embarrassing shade of red and shifted uncomfortably. I quirked an eyebrow, finally turning towards him. It was easier to lie to Lucien when he was the one being interrogated.

“I, um,” he cleared his throat, still not meeting my eyes.

“Mmmhhmmm,” I hummed, “It’s unlike you to back down from a challenge.”

“I’m not backing down,” he blurted, wincing at the volume of his voice. “I’m not backing down,” he repeated. “I’m just…”

I barked a laugh; it was rare to see his so unbalanced when it came to women. I patted him reassuringly on the knee. “Text her, go out tonight. Trust me, she was into you last I saw.”

“Because you’re all-knowing when it comes to dating?” he retorted. I knew exactly who he was referring to.

“Not cool,” I shot back at him. Lucien knew why Tamlin and I broke up, supported it even though Tamlin was Lucien’s best friend.

“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, having the good sense to look sheepishly apologetic. “It’s fine,” I said, shaking off the memories. “It’s far in the past.” I smiled to show him that the barb didn’t dig in deep. “Text her.” I patted him one more time on the knee and then gathered up my jacket and bag. “And text me tomorrow morning with the tea.”

“Asshole,” he muttered.

“Sorry?” I cupped my hand around my ear, leaning in, “What was that?”

“Asshole,” he said louder but with a grin that told me that I won.

We walked towards the elevator together, calling out our goodbyes for the weekend. On the brief ride down, I snuck a glance over at Lucien who was preoccupied with typing, and then deleting, a text message.

“You are ridiculous,” I growled, swiping his phone away.

“Hey!” he yelped, using his taller frame to lean over me and try and grab his phone back. I shoved my shoulder into his chest, muscling him away. Lucien may have the height advantage but that had never stopped me. He huffed a grunt and the pressure lessened on me.

I typed out a short and simple message and handed his phone back.

“’Haven’t seen you in a while, want to grab dinner?’” he read out loud. “Really, Feyre,” practically whining my name, “Could you have been any more direct?”

“You’re welcome,” I said, nodding towards to new message that buzzed.

He grumbled his thanks, not looking very grateful. We stepped out of the elevator, him now hunched over his phone, firing off back and forth with her. The fresh autumn air greeted us, blowing us in different directions. Lucien waved a brief goodbye, now completely engrossed in conversation. Well that got him off my back for the night.

I checked my watch. 7:00, barely enough time to get to dinner at Rhys’s.

The subway was packed with young and old, most commuting home for the night, but some were already dressed for an evening out, ready to take advantage of Velaris’s many restaurants and night clubs. If I hadn’t been such a dumbass and gotten the shit beat out of me, I would be a part of that crowd with Lucien.

We’d both met when we were beat cops, starting out fresh from the academy. Our first impressions of each other were… not good. He had been closed off and sullen, no more than a boy who had finally escaped his fathers’ thumb. Beron Vanserra was notorious in Velaris for being one of the top corporate lawyers. Had his own practice run by him and his sons. All except one. I made the mistake of recognizing his last name and mouthing off some comment about being a coddled rich boy. It was enough that he snarled in my face, telling me that I had no right to make assumptions about his life. The ugly shouting match that followed had earned us a joint night patrol for six months. Helion stated that if we had that much energy to fight with each other, we had enough energy to take the overnight shift.

It wasn’t until the last month of the rotation that we finally bonded over midnight tacos and coffee. He shared the pressures of being the son of a cruel and corrupt father, the only one of seven brothers who didn’t fall in line. I told him of how my mother was murdered when I was young, leaving me to try to keep my father and sisters moving forward. I joked that it was a cliché reason to become a cop but Lucien stopped me.

“I saw how my father treated my mother when no one else was around. I wanted to become someone who had the authority to help those that can’t,” his eyes were hard with hatred, but tears threatened the edges of them.

We’d both realized that we had wretched childhoods and could do more good working together. Helion saw the change in our relationship and made us permanent partners, giving us a small nod of fatherly approval at our friendship. Four years later and we both got promoted to detective.

It was hard to hide what had happened with Rhys, and that I was now working with him. Not only hard because Lucien was a bloodhound with lies, but also because he was my best friend and I hated lying to him.

I took a deep breath to shake myself out of the bitter turn my mind had taken. I doubled checked my map, nearly missing the stop I had to get off of.

The walk to Rhys’s place had my shoulders tense, every sound sharped my wariness. I didn’t know if those men from two nights ago were around and ready to finish the job.

Turning into his alley allowed me to relax fractionally against my better judgment. I was walking into the lair of my enemy to have dinner with him and his family to discuss how to bring down a different enemy that I know nothing about. I don’t want to know how many laws I’m breaking right now.

I knocked on the door, its hollow metallic noise carrying through the space beyond. To my surprise, the noise of a scuffle and irritated voices answered. My hand twitched to my gun holstered at my hip, a reflex well-trained into me. I widened my stance, ready to burst through the door or fight whoever was about to come through.

Rhys flung the door open, still glaring at whoever was behind him before turning to me. “Feyre, darling. Welcome back. Could you look any more like a cop right now?”

I relaxed my stance, letting my hand slide from my gun, “Fuck off.”

His mouth split into a wide grin, delight lit his eyes. He gestured for me to enter with a flourish, causing me to roll my eyes. I stepped inside, scanning for the source of the scuffle that had happened moments before.

“Hi!” a bright voice startled me from behind. I turned on my heel, coming face to face with a blonde who was maybe three inches away. Before I had a chance to either back away or introduce myself, I was enveloped in a tight hug.

“Rhys has told me so much about you but for obvious reasons I couldn’t meet you until now,” she chattered in my ear, the tone bubbly and mildly annoyed.

“Mor,” Rhys groaned, “Let her go.”

“Ugh, fine,” releasing me but didn’t go far. She continued to smile at me, no trace of dangerous crime leader around her.

Morrigan Solis. Rhys’s third in command and cousin. She was nothing like what I expected. Our reports touted her stone-cold reputation for being a woman who didn’t take no for an answer.

I recovered fast in the face of this shock, feeling alarmingly disarmed by her. “I didn’t realize Rhys talked about me this much. Makes me feel bad that I never mention him to my friends.” Mor threw her head back and laughed while Rhys groaned again in the background, cursing out Mor under his breath. More laugher came from the kitchen, this one low and throaty.

“How come Mor is the only one with all the information?” I turned to see a man pouring wine from a decanter, pouting at Rhys.

“Because she bugs it out of me. You’re usually too busy kissing your muscles to get that far,” Rhys shot back easily.

I recognized Cassian Noc spitting out wine at the words. The ruthless leader of Veritas’s street troops. Ruthless, but a major inspiration of the loyalty in the gang.

“That’s a good look on you, Cas,” Mor commented, moving to refill her own wineglass.

A cold shiver ran down my spine, the weight of a gaze settling on me. Some long-buried primal instinct had me turning slowly like prey avoiding detection to find the source of it. There sitting on the couch was Amren Monsea, blood-red nails encircling a crystal tumbler of amber liquid. Grey eyes so light they could be called silver stripped down the layers of my mortal flesh until she could see the soul beneath it.

Rhys’s second in command. Unlike the others that were completely opposite of what I expected, she was a thousand times worse. My mouth dried up; my heart stumbled into a gallop.

“Quit it, Amren,” a soft voice said at my left. I hadn’t realized that Rhys had stepped up to my shoulder, his warmth bringing me back into my body.

Amren’s eyes flickered to his and blinked, all otherworldly sense falling away, releasing me from her trance.

“Just testing her meddle. We’ll work on it,” she said with a serpentine smile. “She will have to be able to face Amarantha.”

Rhys opened his mouth but Mor appeared at my other shoulder, pressing a glass of wine into my hand. “Ignore Amren, once you get to know her, she’s a doting aunt.”

A hiss came from Amren, which even half-hearted, still did nothing to dispel my wariness of her.

Mor released a dramatic sign, dispelling the rest of the tension. “Everyone wants to talk, talk, talk. Can’t we eat, eat, eat and then talk?” she started herding us to the table where food was already laid out. Mor took a seat and prompted me to take the one to her right. I slid in and realized that I had sandwiched myself between her and Rhys, who had taken the end seat. Cassian brought over what looked to be chicken in mushroom sauce and sat across from me, wine now absent from his face. Amren took the other end of the table and I blinked, just now noticing that Azriel Noc had taken the last seat across from Mor.

Rhys’s infamous spymaster. He was so good at his job that I didn’t even see him in the room until he was sitting at the table.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into? I was sitting at a dinner table, surrounded by gang members, while they bickered like siblings.

“Pass the potatoes will you, darling?” Rhys asked me. I leveled a glare at him before handing him the bowl.

I had to stop myself from moaning at the first bite of chicken. As an ambitious detective, my meals had been reduced to take out or frozen Lean Cuisines.

Cassian must have picked up on my pleased expression, shooting at self-satisfied grin at me. “If you like dinner so much, Detective Archeron, you should see what’s for dinner,” he winked at me.

“Eat up now then, Feyre, because dessert won’t fill you up,” Mor muttered.

Cas squawked at her, leading the two into a bicker of innuendos. My bewilderment at the family’s dynamics grew while also making me forget that I was at the table with some of the most wanted criminals in the city.

Amren and Az stayed quiet at the end of the table, the former watching with cool amusement with the latter gauging changes in emotions, ready to hop in the middle if needed.

“Not what you expected, darling, is it?” Rhys had leaned over, his breath warm with spices and wine brushing past me. I turned my head only slightly, not taking my eyes off the arguing pair, refusing to meet the violet gaze that was inches from my face.

“No, nothing of what I expected,” I said, not wanting to give away too much of what was going on in my mind. Rhys only let out a small hum, shifting back in his seat to spectate with me.

Mor ignored Cassian’s last comment, deciding to turn to me instead. “So Feyre, Rhys said that you’re willing to help us out, but how do we know that we can trust you?” I gulped my wine hard, thrown off from her switch of bright and bubbly to the person I know on paper. Cold, calculating, and unyielding. A queen of steel and ice.

I decided that simple honesty would be my only chance of survival. “Rhys told me the story of how you had to flee your country from Amarantha,” meeting each of their gazes with steady openness. “I may have taken an oath to follow the law, but I also took an oath to protect the citizens of this city. Amarantha presents a threat to them and I can’t ignore that.” I let the words hang in the air, let them absorb their verisimilitude.

Az was the first to break the silence, “I believe her,” and that was that. The conversational air returned, rushing into the vacuum Mor’s question had created.

Mor then peppered me with more questions.

How long had I lived in Velaris? (10 years)

What my favorite night clubs were? (I didn’t have any, usually going along with whatever Lucien had chosen for that week)

And who my latest fuck was, at which at that point I choked and used all my will to not look at Rhys.

He, apparently, had not done as well as me and blushed a harsh red while boring holes into my skull. Cassian at that point took about point two seconds to analyze the sudden tension on the opposite side of the table from him and burst out laughing.

Mor gave him an incredulous look, too focused on refilling her wine glass to realize what had just happened. Az had the decency to look away while Amren split her mouth in a serpentine smile.

“Well, well, well, it seems that we have a dirty cop on our hands,” Cassian smirked, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. Those words combined with my matching flush allowed Mor to put the pieces together. Her smirk rivaled Cassian’s.

Rhys at this point had composed himself, leaning back in his seat and swirling whatever wine was left in his glass, his face calm but unreadable. Looks like I’m getting no help there.

My thoughts whirled, trying to come up with a way out of this situation but I kept coming up blank.

“If he’s rendered you this speechless, then I have no hope, do I?” Cas drawled, his gaze simmering into mine.

“Nope, no, Cassian. I do not want to hear about how my cousin is in bed,” Mor shot back, saving me from any more questioning.

