#also yes i do believe Soul has other children out there that man fucks excuse you

[spookysinner45]

Oh how much I loved and loathed making our rubber man's Araki sheet haha. You always say you feel you can see a vision of your favorite character in there and when you go to write it all escapes your brain. That's how I felt, and I do kinda apologize if he seems OOC in some parts. But with the help of friends over the course of my obsession like @magthemage, @white-nolse, @jellyluchi, and @theschneckenhouse who are all beautiful people with beautiful hearts 💙💙, I have a good idea how to grasp onto him and even Dan the Man Dan of Steel. If anything is hard to read, I'll make a digital copy to help since my hand writing is kindaaaa bad but for now. Enjoy Rubber Man how I see him deep within my heart.

[ledbiantastic]

Okay, it's time for my Harrow The Ninth read through post. Spoilers, obviously. Thanks to @shakespearerants, @irascibubble, and @mayasaura for encouraging me to keep going. Enjoy!

I am on page 33 of Harrow the Ninth and I am making a prediction. I initially thought the Body referred to the dead girl in the locked tomb, but now I think it's Gideon. We'll see if I'm right.

Page 44 says it is the dead girl in the tomb, but I'm not convinced it isn't also Gideon

Gideon must be important to have to be erased from Harrow's mind like that, right?

Did Ortus the First kill/try to kill Gideon's mom? The timeline adds up, they said he messed something up nineteen years ago, Gideon was 18 in the last book and time has passed

In the weird retconned memories, after every death, or during, someone says "is this how it happens" which makes me think it's, like, Harrow's brain asking that

Who are those notes from and to? What's up with that?

I love seeing Harrow spend time with Magnus and Abigail. I liked them

If Harrow is haunted, but this is not the real version of the past, is her mind creating the ghost? Is it Gideon? I don't think Gideon would write notes like that though...

Page 291 is Ortus talking to her like she's Gideon's mother? IS HE ASKING WHY SHE BROUGHT ALONG THE BABY?

Is Ortus' cavalier more active or something? Like he doesn't remember because she takes control?

Page 315 "he had seen me" who is he and who is me? Who is narrating this to Harrowhark? Is. It. Gideon? (Later I decide it's Palamedes seeing the Sleeper, who is also narrating and is possibly Gideon. We'll see if that's right.)

Is the poster on page 318 Gideon? Is It? IS IT? But Gideon's hair didn't go down to her shoulders. Is it her mom?

Are Camilla and Coronabeth on the side of the rebellion? BOE? Is old Harrow? I KNEW IT! But I'm sad they're on different sides.

Is Ianthe the spy? Is that how she knew Coronabeth was alive?

Does the Sleeper represent the part of Harrow and/or her brain that erased her memories and it's cleaning up the debris in her psyche? OR IS IT GIDEON? AKA the DORMANT part of Harrow-as-Lyctor? When the Sleeper is unmasked, will we see Harrow or Gideon?

Did Gideon's mother start the rebellion or something? Is that why they had a poster of her? Was she Eden?

So, Canaan house was on earth then?

Did Harrow (old Harrow) tamper with her own temporal lobe? Did Mercymorn? Ianthe?

Whose idea was it for Ortus to kill her then? John? Augustine? Mercymorn? Someone else?

Did Harrow break into the locked tomb? I want to believe she did, because I support her. But if not, who is the Body?

Shit, I can't remember what color Gideon's eyes were. Page 363 when Harrow's eyes are two different colors, black and gold

Ianthe wants to marry Harrow? Weird. I don't ship it. But I'm kind of stuck on Gideon and if I wasn't, maybe.

See a man about a queen? What does it mean? What is Ianthe doing? Also love that she cursed Harrow's hair to grow extra, just to be petty.

I'm so confused by chapter 40. What the hell is going on? Why is Harrow trying to be a cavalier? The fuck? Role swapped false memory? What is even happening?

Is Harrowhark's brain just, like, randomly spit-balling while she's dying or something? Love that Abigail and Magnus seem to be aware that it's not real.

OH OH OH THAT WAS GIDEON! SERVING THE COFFEE AND MAKING HARROW BLUSH IN THE THIRD(?) FALSE MEMORY OR DREAM OR WHATEVER! I love that Abigail is NOT having this, like, no I'm not gonna watch your romance novel version unfold.

I think I've noticed that the ones who have speaking roles the weird memories are the ones who died in the last book.

Are they all taking active part in these false scenarios? All the dead from Canaan house?

Oh my god oh my god here it is she remembers and she's so sad!

So she erased Gideon to save her soul. Nope nope nope nope nope I can't. I can't deal with these feelings. Y.Y

Who the fuck is the angry spirit?!?!

Who fucking stabbed her?

IS GIDEON DRIVING HARROW'S FUCKING BODY AROUND DURING A FIGHT? HELL YES! AND THAT MEANS I WAS RIGHT THAT SHE'S NARRATING!

OH AND I PREDICT THE GHOST IS CYTHERIA!

I'm still thinking about what Harrow did. It's so sweet and so sad and she's so lonely and she didn't even know how lonely she was.

Also I'm already excited to reread this series.

Oh yeah, this is GIDEON in here, swearing up a storm and trying to use a sword.

Okay, first I'm getting emotional just from heading Gideon's voice, then I'm emotional about what it was like for her to be in Harrow's body/mind, then I'm emotional about all the things she wanted to say but didn't have time, AND THEN I'M EMOTIONAL when Gideon says why she thinks Harrow did it and I'm like baby nooooooo it was because she loved you, not because she didn't want to rely on you! Honey, baby, no!

"Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it." HARROWHARK, I GAVE YOU MY WHOLE LIFE AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN WANT IT. 💔💔💔😟😟😟😭😭😭 Excuse me while my heart breaks.

Oh, also a bigger issue in this book is the whole concept of the afterlife? And it's messed up because of the emperor? I don't know why I wasn't prepared for that but I wasn't.

Ortus holding Harrow and pointing out that she and Gideon were neglected children is making my therapist soul ascend.

I'm such an idiot. His name wasn't Ortus, it was Gideon. He did kill Gideon's mother, that's why she shouted his name. Or they were in love? One or the other... Or both?

Harrow did a find and replace in her brain and it had unexpected consequences.

I've been leaning more and more towards the Sleeper and ghost being Cytheria.

Oh my sweet sword lesbian himbo, how I've missed you. "The sword I had to hold overhead in one hand as I used the other to keep everything inside you; stuff was coming out, Harrow, I don't know precisely what stuff because I'm not a goddamn necromancer."

Gideon is OCCUPYING HARROW'S BODY during a deadly invasion and is like, 'I'm gonna shut my eyes to reach under the shirt and get rid of encumbrances. I tried not to touch you, so don't get mad.' I feel like Harrow would be the first one to say 'do whatever you have to do to stay alive, you imbecile!'

So Mercymorn stabbed Harrow... So the heralds would eat her as a way to buy time? Was that the plan? Gideon calling her "my necromancer" made my heart do a thing.

I want to understand what she's saying about Gideon's mother. Was Gideon a science experiment? Like Kipo?

Where. THE FUCK did Cytheria get the gun?

Dulcie is *horny for revenge* Abigail is a BAMF and my new (and final?) prediction is that the Sleeper is Gideon's mom.

Gideon and Ianthe is a fun dynamic. I love how protective Gideon is, that she's mad at Ianthe for hurting Harrow's heart.

Gideon must have her mother's eyes to be freaking all the lyctors the fuck out.

"I wanted you to use me... I wanted you to live and not die... Harrow. I already gave my flesh to you, and I already gave you my end. I gave you my sword. I gave you myself. I did it while knowing I'd do it all again, without hesitation, because all I ever wanted you to do was eat me." Why am I crying? 😭😭😭😭😭 Why is this the most romantic thing when it's also full of insults and curses and is followed by a your mom joke? What a Gideon thing to do, be so romantic and gross and sassy all at once. I love her, I want to be her. Gideon forever.

Love that Ianthe also thinks Harrow got rid of Gideon because she didn't want her. /s I'm starting to worry that it's silly for me to hold onto the 'because she can't live without Gideon' explanation.'

"But Nonagesimus, you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I'd had your full attention." That's why indifference is the opposite of love, hate is still passionate attention. But this also makes me feel so bad for Gideon because she deserves to be loved, dammit!

Okay, "gall on gall" is pretty hilarious. Good job Ianthe.

Love that the ghost of Matthias Nonius speaks in meter because he's been so deified by the Ninth house, and he's confused by it. It's like people in a musical being aware they're in a musical, like, why am I singing?

Ortus' poem was important after all!

Is it the sword? Does Harrow have to destroy Gideon's sword? Because that would break my heart a little.

"It bewildered her, back at Canaan House, how the whole of her always seemed to come back to Gideon. For one brief and beautiful space of time, she has welcomed it: that microcosm of eternity between forgiveness and the slow uncomprehending agony of the fall. Gideon rolling up her shirt sleeves. Gideon dappled in shadow, breaking promises. One idiot with a sword and an asymmetrical smile had proved to be Harrow's end." I just... This is so beautifully written. And describing Gideon as one idiot with a sword is so perfect and right and I just... 🖤🖤🖤😭😭😭

No no no I hate this either/or bullshit! I know I'm a sappy optimist, but I want both of them to survive, damnit! I want Harrow to be able to go back to her body without losing Gideon's soul. I want Gideon to keep existing.

What does Dulcinea know?!?!

Commander? That's Gideon's mom, right? Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity

What does that all mean? Are those Eminem lyrics? What other language is in there?

WHAT'S ALL COME OUT?

I knew she was in the sword.

Oh my god, if you need John to get in the tomb, and she was trying to get in the tomb and had something, a tool... Samples... She was armed with the baby... Is Gideon's father John? Is Gideon the fucking child of God?

She named the baby Bomb... This whole series could have been Bomb the Ninth... Bomb Nav...

Yep yep called it, child of God. The first time they put that plan in action was to get sperm to make Gideon. The second time was so Harrow could kill the first Gideon.

A dad joke?! A DAD JOKE?!

Gideon and Harrow were so cruel to each other as kids. It just makes me so sad.

Was Harrow able to get into the tomb because she made Gideon bleed?

So is Alecto John's cavalier? Annabel and Alecto... Are the same person? I'm so confused. She's the body in the locked tomb? But how is that related to her eyes being in his genes?

Wait, the eyes switched? I continue to be confused. Did he do the lyctor thing but also put a part of both him and his cavalier into the cavalier's body? But she was never human? What's going on? Why do they think she never had genes?

Oh cool, Mercy killed God and now everyone's gonna die... ... ... Ooooor not.

I love that beating up Harrow is Gideon's job AND saving Harrow is Gideon's job. Very cute.

Sooooo Gideon the OG and Pyrrha both fucked Gideon's mom... With the same body...

Gideon, such a romantic, wishing she had Harrow's name on her lips as she died. "I mean, yeah, I was thinking about you too; if I could've turned that off I would've turned it off years ago" HAHAHAHAHA You can't stop thinking about Harrow even if you want to! God, what a sweet himbo.

"Yes, well, jail for mother" says Gideon... Is she referencing Miette? Jail for mother for one thousand years!

Okay, so we have definitely confirmed that the Body is Alecto/Annabel/God's cavalier.

What did Dulcinea tell her? That Gideon is moving her body around? Doesn't she know that? Shouldn't that not be a surprise?

Okay, so, wait, what happened to Harrowhark?

ARRRRRGH I'm not smart enough for this book! Or I'm not visual enough! I know I should recognize the description of bobbed hair and "lambent" eyes but I have no idea who it is and also WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO GIDEON AND HARROWHARK?! UGH NOW I HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE NEXT BOOK AND I'M GONNA BE SO IMPATIENT AND CONFUSED!

Well that was fun to reread. Impressed I got some things right, but mostly I was very wrong.

[canonicallysoulmates]

Supernatural 15.16

What can I say? No, seriously, what can I say this was such a disappointment I just wanna salt it, burn it and forget it. 

This is not what I wanted nor what we were told we were gonna get, the promo’s and the way it was promoted made it seem like this was gonna be a heavy brothers centered episode and we were gonna get to see flashbacks of Sam and Dean hunting solo together, without their dad, for the first time. It wasn’t.

This episode is snake oil. It was advertised in all the right ways to make us buy into it but it has no real substance or value.  

The plot is simple: Sam and Dean have to investigate the death of an old, sort of friend they made in one of the motel’s they stayed at back when they were little and haven’t spoken to in over 20 years. And let’s talk about this real quick because at the beginning Sam and Dean don’t know they’re going to investigate their friends’ death they think they’re going to the funeral cause the victim’s sister, who was also a sort of friend of theirs back in the day, invited them to the funeral to guarantee that they would go which is so stupid, people miss funerals all the time especially when they’re the funerals of people who they only knew for a week over 20 years ago and didn’t keep in contact. So, the stupid starts early in this episode. 

Back to the plot, the thing that Sam and Dean are hunting is something they had hunted and thought killed years ago back when they were the wee!chesters, and by “they” I mean….Dean and the girlie. I’m sorry you thought, we were gonna see young!Sam and Dean actually hunt together? No. 

The four of them sort of work together to figure out where the thing might be hiding and Dean’s all ‘I’m handling this on my own’ and Sam’s like ‘I’m going with you’ and Dean’s like ‘no’ and the girls like ‘then i’m going with you’ and Dean’s all ‘no’ and so he goes off on his own but the girl follows him so it’s the girl and him hunting this thing down while Sam is stuck back in the motel on babysitting duty of the girls little brother which I’m sure the writer is patting herself on the back for because at the beginning in the first flashback Dean was all ‘I used to babysit you when I was your age’ so now Sam is stuck babysitting...get it? Get it? I think it’s supposed to be clever…...excuse me a minute

*clears throat* where was I? Oh yes, so anyways after some investigating and Dean finding a bunch of children’s corpses they arrive at the hotel in time to see the thing they’re hunting attacking Sam and the other kid and Dean’s all ‘Sam get out of the way’ and stabs the thing which makes it turn to dust so they think it’s dead which we all know it ain’t but let’s talk for a minute about the fact that Dean just walked to see a monster attacking his baby brother AND HE DOESN’T EVEN RUSH TO CHECK ON HIM WHEN THE THING IS DEAD!!!! Also, this thing was hunting kids that were around Sam’s age but Dean doesn’t seem to give a fuck. 

So what was the thing Sam and Dean were hunting oh so many years ago when they did shit re-search even though we know that they knew how important research was but this writer doesn’t know how to write this characters in present time why would she be able to write young! them? Baba Yaga! But they still don’t know that they’ll find that out later in the episode, in like a 5min scene that really does not do this figure justice but neither does the rest of this episode as this writer doesn’t really care and treats Baby Yaga more like a traditional vengeful spirit. 

For real though, it is a shame that this writer doesn’t care enough because Baba Yaga is a folklore figure with so much history they could have really done something interesting and scary; such a famous folklore figure and she was treated like a footnote. 

But that’s what young!Sam and Dean were up to what about our Sam and Dean? Well, after they find out the truth that they’re there to investigate and not attend a funeral that happened a week before they go check what’s up at the motel since that’s where everything happened years ago and the dude died, Dean is feeling guilty af for so many reasons including that he had yet to tell Sam Jack was gonna die, at first Dean doesn’t believe it’s the same thing they had hunted but then he’s like ‘okay maybe it’s not as dead as I thought’ and leaves Sam and the girlie to do research while he has a scene with Billie where she tells him the end is coming and while that’s happening Sam finds out it’s the Baba Yaga and the girl gets attacked and then Dean returns and he and Sam go their separate ways to find her because of course the do and Dean gets attacked but Sam arrives and then they properly kill the monster. 

Anyways, it all ends with their “friend” telling Dean for like the 20th time that he has changed and then they have a hug which gives us our final flashback where after him and the young girlie say goodbye to each other him and Sam are waiting for John to pick them up and Dean’s all ‘I don’t know about this college thing but we make a good team’ which would be great if we had actually seen them work as a team.

With the thing dead Sam and Dean make their way back home and Dean tells Sam the truth about Jack dying. We’ll come back to this scene. 

And that’s the episode in a nutshell. It’s bad. It’s unforgivably bad. This is the mediocre, poor man’s version of Something Wicked. 

It’s got no soul, with the exception of one scene it’s got no emotion. It stays at the surface level, we don’t truly get to see young!Sam and Dean work together, we don’t really get to see their dynamic with each other, we don’t learn anything new about them, Dean clearly didn’t like Sam thinking about college but it wasn’t really explored he was just an ass to Sam about it and then was all ‘we make a good team’ but like I said we didn’t truly get to see them be a team so it just falls flat, there weren’t really any proper scenes between the young brothers, Baba Yaga is not explored she’s more a footnote, we also don’t get to see adult Sam and Dean hunt together. 

You compare it to other flashback episodes like Something Wicked, A Very Supernatural Christmas, Just My imagination to name a few, and you can’t. You can’t really compare it cause those episodes were well written and actually explored Sam and Dean’s emotions and their relationship. This episode is the worst flashback episode we have ever gotten and I wish it didn’t exist. 

I wanna talk about the young!Sam and Dean actors real quick cause no shade to them but I didn’t like them one bit not just because of the way they were written but also because they don’t really embody Sam and Dean’s personalities in the way that their predecessors have, I look at them I don’t see Sam and Dean. Also, their acting? Not the best. 

So, all around this is a failure as far as young!Sam and Dean.

There was one scene in this whole entire episode that had any sort of emotion: the final scene with Sam and Dean in the car where Dean tells Sam everything and about Jack dying and Sam is pissed off and they get into a fight. That’s the only scene where Sam and Dean got closest to acting and sounding like themselves and the only one that was worth something and I give full credit to Jared and Jensen for that because their acting in that moment was standing ovation worthy, they honestly almost made me cry. I think if this epi had been better written and emotions actually explored it would have managed to make me cry. 

I don’t like that the epi finished with the boys fighting, even less that the one proper scene we got between them was a fight but it was the best scene of the episode and it should be watched if for no other reason than to see Jared and Jensen put on an amazing performance, 

But that scene alone is not enough to save this episode. 

The writer of this epi once recommended that you could put the first 2 seasons of this show on as background noise and maybe if she hadn’t done that and actually paid attention to the foundation of the show that paid her bills she wouldn’t have given us the mediocre version of Something Wicked or would have learned how to artfully weave the main plot of a season into a stand alone episode like Phantom Traveler did instead of sticking in a scene right in the middle for some exposition. As it is, you can use her episode as background noise. 

Here’s the thing, you can make the argument that it’s not as bad as it could have been or as what we have gotten, or that we should expect the episodes to be bad because it’s all we’ve gotten, or that we should just be happy with what we get and listen you feel how you wanna feel about this episode and/or tell yourself what you need to make yourself feel better but that don’t work with me. I’m not going to thank the writers for taking a smaller shit on this show than they did last time, and expecting the episodes to suck doesn’t mean we don’t deserve better and that we shouldn’t be upset. 

And I am upset. I am angry. I am sad. I am bitter. I am disappointed. 

You know what stings most about this episode? What makes it cut differently than all the other shitty, insulting, disappointing episodes that have come before it? That this is the last time we’re going to see young!Sam and Dean. This was the last ever flashback episode. A badly written episode with barely any proper interaction between the young brothers, is the last time we’ll see young! Sam and Dean. 

I so badly wish I could recommend this episode but the truth is that I can't. What I can recommend, and I highly do, is looking up the final scene and enjoying that beautifully acted, painful, brother moment. And then if you still want to watch young!Sam and Dean, just re-watch Something Wicked. 

In conclusion,

[anjanettexcordonia]

Ties That Bind

**Trigger Warnings** 

DARK DARK DARK 

-NSFW/Mental Health/Violence/Rape Minimal fluff if any at all tbh. 

***If you are sensitive to any of these please do not read. 

Pairing: Liam x MC, Liam x Riley, Drake x Olivia 

Word Count: 4,189 (I know its forever long but its worth it in my biased opinion) 

This is my first time writing any kind of fiction. I was inspired by all of you amazing writers! I received positive feedback on this chapter so I’m hoping you all like it too! Its very dark and very very twisted. I can not emphasize it enough. 

**READ WITH CAUTION**

Excuse any grammatical errors or misspellings. 

This will be a six part series. I do not have a timeline for when I will post. (I’m a mom & work full time) 

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry.

“Riley it’s time to go, My Queen.” Liam yells from the first floor of their quarters. “Drake & Olivia are already almost to Lythikos with our children and we are still at the palace! Let’s goooooo my love!”

Riley & Liam were preparing to head to their Valtorian Estate for a night before heading to the United States for a week long excursion at their Biltmore Estate in North Carolina. The Biltmore was their American private residence. Left to her after the death of her mother. They went twice a year just the two of them. Their children had never stepped foot on the property. Much less America. Riley hated America. She used the country only to satiate her needs. Her father and sister never visited the Biltmore Estate. Her father primarily lived in his penthouse in New York. Her sister never left their childhood home in the Hamptons. The Biltmore was hers to do with as she pleased. 

Riley and Liam make their way down to a blacked out Cadillac Escalade waiting for them in the Royal private exit of the garage. 

“Liam, let’s call Drake & Olivia one more time before we get to Valtoria. You know after tonight we won’t be communicating with anyone for a full week.” Riley winked at Liam. 