“It was a mistake, nothing more,” I finally managed to get out, forcing lightness into the words, ignoring Rhys’s almost unperceivable flinch on the corner of my vision. “I blame it on the drugs and alcohol in my system.”

“Oh ho! So our new little cop friend likes to play hard in and out of bed,” Cas chortled, reveling in the fact that he had new material to harass his brother on.

“No,” I ground out, “The drugs were from some piece of shit thugs who spiked my drink and beat me bloody in an alley. I was following up a lead on him,” jerking my chin to Rhys, “when this happened. Rhys was kind enough to stitch me up and was fresh out of painkillers, so he gave me whiskey instead. Needless to say, I wasn’t myself that night,” I finished, putting enough severity into the words that I hope he got the message. That night will not be repeated.

Four gazes pressed into me, the violet fifth stared at the table.

“What did they look like?” Mor asked softly but not weakly. Golden fire snapped in her eyes.

I sensed the energy change in the room. Gone was the teasing, replaced by malice not directed at me, but at my attackers.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “I was too busy scoping out the bar for your associates to note the faces well enough. Next thing I knew I was stumbling down the block, not realizing where I was going until I was halfway here.”

“When did this happen?” Cassian followed up.

“Two nights ago, Wednesday.”

“Az,” Cas’s sharp tone cut the air.

“Already on it,” came the response. I looked over and Azriel was rapidly typing on his phone, a call coming through midway a flurry of messages. He excused himself from the table, taking the call in the far corner of the living room.

“It’s probably better that you don’t know what he’s doing,” Mor apologized with a wince. If the last few actions hadn’t already outlined what was about to happen, Mor’s words confirmed it.

“You’re probably right,” was the only response I could give, shocked at how protective they already were of me. I wouldn’t be too surprised if the next time I went into the precinct, there would be fresh missing person or homicide cases on my desk.

It then occurred to me that not one of them had asked about the injuries that were still freshly written across my face and gait. I wondered if Rhys had told them to not ask about them or if they were just used to seeing brutality on a daily basis.

Rhys’s gaze again pressed on me, and this time I turned to meet it. My breath nearly caught at the violent swirl of emotions that were there. Anger. Concern. Apology.

And lust. Barely there but still recognizable. My attempts to shove him away had fallen on deaf ears.

I hated how my core tightened at the heated gaze. Hated how my body responded to his when all I should be doing is putting distance between us. Hated how he did nothing to stop himself.

We were on opposite sides of the law, or at least we used to be. It was my decisions that had brought us closer. I couldn’t ignore his need for my help, but I could ignore how my body cried out for him.

“Thank you for dinner,” I blurted out, breaking the spell between us. He blinked once, returning to the cool mask that he favored.

“You’re welcome,” he said carefully.

“Did I pass the test?” I asked, draining the rest of my glass.

“I’d say so, since you managed to spur Cas and Az into action.”

“Great,” I stood up, ready clear my head of him. “I need to get home and do some research but text me with any new info.”

“You won’t stay for after-dinner wine? I planned to raid Rhys’s collection,” Mor practically pleaded. I took in her puppy dog expression and almost caved, but the heat that appeared at my back reminded me of why I wanted to leave.

“Maybe next time,” I said with a small smile. It was too easy to be friendly with her, criminal record or not.

I headed towards the door, eager to escape and reevaluate my entire life. As I reached for the handle, sturdy fingers brushed mine, rough with calluses. I jerked my hand back as though I had been burned, taking a quick step away from the body that entered my personal space.

“Feyre,” his soft voice wrapped around me. It was only the tenderness in it that made me look up at him. Again, stupidly again, those eyes swallowed me up and threatened to pull me in. “Thank you for coming tonight, I hope it wasn’t too terrible.” A silent plea and apology were laced through the words.

“No,” I paused, “I… I like them, they’re not what I expected.”

A smile played on his lips, glancing back at where Cas and Mor were bickering over kitchen duties while Amren supervised from the bar. “I think they like you too.”

With that he opened the door, letting the cool autumn air swirl in. I inadvertently shivered at the difference in temperature. Rhys had noted it and responded with “If you need someone to warm you up tonight, you have my number,” followed by his classic wink.

I scowled, tucking my hands deep into my coat so that they wouldn’t strangle him or pull him closer. His laughter followed me down the alley and onto the street.

Next Chapter

[hitchell-mope]

(Film three. After “pirates medley”. The hook sisters have just run into an alleyway near the marketplace)

Harriet: ya shouldna done kiddo

Cj: why not.

Harriet: because it wasn’t a good move

Cj: you might like men drooling all over you but I hate it.

Harriet: you agreed to it.

Cj: I didn’t think they’d try that. So I’d apprecrie you dispensing with the victim blaming if you please.

Harriet: yeah yeah whatever. Lookee o’er there

Cj: aw FUCK!

(They’ve just spotted chadeficent and Ursula some ways away)

Harriet: SEA WITCH!

Ursula: oh god. (Fake smile) Harriet! To what do I owe the

(Cj shoots her in the stomach with a blunderbuss)

The sisters: where is he.

(Ursula straightens up and the bullet flies out of her stomach hitting some poor sap in the head)

Chadeficent: that was Balthazar yes?

The other three: who the hell cares?

Harriet: where is my brother?

Ursula: hmmmmm. Dunno don’t care. That work for you?

(Harriet lunges are the sea witch but Cj holds her back. While this is happening Hadie poofs back in slightly singed and very pissed off)

Hadie: for the record Rodan. I don’t appreciate being sent to Dark Mountain. Chernabog may be insultingly attractive but he’s far too fatherly for my tastes.

Cj: shove off spawn. There’s more important matters at hand

(Hadie chuckles sinisterly. Then force chokes the sisters)

Hadie: oh look at that. Fragile necks and bravado are such an inexplicable combination. And as you will see very soon. Deadly

Harriet: he.. he he mi...dea.

Cj: he...gone

Hadie: what? What’re you talking about?

Chadeficent: oh I think you know

(Hadie’s eyes glow bright grey. He drops the sisters, takes out a silver knife and throws it at Ursula. It slashes her cheek)

Hadie: ever heard of phlegathon tempered steel? It cuts you. Then heals you. But keeps you in burning unbearable pain. Until such time the wielder chooses to release you from it.

(Ursula’s cheek is starting to burn. Steam is curling from the edges of the cut)

Ursula: I was exiled from Atlantica. Whatever petty wound you deal me is of no consequence.

Hadie: yeah but (he sighs) cut you enough and it burns away your very being. So. What’ll it be bitch?

(Ursula growls in irritation and disappears in a torrent of water)

Hadie: now that that’s over oh cripes they’re gone.

(Chadeficent and the girls have left the scene. At the Jolly Roger Hook is waiting on deck)

Hook: GIRLS! What the hell have you been doing. Dukes is dead. And the men say you killed him Cj. If you keep doing this you’ll never land a husband.

Cj: aye. And what of it father?

Harriet: oh god not now.

Cj: yes now. Our brother has been missing for a year now and may as well be dead and all he cares about is his disgusting heterosexual misogynistic bastards of a crew

Harriet (coughing): code red. Code red

Hook: what’re you saying Cj?

Cj: what d’you think I’m saying dad?

Hook: it sounds as though you’re thinking to much like your freak of a brother

Harriet: Harry was bisexual pops

Hook: like I said. A freak. Men are with women. Women are with men. It’s the law of the world. And I expect my children abide by that

Cj: yes and when they don’t you cast them out and they need to take refuge somewhere else. Say a restaurant run by a squid

Hook: if you have something to say then say it.

Cj: ok. I like girls. Always have. Always will. And you cannae change it or me

(Starkey hobbles outside with a tea set. Sees the family feud. Starts to make his way back inside)

Hook: STARKEY! Did you know about Cj’s affliction

Cj: oh here we go

Starkey (diplomatically): uhhhh. I believe that. She. Wanted

Cj: it’s ok uncle Starkey. I told him last year. Considering he was the one that raised me while you were brainswashing Harriet into being Captain Hook 2.0 and Harry was fuck knows were trying to get Tick Tock to chomp his hand off in a vain attempt to get your approval!!!!

Hook: in time this will pass and you’ll be just like your sister

Cj (scoffing): of course. Be like Harriet. The pretty one. The smart one. The obedient one.

Harriet (for once very sheepish): Ceej. Could ya please lemme outta this?

Cj: no. He’s always wanted me to be like you. But guess what. I’m never gonna be who you want me to be

(This is when “sit still look pretty” happens. After the song Cj storms off)

Hook: and do you have any oddities you’d like to share Harriet? Because if so nows the time

Harriet: yes. As a matter of fact I do. For the past seven years I’ve been in uh heh “cahoots” with Gaston junior.

Hook: like the freak and the pansy

Harriet: sort of. Except theirs was more emotional. Ours is. Purely on the physical side. And yes. I’m the boss.

(Hook goes puce)

Harriet: uncle Starkey. I’ll be back presently

(She runs after her sister)

Hook: take me back to my quarters Starkey

Starkey: of course sir.

(He wheels the captain back in side. Harriet catches up with Cj. She finds her in an alleyway surrounded by the felled bodies of ten dogs and one cat)

Harriet: what the hell did you do.

Cj: the one thing I ever got from him, that wasn’t a hand me down from you or Har, was this.

(She holds up a whistle)

Harriet: wow

Cj: yep. Turns out it’s a dog whistle. Which pretty succinctly explains how the bastards could hear it all the way across Neverland when Jane found the treasure

Harriet: and the morbidly obese demon on four legs?

Cj: Tremaine’s moggy

Harriet: right. What you did was incredibly brave you know.

Cj: I don’t like animals.

Harriet: I meant what happened at home just now

Cj: I know. Like I said. I don’t like animals.

(At the core fours old apartment chadeficent has just arrived. Only to see Jafar watching tv)

Chadeficent: hello worthless. Miss me?

Jafar: who...?

Chadeficent (Maleficent’s voice): this better?

Jafar (exasperated): you couldn’t have taken control of a pretty one?

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): fuck off you crypt keeper

(Jafar looks taken aback)

Chadeficent: bugs are to be worked out

Jafar: what is it?

Chadeficent: spawn of Cinderella

Jafar: you couldn’t have got the ash girl herself?

Chadeficent: too strong willed (Chad’s indignant voice) hey! (Maleficent’s voice) SILENCE! (Both voices) I am creating a cult. To destroy our children. Ursula is aboard. What say you?

(The next morning. At Evie’s palce)

Mal:...and Ben found them this morning passed out on the couch with like eight tubs of deluxe rocky road ice scattered at round.

Jay: deluxe?

Mal: chocolate marshmallow ice cream instead of chocolate ice cream

Jay (hopefully): Christmas list?

Mal (generating a tin with magic): why wait?

Jay: ooh yay!

Evie: AH! No. Not yet

Jay: awww. I’ve been here for an hour

Mal: let the man eat sis. It’s the least you can do since you are stabbing him with pins when you could just use 🎶🎶magic🎶. By the way. Your hair remarkably black today

Evie (snarling): get outta workshop

(Mal leaves cackling. She goes to the kitchen where Carlos is giving a plate the thousand yard stare)

Mal: hey kiddo. What’s up?

Carlos (softly with a lot of feeling): the cake...it’s gone. An entire macadamia nut chocolate sponge cake. Gone. How? There was enough for fifty people to have two slices each. And it’s all gone. How can it all be gone?

(The twins and Gil come racing pass the room screeching at the top of their lungs with food all around their mouths)

Mal (aside to Carlos): I think I know. (Normal volume). Gil! Could you bring the kids in here please?

(Gil troops back to the kitchen with the twins trailing behind. All three look terrified. Carlos and Mal lift the twins up onto the counter)

Mal (“mom” voice in full effect): now boys. Did you ask your papa to get the cake from the fridge?

Twins: uhhhh...