My God this woman is my everything. How did I survive without her? Liam thought. 

Liam pulls out his iPhone and scrolls to Olivia's name and hits call. 

“Yes your majesty,” Olivia purrs into the phone.

 “Hello Liv, just checking on the kids. You and Drake know Riley and I will be incognito for a week. Remember if it’s an emergency reach out to Hana and Maxwell. Do not contact us unless it’s literally life or death.” Drake yells through the phone, “Li we do this twice year every year since the first little squirt you two brought home. We got this. By the way what exactly do you guys do in America that you’ve never told us?” 

“This trio is a joy. They are perfectly fine. Uncle Max is on his way with Auntie Hana. This should be a Mary Poppins nightmare.” Olivia chuckled.

“It’s just our special time. Not as King and Queen of Cordonia but as husband and wife. That’s all.” Riley replies. Liam squeezing Riley’s thigh at her smirk, knowing full well that wasn’t exactly true. 

“Tell our babies we love them, and take care of and protect them while we’re gone. Don’t let Max feed them too much sugar. They will never sleep!”

Always,” Drake softly spoke, “Uncle Drake and Aunt Livvy are going to show them how fun we really are!” Ellie squeals in the background at her Uncle. 

Liam & Riley end the call with a sigh of relief. This trip was going to be catalyst. They both knew they were coming back to Cordonia forever changed. 

Three hours later Valtoria came into view. The sun was beginning to set over the cascading waterfall behind the large castle. Riley and Liam had been catching up on last minute emails before they arrived. They had an understanding between each other that during their two weeks a year no work was allowed. No cellphones other than 1 for emergencies only. No laptops no tablets of any sort. They completely unplug. 

Bastien stopped the suv in front of the large estate. Liam hopped out running around to hold the car door open for his wife. HIS Queen. 

Gladys met them outside the door. 

“Your majesties” Gladys dipped into a low curtsy. 

“Hello Gladys” Liam replied. Is everything ready for our stay tonight and departure in the morning?” 

“It is.” Is there anything else Your Majesty requests?” 

“No thank you Gladys.”  

As they walk towards the entrance of the large French Gothic style castle, Liam scoops Riley into his arms bridal style and walks her across the threshold. 

“Good night everyone. Gladys have our usual chicken tangine, apple butter bread, balava & chocolate cake left in the kitchen. Everyone is excused for the rest of the night.”

Gladys nodded her head at her King’s command and curtsied as he walked up the grand staircase. 

“Thank you, Gladys!” Riley yelled down at her. 

Gladys and Bastien both knew what that meant. Get out now. Do not come back until sunrise under any circumstances. Gladys and Bastien were the only two who knew. And also who knew why. 

Liam carried his bride to their suite. Their bedroom at Valtoria was protected. They had it modified during their engagement. No one was allowed entrance. Gladys was the only person granted entrance for 2 hours to clean after each visit. And only under the watchful eye of the Queen herself. This belonged to them. They maintained this room. Not staff. Not like the palace. 

The entrance of the door was built almost as a panic room. A large heavy blast proof door protected the entrance. A Handprint scan of both the King and Queen were the only way of access to their master suite. That entire room was reinforced. It was safe. Nothing and no one was coming through to hurt them. If they ever needed protection, this is where they would bring their family. For now, it wasn’t for their family. It was a source of healing and triumph. It was terror and torture. It was love and pain. 

Most of the other service members believed they were simply paranoid. Ruling a country you had a right to be paranoid, is what they told themselves when they walked by the master suite. Some were curious about what was behind that heavy steel door. No one ever attempted to sneak peek. They knew better. No one could explain it, as the king and Queen were very kind and fair people, there was a vibe or an energy that everyone could feel from them. It was uncomfortable. Sometimes there was no emotion from either of them. Hollow blank stares & flat monotone voices. That rarely happened. And when it did, their week vacation was close. Whatever they did during those 2 weeks out of the year made them better each time. 

🍈

Liam flashes his million dollar smile down at his wife as they enter. His manhood already dancing in its confines. They enter their bedroom and swiftly close the door.  Their bedroom in Valtoria is for them. And them only. No one including their children are granted access. And for good reason. The master suite of Valtoria has a large four-poster bed. Above the bed hung a large medal bar suspended from the ceiling with leather arm straps. arm and ankle straps hung from each corner of the bed. The walls were adorned with shelves of Belts, gags, riding crops and rope. There were shelves of weapons large & small daggers and swords. 

The walls were a deep maroon. It was still exceptionally regal but with a darker contrast. This is not a place most people would be comfortable walking into. Most people except the King & Queen of Cordonia. 

Liam kicked the door shut with a force that made the door trim rattle. He tossed his Queen on to the bed, climbing on top of her. He pulled her full lips into his mouth and breathed her in. He could never get enough of her. How did he survive without her? Without her touch? Her voice? Her scent? He never needed anyone except her. Only her. Forever her. No one could calm him like she could. She was his safe house and his haven. He could do things with and to her no one else could understand. Her crystal blue eyes darkened into the depths of the ocean only for him. He knew her. He was her. They were one. Not only in marriage but spirit and soul. They were connected. 

Riley stared up at her husband taking in every perfect feature and every invisible flaw, only flaws she could see. Only flaws she could love. She understood him. She never had to ask why. She was never afraid. It was Game, Set, Match the first time she locked eyes with his deep dark painful eyes. She could sense him before she ever knew him. Her long honey blonde hair pooled around her head as she sank into his fiery kiss. He was the only man she ever willingly kissed. The only man she allowed to ever touch her body. He worshipped her. He was her breath. She couldn’t breathe without him filling her lungs. He filled the deepest parts of her. Parts only he knew existed. Parts that were created not born. Evil. In every sense of the word. 

Fourteen Year Old Riley. 

“Mother, why are you crying?” Riley watches her mother standing in her large walk-in closet pouring herself another drink. 

“Just go away Katherine Riley.” Ashley sighed. Riley could her the sadness in her voice. Usually her mother just ignored her. 

“Mother I..I.. I think it’s best we all stay at school for the summer this year.” 

“I SAID GO THE FUCK AWAY! WHAT DONT YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THAT?”

Riley felt the sting of tears in her eyes and she quickly turned to walk away. 

“Wait Katie” Ashley sighed. “It’s time we had a conversation. You're old enough now & after the things you’ve seen and heard throughout your life, it won’t come as much of a surprise to you, I believe.” Riley turned around. Eyeing her mother not sure what to make of this conversation. 

“Your father & I had what you would call an arranged marriage per se. People of our status in life, it’s not uncommon. We dated some. A short while I suppose. Coming from the families that we do it’s important to ensure that our wealth will always continue to grow, we married after a few months of dating.” Ashley took a long sip of her gin & tonic. “To our parents' delight. Not ours. Not mine.”

“Immediately after we married things changed. I was a virgin & I wasn’t ready yet. I wanted to love my husband first. He stole that from me in the most horrific of ways. And you were the product of that. When I look at you, that’s all I see. I see violence, blood and stolen innocence. Each of your siblings were the products of the same. Violent and brutal attacks. Each time left me broken. After the last assault he shattered my pelvis and ruptured my cervix. I can no longer bear children. That’s all each of you are to me. Your father is evil. An evil which you’ve never known. Next time he will kill me. I’m leaving tonight.” 

Riley stood stunned. Trying to wrap her mind around what this woman in front of her has told her. She couldn’t understand. She knew her father tortured her mother. She had her the screams and the slams at night. She saw the blood stained carpets and walls in the stairwell in their Hamptons beach house. She knew her father was evil. All too well. Ashely has no idea the hell her children had been going through. He tormented them as well. He would sneak into her room in the middle of the night when the screams finally ended and watch her. Her brothers never spoke of their trauma but she knew it was there. 

“Can we come with you Mother?”

“No.”

“Can you wait until after my birthday? It’s tomorrow Mother?” 

Riley wasn’t sure why that memory had flashed through her mind. She furrowed her brows in confusion. 

“What is it Riley?” 

“I was thinking of the night before he killed her. Random I guess.” Liam leaned down and kissed her forehead. 

“My King” Riley sighed, holding his forearms in her grasp. 

“Yes My Queen?” 

“Are we prepared for our return to the estate?” She asked, leaning into to bite his shoulder as he hovered over. 

“We are. Our gifts are already waiting for us. They were delivered this morning. They are being fed and groomed as we speak my love. I’m ready for our warm-up before the real work begins.” 

Riley’s stomach groaned. 

“I’m ready. We can eat when we’re finished.” 

🍋

Liam pulled Riley to her feet. He tugged her top above her head. He was thankful she wasn’t wearing a bra. He leaned down taking a taut pink nipple in his mouth, swirling his tounge until it was a hardened peak. He showed the same attention to the other nipple. Riley pulled Liams t-shirt over his head. She always worshipped her playground. She licked her way between each sculpted ab. Liam gripped her hair as she slid his sweatpants to the floor. She leaned on her knees engulfing his engorged length in her mouth while she swirled her tongue all the way down his shaft.  She slowly eased him out of her mouth and stood back up. 

“Fuck Riley” 

“I just needed to taste you my King.” 

Liam bit his bottom lip as he pulled her sweatpants down. Leaving her lacy black thong on her hips. 

They walked hand in hand to the large bathroom. The bathroom sleek and modern. Liam felt the warmth of the heated floors on his feet as he lifted his Queen into the tub. He grabbed a bottle of baby oil off the counter. He poured a generous amount into his hands and covered Riley’s body in oil. He gently lifted her from the tub carrying her back to the bedroom. He climbed the small steps on to the bed standing on the mattress. Riley lifted her arms into the arm straps suspended from the high ceiling. Baby oil kept her skin protected and also made it more of a challenge for them. 

Once she was firmly secured into the arm and ankle restraints with only the medal bar for her to grip onto, Liam stepped off the bed. 

“My Queen, what pray tell interests you tonight?” 

“Torture me Liam” 

“As you wish my Queen, safe word?” 

“Celeste My King” 

Liam smirked at her chosen safe word. Oh Celeste will know who her king is too when we’re finished with her. Won’t she my Queen? 

Liam grabbed a riding crop from the wall and smacked Riley hard across her bare ass. Thong still in place. Riley winced as she heard the crack of the crop against her slick skin. 

“Please my king” 

“Shut up, you don’t speak until I tell you to open your filthy mouth for me” 

Smack. Smack. Smack. 

Liam pulled a small dagger from the bedside table. The handle adorned with red rubies in the shape of W & K. King William Constantine Rhys & Queen Katherine Riley Vanderbilt Rhys. 

He ran the dagger along her torso up to her neck tracing old subtle scars. 

“Open your mouth baby” Liam whispered. 

Riley opened her mouth. She could feel her core pooling. Moisture threatening to drip down her thighs. 

Liam slid the dagger over her flattened tongue flipping it over in her mouth. He slid the dagger down her chin to her throat. He pressed the dagger more firm into her skin causing her blood to bubble to the surface. He sliced gently to her belly button. Riley wincing in pain but loving the feel of cold dagger dragging down her flesh. 

Liam knelt to his knees and clasped his mouth around her nub. Still holding the dagger against her thigh as he gripped her. He dragged the knife across her sex and sliced her underwear in two. 

Liam delved his fingers into her sex as hard as he could. He swirled his tongue around clit. Liam pumped and curled his fingers in out of her fast and hard. His rock hard length dripping precum. 

More Liam Don’t stop.” Riley screamed. 

Hearing Riley scream made Liam abruptly stop completely. Fingers still inside her, Liam pulled his head back to look up at her. 

“Did I tell you to speak?” 

Sliding his fingers out, Liam grabbed the crop and slapped it hard across her dripping pussy. 

“You speak when I say. Next time I won’t be as calm with you.” 

“Fuck you Liam” Riley screamed, Venom dripping from her lips. She was seething at his refusal of her release she so desperately needed. 

Riley covered in welts from the crop and dried blood across her torso, Liam unhooked each restraint. 

“What the fuck Liam? We aren’t finished playing.” 

Liam slapped her hard across the face with the crop. Riley’s head falling to her shoulder. Fire burned in Liams eyes as he watched the blood drip down the corner of her mouth. Riley reached for the dagger as Liam crashed his mouth onto hers. Riley could taste a mixture of copper and salt on his tongue. 

Riley dragged the dagger across Liams thigh drawing a bit of blood. She reached the hair on the nape of his neck and pulled hard. Liams neck snapped as she slid the dagger across his jugular. 

She dragged the dagger across his chest, ripping his chest open watching the blood drip down his chest to his abdomen. 

Liam has enough. He needed her now. He had everything he needed from her. He pulled her into his taking the dagger from her and throwing it on the floor. The slight scabs that had formed from the congealing blood on her sternum ripped open with friction of their bodies rubbing together. Liam slammed Riley into the bed. He grabbed her ankles and spread her as far as apart as he could before slamming his hard cock into her waiting center. 

Riley screamed in pain and satisfaction. Her manicured nails digging into back as deep as she could grasp him. 

“I’m not holding back My Queen.” 

Liam pumped into her hard and fast. He put one hand on her stomach pressing down, the other hand securing her leg as he continued to massage her walls. 

Riley ran her fingers across the dripping blood mixed with sweat. She slid her bloody fingers into her mouth eyeing Liam. 

Liam leaned his head down and licked the blood pooling between her breasts and crashed his lips into hers. He felt Riley’s wall fluttering knowing she was close. His cock tightened as she came underneath him. Liam wrapped his hand around her neck and squeezed as his thrust became frantic. Riley’s eyes were wide seeing the power and fire in his eyes. 

Riley tried to say Celeste. She couldn’t breathe. He was choking the life out of her without even realizing it. He was pumping hard concentrating on his thrusts as his cock disappeared in and out of her glistening walls. 

“I. can’t. let. go. Riley.” Liam spoke between breaths. 

Riley understood. He physically couldn’t let her go. Even if he did kill her. It wasn’t malice or hate. This was raw pure love. This is what he needed from her. From his wife. And this is what she needed. She needed him to bring her to the brink of life and pull her back at the same time. This was them. 

Liam found his release deep within her. He released her neck right as everything went black. Riley’s eyes fluttered open with a satisfied grin on her face. 

“I love you so much my Queen.”

“I love you Liam.“

They laid together on their white silk sheets breathless. Both of their minds running towards the following week. 

“We should get cleaned up my love. We’ve made quite the mess I suspect.” Liam whispered. 

They both slowly rose from the cloud like confines in a state of stupor.

They made sure to always have white sheets to see every drop they spilled from each other. They’re bodies marked from each other’s carnal pleasure. A release unlike any they’ve shared with anyone else. 

“My King you did well. Let’s leave the sheets for tonight.” 

“Very well my Queen. I’m not finished with you yet. We will have a week before our next release.”

The dawn crept through they’re tightly drawn curtains. Riley stretched reaching for her husband but found his side of the bed cold. Riley slowly rose from the bed. Still naked and marked from their endless night. Riley made her way to the shower to find Liam soaking in the tub. 

“Join me?” 

Riley slid in front of him feeling the sting from her open wounds that covered her body. 

“We have a long flight to states in an hour. Are you ready for this Riley?” 

“Liam It’s time. It’s time to take off our masks and savor the tastes of revenge. Of freedom.” 

“This is our last time. We need to take our time with them. Please don’t make it too quick like last time with Madeline.” 

“My king, I take offense.” Riley huffed. “I gave you the release you craved with Madeline. Her life was a sweet release for me.” 

An hour later the King and Queen bordered their private jet to American hand in hand. 

Biltmore Estate

“I can’t believe I’m doing this for these twisted fucks. Fucking monarchs just get to do whatever they want with whomever they want.” Anthony muttered to himself. 

Anthony was the groundskeeper. He took care of everything for his King and Queen during their stays. And they paid him handsomely. He primarily resided at the estate to maintain the grounds as well as the estate itself. The estate held many secrets that he was tasked to solely hold. 

“Please” a raspy voice called out. 

“Shut up Celeste. Your King is on his way.” 

Celeste let a muffled cry as she heard the bars slam shut. 

“I’ll be back to get you cleaned up when I’m finished with Ashley and Amelia.” 

The private jet landed at the airport in Raleigh North Carolina. Liam and Riley made their discreetly to an SUV meant to take them to their estate. 

“Your majesty King Liam” Anthony bowed. 

Liam rushed in. “Hello Anthony, you are dismissed. I’ll need the keys to the Bowels please. Our gifts are secure and ready I presume?” 

“Yes your majesty, they have been cleaned, fed, and await you. I will take my leave now.” 

Riley waited in the suv until Anthony left. She couldn’t maintain a stoic facade during their times away. She spotted Anthony’s car pull away from the estate headed to the servants quarters. Riley rushed out and straight to Liam pulling him into a lustful kiss. They made their way to the nicknamed Bowels, a cellar that has been retrofitted with cells. They hold Liam and Riley’s victims as well as their aggressors. 

“Wait Liam, why is Anton here?” 

Riley looked on the computers outside the cellar doors in the security room. They were only supposed to have 3 women. She didn’t understand. What was Liam up to? 

Liam smirked. Suddenly a loud knocking was coming from the front doors. They glanced down at the monitors. Riley’s eyes widened when she saw the fiery red hair standing in front of the cameras. 

“Liam uh where are our children? Please...” 

“Riley. They are with Max and Hana in Lythikos. Leo will be there soon to help with them as well.  Don’t worry my love. Now to explain about Drake and Liv. They needed to see the truth. About them, about us. I’m ready to share parts of our true selves with the family we created.” 

Riley nodded. She was not in a teaching mood. 

“Private now Liam.” 

“What Riley? What’s the problem?” 

“The problem? How can we be US with them? I’m not here to teach them how to become sociopaths like us Liam. Fuck.” 

“Relax baby.” Liam only used the baby pet name when he was confident in his prowess. 

“Fine. They better not fuck this up and I’m not holding back.” 

The two couples made their way to the cellar door. Liam held Riley’s hand while he unlocked the door. The electronic key and palm scanner both sprang green in sequence. Drake and Liv quickened their breath. 

“We have a ritual guys if you don’t mind standing back. And you can join if you like.” Riley calmly stated. 

Liam and Riley stripped naked. Liam pushing Riley against the cellar door in a hungry kiss. Liv admired the marks and scars the two in front of her were covered in. Some old, some new. She was intrigued. Drake’s breath quickened. They joined their best friends in the nude. Liam and Riley glanced behind them noticing Liv and Drake in the same fashion. None of them faced with the pain they had felt at sometime or the other. The abuse. The abuse that twisted them into who they were. Not who they had become. 

The door opened. Celeste gasped seeing her half brother, sister in law, the scarlet duchess & the commoner walking through the door naked. Celeste had no idea what circle of hell she was about to enter. Nor that there were others destined to meet the same fate she would soon come to meet. At the hands of her King and his Queen. 

“Hello Cece” Liam laughed in a voice unrecognizable to the others in the group yet all too familiar to his wife. 

The demons have come out to play.

[marveloustrauma]

so, I'm clearly seeing things that aren't there

okay...

I am truly ill prepared for the next MCU phase. why you ask? well, when the MCU first launched their debate film IRON MAN in 2008 I was but 10 years old. I grew up along side many of these characters, some I love more than others it's true, many who were not treated well by the writers/producers and some who have come to pass. while watching a video essay the creator pointed out how the MCU's titular hero and villian are both fathers. Thanos sacrifices his daughter in exchange for the soul stone and the 'greater good'. that's because in Thanos' mind wiping out half of all living creatures is considered a 'correction', a 'balance' must be kept and Thanos' is willing to sacrifice his own daughter in order to do so. in Gamora's (2018) famous last words "no. this isn't love". Thanos is toxic he claims to love his children but he tortures them, destroys them, harms them and kills them (both directly and indirectly).

Tony doesn't become a father until after the events of Infinity War, yet throughout all 3 phases of the MCU Tony Stark/RDJ is considered the 'father' of the MCU. In IRON MAN 3 Tony all but adopts young Harley, in CIVIL WAR & HOMECOMING this motif is pushed even further with Tony mentoring Peter Parker. seeing Tony being a positive father figure for so many young characters is clearly a well thought out part of Tony's character arch. this is even more important to think about when you consider how Tony didn't grow up with the best dad around (granted Howard/Tony's relationship needs to be discussed in a different post cause there's a lot to cover there). it's made clear to the audience that Tony had a difficult relationship with his father (in the comics it's flat out abusive, the MCU's writers treated Howard Stark kindly being more of dismissive and passive-aggressive towards his son). in the first 2 Iron Man movies Tony works to move out of his father's shadow, this is somewhat achieved in CIVIL WAR when Tony creates B.A.R.F. which allows him to work though the emotional trauma of dealing with his parents passing (as well as other things too probably this man has serious mental health issues). this progress is hindered towards the end of CIVIL WAR but Tony still manages to reconcile with his demons enough so that when he meets his father again in ENDGAME he now understands Howard a lot better. at this point Tony himself is a father to Morgan, he knows he can't be the perfect father (Tony has struggled in the past with doing the 'right thing' AVENGERS: AOU is a good example for this). if Tony wants to build a brighter future for his daughter and avenge the fallen he has to sacrifice his own life. and he does. Tony lays his own life on the line and is finally able to rest...