Mal: it’s ok. I’m not mad. I just wanna. If it was you then that’s ok. If it was Dude then we need to get him to a veterinarian.

Carlos: WHAT?!?!

Mal: oh shit. Sorry honey.

Carlos: listen to me you rotten little————(the twins look at him with the epitome of puppy eyed innocence) 🎶dad. Where are you. You’re good with this type of stuff🎶

Mal: paperwork

Carlos: fuck

Gil: it was us. Squeaky wanted a snack and I couldn’t find anything in the fridge but the cake. We only meant to share a corner but Celia oh crap

Mal: 🎶oh Celia🎶

(The girl melts out from the shadows clutching her stomach)

Mal: did you help Gil and the twins eat the entirety of Jane’s birthday cake?

Celia: if I says yes what would you do.

Mal: give you an antacid and advise you to take it easy with the party food.

Celia: then yes. I helped.

Mal: come on then.

(They head to the bathroom. But Mal’s phone starts ringing)

Mal: it’s Ben. Do you know how to get to the bathroom?

Celia: Dizzy sent me a schematic last night

Mal: good. That’s good. If evo finds out I will plead the fifth. You do know that don’t you?

Celia: wouldn’t expect anything less. See ya

(She runs off)

Mal (answering her cell phone): hello your majesty. Any idea on your eta or should I send your apologies to Jane?

Ben: I wish I was close to being done. But there are so many papers to get through and there’s no use in denying it. People are terrified at what ever killed the guards.

Mal: I could come and help you?

Ben: no. Definitely not. Go have fun. Do the routine.

Mal: but you’ll miss it. Though a private rendition for your eyes only could also be very interes-

Cogsworth: ahem hello my lady

Mal (trying not to laugh): sorry Carlton.

Cogsworth: that’s quite alright dear. I’ll just uh go ahem away

(He leaves and bal bursts into laughter)

Mal: oh that was oh god that

Ben: I I’m so sorry

Mal: don’t be. Just sorted a domestic so a I needed a laugh

(As they’re talking Mal’s walking outside)

Mal: what on the office menu today

Ben: chargrilled Damon foie gras and quinoa

Mal: what no pizza?

Ben: fraid not

Mal: I can always zap you some sausage rolls and mac and cheese cupcakes from the party

Ben: please and thank you?

Mal: and the new cake

Ben: Celia?

Mal: along with your brother and nephews. Carlos was not happy

Ben: of course.

Mal: hey, was chad supposed to meet us at Evie’s?

Ben: I don’t think so. Is he there?

Mal: yeah. Looking like the shalka Doctor.

Ben: oh.

Mal: I’ll go see what he wants

Ben: be careful. Love ya

Mal: always am. Love you too.

(She hangs up)

Mal: hey chad. Whatcha doing

(Chadeficent turns to look at her. Their eyes glow black. And Mal enacts the safety protocols on the house keeping everyone else inside and safe)

Mal: what did you do?

Chadeficent (Maleficent’s voice): oh it’s not chad. Hello my sweet

Mal (breathing heavily): Maleficent?

Chadeficent: mhmm. Now give me my sceptre

Mal: what did you do to him?

Chadeficent: he is simply a mindless hormone driven teenage boy

Mal: yeah, I know, he’s an dickhead. Nobody likes him. At all

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice, very, very hurt): they don’t?

Mal: yeah. You’re insufferable.

Chadeficent (Maleficent’s voice): ENOUGH! Give me the sceptre

Mal: you stole the wand didn’t you. And the staff and the mirror. So why do you need the sceptre.

Chadeficent: I want everything of importance (Chad’s voice) I wanna be king (Maleficent’s voice) I want my daughter back

Mal: I’m not your daughter. And chad you hate magic. Why would you use it to be king?

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): I uh I dunno (Maleficent’s voice) he was easily bought with a butter finger and empty promises I have absolutely no intention on fulfilling. Now. The sceptre.

Mal (mind working a mile a minute): h how, how about a story. And I can make you a cup of tea yeah? Or coffeee?

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): ooh beer (Maleficent’s voice) very well. But be quick about it

Mal: ok. Ok um

(She turns to the drinks table. This is when “she’s so gone” happens. After which Chadeficent picks her up from the splintered table by the neck)

Mal: why...are..you...doing...this?

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): you don’t deserve this. None of it. You belong on that slag heap. You deserve to rot. To be forgotten. I want you all dead. Don’t you see? You can’t be queen. It’s not right. Audrey should be queen. And I should be king

Mal: but...Ben

Chadeficent (still Chad’s voice): ALL OF YOU WILL DIE. YOU. THE MAGIC PEOPLE THE RUNT THE CHICKS THE TRAIOR THE FREAK OF A DWARF. ALL OF YOU. DEAD (Maleficent’s voice) as for me. I want to break you. For you to see how useless you truly are without me.

Mal (turning purple in the face now): get...bent

(Chadeficent drops her and pulls out the wand)

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): there’s never been an ugly bitch who’s been queen. Looks are everything. Bibbidi bobbidi boo

(Mal is washed is black light which solidified into a black cloak. The houses doors are blasted off their hinges and jay stands there completely gold and absolutely buzzing with power. Chadeficent cackles as they disappear in black smoke. Jay and the others rush to Mal’s side)

Carlos: oh my god! Mom are you ok?

Mal (voice hoarse thin and cracked): yes ahem yes ye yeah. What the hells wrong with my voice

(Evie takes the hood off of Mal and cackles)

Evie: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH MY GOD! YOU LOOK LIKE

Jay (unimpressed with her behaviour): your mother. When she gave the apple to Doug’s aunt

(Evie stops cackling)

Carlos: what happened

Mal: Chad’s possessed by Maleficent. He wants to kill us all and be king

Carlos: and goat lady?

Mal: wants to break me

Evie: so what do we do

Celia: isn’t it obvious? Hades. Your father.

Evie: he is not

Celia: Mal was right and you know it. So stop pissing about and help me get your sister inside the house so she can get some proper clothes on cause an old lady in a minidress is not a good look. I should know. Cruella used to come to the arcade in the warm days. It’s was horrifying. Thank you Carlos for killing her last year by the way

Carlos: much obliged Ceels.

(Mal’s phone rings again. This time Carlos is the one to answer it)

Carlos: hi yes dad. Ok brace yourself. Chad has the wand. He’s possessed by Maleficent. He wants us all dead. Barricade yourself in your office. Emergency protocols. All that shizz. You have magic so you should be fine. We’re gonna stop them. It’s what we do. Us too (he ends the call) that’s dad sorted. Now how do we fix mom?

Celia: go to the island. Get the ember. Come back here. Kick him in the balls until he’s exorcised

Mal: Gil. You coming with us?

Gil: I would but. My boys

Doug: I’ll stay with them. I have my exosuit. I’ll keep them safe. I promise you I will

Gil: ok

Evie: oh my god!

Doug: our kid is fine. She’s with Lonnie and Jane. You know. A badass and a light fairy.

Evie: oh thank god

Jay: so we all know what we’re doing. Action time?

All the others: action time

Squirmy: AAAAAH

Gil (panicky): what? What is it? What’s wrong

Squirmy: I want to give the pretty lady my present

(He holds up a bouquet of periwinkle blue tulips. Everyone relaxes)

Gil: Jane will love them. But it could be a good idea to keep them here. Just until we’re all back together. Yeah?

Squirmy (unhappily): yeah

Doug: c’mon boys. You can help me bake a new cake.

The twins: YAAAAAAAAY

(They run back in. Evie goes up and embraces Doug)

Evie: we’ll be back soon as possible

Doug: take however long you need. I stabbed someon in the junk last year. I can defend myself

Evie: oh I know that. It’s just that

Doug: Evie sweetie. Look at me. I’ll be fine. I promise. And if I need to reach you there’s our phones the the psychic link you set up.

Evie (voice breaking): I...

Doug (understandingly): me too. Now let’s go

(They all run back into the house except for one)

Mal: uh. Guys

Jay: oh. Right

(He runs back and carries her to the house)

Mal: watch the hip. Watch the hip

Jay: yeah yeah yeah.

Celia: so do we get the the island. The limos?

Evie: no. They’re all the the school garages until next week.

Celia: then we’re screwed?

Mal: not entirely

Jaylos and Evie: THE BIKES

Celia: what?

Mal: how I left last year

(At the cliff site. The six of them are on their bikes. Celia’s hanging on to Gil)

Carlos: go on mom

Mal (voice still croaky): noble steed proud and fair/you shall take us anywhere

(They drive over the magic bridge to the island. Back in Auradon Chadeficent is making their way to Jane’s birthday party)

Chadeficent (Maleficent’s voice): are you sure this shall work? (Chad’s voice) it had better. They all deserve it for hating me

[littleliv1]

I Was Born To Love You- Ben Hardy Fanfic- Part five

Hello loves! Sorry it’s taking me forever to update this. This part was extremely long, so I decided to make it into five and five and a half, if that makes sense. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Brian and Roger wake Leah and tell her she and the guys have a surprise for them waiting for them at the end of the night. She finds out some big news.

Warnings: language, maybe some angst, talk about pregnancy, drinking, nothing really((:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up the next morning, my make up was all over my pillow and my eyes were still swollen. I heard my phone going crazy. It was only 9 am, what could they possibly want right now? It was Austin calling. "Hi, love," I said tiredly. "When are you coming home?" He asked. Was it true, that he missed me? "Awe, I miss you, too, my love." I said sweetly. "Alright, when are you coming home?" He repeated. He didn't exactly say he missed me, that's just how I took it. "Well we have to add at least another week-" "Alright, see you then, dear." He said hurriedly, hanging up. I looked at my watch that didn't change to London time, it was 5 am there. Why was he up so early?

I couldn't finish my thought, because there was a knock at the door. "It's open," I said, rubbing the tired out of my eyes, smearing my make up even more. Brian and Roger walked in. "Good morning, beauty." Roger said. I smiled at them. "Sleep well?" I asked, getting up, making the bed, flipping the pillow over so they couldn't see the make up stains. "Why yes we did. We have a surprise for you later today, look your very best. Okay?" Brian said. I giggled. "I appreciate the thought but I have to get some stuff for the movie done-" "Yeah the instruments, Bryan told us. Those can wait, love. We all just want a week to have some fun in London, take the day off. For the entire  day and entire night, you are no ones assistant. And we want you to look your very best. A nice dress, nice hair and make up, you'll love it, my sweet girl." Brian said, cupping my cheeks. I feel like he's taking the fatherly roll that he knew I was desperate for at a young age. All girls need their dad, and it felt like he looked at me and saw a girl who couldn't have that anymore.

I nodded at them smiling in his grip. As the two older men were leaving, Lucy, who was playing Mary in BoRhap, walked in. "Hello, beauty!" She said sweetly. I smiled at her, as far as I knew  I only worked for the guys, even though not today. "Hi, Lucy, what can I do you for?" I asked. She giggled. "You're not my assistant, dear, I just thought you could use some girl time. I know we're all going to this surprise that they won't tell us about, and I know you've been surrounded by men for weeks." She said. I smiled, I guess I have been. I didn't even realize it. "Alright, what do you want to do?" I asked. She thought for a second before getting excited. "Let's get our nails and hair done, treated by Bryan Singer," she said, holding up a credit card. I giggled at the sight of it and agreed. I just through on some shorts and a tee shirt. I also cleaned up my face that had make up all over it. I wore my glasses, since I wasn't anyone assistant today I didn't have to wear contacts. We left from there.