-- EXCUSE ME WHILE I FUCKING SOB REAL QUICK CAUSE FUCK I'M NOT OVER HIS DEATH --

unlike Thanos Tony makes the sacrifice play if Tony truly wants to correct what has been wronged he has to take on the full repercussions. yes it means never seeing his daughter again but Morgan gets to live, his daughter gets to live her life vs. Thanos' choices which lead to the death of many of his children even his most precious Gamora (who he murdered). Thanos is an abusive and selfish father. Thanos is very similar to the father Tony grew up with, the core of Tony's demons and insecurities and when faces them, faces Thanos Tony is brave, he is resilient, he is the protector. Tony does not give up to the bitter end telling Thanos the truth, "I am Iron Man". Tony knows who he is. He is the man who will make the sacrifice play for his friends, his comrades, for all living creatures and for his daughter. Tony is a good father, damnit his the best

-- HOLD ON THESE FUCKING TEARS --

for 11 years I called Tony my father. sure I had my ups and downs with the character no one ever has a perfect relationship with their parents and yeah, he is fictional. however, I'm an introverted kid with no father who will claim me and here is this amazing and wonderful character who is shaping my youth. idealizing Tony as my father is no different to someone else claiming their favorite character is their best friend or closest companion. your comfort character as they would say.

this is why I appreciate WANDAVISION so much! besides being pure perfection for a great number of reasons the Disney+ show captures all the many stages and feelings associated with grief. it makes sense for this show to be the sequel to ENDGAME (the show takes place roughly 3/4 weeks after the events of ENDGAME). Wanda is helping us all move forward and accept the death of the characters who were slain so that the story could have a 'happy ending', a win for the heroes and death to the enemy.

now sadly, I am still recovering. and that's okay. I know that even after their gone these characters are still a part of me, just like Vision is the part of the Mind Stone that resides in Wanda. they are eternally connected and bonded.

FAR FROM HOME deserves a mention ofc. The film focuses on many things so for me the time given on Tony/Peter's relationship doesn't go into full depth, personally. yes we discuss Tony's legacy within the film however FAR FROM HOME doesn't have the same gut wrenching stomach twisting effect as WANDAVISION (these are all personal opinions. mine might not be the same as yours). still it's worth mentioning as Tony's much darker past makes an appearance, a darkness in the form of Mysterio who comes rushing straight for Peter. a son bearing the sins of his father. in the beginning of the film this weight is crushing Peter, he is unsure, grieving and far too young for all of this. yet by the end, Peter knows who he is. he knows the truth and Mysterio "can't trick... [him] anymore". Tony trusted him, Tony beieved in him and for Peter that's enough.

where was I going with this...? oh right!

I'm sad and depressed as fuck. I am eternally grateful to Robert Downey Jr.'s for his portrayal of Tony Stark. I'm so incredibly impressed with this character's arch and I love the idea of two father figures battling it out with the loving, kind and supportive father like Tony Stark winning over an abusive nut sack like Thanos.

the MCU has this strange line that they walk. on one hand there are themes, motifs and stories that feel incomplete, not yet fully realized. just short of greatness. then there are these well thought out methodical almost philosophical at times stories that are being written right before our very eyes. I suppose this is what 'family entertainment' is. as a kid I looked up to my heroes believing nothing could harm them, because the hero would always win and get to go home. as a young adult I know that the greatest heroes makes the greatest sacrifices which means... they don't always get to go home. and... that's okay because I know that Tony can finally rest knowing that his family (Pepper, Morgan, Peter, the Avengers, everyone tbh) are finally safe. the recurring nightmare has finally reached it's 'happy end'.

on a side note...

shout out to Josh Brolin! Thanos might be a saggy sack of nuts but Brolin is a an amazing actor and should not be hated for his portrayal of such an iconic villian. remember, you can hate the character but you should also appreciate the actor for their performance!

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

Hola Mishamigos! It’s Friday and I am here with more nonsense from my SPN rewatch - dudes, we are all SLEEPING on Season 11, in both good and bad ways.  There is so much in just the first trifecta of “Out of the Darkness, Into the Fire;” “Form and Void;” and “Bad Seed” (since “Baby” deserves her own analysis) -  so come relive my rewatch with me.  This is a summary of some things that stood out for me (few are analysis, most are clowning; basically this is a pared down live tweet - you’re welcome/I'm sorry); copy/paste from the script is included with my own emphasis:

OUT OF THE DARKNESS INTO THE FIRE [11x01]

-There’s lots more to this episode, but really this is the most important and relevant part (also it’s too soon and I am offended, damaged, attacked and hurt) -

DEAN: Yeah, whoa. All right, take -- take it easy, okay?  (gesturing to the deputy’s wound) Bad guys?

JENNA: Rebar. I sought cover. I fell.

***LIKE EXCUSE ME, but what in the actual fuck.  Did they just decide to pull that from the episode four years later to emotionally traumatize us in the subsequent rewatches? I know it’s probably coincidence but my sad soul has not recovered *enough* for rebar’s first SPN appearance to be right now in this moment when I am blissfully 5 entire seasons away from the dead end in the road.

- The only other important part of this episode - when Dean takes the call from Cas privately first before putting it on speaker for Sam, and something about this exchange is so endearing-

(Dean’s phone rings) 

DEAN: Where the hell are you, Cas?

(The scene flips between Sam and Dean at the hospital, and Castiel in the woods.)

CASTIEL: I'm...I'm okay.

DEAN: You don't sound okay.

CASTIEL: Dean, I am fine. Besides, what I have, you can't help me.

DEAN: What do you mean, what you have?

CASTIEL: Just please tell Sam -- Rowena escaped with the Book of the Damned and the codex.

DEAN: Okay, forget Rowena. Where are you?

CASTIEL: Now, you tell me -- the Mark . . .

DEAN: Oh, really? You're worried about me after everything that I’ve --

CASTIEL: Dean, is it gone?

DEAN: Yes. I'm good. I mean, I'm not great.

CASTIEL: Makes two of us.  (Dean puts Cas on speakerphone) This is good news.

SAM: Hey, Cas.

CASTIEL: Sam.

***It’s just so poignant that Dean wanted privacy for the first minutes of that call, probably because he is still haunted about the beating he gave Cas in 10 and *other things,* and Cas is literally being torn apart by Rowena’s curse but he only cares about Dean getting rid of the Mark, and the world is ending but Dean only cares about Cas and where he is -  honestly this scene - I’m - 

***Further thoughts on the Animal Curse/Cas/Dean below under 11x03

FORM AND VOID [11x02]

(love the Genesis call back to this verse in the title - “And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.”)

-speaking of emotional trauma, this fucking shit again -

JENNA: Yeah. I pretty much grew up here. Learned to ride my bike down the road. Had my first kiss at that blue house over there. Lost my virginity up there (pointing to different house).

DEAN: I'll bet blue house was pissed.

JENNA: She was. (handing Amara to Dean) Do you mind?

***This frustrated/disappointed/angered/saddened me to NO END despite already knowing that it happens constantly on the show, because what was the reason?! Did they have to point out that she had a female love interest for this brief moment just to turn her evil and kill her off?  There was no need to include this detail.  It’s either blatant homophobia or willful ignorance (so also blatant homophobia) that this is what representation means.  I won’t go on because obviously we are aware of this and much has already been said/written about it, but still, fuck this.

-we meet Billie and there is more “FORESHADOWING”-

QUEEN IS SINGING “OH DEATH” aka Death’s entrance song from Season 5 and I am BLOWN AWAY by this almost as much as her amazing voice - like did they know at this point she would become the new Death season later? DID THEY KNOW? I need answers.

Seriously, go listen to it immediately; bask in its glory:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFOm5i6b56o

We also get our first mention of the Empty, so that’s cute that they referenced both Dean’s and Cas’s Season 15 ‘demises’ in the same episode (it’s not cute really and I am crying again now) ->

BILLIE: You and Dean . . . Dying and coming back again and again. The old death thought it was funny. But now there's one hard, fast rule in this universe. What lives . . . dies. So the next time you or your brother bite it, well, you're not going to Heaven . . . Or Hell. One of us -- and, Lord, I hope it's me -- we're gonna make a mistake and toss you out into the Empty. And nothing comes back from that. I know you're dying. I can feel it. You're unclean in the biblical sense. So I'll be seeing you again, Sam . . . Seeing you real soon. Name's Billie, by the way.

-another reason for me to continue denying the flaming trash heap that they tried to call the series finale-

Sam is dying here because he has been infected by the Darkness-vein-animal-exploding-people-plague so he goes to pray about it 

SAM: So . . . I know it's been a long time, but . . . Dean and I, we've -- we've been through a lot of bad. But this is different. This is my fault, and I don't know how to fix it. And if I have to die, I've made my peace with that, but . . . Please. Dean deserves better. Dean deserves a life. There are people out there, good people, who are going to suffer because of me, and I am not asking you to clean up my mess. Hell, I don't even know if you're out there, but . . . If you are . . . And if you can hear me, I, um . . . We need your help, God. We need to know there's hope. We need a sign.

**DABB WROTE THIS F-ING EPISODE.  How are you going to write Dean deserves a life here to just do what you did Dabb.  Don’t get me started on my feelings about this scene in the dark depths of my finale-denying soul.   DEAN DESERVES BETTER INDEED, SEASON 11 SAM. 

To rub salt in this particular wound, they show us THE cutest scenes of Dean with this damn baby so we can have feelings about how great of a parent he could be (also I ADORE that whenever Jared, Jensen, or Misha have scenes in later seasons with young children/babies it is SO clear they slip into their own natural dad mode without even noticing it; these guys just all seem like excellent fathers and it makes me mushy) and even Crowley picks up on that shit and makes his little ex-boyfriend joke (after Demon Dean and most of season 10 there is no way I will ever NOT believe that Crowley and Dean did not take a tumble; I will take no criticism):

CROWLEY: The child likes you. No surprise, really. You're very maternal.

LIKE WHAT IS THIS:

Speaking of King Jackles, next comes the episode he directed ->

BAD SEED [11x03]

-Cas/Dean parallels with the Attack Dog Spell/Mark of Cain-

This arc appears in the 10 finale and then runs through the first three episodes, culminating in this one.  Despite it hurting my heart to see our angel so bloody eyed and feral, I LOVED this parallel; it’s truly brilliant - Cas’s reaction to the attack dog spell is such a mirror to the way Dean dealt with the Mark most of 10.  It’s also beautiful that Dean is the only one that can pull Cas from the spell’s control at the end of this episode; that alley scene between the two of them in 11x02 is so tender and sweet.  I like to think this brought an entire new layer of depth to their connection, because no one truly understood how Dean felt under the influence of the Mark until now (someone write a fan fic about this exchange!!!!!!) I *love* this journey for them (please say that sentence in Alexis Rose in your head).  Bonus that  the episode containing my most favorite of *domestic* phone calls with Dean and Cas follows this one, and also Dean’s SHORT SHORTS follow because now he is just walking around the bunker in short shorts while Cas is there and I maintain this is because of this new level of closeness.  As previously stated I ACCEPT NO criticism.