Lucy found this very professional and high end nail salon. It was slightly weird for me to go somewhere like that, I'm not used to high end treatment. We walked in, and we were greeted by this very kind and stunning man, who we quickly learned was flaming. He knew who we worked with and closed the shop for 6 hours to make sure we were well taken care of. They handed us two glasses of Chardonnay, as we were seated. "Actually, would water be okay for me? If it's not too much trouble?" I asked. I remembered what Ben had said. "Until you find out if you are or not, don't drink." Lucy looked at me, confused. "Do you not drink?" She asked, sipping her glass. I shrugged my shoulders. 'Well, I actually love drinking and getting drunk and it sucks to deny Chardonnay because I may be pregnant,' I thought to myself. I couldn't say that, though. They brought out some water for me, thanking them as they got to work.

About 4 hours, a massage, and a mani pedi later, we were done. It was so weird to be pampered like that, but nice, considering the night I had before. I got black, matte coffin shaped nails, and Lucy got gold metallic almond shaped nails. "Let's do something funky," She started, crossing her arm with mine. I smiled at her, laughing at the use of the word 'funky'. "What's that?" I asked. We were walking down a street that had marvelous boutiques, make up stores, all of the sorts. "Let's match our dresses to our nails!" She said, pulling me into a large, two story dress wear house named 'Winingdale'. I wouldn't even know where to begin with this store.

We were greeted by a lovely woman, who looked a bit aged but still looking dashing in a black and gold dress. "Welcome, ladies! How can I assist you today?" She said. I smirked at the comment 'assist'. A bit weird hearing it from someone else. "We have to look our absolute best tonight, however we don't know the occasion, but we were told to look great!" Lucy replied. The woman nodded her head. She snapped her fingers a few times, as another woman rushed up to us. "I understand, we are ready to help! We're going to take into consideration your body types, skin tone, hair color, eye color, and make you all look as nice as possible!" She replied. The older one took my hand, leading me up stairs and the younger one went elsewhere with Lucy.

She pulled me into a dressing room, which was only for one person. She put my against the wall and inspected me. "Hmm, you're quite short," she started, running her hands gently down my sides. "Curvy, but you have a flat tummy," she continued. "What size bra are you?" She asked, looking at my chest. My face flushed slightly. "A size 32 A." I have always been self conscious of my breasts. She got on her knees, looking at my legs, turning me side to side. "You're very fit, dear. And quite dark." She said. That boosted my confidence a bit, I had never really been insecure of my body, but hearing her approval of it made me happier. She stood up, looking at my hair. She ran her fingers through the chocolate brown locks. "Dark hair, blue eyes," she stared to write down. "Fit body, Short." She finished. "I have three dresses I'd like you to try on. These won't be what you'll be wearing, but these three are the styles you might like." She stated. She left the room, and about 5 minutes later she returned.

The first dress I put on was lovely, it was tight, they were all tight, but it got looser as it got closer to the ground. It was a maxi dress. The second one was a holster top, with a hole to show cleavage- cleavage I didn't have may I add- and it really did show off my curves. It ended about mid thigh. The third dress, I wasn't a fan of. It seemed to only cover my breasts, and my bum, barely. Everything in between was just crosses of thin fabric. Which sure it looked okay on me, it wasn't my style. "I really liked the second one," I started. She smiled and nodded. She grabbed my hand, expecting my nails. "Are these what you'll be wearing?" And asked. I nodded, earning a nod from her in response. "I'll be back in twenty minutes. I have to go any find four dresses I'm thinking about." She responded, as two women came in, setting down a few drinks, some popcorn, and turning the TV on. Lucy walked in. "This place is amazing," she started. I giggled at her. "Yes it is, so professional." I said back, eating some popcorn. She grabbed some red wine, as I took some sparkling grape juice. "Love, I know you drink. I've seen you drink, why don't you have some?" She asked. I didn't know what to say, and it wasn't long before I realized my mouth had been a-gap for a few minutes. She opened her eyes slightly wide, looking down at my stomach. "Are you pr-" she started, as I hushed her. "I don't know yet. I just don't want to drink until I know for sure." She started to get excited, but I explained to her to just calm down for a little bit. "I actually have some tests back in my room, they were for a friend who ended up not being pregnant, you should use it when we're done here." She continued. She stopped drinking the wine and poured herself some grape juice as well. I supposed she just felt kind of bad.

Once our dresses came, we picked them out. I got a dress that looked very similar to the one I tried on before, but it was black, with accents of silver. Lucy got a loose fitting dress that was golden with gold sequence. I had a pair of shoes that would match the dress at the hotel, but she convinced me to get a new pair for the hell of it. So I got black stilettos. Lucky for me, I was able to walk in heels. I've always been pretty girly, so I had some practice. After that, we hit some make up stores, jewelry places then headed back to the hotel with all of our bags. We ran into the guys, as my eyes met the beautiful blue eyes I always seem to find. "I see our two favorite girls got ahold of someone's card," Bryan said, jokingly. I smiled at Ben, as he smiled back. "Yeah, we went a bit crazy," she said. "But in our defense, we don't know what we're preparing for! Can't be too careful!" She said. We all had a good laugh. "Well the boys and I are about to get some shopping done ourselves. We'll see you guys in a few hours?" He asked. We both nodded, parting ways. As I passed Ben, I couldn't help but to catch his scent. He smelled comforting.

We put our bags down in Lucy's room as she handed me a test. Two, actually. "Take both. They're different brands, just to be sure." She said. I looked at them, nodding, then stood up and grabbed the test. I headed to the bathroom, and shut the door. I did what I had to do, and walked out. "Now we wait." I said, setting the tests down. I was so afraid.

She could tell how nervous I was. "It'll be okay, Leah. You're married, this isn't a bad thing." She explained, holding my hand. 'It is when you aren't sure your husband is mentally stable,'  I thought. It had been two minutes. "I can't look. Will you look for me?" I asked. She nodded, grabbing them both flipping them over. "Ready?" She asked. I nodded looking at her. She looked at them, and smiled, sitting down. "Congratulations, Leah," she said softly, holding them to me.

Taglist: @amy-brooklyn99

[kondo-hijikata]

Pairings: Established Kondo/Hijikata Rating: M Summary: It’s simple. Peddle medicine and find purpose. But after Hijikata is caught in a downpour that leads him right into Kondo’s arms, he realizes things are a little more complicated than he’d like to believe. [AO3]

many thanks to @shell-senji for the beta

<< Chapter 1

.*After the Rain*. Chapter 2

I need you. I need you just as much. Maybe even more.

When Hijikata’s lashes fluttered suddenly, he was unsure if it was the caress of dawn on his cheek or the reiteration of phantom whispers that had roused him to wakefulness. Whatever the case, his lips parted and he exhaled softly toward a ceiling which looked nothing like his own. In the same, he found himself naked yet warm against sheets stiffer than recollection served, the futon just as foreign as the scenery.

But it was also comfortingly familiar.

And that was when his mind fully escaped the haze of sleep, when he let his head loll to the side.

But I don’t want to push. …Or make you think I have expectations. Because I don’t.

There was a small gasp and slowly he blinked, his chest rising and falling thereafter with gentle undulation, his sight rife with an image of beauty as golden light sparkled and crept across the dormant form next to him. Ever the early riser, it wouldn’t be long before Kondo stirred as well to make a thankless, drab world of gray blossom back into the colors of paradise—of hope and opportunity and all things that were good.

Merit was to be found in having the fortitude to stare the unsightly straight in the face, however; and so, Hijikata seized the opportunity these fleeting moments gave him, to flex his daring on the plane meant for mortals and allow himself to just…process.

Because there were some dire things once more up for consideration after all that had transpired—things previously deemed figured out, just for Hijikata to realize he’d barely scratched the surface, or even worse, had been avoiding them.

Toshi, I just…I want you to do what makes you happy.

Deliberating, he stared at this man who so willingly, so openly, shared his bed…at shapely and reverent lips which had spoken the reassuring warrant of acceptance now flickering through Hijikata’s thoughts like butterfly wings amid garden flowers. Those words offered a universe of comfort he was wary of accepting, and not because Kondo hadn’t meant them with utmost sincerity; it was because he most certainly had.

That blatant honesty was why Hijikata now wondered if it was actually okay for someone to be okay with this kind of arrangement between them, especially since it involved a compromise of an indefinite nature.

His plan had always been elemental: work hard, get on Kondo’s level, and eventually earn a place at his side where he could pull equal weight. However, upon looking back at the outcome thus far of such a scheme, Hijikata found himself going nowhere fast and doing nothing profound. Instead, he’d somehow become trapped in this infinite loop of not moving forward with Kondo because he felt he couldn’t, and feeling he couldn’t because he wasn’t moving anywhere at all.

He’d assumed these matters would work themselves out eventually, if he just kept at what he was doing; something had to give at some point, after all. People found their calling all the time when least expected and Hijikata was sure his own awaited him, somewhere on the vast oceans of prosperity. But that optimistic view of someday arriving out of no place seemed more fantastical than ever this morning, especially when he’d come to realize just how much it affected more than himself, but them as a unit.

That there even was a them meant everything. And they’d been this way for so long that it felt natural and right…but was it really?

Hijikata’s eyes narrowed with a wince.

After his confession of feeling like a burden, it’d been Kondo’s reassurance that led him home again. And once that happened, they quickly slipped right back to normalcy in the aftermath, like nothing had happened at all.

There was no deviation from the usual, the pattern of behavior unfolding the same way it always did.

First, it was Hijikata’s unprompted, self-induced tension bringing choppy currents to calm waters. Then, followed Kondo’s sweet words, the kiss which placated, the embrace that succeeded in smoothing everything over and restoring life to its usual state. And just as it always had been, it was so easy to let the pressures and trials Hijikata put himself through dissipate, especially when the warmth of reassurance lapped at his agitation in gentle waves.

They’d held each other and talked, quietly at first, the conversation like Hijikata’s hair shifting from damp and heavy to relaxed and light. They ate dinner, shared sake, spent hours into the evening with quality Shieikan company, then sat on the starlit porch drinking and dreaming…until their eyes met in the way they often did. It hadn’t been long thereafter when the shoji shut and the garments fell to the tatami in time with the futon, when lips met again not out of comfort but desire and the entire world whited out.

It was all so…normal. But their relationship really wasn’t that at all, with Hijikata running about in circles while Kondo kept moving forward but still wanting the former around like he was useful for something.

And perhaps these thoughts were why waking up this morning next to Kondo for the umpteenth time of Hijikata’s life felt different.

Something shifted inside him now, as he recalled how Kondo’s feelings had been laid bare before him last afternoon, how that level of humility prompted doors to open even wider to weighty inquiries within Hijikata which had no concrete answers. Worse yet, they were the kind of questions which invited guilt, and that guilt brought with it the self-doubt.

With caution Hijikata turned on his side to face his companion completely, pulling the blanket back over an arm rendered exposed from the change in position, and resolved to study him—to watch Kondo breathe evenly and drink in that placid expression as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He felt his eyes soften and his heart beat but a little quicker.

Kondo seemed even more at peace in his slumber than the waking hours—a marvel itself—with his head against an ivory pillow roll and the thin cover cast off recklessly to expose the solid lines of his robust chest. The material had gathered over narrow hips, almost daring to expose more to the eye than decency would allow. And Hijikata would have been entirely content to revel in the presence of living, breathing art if it weren’t for the more pressing matters insistent and vying for his attention.

His shoulders rolled up slightly. Was it acceptable to leave a man like Kondo waiting while he worked through ironing his life out the hard way, with showing up frequently but never for the long run? Was such a relationship fair to either of them, with one having to surrender more than the other, when the trade-offs never felt even? Was taking his time as he had been also unwittingly taking advantage?

Long black lashes fell with the closing of Hijikata’s eyes, while Kondo’s voice filled his memories once more.

Things are okay this way. I promise. Everything is okay. We’re both doing what we need to do.

But why? Why was it all okay? And why did Hijikata keep inwardly arguing the opposite of all the reassurances and guarantees?

He supposed it all came down to this: it was unclear to him what necessity, what purpose, could be found when Kondo looked his way. There wasn’t a single doubt in existence that he saw something which had him holding Hijikata in such high regard, and so dearly. The not knowing why was infinitely troublesome, however, and brought with it negative thoughts and further discomfiting speculation.

It couldn’t be pity; or more accurately, Hijikata hoped beyond all hope that it wasn’t, as the thought of falling in love with someone out of sympathy for their condition seemed entirely pathetic. Yet then again, Okita was another hard luck case whom Kondo had taken to, but in an older brotherly or even fatherly manner. The difference with Okita’s misfortune lay in his capability of doing something about it; being naturally gifted with the blade meant he possessed something of value upon which his future could be reliably staked.

By contrast, Hijikata practiced the art of swordsmanship in the style of multiples, but held no inkling of mastery for one certain type. He’d worked as a merchant’s apprentice at his family’s insistence, but abandoned that way of life when it’d become too insipid and repetitious. And upon these failings, he’d resolved to wander an aimless path of medicine solicitation while looking for his big break—an occupation which yielded only enough funds to supply little more than sustenance and temporary shelter for himself while on the move.

In the long run, he wanted to be and feel useful, to make an impact that shook the very ground at his feet. …Like his brother-in-law, Hikogoro, drenched in wealth and finesse, who commanded the respect of the locals and even had his own Hino-based Tennen Rishin Ryu dojo. …Like Kondo, chosen by one from the samurai class to join his family and inherit his legacy, who inspired the ambitions of mere farmers and challenged them to be and do better.

Transcending social constructs like that was a ludicrous fantasy seemingly better for bedtime stories, but one boy hailing from Kamiishihara had done the impossible and was now on his way to becoming the master of an entire fighting style. He was a true samurai, not by birth, but in spirit—and that, by Hijikata’s opinion, made Kondo more samurai than any man lucky enough to have been born with such an embellishing title while lacking the discipline and character.

Ultimately, the bitter reality was that up against these admirable men of high caliber, all Hijikata was at this point was a rough stone without polish—one that would barely make a splash if tossed into a lake, one that would sink right to the bottom undistinguished from the rest. He was no pearl, not yet. And he would never become one if he kept on as he had been.

Hijikata’s eyelashes parted suddenly.

…Where were these thoughts going?

He stared at his palm resting flat on the sheet.

…Every twist, every turn of mental gymnastics led him to the same conclusion. He had to make a change. And that change, it meant…

The sudden soft yawn at his side jarred Hijikata and sent his emotional shields slamming into place, his eyes snapping shut before Kondo noticed he’d uncharacteristically woken up first. He feigned sleep over the sounds of stirring, of small stretches and joints popping, of Kondo shifting from his back to his side. Then, all went silent.

The quietude persisted for long enough that Hijikata believed Kondo had fallen back into slumber, so his eyes fluttered open again. But when they did, they parted that much wider in surprise.

Soft amber. Flecks of gold. A universe of treasure between rims of dark lashes, aimed directly at him.

Seconds ticked by.

“Hey…” Kondo whispered at last, a lazy lopsided smile pulling outward to his cheek.

Hijikata blinked, as dread simultaneously crept up his throat and weighed his body down until he felt twice as heavy. If it were any other day, he might have snapped at being watched while he slept and even pulled the cover over his face as retaliation. However, this morning was anything but typical and Hijikata had been the furthest place possible from inner peace.

He wished he could react normally, wished he had the right to chide Kondo as he often would over the small things. Alas...

“…Hey,” he replied, before it became too long and things turned even more awkward for him.

A hand fell over his own, still resting palm-down on the futon, as Kondo’s sluggish features began to sharpen with the furrowing of his brow. “Are…?” He cleared his throat to shake the coarseness from his voice and began rising to a forearm. “Are you okay?”

Hijikata nodded immediately, pulling his hand free from Kondo’s to press unto a bicep and still him. “Mm.” He sniffled, and several frightfully thoughtful moments drifted by before he added, “Still tired.” The yawn thereafter started out fake, but quickly turned real.

“Heh…” To much relief, Kondo seemed to relax at that. He shoved his pillow roll off the futon, then slipped an arm beneath Hijikata and drew him close enough for his lips to meet his forehead. “Me too.”

“I mean…” Hijikata huffed and felt Kondo smile against him, felt the quiet laugh rumble within his chest.

“Sorry.” Kondo stroked his thumb gently across Hijikata’s exposed cheek, then brushed loose locks of hair behind his ear.

He’s such a good person…so rare, so good. He deserves the best of everything. Is that what you can give him as you are now? Really?

“Toshi,” Kondo breathed, elongating the vowels of his name, and then used his weight to coax Hijikata on his back. He nuzzled him, draped an arm over Hijikata’s waist, then rested his head against his chest. “Let’s sleep a little longer?”

Things are okay this way. I promise. Everything is okay.

In fact, at present, nothing was. But perhaps, one day, it could be. Hijikata’s chest tightened as the path with all the answers suddenly opened to him, and at last he realized what needed to be done...for the good of them as one, and the good of them as individuals.

But for now…

If only for now...

“Aa.” Fingers came up to thread through locks of short brown hair before Hijikata let his arm fall, wrapping around Kondo’s back and holding him close. “Just a little longer.” He stared toward the ceiling, as he held tight.

And then tighter yet.

Toshi, I just…I want you to do what makes you happy.

Deliberating, he stared at this man who so willingly, so openly, shared his bed…at shapely and reverent lips which had spoken the reassuring warrant of acceptance now flickering through Hijikata’s thoughts like butterfly wings amid garden flowers. Those words offered a universe of comfort he was wary of accepting, and not because Kondo hadn’t meant them with utmost sincerity; it was because he most certainly had.

That blatant honesty was why Hijikata now wondered if it was actually okay for someone to be okay with this kind of arrangement between them, especially since it involved a compromise of an indefinite nature.

His plan had always been elemental: work hard, get on Kondo’s level, and eventually earn a place at his side where he could pull equal weight. However, upon looking back at the outcome thus far of such a scheme, Hijikata found himself going nowhere fast and doing nothing profound. Instead, he’d somehow become trapped in this infinite loop of not moving forward with Kondo because he felt he couldn’t, and feeling he couldn’t because he wasn’t moving anywhere at all.

He’d assumed these matters would work themselves out eventually, if he just kept at what he was doing; something had to give at some point, after all. People found their calling all the time when least expected and Hijikata was sure his own awaited him, somewhere on the vast oceans of prosperity. But that optimistic view of someday arriving out of no place seemed more fantastical than ever this morning, especially when he’d come to realize just how much it affected more than himself, but them as a unit.

That there even was a them meant everything. And they’d been this way for so long that it felt natural and right…but was it really?

Hijikata’s eyes narrowed with a wince.

After his confession of feeling like a burden, it’d been Kondo’s reassurance that led him home again. And once that happened, they quickly slipped right back to normalcy in the aftermath, like nothing had happened at all.

There was no deviation from the usual, the pattern of behavior unfolding the same way it always did.

First, it was Hijikata’s unprompted, self-induced tension bringing choppy currents to calm waters. Then, followed Kondo’s sweet words, the kiss which placated, the embrace that succeeded in smoothing everything over and restoring life to its usual state. And just as it always had been, it was so easy to let the pressures and trials Hijikata put himself through dissipate, especially when the warmth of reassurance lapped at his agitation in gentle waves.

They’d held each other and talked, quietly at first, the conversation like Hijikata’s hair shifting from damp and heavy to relaxed and light. They ate dinner, shared sake, spent hours into the evening with quality Shieikan company, then sat on the starlit porch drinking and dreaming…until their eyes met in the way they often did. It hadn’t been long thereafter when the shoji shut and the garments fell to the tatami in time with the futon, when lips met again not out of comfort but desire and the entire world whited out.

It was all so…normal. But their relationship really wasn’t that at all, with Hijikata running about in circles while Kondo kept moving forward but still wanting Hijikata around like he was useful for something.

And perhaps these thoughts were why waking up this morning next to Kondo for the umpteenth time of Hijikata’s life felt different.

Something shifted inside him now, as he recalled how Kondo’s feelings had been laid bare before him last afternoon, how that level of humility prompted doors to open even wider to weighty inquiries within Hijikata which had no concrete answers. Worse yet, they were the kind of questions which invited guilt, and that guilt brought with it the self-doubt.

With caution Hijikata turned on his side to face his companion completely, pulling the blanket back over an arm rendered exposed from the change in position, and resolved to study him—to watch Kondo breathe evenly and drink in that placid expression as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He felt his eyes soften and his heart beat but a little quicker.

Kondo seemed even more at peace in his slumber than the waking hours—a marvel itself—with his head against an ivory pillow roll and the thin cover cast off recklessly to expose the solid lines of his robust chest. The material had gathered over narrow hips, almost daring to expose more to the eye than decency would allow. And Hijikata would have been entirely content to revel in the presence of living, breathing art if it weren’t for the more pressing matters insistent and vying for his attention.

His shoulders rolled up slightly. Was it acceptable to leave a man like Kondo waiting while he worked through ironing his life out the hard way, with showing up frequently but never for the long run? Was such a relationship fair to either of them, with one having to surrender more than the other, when the trade-offs never felt even? Was taking his time as he had been also unwittingly taking advantage?

Long black lashes fell with the closing of Hijikata’s eyes, while Kondo’s voice filled his memories once more.

Things are okay this way. I promise. Everything is okay. We’re both doing what we need to do.

But why? Why was it all okay? And why did Hijikata keep inwardly arguing the opposite of all the reassurances and guarantees?

He supposed it all came down to this: it was unclear to him what necessity, what purpose, could be found when Kondo looked his way. There wasn’t a single doubt in existence that he saw something which had him holding Hijikata in such high regard, and so dearly. The not knowing why was infinitely troublesome, however, and brought with it negative thoughts and further discomfiting speculation.

It couldn’t be pity; or more accurately, Hijikata hoped beyond all hope that it wasn’t, as the thought of falling in love with someone out of sympathy for their condition seemed entirely pathetic. Yet then again, Okita was another hard luck case whom Kondo had taken to, but in an older brotherly or even fatherly manner. The difference with Okita’s misfortune lay in his capability of doing something about it; being naturally gifted with the blade meant he possessed something of value upon which his future could be reliably staked.

By contrast, Hijikata practiced the art of swordsmanship in the style of multiples, but held no inkling of mastery for one certain type. He’d worked as a merchant’s apprentice at his family’s insistence, but abandoned that way of life when it’d become too insipid and repetitious. And upon these failings, he’d resolved to wander an aimless path of medicine solicitation while looking for his big break—an occupation which yielded only enough funds to supply little more than sustenance and temporary shelter for himself while on the move.

In the long run, he wanted to be and feel useful, to make an impact that shook the very ground at his feet. …Like his brother-in-law, Hikogoro, drenched in wealth and finesse, who commanded the respect of the locals and even had his own Hino-based Tennen Rishin Ryu dojo. …Like Kondo, chosen by one from the samurai class to join his family and inherit his legacy, who inspired the ambitions of mere farmers and challenged them to be and do better.

Transcending social constructs like that was a ludicrous fantasy seemingly better for bedtime stories, but one boy hailing from Kamiishihara had done the impossible and was now on his way to becoming the master of an entire fighting style. He was a true samurai, not by birth, but in spirit—and that, by Hijikata’s opinion, made Kondo more samurai than any man lucky enough to have been born with such an embellishing title while lacking the discipline and character.

Ultimately, the bitter reality was that up against these admirable men of high caliber, all Hijikata was at this point was a rough stone without polish—one that would barely make a splash if tossed into a lake, one that would sink right to the bottom undistinguished from the rest. He was no pearl, not yet. And he would never become one if he kept on as he had been.

Hijikata’s eyelashes parted suddenly.

…Where were these thoughts going?