ALSO OF COURSE THE FACE CUP THAT JENSEN HIMSEF DIRECTED HIMSELF TO DO.  I STAN A KING. I HEREBY DEMAND AT LEAST ONE FACE CUP PER EPISODE OF THE MINI SERIES JENSEN.

***I just saw something posted by @watchthebeesandfish​ back in 2015 when digging around the internet re: this episode - that this was the first time both Dean/Cas had seen each other as “themselves” since that heart wrenching bridge scene in 9x10, when Dean walks away from Sam/Cas after the Gadreel possession reveal (he goes on to take the Mark of Cain in the following episode, and has it the rest of the season through season 10 finale). That is brilliant and accurate and I BOW DOWN in humility to that parallel.  I now love this scene a billion times more. *single [wo]man tear*   Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this little trip down memory lane, thanks as always for getting through my rambling,  and HAPPY FACE CUPPING FOREVER.

[overheardatthecontinental]

Talk Chapter 11

AO3 Link

Marcus had faced armies. Had gone head-to-head with mob bosses and mafiaso assholes. He’d been shot, stabbed, tortured and looked death straight in the eyes on more than one occasion. Every encounter had only made him wiser. Each scar had only made him stronger.

And despite all his prowess, his strength, his wisdom, Marcus was fairly certain he wasn’t going to survive Helen Kingston.

John had warned him.

Hell, Helen had warned him.

He’d taken it as a joke. Just because John had fallen victim to sharing his feelings certainly didn’t mean that Marcus would.

After John had left, they made small talk. They watched a movie, and then another. Helen would read until her eyes hurt and then they’d watch another movie.

It started with a simple question, asked over chopping vegetables to have with dinner.

“How’d you get involved in the Underworld?”

“I saved a man’s life in Vietnam. The son of a prominent member of the mob. When we came back to the States, he recruited me."

And Helen had seemed genuinely interested. She asked questions so casually, he hadn’t even realized that they were delving into his past. Not until their plates were in the sink and Helen was curled up on the couch, facing him in his chair and nodding along to a story from his early days as a New York City mobster.

Before he knew it, he was lost in his own past, searching to understand things he thought he had left behind.

“It just seemed like the right course to take. My father did it, his father did it. I think a part of me thought if I followed in their footsteps and joined the army, things would start to make sense. Like I would understand how my father viewed the world.”

“How he viewed the world or how he viewed you?”

The question stabs at him and Marcus looks away, “My mother used to defend him all the time. He never loved us the way he was supposed to. She said that the war had damaged him—that when they were younger, he was caring and loving. But when he came back, he had a hard time adjusting.

“I wanted to understand why he couldn’t get over it. Why he couldn’t leave the war behind. Why—” He stops himself.

“Why you couldn’t be enough.” Her voice is soft, almost hypnotic, lulling him in further.

He nods, despite himself. “He had a great job, a good house, a family… and it was never enough.”

Helen nods along, “You know, every generation has its experiences, it’s rights of passages, it’s issues, it’s stories. Your generation was built in that post-war haze that focused on going back to what had been normal before the war. Except there is no going back from that sort of cultural upheaval. Time changes, and values with it.

“And in that day and age, we didn’t really understand the consequences of war on individuals. So, your father came back, as your grandfather had a generation before, and tried to make sense of peace after having lived in a warzone.”

Marcus nods, “And I get that it must have been tough for him. I do. But then why get married? Why bring another person into your fucked-up life? Why bring children into the picture?”

“I can’t answer to your father’s motives.” Helen says softly, “At best, I can guess that he probably felt like it was his duty to rebuild America. To have a family and try to put the past behind him. But the past always has a way of catch up with us. And it wasn’t fair to the rest of your family and your father’s trauma is not an excuse for the pain that he put you through.

“In therapy, we use a term called ‘intergenerational trauma’ to explain this. It’s the idea that severe trauma, severe distress can follow each generation. Your grandfather probably brought his experiences from the Great War into your father’s life. And your father brought those experiences, combined with his own from the second World War into yours.”

“Didn’t know there was a term for it. But it’s why I don’t ever want children.” Marcus admits, jarring himself with the fact that he admitted out loud how much his father had affected him. “I couldn’t bare to pass that down again.”

“Which is entirely within your right.” Helen’s calming voice eases his anxiety. “A lot of people, particularly from the baby boomer generation and before, believe that we have some sort of duty to procreate. The remnants of generations’ past, I suppose. But the reality of the matter is we don’t owe anybody.”

He shivers at her words and wonders if she notices.

He’d laughed at John for being tricked into revealing his life to a pretty face, but it was so good to say the things out loud that haunted him at two in the morning when he was unable to sleep.

“I always thought I had moved on from all this.” Marcus shakes his head, “That I left my father back in Idaho. Thoughts creep in every now and then but when I work, I can forget about it.”

Helen nods, “We forget how broken we are when we start to fixate on something else. But, eventually, we’re forced to look back at ourselves and face the truth: distracted is not the same as healed.”

And that cuts deep, but not as deep as the thoughts simmering beneath the surface. The knowledge that he had spent decades hiding behind jobs and contracts to ignore the rejection and isolation that seemed to follow him.

“So, there is no moving on, no healing.”

Helen offers him a small, empathetic smile, “I had this conversation with John just yesterday. We tend to think of healing as linear. Something happens to us, we give it time, and it heals. But that’s not always the case. You should know as well as anybody—not every scar heals. Sometimes a bone doesn’t set right.”

She lets out a soft sigh as she tries to find a way to explain, “Try to think of it in terms of a broken leg. If your broken bone is tended to right away, if it’s splinted properly, if you’re cared for during your recovery, it will heal. Sometimes even stronger than it was before.

“On the other hand, maybe you’re alone. You splint your own bone the best you can, but there is no one with you to share the burden. No one to help you heal. The bone may mend but, oftentimes, it won’t heal correctly. Maybe you walk with a limp. Or maybe you walk fine, except on days when it rains. The trauma comes back, haunting you.

“Then, of course, your bone breaks and you ignore it. You try to stand but your leg can’t support you anymore. You pretend that nothing has happened, but all you do is injure yourself the more. So, what happens, then?”

“If you can’t heal, you’re dead.”

“In the animal kingdom, you would be.” Helen says, “But we are human. We are resilient and we can adapt and, even when we feel like we are, we are not alone. So, what happens if your bone doesn’t heal correctly?”

Marcus feels a shiver travel through his body, “We re-break the bone.”

“Very good.” Helen rewards him with a real smile this time, “We re-break the bone and we try again. And, most of the time, trauma isn’t quite so severe. Most of the time, we’re stuck somewhere in the middle. Our wounds heal, but they still come back, aching on days when it rains.”

He sighs, “But what does that mean? That even if I make peace with my father’s memory, I’ll still feel him haunting me now and again?”

“There are no guarantees, but it’s likely. We all experience trauma differently but it seldom disappears all together.”

Idly, Marcus hears the sound of a car on gravel but he shakes his head, still lost in his own thoughts, “And what, there’s no way to make it disappear?”

“Not permanently. There are skills you can learn to help cope with the memories or to restructure your experiences. But trauma engrains itself within us.”

“It’s stupid.” Marcus spits out, “I came out of ‘Nam without feeling a thing. I’ve killed more people than I can count, and I don’t think about it. But the thought of my father’s voice makes me want to scream.”

“The events that happen in our formative years leave far deeper scars than what comes later. You spent your childhood seeking the approval of a man who probably lost sight of who he was long before you were born.”

The door opens and Marcus catches sight of John, carrying a couple grocery bags and a suitcase.

“And you can’t hold yourself responsible for that.” Helen adds softly, checking over her shoulder. Her eyes scan John, assessing for injury before she asks, “Is that your blood?”

“No.”

Marcus swallows, forcing the heaviness weight on him back down his throat and motioning to the bags John is carrying. Still, his voice is gruff as he asks, “You go shopping?”

“Just picked up a few things. Soap, a toothbrush. Better coffee.” John reaches in the bag and pulls out a pint of ice cream, reveling in the way her eyes light up as he hands it to her.

“Oh, fuck yes.” She takes it and undoes the plastic wrap locking the lid on, looking at Marcus as she does, “Do you need some. too?”

“Marcus won’t eat that much sugar.”

“What I need is Cognac.” Marcus mutters.

Helen hums, “Was Cognac also your father’s drink?”

Marcus looks up sharply, “Pass me the damn ice cream.”

Helen tosses the pint to him and John sighs, “Hels, I thought I said not to break him.”

“I didn’t! We were just having a discussion.”

“Uh huh.” John watches as Marcus slips into the kitchen for a spoon, “I’ve never seen Marcus eat refined sugars. Ever.”

“Physical health is only one facet of being. Ice cream tends to the mind and the soul.” She says knowingly.

Marcus plops down on the couch next to Helen and hands her a spoon.

John raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Fuck off.” Marcus says, digging the spoon into the ice cream, “I have unprocessed trauma.”

He looks from Marcus to Helen, the latter of whom just shrugs.

“Couldn’t last one day without breaking somebody’s psyche?” John teases.

Helen swallows a mouthful of ice cream, “I can’t turn it off any more than you can stop counting exits, looking for weapons.”

Marcus nods, “I say next time we have a tough case, we just send her in.”

Not a chance in hell, John thinks even knowing that Marcus is largely joking. Still, he couldn’t deny that it would be hilarious to drop Helen in the middle of the Continental and just watch.

She leans to the side on the couch, looking up at him with her warm brown eyes. “Did you have dinner?” He shakes his head and Helen sighs, “We saved you a plate, just in case. Go shower, I’ll heat it up.”

“It’s okay—”

“Go shower.” She says again, leaving no room for argument as she stands, “And change in the bathroom! I don’t want you getting blood on our bed.”

Our bed. He tries not to read to much into that but holy fuck the way that sounded… The casual way that she said it felt so fucking right even if he knew he was reading far too much into the innocent statement. He pushes it out of his head as he acquiesces with a soft, “Yes, ma’am.”

She swats at his side the best she can from her seat on the couch to prompt him forward. John sets the grocery bags with actual food on the counter and heads to the back. He tosses the suitcase on the bed and finds his own sleepwear from the night before.

Grabbing the bag with the hygiene products, he disappears into the bathroom.