He stared at his palm resting flat on the sheet.

…Every twist, every turn of mental gymnastics led him to the same conclusion. He had to make a change. And that change, it meant…

The sudden soft yawn at his side jarred Hijikata and sent his emotional shields slamming into place, his eyes snapping shut before Kondo noticed he’d uncharacteristically woken up first. He feigned sleep over the sounds of stirring, of small stretches and joints popping, of Kondo shifting from his back to his side. Then, all went silent.

The quietude persisted for long enough that Hijikata believed Kondo had fallen back into slumber, so his eyes fluttered open again. But when they did, they parted that much wider in surprise.

Soft amber. Flecks of gold. A universe of treasure between rims of dark lashes, aimed directly at him.

Seconds ticked by.

“Hey…” Kondo whispered at last, a lazy lopsided smile pulling outward to his cheek.

Hijikata blinked, as dread simultaneously crept up his throat and weighed his body down until he felt twice as heavy. If it were any other day, he might have snapped at being watched while he slept and even pulled the cover over his face as retaliation. However, this morning was anything but typical and Hijikata had been the furthest place possible from inner peace.

He wished he could react normally, wished he had the right to chide Kondo as he often would over the small things. Alas...

“…Hey,” he replied, before it became too long and things turned even more awkward for him.

A hand fell over his own, still resting palm-down on the futon, as Kondo’s sluggish features began to sharpen with the furrowing of his brow. “Are…?” He cleared his throat to shake the coarseness from his voice and began rising to a forearm. “Are you okay?”

Hijikata nodded immediately, pulling his hand free from Kondo’s to press unto a bicep and still him. “Mm.” He sniffled, and several frightfully thoughtful moments drifted by before he added, “Still tired.” The yawn thereafter started out fake, but quickly turned real.

“Heh…” To much relief, Kondo seemed to relax at that. He shoved his pillow roll off the futon, then slipped an arm beneath Hijikata and drew him close enough for his lips to meet his forehead. “Me too.”

“I mean…” Hijikata huffed and felt Kondo smile against him, felt the quiet laugh rumble within his chest.

“Sorry.” Kondo stroked his thumb gently across Hijikata’s exposed cheek, then brushed loose locks of hair behind his ear.

He’s such a good person…so rare, so good. He deserves the best of everything. Is that what you can give him as you are now? Really?

“Toshi,” Kondo breathed, elongating the vowels of his name, and then used his weight to coax Hijikata on his back. He nuzzled him, draped an arm over Hijikata’s waist, then rested his head against his chest. “Let’s sleep a little longer?”

Things are okay this way. I promise. Everything is okay.

In fact, at present, nothing was. But perhaps, one day, it could be. Hijikata’s chest tightened as the path with all the answers suddenly opened to him, and at last he realized what needed to be done...for the good of them as one, and the good of them as individuals.

But for now…

If only for now...

“Aa.” Fingers came up to thread through locks of short brown hair before Hijikata let his arm fall, wrapping around Kondo’s back and holding him close. “Just a little longer.” He stared toward the ceiling, as he held tight.

And then tighter yet.

Chapter 3 >>

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

Butterfly Hearts (Peter Parker X Reader)

Summary: You were a lab rat most of your life in Slovakia alongside your siblings, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, they’re the only family you have left. This resulted in you having similar powers to Wanda, but one of your abilities stands out among the rest: telepathy. You’re new to the Avengers, and already apart of the team. You meet both Spider-Man and Peter Parker on separate occasions, and both of you are intrigued by the other. What will become of your growing crushes and midnight rendezvous? Is it all just a fling or could it be the real thing? 

Author’s Note: Yes, I’m starting a new series, and yes I’m gonna finish the last Loki one, but all you writers out there now when inspiration strikes, IT STRIKES! So I had to do it, I’m really excited for this little series and I really hope you like it. AND IN THIS WANDA IS 19!!! I also decided to give this character a look cause I do like third person but I also like the reader fics, so this is a compromise, if you don’t like the character’s look, imagine whatever you like :) ENJOY MY LOVELIES!

Warnings: SO MUCH FUCKING FLUFF YOU GUYS, “IT’S SO FLUFFY I’M GOING TO DIE!”, this series is going to be mostly fluff, some.... violence, some sexual references, swearing cause it’s me, just a bit of angst later on, and more I will get to... ;)

Face Claim: Elle Fanning

“(Y/N), get out of your room and come meet the team,” Wanda, your older sister, pounds on your door, yelling at you to stop being antisocial. 

You roll your eyes as younger sisters do when they’re older siblings tell them what to do, then you pull yourself out of bed, setting your laptop gifted to you by Tony down on your pillow. You walk up to the door and twist it open, smiling tightly at your sister.

“Why must you interrupt my only downtime, Wanda?” you sigh, rolling your eyes another time and walking past her. She gets by your side, creating a small, fiery, ball in her palm and sparking your arm. You wince, but find yourself laughing and smiling at your big sister. She and Pietro are all the family you’ve ever known, you were the three musketeers. Emphasis on the were.

After the fight against Ultron, you and Wanda grew distant, the grief of losing Pietro wedged between you two. He was the glue that held the three of you together, the peace maker between you and her when you would get into arguments, which is often. You three were poked and prodded, experimented on, human lab rats and made test subjects. But you had each other and that was supposed to be enough.

So it’s just you and Wanda now, living in the Avengers headquarters after being recruited into their little team of crime fighters. Things are better between you two now, but there’s always this unspoken barrier neither of you are willing to cross. Wanda is by far one of the strongest here, at least you think so, you’ve been told you’re just as powerful. You share some of her power, red sparks and all, but you’ve been given a bit more: telepathy. Moving things with your mind, hearing people’s thoughts, manipulating those people’s thoughts, having conversations with people through those thoughts, everything with the mind is your terrain. 

You and Wanda walk into the sitting room, a few new people in here that you don’t recognize, but are all around Wanda’s age, you feel like the baby in the room as you usually do.

“You must be (y/n),” a tall and beautiful, red haired woman who you assume is the infamous, assassin, Natasha Romanaff. She smiles warmly at you when you shake her extended hand. “I’m Natasha.” You continue to look at her, dumbstruck at her ability to demand attention just by looking at you with such calculated poise and confidence, and looking good while doing it. She’s as amazing as you thought her out to be, if not more.

“She’s pretty, Wanda,” she says to your sister, making you blush from the compliment. “And looks a lot like you.”

“No,” Wanda smiles fondly. “She shares more of a resemblance to our brother than to me.”

“And thank heavens for that,” you tease her with a small, half smile in her direction. She glares at you to which you respond with a smug grin.

“She’s got your attitude, that’s for sure,” a man with a bow and arrow hooked over his arm chimes in, smiling at you and Wanda. “It’s nice to meet little Wanda. She’s constantly talking about you, (y/n). I hope you can live up to the hype.”

“I might just exceed your expectations,” you say with a smile, which he matches with an amused expression. “Hawkeye, yes?”

“Did the bow give it away?” he jokes and you nod, smiling. He laughs, “I like this kid.”

You chuckle softly as Tony, Bruce, Bucky, and Steve walk into the room, all with their own different style of swagger and way they carry themselves. You’ve heard all the stories, and, wow, you’ve looked up to them your whole life, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine this. That you’re now working with them. What a small world this is.

A young man, closer to your age, around eighteen years old like yourself, with chocolate, brown eyes, a sweet smile, perfect, pink lips, and short yet tousled, chestnut hair walks into the room alongside Tony. He spots you and stops in his tracks, you catch him staring and send a small wave and smile his way. He blushes every shade of red when he sees he’s been caught by you, opening his mouth to greet you, but closing it when nothing comes out. You attempt to reach into his mind and hear his thoughts, know what he’s thinking, but your blocked somehow. Strange, you think, that’s never happened before. Perhaps it’s because he wears all of his heart on his sleeve, relaying to everyone in the room what he feels, so there’s no need.

Tony looks at the dumbstruck Peter, rolls his eyes, and smacks the back of his head, reeling him back into reality. He looks at Tony, more sheepish than before, if that’s even possible.

You look down at the floor, tapping your feet as you feel the men approach you. You look up, meeting the eyes of the handsome boy with the nice smile. 

Tony appears beside him, resting his hand on his shoulder and gripping it like a father would his son. They seem to have the relationship, you can feel the fatherly love and protection Tony is exuding, his mind filled with worries about everyone on the team, and for a guy so sarcastic and seemingly care-free, his mind is filled with stress and riddled with anxiety.

But you still can’t read the boy.

“This is Peter,” Tony says, exchanging looks with Peter like he wants to say more, but stops himself. “He’s apart of the Stark internship, works for me in tech, smart kid, but a bit tongue tied at the moment, sorry about that. He gets like this when he’s around a pretty girl.”

Peter lets out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck as he struggles to meet your eyes directly, sending a glare to Tony when he won’t stop smirking at the two of you.

“(Y/N) here is a new Avenger,” Tony says, shaking Peter by the shoulders. Peter looks stunned, so you decide to humor him, and lay your palm flat, making fiery, red sparks fly from your hand. His eyes are wide and he looks at you like you’re the coolest person he’s ever met, completely and irrevocably enamored by you from this moment forward.

Tony smiles, “She’s a certified badass, Wanda’s sister aka red magic, and also telepathic, so no dirty thoughts about her or she’ll hear them, alright?” Tony winks playfully at you.

You shake your head and smile, cheeks burning at the thought and so do Peter’s, heart beating faster when he gives that small, little, shy smile again. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter.”

“Uh... ye- yeah, likewise,” he says, his pretty lips edging into a soft smile.

You break into a smile at his awkwardness. It’s refreshing to see someone here act like a human being and not entirely made of steel, he has real emotions that he’s not afraid to hide, which intrigues you. “You don’t need to be so nervous, brown eyes, I don’t bite,” you assure him, proud of the new nickname you’ve come up with for him and how perfectly it fits. “Unless I’m provoked,” you half-shrug with a smile.

Peter laughs, the tension between you two dissipating slightly from his lighthearted chuckle. When he smiles, it takes up his whole face, eyes crinkling, laugh lines, dimples, teeth on full display. You didn’t think it was possible, until now, for someone to be both this damn adorable, but apparently so.

“Remind me to stay on your good side then,” he chuckles.

“You seem like the type of boy to treat a girl right, no? I don’t think I’ll have to worry about you, Peter Parker,” your lips edge into a teasing smile, picking up on his last name from listening to Tony’s thoughts. 

He blushes again, laughing lightly, not quite meeting your eyes, flustered from your thick, velvet like Slovakian accent, and the goosebumps that form up his arms when you speak his name.

“That’s... kind of hard to do when I don’t have a girl to treat.”

“Well, the day’s still young, brown eyes, who knows what will happen?” you wink, enjoying the flush in his cheeks when you do so. 

Your sister’s eyes widen at your comment, looking at you with her mouth slightly agape, “(Y/N)... you little minx!”

You lick your dry lips and bite down on your bottom one, a cheeky smile overtaking your face. You lean closer to her, watching Peter all the while and he shifts under your gaze. You whisper in her ear so only she hears, “He’s cute, Wanda.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, “Sounds like someone’s smitten.”

“We’ll see, I guess,” you say wistfully, sharing a small smile with your sister.

You heart flutters pleasantly when you see him smile at you. What is this feeling? It’s like someone’s wrapping a hand around your heart and squeezing it until it bursts, it’s painful for you, but also thrilling and wonderful. You look over Peter with fresh eyes. He’s surprisingly fit, you can see that even under his dress shirt and navy, blue sweater. You usually aren’t this forward with people, but damn, something or everything about him is just so... enticing.

Tony shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Okay, lovebirds,” he smacks Peter’s shoulder, sending him stumbling forward. “Save the flirting for when you two are alone, with protection, of course.”