He showers quickly, watching the tub stain red then wash clear as he cleans the blood from his body. It had been a long day, as he had known it would be. And while John had hoped that DeLuca would change his demands, he had been correct in assuming that he wouldn’t.

Already, a clock was moving against him.

Three days until Senor D’Antonio and Gianna returned to Rome. Three days in which to kill him and his heirs.

Marcus had said they would find a way out of it, but John wasn’t so sure.

He’s run every scenario he can think of in his head on the drive home. For four hours, he contemplated possible courses of actions that he could take. They all resulted in either Helen’s death, which was unacceptable, or his own, which was unfortunate.

He cut the shower short, anxious to see Helen after spending a day dealing with people who wanted to do her harm. See for himself that she was safe and uninjured. Let himself feel a glimmer of joy at the sound of her voice, the energy of her presence.

Cloak himself in her scent and sound and sight. Memorize it all just in case he was unable to make it through this week with his life.

He changes into his sleepwear and quickly towels his hair.

There’s food sitting in front of the armchair when he returns to the living room. A plate with vegetables, potatoes, and chicken. Helen and Marcus share the couch and are passing the ice cream back and forth to one another.

John idly wishes he could use his phone to snap a quick picture for Sofia. Marcus with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s in his hand, a spoonful of chocolate ice cream aimed for his mouth…

Sof would have a field day with that.

Helen’s eyes meet his and he wonders, for the millionth time, what it would be like to kiss her.

He’s probably going to die anyway, already set for Hell. Would it be so wrong to steal a kiss before going to his death?

“Did you meet with DeLuca?” Marcus asks, snapping John out of his thoughts as he sits down with them.

He nods once, his eyes flitting to Helen. Not wanting to discuss it in front of her, John adds, “We’ll chat later.”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say he realizes as her eyes flash.

“Oh, no. We’re not doing this.” She bemoans, “You don’t get to shut me out of this.”

John shakes his head, “Helen...”

“I have every right to know what’s going on.”

“You don’t need to be worrying about this!” He insists and watches as her entire body tenses.

“Marcus,” She says, and her voice is just a little too sweet for John, “Would you mind stepping out for a moment?”

Marcus, ice cream in hand, looks between them, “I mean, I’d rather stay and watch you demolish him but—”

“Marcus!” Helen and John say together and the older assassin laughs, sliding to his feet.

“Guess I’ll just go downstairs and see if anything new has magically appeared since yesterday.” He pats John on the shoulder on the way to the basement, “Good luck.”

Helen waits for the door to close before she speaks, “We are not doing this, John.”

“Doing what?” He asks, resigned.

“You’re not leaving me out of the loop! I know that you think you’re protecting me by keeping me in the dark from what is happening, but I can handle this.”

Again, he shakes his head, “It’s not about what you can handle, I know you can handle this, but you don’t have to. I don’t want you to be worrying—”

“You don’t get to decide what I’m allowed to worry about.” She snaps, not unkindly. Helen pauses, sighing to herself. She moves down the couch so that she’s closer to where he sits and, gently, tries again, “John, I am doing what you ask. I’ve cut off contact from the world, I’m staying hidden. Meet me halfway here.”

His leg is shaking, she notes. His face is tense.

She reaches out across the space to where his hand sits on the armrest and lays her own atop. “I know things are going to get worse before they get better. But you trying to deal with this all on your own, without support, isn’t helping.”

He hesitates again, gathering his thoughts together before he admits, “I don’t want to let you know how bad it’s gotten. And not because I don’t think you can handle it,” He adds before she can say anything, “But because I don’t want to expose you to that. You might not like some of the things I might have to do.”

“We got to this point together.” Helen argues, “Hell, I’m more accountable than you are for this fiasco.”

John snorts, “No, you’re not.”

“I’m a licensed professional. I was the one in the position of power. I had a moral obligation to ensure the boundaries between us stayed clear. I knowingly violated that, okay? I got us to this point, too. So, please, let me help fix it.”

John lets out a breath, his shoulders settling. “I don’t like it. I don’t like involving you in this world more than you already are.”

“You don’t have to like it.” She reminds him, “But you’re going to deal with it, because I’m not going to let you carry the weight by yourself.”

There’s such force behind her words. And Christ, she would be pissed if he laid it all out. She would demand that he ignore DeLuca, even at the cost of her own life. And they would argue and fight about it, but ultimately, he would do whatever it takes.

But she’s not backing down and, while John has never been good at compromising, he is more than capable of recognizing when an opponent is going to fight until their last breath. She has that same look in her eye now.

“Okay.” He agrees. “Okay. But tomorrow? I… I don’t think I can handle that tonight.”

She nods and her hand tightens on his, squeezing momentarily, “Thank you.”

For a moment, she stays in place, looking at him. A small smile of thanks graces her face. He forces himself to look away from her lips.

“Marcus!” She calls, letting go of his hand and sitting back in her corner of the couch, “You can come back in.”

Marcus comes back up and makes a show of checking his watch, “Not even five minutes? Come on, John. That’s just sad.”

John smirks at his friend, “You think you can win an argument against her? Be my guest.”

Marcus winks at Helen and holds up the ice cream, “You want more?”

“Not now, thanks.” She replies and he puts the ice cream back into the freezer.

John takes a bite of his leftover, noting that this might be the first time anybody had ever thought to save dinner for him. It’s a little bit better knowing that Helen had thought of him when putting it away, certain it was not Marcus’s doing. Not that Marcus didn’t care, but he was more from the school of everybody fend for themselves.

Marcus settles on the couch and looks to Helen, “What did I miss?”

John finds himself smirking despite himself, “What, is she in charge now?”

“Have been since the beginning, but glad you’re catching on.” She says with a heart-stopping smile before looking back at Marcus, “Discussion is tabled until tomorrow.”

Marcus nods, “Fine by me. My head still fucking hurts.”

John smirks as he raises his fork, “Welcome to the club.”

Marcus shakes his head, “And you do this with her every week? Willingly?”

“It gets easier once you know what to expect.”

The older assassin looks to Helen, “We’re not making a habit of those discussions.”

“We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

John recognizes the look in her eyes. She’s an expert at subtle manipulation—letting you think you’re in control right up until the moment she snatches the rug out from under you. And by then, you’re too addicted to her kind words and soft stares to leave.

She’s magnificent.

Marcus sighs and glances at John, “How screwed am I?”

“Very.” Helen shoots him an amused glance and he feels his own gaze soften as he looks at her, “You know I wouldn’t change a thing.”

At least, about her.

Their circumstances on the other hand…

Her lips twitch slightly and yeah, John thinks, he’s going to do it. Not now. But before he goes off to face death, he’s going to kiss those soft, pink lips. He’s going to carry the taste of her with him to the next world.

Let that be how she remembers him—not as a broken man or as a murderer. But as someone who loved her completely.

That wouldn’t be so bad.

“Me, either.” She says and it takes everything inside of him not to fly across the room to her now.

“Yup!” Marcus says, very loudly, interrupting the moment that passes between them, “Therapy is not for me.”

Helen looks away, her cheeks tinged with pink. He watches her swallow before looking up at Marcus, “It’s not for everyone.” She admits, then teases, “Some people just can’t handle the weight and strength needed to address their inner battles.”

“Listen, Kingston…” Marcus says but there is humor in his voice, “If assassins actually started addressing the issues we all have with our parents, we wouldn't have the time kill anybody.”

She laughs at that, “God forbid.”

Marcus looks over her head, “Don’t you just want to set her on Winston? I want to know what’s going on in his head.”

“That’s the guy who operates New York, right?” Helen asks and John nods.

“That’s him. And, frankly, Marcus. I’d rather not know what’s going on in Winston’s head. Or anybody’s.” Looking back to Helen he adds, “I don’t know how you deal with knowing so many people’s thoughts.”

She shrugs a shoulder, “We all have our stories, but the same themes come up again and again.”

“Jung?” John asks.

“Very good.” Helen says, “Did you ever end up reading The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious?”

John nods, “I did.”

“Nerd alert!” Marcus coughs into his hand.

Helen and John both glare at him before she looks back to John, “I mean, you know my feelings on listening to anyone labeled an ‘expert’ but, at the very least, I agree that if you look close enough at peoples stories, you’ll find the same themes prevailing over nearly all of it.”

“And what are your thoughts on listening to experts?” Marcus asks.

John smirks, already knowing the answer, “Helen believes very strongly in subjective truth. Nothing can be taken at face value.”

Helen nods, “And people in the psych community tend to stick to their niches. The psychoanalytics stick to Freud, the REBT people stick to Ellis, Cognitive Behavioralists stick to Skinner. The reality is, they all work in their own ways. But to put all your stock in one school of thought, you’re going to miss out on a lot of relevant shit.”

Marcus smirks, “You talk with that mouth in your office?”

Helen inclines her head, “Only with John. But he’s got a thick skull. Sometimes you need to do things to catch his attention.”

“That thick skull is necessary to protect the small brain inside.”

John flips him off.

“He’s had a lot of undiagnosed concussions.” Marcus adds, ignoring the gesture.

“I’d smack you,” John comments, humor in his voice, “But I wouldn’t want to damage your hearing aids.”

Marcus smirks in response, glancing to Helen, “You don’t get to be my age in the Underworld without some wear and tear. You spend enough time around munitions and guns, your hearing is the first thing to go.” He looks over at John, “This one laughs now, but he’ll be exactly where I am in fifteen years. If he lives that long.”

Helen rolls her eyes, “Well, on that note, I’m going to get ready for bed.” Helen stands up, her hand brushing along John’s arm as she walks by. “Come to bed soon, okay?”

He nods, forcing himself to remember to breathe when she talks to him like that, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Good. Night, Marcus.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

She disappears down the hall, watching her long after she disappears. There’s the sound of a door closing and a sink running. He can still feel where her fingers grazed his arm.

“Henry.”

John looks up at Marcus, blinking in confusion.

“Henry.” Marcus repeats, “It’s my middle name. Good strong name, you know, if you’re starting think of what you’ll name your children.”

“Fuck off.”

Marcus laughs, “Jesus, John, you’re fucking gone.”

John glares slightly, “Really? Calling her sweetheart?”

The older assassin rolls his eyes, “Calm down, Romeo. I prefer my women not have the ability to psychoanalyze me. I meant exactly what I said—she’s a sweetheart.”

He nods, relaxing slightly. He’s well aware of Helen’s allure, even platonically he understands the way she manages to pull people in. A kind word from her is enough to hook anyone and, before you can remember to think, you’ve bared your soul. A search for absolution that can only be found in the quiet of her eyes.

“She is.” John agrees.

Marcus nods, “I, uh, wanted to talk to you about the marker.”

John raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t need it. Not for doing this.”

“You’re doing me the favor of a lifetime.” John states the obvious. This was no small thing that Marcus was doing for him.