“Tony!” Natasha scolds him with a frown and a dangerous glare to match. “They’re seventeen!”

“So?” Tony asks, acting as if this was the most normal thing in the world. “I had my first when I was-”

“Please don’t,” Steve shakes his head, smiling and biting back a laugh, cutting Tony off.

“Fine, I won’t regale you all in the amazing story of losing my flower to the hottest and smartest girl in school,” Tony scoffs, faking offense. Steve and Bucky roll their eyes, while Bruce looks like he has no idea what’s going on.

“Your flower?” Natasha scrunches her features, brows pinched together, disgust mixed with so much confusion. 

“Can we stop talking about this?” Wanda sighs, hands on your shoulders. “We have young, impressionable ears among us.”

“You’re two years older than me, Wanda,” you sends her a quizzical look. 

“But still older,” she pats your shoulder condescendingly and you shake her off of you. 

Tony claps his hands together, a lightbulb practically appearing above his head as he scans the group. “Okay, so. We’re going out for dinner, to celebrate our new recruits and in honor of Peter here,” he clamps down on his shoulder again, spooking Peter out his daze, bringing his attention away from you and to Tony now. “Getting the elite and prestigious Stark internship.”

“This is just an excuse for you to drink,” Bucky furrows his brow, seeing through Tony instantly, everyone in the room nodding in silent agreement.

“No...” Tony says, eyebrows raised. “It’s for them, not me.”

“When is anything not about you, Tony?” Natasha elbows Tony in the side, which makes him roll his eyes and her smile widen.

“You guys really rail into Tony, don’t you?” you chime in, feeling like an outsider who doesn’t belong when they all look at you.

But then Tony wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his side, squeezing your shoulder affectionately, “See,” he smiles at you and you return it, heart warming like you belong. That’s a first. “I knew I would like her.”

“Because she plays into your ego,” Clint shakes his head. “Don’t buy into it, kid, it’s all an act.”

“I’m still convinced that he’s always been like this,” Steve says, arms crossed over his chest and Bucky looks at him with a nod of his head.

“They mistreat me here,” Tony says to you, pretending to wipe away a tear.

“You’re so abused, Mr. Stark,” you stifle a laugh.

He hugs you to his side again, “She’s my favorite now. Peter’s out.”

“What?” Peter says, finally seeing Tony side-hugging you and he frowns. “I never got a hug.”

“Aw, come here, kid,” Tony waves him over and brings him in for a side hug with his other arm. You and Peter share a secret smile, almost like you’re establishing a friendship. You have to look away from him as your face burns up instantly.

“Okay, everyone go get dressed,” Tony says, pushing the two of you out into the real world. “We’re going out!”

~~~

You open your mouth and step back, readying yourself for Wanda to take aim to throw the french fry from across the private, dinner table you all share, all of the team’s eyes on you two to see how this situation plays out.

“Wanda Maximoff, stepping up to the plate, ready to pitch the shot...” Steve narrates with his hand cupped over his mouth. Wanda winks at Cap and smirks, holding her hand back.

“And (Y/N) Maximoff, prepared to catch it within a moment’s notice, but will she be able to keep up with Wanda? We’ll just have to see,” Clint continues, making you smile.

“It’s a beautiful day in the stadium, clear skies, cool weather, and a great turnout,” Tony says in his best announcer voice, a lot like his own. 

“Except Tony Stark’s here,” Natasha says, hands cupped by her mouth as well. “Sorry about that folks, we know he’s an ass.”

Tony points his fork at her with a piece of medium-rare steak at the end, “I will no longer tolerate this disrespect, Romanaff,” he warns, lifting an eyebrow, and taking the bite of his meal.

“You’re all bark and no bite, Stark,” Natasha shakes her head, just as Tony steals a pasta noodle from her plate, putting it in his mouth, and Pepper glares at him, taking a piece of his meal in return. Tony leans over and kisses Pepper on the cheek, long enough to distract her so he can grab Pepper’s bread roll.

Wanda looks at you and raises her eyebrows, “Are you ready, (y/n)?”

You nod, opening your mouth back up, and leaning back as she throws the fry, everyone watching at the table. You catch it swiftly, chomping down on it with a smile, and raising your arms, the team all clapping.

“AND SHE MAKES THE SHOT!” Peter whoops, grinning at you, a little less in his head until you smile back at him, his heart thundering loudly. 

How... do you breathe again? How can I even remember when my heart is pounding so damn loud in my ears I can hardly think?! he thinks to himself, tearing his gaze away from you and your pale, pink, skater dress Nat bought for you.

Tony looks down at his watch and takes his champagne flute in his hand, holding it above his head, “A toast, to (y/n), Wanda, and Peter, two new recruits and a dork with a brain too big for his own head and for his own good. Cheers.”

He knocks his glass against Pepper’s, sharing a small kiss with her, before going around the table and hitting everyone’s glass, getting to yours.

“And my new favorite Avenger,” Tony winks at you, hitting your glass with a dramatic flourish.

Peter gets up from the table, looking at Tony for barely even a second, the exchange so small you nearly miss it, “I’m... going to go get some fresh air, Mr. Stark. I’ll be back.”

He nods to him, “Be back soon, Aunt May will have my head if you’re not home safe by at least ten.”

Peter smiles half-halfheartedly and walks out of the restaurant, leaving a little deflated without his presence which has never happened before. Weird.

“I think... I think I’ll go too, who knows it might be good for me?” you say, pulling out your chair and glaring at your smirking sister who takes a sip of her hot, green tea.

Tony shares the same expression, looking at Natasha who only shrugs, “Be safe, then, kid, and get Pete back here by nine thirty.”

“Roger that, Mr. Stark,” you salute him and he laughs, before going on about how much he likes you to the group, causing to smile just a little as you walk out. 

You get outside and it’s immediately cold, the cool air hitting you like a ton of bricks, so you run your hands up and down your arms as you try to warm yourself up, wandering down the almost empty sidewalks, surprisingly no one out at this time of night. When you moved here, you expected it to be bustling with life and tourists, which it was, at first, but now... you’re taking it all in and finding out exactly why people come to New York, it’s gorgeous. Especially at night, all the lights, emitting from the skyscrapers and glass buildings. 

You get about a block away from the restaurant, now in a dead end alley way with nothing but darkness and stray cats. You feel someone tug on your purse and whip your head around, coming face to face with a masked man, ripping your things away from you.

He holds a gun up to your head, and you slowly put your hands up in surrender. You can see his expression change beneath his mask, like he’s smiling, eerily. “Good girl, now, go against that wall, and don’t leave until I’m a block away or I’ll blow your pretty little head off, understand?”

“I’m terribly sorry...” you say, lowering your hands and conjuring up a ball of red, balls of chaos and magic in both hands. “But I’m afraid that’s not going to work for me.”

He looks at your magic, eyes wide and filled with fear now, but his answer is cool and calm. He should run when he had the chance. “Why is that?”

“Because I never do what I’m told,” you say, taking your purse from his hands while he’s distracted and sending the ball of fiery, spark filled magic his way, throwing him back into the street, hearing a loud crash as he hits the wall of another building. You’re about to turn around to find Peter when-

“Amateurs,” you hear a voice say behind you. You slowly turn yourself around and jump at the sight, a hand over your mouth in shock when you see what appears to be a boy in a red and blue, high tech costume with a spider on his chest, held only by a thin line of spider web. And he’s upside down.

Well, now you’ve seen everything.

“You... you scared me,” you say, breathless from the experience, noticing the way his spider eyes refocus as he looks at you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice a bit higher you expected, but incredibly sweet. “I was about to come and help you, but it seems you had it handled so I... I just watched.”

“That’s a bit creepy, don’t you think?” you tease the helpful, kind stranger, finding something very safe about his presence, feeling yourself relax around him. 

“I wasn’t watching you, only admiring you and your power,” he says with a nervous laugh that makes you smile. “You were incredible.”

“Why, thank you, spider-boy,” you fake a curtsy, looking back up at him through your lashes. 

“Spider-man,” he corrects. “No boy.”

“Obviously,” you smirk, looking over him and his athletic, strong build and physique. He’s all man...

“What’s your name?” he asks, pulling you out of your daydream.

You grin, “(Y/N).”

“Pretty name, (y/n).

You blush, “Thanks, I was born with it,” you say and you hear a muffled laugh through his suit. “Only because your a stranger and I don’t know you, I have to ask, how do I know you’re one of the good guys? And not a bad one using your powers of manipulation to trick me?” you raise an eyebrow, merely joking with him.

“Come on,” he says, shaking his head with a laugh. “Does this look like the face of an evil villain to you?”

“No,” you giggle, knowing someone this sweet couldn’t possibly be evil. “But technically I’m not seeing your face, only a mask.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, dropping down to stand in front of you, a bit taller than you, but a comfortable height difference, and not at all what you expected. “There’s a reason for that.”

“I won’t pry. I understand how super-heroes are with their secret identities and such,” your eyes glaze over him, smiling softly. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, but I really should be getting back. Thank you for... being here.”

“I always am,” he says, and you can see the outline of a big smile through his suit, warming your heart in ways you didn’t think were possible. “It was nice meeting you, too, (y/n). I real- I hope to be seeing you again. If... if you want to.”

“You seem nice enough, spidey,” you say, lips curling when you look at him. He laughs nervously, very happy that he’s wearing a suit right now to cover his inhumanly red blush. “I think I’ll find you.”

“Not if I find you first,” he says, shooting one of his webs up the building and swinging himself from wall to wall, jumping and flipping onto the roof of the building.

“Show off,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head with a fond laugh and smile, trying to find your way back to the restaurant. 

A few minutes pass before you realize you have no idea where you’re going. You stop in the middle of the sidewalk, throwing your hands up in frustration, spinning yourself around to find anything familiar.

A hand touches your shoulder, scaring you for the second time today, whipping your head around to be met with a familiar pair of gentle, brown eyes.

“I am just... really jumpy today,” you sigh, running a hand through your (y/h/c) colored hair. “Do you have any idea how to get back?” you look at him.

“Yes,” Dimples. He sounds breathless and his hair is ruffled from the wind, wearing a lazy, wide grin like he’s been running. Your heart just about stops right there in your chest when you see him. “I’ve lived here for my whole life, if anything I know too well where everything is.”

You shake your head and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear shyly, “Can you show me then?”

“Oh! Yes,” he says, gesturing in front of him. “Follow me, then, m’lady.”

“M’lady?” you repeat, stepping in time with him, he flushes at that. He blushes a lot, you notice and you don’t know what for, but it’s almost like his natural state is always being nervous with flushed cheeks and messy hair. 

“Uh... sorry, that just slipped out,” he says, flustered. 

“No, no,” you laugh, clutching onto his arm to steady yourself, his skin warm and smooth against your soft hands. You’re close enough to smell his hints of cologne and he smells you’re floral perfume, both mingling together in an absolutely intoxicating combination of aromas.

“I like the nickname, Peter. It’s cute,” you smile.

He beams, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” you say with a light chuckle, pulling your hand back reluctantly.

He smiles at you, your heart fluttering again at the sight like butterflies have been released in your chest, filling up your body with their beautiful, flapping wings. 

“Tomorrow’s training day...” you say as you keep walking together down the sidewalk. “I’m not sure if I’m excited to be with all of them, afraid I’ll feel self conscious with all of these beautiful people around me, or dreading the physical exertion.”

He looks at you, hanging on your every word, “We’ll just have to see tomorrow, then.”

You smile tenderly, “I guess we will.”

[joannalannister]

@kahlanhbic submitted:

Do you think if Joanna would have lived and been around to raise Cersei properly do you think Cersei would have turned out any different?

Probably.

MISOGYNY

The Cersei we know in the books is very misogynistic. Part of that is Westerosi culture, part is the influence of Tywin and his own violent aggression against various women, and part is Cersei’s own self-loathing, but I think another part – a big part – is her mother dying. I think when Cersei was a very young child, her parents seemed as constant as the stars, “eternal as Casterly Rock.” Joanna perhaps even more so than Tywin, because Tywin was “often away” in King’s Landing. Think what they must have looked like to tiny Cersei. Beautiful, tall, powerful, towering over her like gods. (“Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children.” –Thackeray)

(It is my headcanon that the ancient golden statues of the Seven in the small sept at Casterly Rock have a very Lannister “look” and when bb!Cersei prayed to the Mother, she prayed to her own mother, because they were one and the same to her, even with her mother right beside her.)

But then Joanna died, and I think that profoundly influenced how Cersei views women. To Cersei, the female body is something weak and soft and, above all, fallible. (To be fair, the incidents that would make Cersei hate her body started before Joanna died, but I think Joanna’s death cemented Cersei’s misogyny and self-hatred.) Women are weak, according to Cersei. They are “Vapid, weepy creatures, always telling tales,” treacherous, never to be trusted. (Since she was ten, Cersei has never trusted “anyone but Jaime”.) 

(EDIT to add: Contrast Tywin’s body in AGOT -- “hard as a man of twenty” -- with Cersei’s body in ADWD. Men’s (able) bodies are the long-lasting, celebrated ideal, while women’s bodies are a source of shame, a source of betrayal.)

Cersei also has this idea that she’s playing a zero-sum game; if another woman gains, Cersei loses, in her mind. For example, Margaery being queen diminishes Cersei’s own queenly status. Even before Cersei visited the maegi and heard the YMBQ prophecy, Cersei has feared that other women would take from her. They would take Jaime, they would take Rhaegar, they would take her position. Other women would take and take and take, she feared. (It’s what makes her so jealous and afraid of Sansa, Margaery, soon perhaps Arianne. Even the ghost of the “wolf girl” Lyanna haunts her.) 

If Joanna had lived, I don’t think Cersei would have quite as terrible views on women. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think Joanna being alive would be wash away all of Cersei’s misogyny, Westeros being Westeros. I think Joanna absolutely loathed women like Ellyn Tarbeck and Tytos’s mistresses, and I don’t think she would have liked Tysha at all. So there would have still been a lot of negativity toward women. But with Joanna alive, I think Cersei would have seen some female positivity to counterbalance all this negativity. 

(In the text, we see some glimpses of Cersei’s relationship with Genna, but – and this is just my headcanon! because grrm doesn’t delve into female relationships!!! including this one!!!! – I don’t feel like Cersei had the same close relationship with Genna that she might have had with her mother.)

***

Tangent:

Sure, Genna prepped Cersei for the tourney (likely at Tywin’s wishes, because Tywin can’t very well do that himself, can he) and afterwards Genna promised that Tywin would find someone better for Cersei (because Genna has massive faith in Tywin and was extremely loyal to him), and then when Tywin sent a raven that Cersei should come to court, Genna, in Tywin’s absence, explained to her distraught teenage niece what was going on and prepped her for it. So idk, the things Genna did with Cersei always seemed to me like … idk, like Genna was being a female!Kevan, acting on Tywin’s behalf, out of loyalty to Tywin. So these three instances, to me, seemed more about Tywin & Genna, and how they operated together (or apart, as the case may be), rather than them being about Genna & Cersei. I think maybe a lot of people disagree with me here … but I imagine these like … ~Tywin goes up to Genna, like, “I don’t know how to parent or show emotions, and women/girls are … you know … so please go do something with my daughter. Brush her hair or. Something.” and Genna’s like, “Anything for you, Tywin!”~ Like, she’s trying to help cover for Tywin’s massive failings as a parent, because she’s Tywin’s sister and House Lannister is ride or die. I had a similar headcanon about Gerion playing with Jaime, because Tywin never knew how to play.

***

… where was I … female positivity to counterbalance all the negativity … I think Joanna had many positive relationships with various ladies at Casterly Rock. She was obviously good friends with the Unnamed Princess of Dorne. I think Joanna and Genna were good friends. So I don’t think Cersei would have felt quite so hateful toward other women, and toward herself, if she’d had Joanna there to be a positive female role model. 

(However, I imagine Joanna had various problems herself, but I think she would hide those problems from Cersei as best she could, so let’s set those aside for now. I feel like everyone thinks I’m weird when I suggest that Joanna had her own problems, but idk how anyone can think living with Tywin was easy. For anyone. House Lannister is where life goes to be twisted in darkness; just ask that strange weirwood, “choking out all other growth”.)  

RELATIONSHIP WITH JAIME

I don’t think Cersei’s relationship with Jaime would have been allowed to continue, had Joanna survived. I still think that Joanna and Tywin both intended that Cersei marry Rhaegar, given that that plan was set in motion before Joanna died. I think it was wishful thinking on the part of the Unnamed Princess of Dorne that Cersei/Oberyn would happen, and I don’t think it was ever going to go through, but I do think that the betrothal of Jaime to Princess Elia would have gone through. (See: #jaime x elia) 

This is probably an unpopular opinion, but I think it could go either way in terms of which child leaves CR after Tyrion is born. If Joanna is very persuasive, Jaime gets fostered in Sunspear with the Martells. Crakehall, otherwise, just sooner than in the OTL. 

But I think there’s an interesting alternative to fostering Jaime, one that would separate the twins without Joanna angering Tywin. When Joanna is well enough to travel, I think she and Cersei could spend the rest of the winter in Sunspear. Joanna and the Unnamed Princess were BFFs, after all, and it’s important for Joanna to keep a close eye on Cersei, to prepare her to be a queen. Not a formal fostering in Sunspear, because I honestly think Tywin is too much of a dick, but, like, an extended vacation in the sunshine. 

(Wow I think I just solved one problem in my fanfic, thinking about it while typing this out. Cool.) 

And with Elia already taken, I don’t think Aerys can find a wife for Rhaegar, which opens up all sorts of possibilities, but I’m not too interested in most of those. If … something … happens to Aerys, I think Cersei/Rhaegar is a strong possibility in this AU. 

Anyways, I don’t think Jaime/Cersei is quite as much of a thing in this AU. Still possible, but less likely. I don’t think Jaime or Cersei need it to be as much of a thing in this AU. 

I think one of the reasons Jaime and Cersei turned to each other in canon – aside from Tywin’s belief in Lannister superiority – is that they were emotionally starving after Joanna’s death, and they sought comfort in each other. (This almost makes me think of the twincest as, like, emotional cannibalism. Hmmm. Gonna think more on that one.) With Tywin turning in on himself, Jaime and Cersei are left to grieve all alone, trying to navigate this massive trauma all by themselves, which I kinda think pushed them into each other’s arms. 

But if Joanna survives, Jaime and Cersei not only don’t have to deal with this trauma, they also have a mother to love them and show them affection. 

And the Tywin in this AU isn’t quite the man we know; if Tywin’s 100% cyborg in canon, maybe in this Joanna Lives AU he’s only 95% cyborg, so that’s 5% more fatherly affection than the twins saw in canon. Has to be statistically significant, right? With Joanna alive, Tywin is probably more willing to show emotion, more willing to at least try to be human. 

So I don’t think Jaime and Cersei are as emotionally dependent on each other in this AU. Which means I don’t think Jaime and Cersei first have sex at about 13. (That time in King’s Landing when Jaime decided he didn’t need Casterly Rock was probably not the first time Jaime and Cersei had sex in the OTL.) Whether they have sex later in life is an interesting question to me, but that’s getting into too many variables, so I’ll leave that off. 

So yeah, I think the twincest is less likely. Not impossible, because there’s a lot of underlying Lannister ideology motivating the twincest, but less likely than in the OTL. The outcome of the Rebellion is a big question here, and that’s going to affect twincest, but again, too many variables that aren’t very interesting to me.

CERSEI AND EMOTIONS

I think being raised with Tywin’s ideology fucks a person up no matter what, so I think Cersei still has some issues, regardless of whether Joanna lives or dies.  

For example, shortly after Joanna died, Tywin made this pronouncement in Cersei’s hearing: “You cannot eat love, nor buy a horse with it, nor warm your halls on a cold night" (AFFC). Tywin’s fascist masculinity has no place for love; it was a weakness in him that made him smile and even laugh, “not once, but upon three separate occasions!” So, after Joanna died, Tywin recognized this weakness in himself and crushed it as mercilessly as Castamere, until there was “naught but stone at the heart of Casterly Rock.” Unlike his father Tytos, Tywin was not one to let his “heart burst” (literally or metaphorically) with any sort of positive emotion. 

In the OTL, Cersei internalized all of Tywin’s fucked up views on love, to the point where she calls love a “disease” (ACOK, Sansa IV) and a “poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.“ Tywin’s whole worldview that Cersei adopted has fucked Cersei up, it’s completely fucked up her ability to form meaningful connections with other people so that “It had never been any good with anyone but Jaime”. She views her children as extensions of the self, and her relationship with Jaime is narcissistic, “one person in two bodies”. (I love Jaime/Cersei with my entire being, but this ship is deliciously fucked up. Everyone go follow my twincest sideblog.) 

Anger is the only emotion fascist masculinity truly allows, so after Joff’s death, after Tywin’s death, we see this barely controlled rage in Cersei, because she doesn’t know how else to react. Anything less than a display of violence is weakness, and weakness ill befits a Lannister. (Even just after Joanna’s death, what we see from Cersei is violence, when she sexually abuses baby!Tyrion.) 

Now, how do I want to say this? I don’t think that Joanna was immune to House Lannister’s fascist masculinity culture, but I don’t think Cersei would have been as emotionally fucked up if Joanna had lived. Like, Cersei is still going to be raised thinking that Lannisters are superior human beings, there’s still going to be a significant lack of empathy / compassion, she’s going to be arrogant, privileged, Lannister. 

But I don’t think it’s going to be as extreme, like, I don’t think you’re going to get Cersei viewing love as a poison. I think Cersei would be better able to express herself emotionally, in a healthy manner. I also think Cersei would be able to connect with (noble)people better. Basically, slightly better adjusted in society.

Beyond that…

If Joanna lives, in what ways does A/erys continue to harass her to get at Tywin and House Lannister? And how do these things affect Cersei? 

What happens in Robert’s Rebellion? 

Who does Cersei marry?

What is Jaime and Elia’s relationship like? 

What about the prophecy? Does it still exist? Does Cersei still go and hear it? Does she still murder Melara? 

Joanna’s death was undoubtedly significant to Cersei’s development, but so many other things – some of which have nothing to do with Joanna – have shaped who Cersei is. We can’t just pin it all down to this one thing in Cersei’s childhood. 

Also…

To simplify this scenario, I’ve kind of been assuming here that Joanna doesn’t do anything, um, damaging to Cersei. But what if that’s not the case? I kind of think Tywin was like, “OK, Cersei’s gonna marry Rhaegar. See ya in a few years, Cersei,” while I can imagine Joanna being a lot more, um, helicoptering. “Cersei, you have to do this, you have to do that, stand up straight, sit still, smile, no pressure but the well being of House Lannister depends on this.” I don’t think Cersei would necessarily be damaged the same ways she was in canon, but what about the damage Joanna herself would inflict, even unintentionally?

And what of Joanna herself? No one but @cosmonauthill seems to like my Joanna-Lives-But-Suicide headcanon, even tho House Lannister is overwhelmingly self-destructive in canon. *pouts* 

So there’s a lot of factors to think about here. 

I don’t know if I’ve addressed everything you wanted me to address because this is such a broad topic, but if there was something specific you had in mind for this AU that I didn’t touch on, just send me an ask! I also have a #joanna lives AU tag, if you want to explore more. 

Finally, I will just leave you with this fanfic by lilith-morgana because it is one of my favorites.