Marcus nods, “I was. But, truth is, I’m happy just to do this for her.”

John huffs a small laugh, “I get it. She pulls you in, doesn’t she? So fast you don’t even know you’re sinking.”

“She does that.” Marcus pauses, thoughtfully. He looks to John and asks, “How long the two of you going to keep playing this game?”

He looks away, “Marcus…”

“You are both way too smart to be playing stupid to the looks, the touches. If I didn’t know the two of you and we just met, I’d assume you were married with the way you act around each other.”

Shaking his head, John looks to his friend, “Let it go.”

“John—”

“Let it go.” John says again, “I promised her we wouldn’t talk about it without her but… things aren’t looking good. And, if by some miracle, I’m still alive at the end of all this, what can I offer her?”

“She knows exactly what you are and she doesn’t care. She still adores you.”

John can’t even begin to address that so he ignores it, “She’ll never be safe so long as her name is associated with mine.”

Marcus stares at him incredulously, “I think that particular ship already sailed.”

John pushes his hair back, frustrated, because Marcus is right on that note. Everything was already fucked. But there was still something looming over John that forced him to add, “She deserves better.”

“Definitely. But she still wants you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“My ears may be shot to hell, but I’m not blind.”

John takes his plate, shaking his head as he stands up, “Goodnight, Marcus.”

“Night, dumbass.”

[simply-not-an-egg]

The Next Karate Kid - A Probably Very Opinionated Commentary by Yours Truly

I really am trying to go into this with an open mind; let’s see how this goes.

Starting off with a military band? K sure, you do you sweetie, and I don’t hate it yet so that’s a positive

Aha, a military REUNION, I see. And look at Miyagi with his medal!! Sweet!

So I think if I remember from reading the plot on wikipedia that Miyagi new this guy who was married to the woman he just said hello to

Y’all they got Miyagi’s name wrong. His first name is Nariyoshi not Kesuke. That is his middle name. Although in saying that, I feel like that was more or less revealed in Cobra Kai so idk, anyway, for future reference, Miyagi’s first name is Nariyoshi

Also Louisa Pierce? I assume grandmother of Julie? That would make sense

Ooh we’re in Boston for this, and look at that big white house

Yes, Louisa is grandmother, oh and hello Julie!

Julie is unhappy, a little moody, sweetie are you okay?

Alright so Julie’s an orphan! Why does Miyagi keep picking up either somewhat or completely orphaned children?? I mean, I guess that’s good but also, why?

Ooh yay Miyagi advice about losing parents and grief!

Alright so now Louisa’s gonna fuck off to California while Miyagi takes care of the child

Said child who has now snuck into some place - OH THAT”S RIGHT THE SCHOOL AND THE BIRD

Yes I remember this from wikipedia plot

I like birdy, birdy is nice, and yes Julie talk to birdy, birdy is unjudgemental friend

Now time for the Animal Studies me to take over, that wing is NOT bandaged securly at all. Wing bandages should be wrapped around the wing and on the body, to keep the damaged wing still, thank you very much

Police have come! Julie gonna get arrested, maybe? Unless girl escapes, although that’s evading police then, and now she threw a torch, that’s attempted assault. Idk what it’s like in the USA, but in my state (Queensland, AUS) that’s a $5,500 fine and 50 days in jail (evasion), and a $5,338 - $8,007 fine and 6 - 12 months in jail (police assault, depends on severity)

Have fun in prison, Julie! Oop, nevermind she’s home again

Anyway, I wonder what Daniel’s doing at this time. Wiki says Julie was born in 1977, which is a whole ten years after Daniel, and considering she’s in high school I’d say she’s about 16/17 in this movie, which brings us to like 1993/1994. Perhaps this was around the time he met Amanda, maybe even started dating her? They got married in 1998 (I believe), so it would make sense for that to happen

Bonding moment for Louisa and Julie? No, nevermind

Miyagi’s happy! Love that! He’s going to make special birthday dinner!

Straight of the bat though like the dynamics are so different. Like the moment Daniel ever so much as raises his voice at Miyagi, the dude’s a little disheartened whereas Julie talks shit here and Miyagi’s like “haha, you’re funny, anyway, let’s talk about Japanese cuisine, yes?”

Okay but I LOVE the fucking ‘sayonara’ and dissapointed headshake like, man, Miyagi, legend

This school’s nothing compared to West Valley imo

Alos that little gang? Those coordinated outfits? Do y’all not have a personality? Feel like the Cobras get a win on being comfortable with their own skin whilst also maintaining such a well-formed group

You can see I’m biased, and I’ll probably remain biased, because, two seconds into seeing this Boston group and I’m already dissappointed by the lack of personality. Again, two seconds of Cobras and y’all know you’re in for a ride, and a good one at that

I like the little garden corner that Julie’s at it’s very nice and peaceful

Back to the group, they look like real dickheads. Also, Ned? Shit name for a ‘bad boy’. Also, please stop trying to coerce Julie

I’ve seen this fucker for, what, a minute, if that? And I absolutely hate everything about him. I also don’t like how he sorta just, enters?? Like, at least with the Cobras we knew what their intentions were right off the bat. Here, well, what does Ned want Julie for? Why does he want her with him and his friends? Like, please establish that before anything else

Also why he standing like a Roblox character

The Alpha League? Really? Y’all really tryna be cool with that aren’t ya? Do I smell some toxic masculinity? I think I do?

WHY DOES THAT HIGH SCHOOL DUDE LOOK LIKE HE’S 30 DUDE

Ew I hate that school bell

Please get out of the girl’s bathroom sir

Not the fucking wing bandage again, jesus christ. And shot in the wing?? Y’all really gotta have that shit strapped then, STOP LETTING THE BIRD MOVE HER WING THAT IS GOING TO DAMAGE IT MORE

“I’ll call Dominos Pizza and have them deliver 48 pizzas to your house in the middle of the night” ma’am that is a dream come true, first of all, and second of all, please work on your threats, thank you

Okay but is this military training or phys ed??

Miyagi looks so nice in his checkered shirt! Anyway, I swear that’s like the only thing I love about this movie, Mr Miyagi that is

Teacher just slapped a kid and choked him, alrighty then

Oop and here comes Miyagi, defending kids since 1984!!

Love that. “Boy, you okay?” like just the delivery of this line it’s so neutral I love it

Ah yes, threatening a bastard with a story about a bull, the best

Honestly stan how passive-aggressive Miyagi is at any given time

Yeah okay but honestly it would be better for that bird to be taken away considering that god awful bandaging job

“It’s just a car” EXCUSE YOU JULIE, as a car person myself I take PERSONAL offence to that. That’s not just a car, that’s his child, his other half, his soulmate, his everything, thank you very much

That’s right tell her off for saying that, good lad

On a sidenote; my video quality is shit, like super shit, because I’m streaming on Netflix and there’s a few other people in the house using internet so like, :(

“For a while he was sending money and then one day he just stopped” ah yes, every child of divorced parents can relate to this statement very well

i’m sorry but the music is so cheesy

anyway, i was gonna say that this movie lacks something, and i remembered what it is, and that is love. Like with KK1, 2, and 3, you can tell a lot of love and heart and soul went into making those movies (maybe not as much with 2 and 3, but it was still there and in good amounts). Meanwhile, this just feels like a cashgrab (which it is, and a very failed one at that)

Like, when will people learn that well-crafted media will get you better reviews/more money/whatever? 

I hate this fucking background music so much jesus christ please kill it

Please tell someone about the hawk i am worried for its health

The fact that Miyagi has lived with Daniel so long to a point where he’s forgotten he has to actually knock on doors (because you bet your ass Daniel was and still is the type of person who really just doesn’t give a single fuck about who sees him doing what)

This poor man tbh. So ashamed of himself

FUCKING I WAS RIGHT I LITERALLY JUST SAID THAT WHOLE SHIT ABOUT MIYAGI AND DANIEL NOT GIVING TWO SHITS ABOUT SEEING EACH OTHER DO WHATEVER AND NOW MIYAGI’S JUST OUTRIGHT CONFIRMED THAT

“Boy is easier” 100% I will agree, hence the reason I’d like sons in the future. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d like at least 1 daughter as well but holy hell are females complicated (and I should know because I am one)

“Don’t order me around” sweetie, he isn’t ordering you, he’s making a helpful suggestion. Please stop the Miyagi slander, my man does NOT deserve this treatment

Miyagi, love you bb, but please don’t waste your advice on Julie at the moment

Speaking of, I greatly dislike Julie, but you know why that is? Because she’s really not been fleshed out as a charater, unlike the others we see in the KKU. Like her one redeeming quality is that she looks after a bird, but even that isn’t redeeming to me because she isn’t caring for it properly, like please take it to a fucking veterinarian

I feel like I’d enjoy Julie more if she was actually fleshed out but like, no, no, she’s just a whole “I’m an orphan so I’m always angsty grr” character and I just - I’m disappointed

Same goes for the other characters; again, the only thing/person I love about this movie so far is Miyagi, and with the way it’s been in these first 25 minutes, I doubt that’ll change

Yeah no I really fucking hate Julie. “You can’t even speak English” she says, even though she has understood every single word Miyagi has said thus far

Ah yes because people can definitely jump on cars and cars can definitely go unnoticed for such a long period of time in a quiet neighbourhood

I honestly feel like giving up on this movie like it’s so bad

But I want to see more Miyagi so 😬

No offence to Hilary Swank but her line delivery could do a bit more work during the ‘emotional scen’ with her and Miyagi

And again, music, hate it

I am literally willing to turn this movie off even if it means I don’t get to see more Miyagi content

Like I can not express my displeasure for this movie enough

Yes, Miyagi, same, I hate the 12am rock concert in Julie’s bedroom to. Like please, gurl, some of us have sleep schedules

Okay so now Julie’s worried about her appearance?? Y’all just made my hatred for her character rise again. When was she ever worried about that? imo this is just put in there to make people remember that she’s still “girl uwu 😙✌”

Haha, yes, pay Miyagi with the homework that’s right

Bet he did that with Daniel after the tournament like “you do homework, I teach karate”

“Boys easier” AGAIN I AGREE SO MUCH MIYAGI

Okay so I’ve sat through 33 minutes of this bullshit and I am going to quit for today. I’m sorry to anyone that does like this movie, but like I really don’t, it sucks in so many ways. Words cannot describe the sheer amount of dissapointment I have for this. Like, it could have been good! The idea is solid and the base of the characters is somewhat okay! And yet they made this shit instead of something actually worthwhile!

I will continue tomorrow, but for now I just need a break from this before I hit something.

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Daffodils.

Chapter 3: Trade.

Harry had thought that the jealousy he used to feel whenever he saw Ginny with Dean was bad enough. He was wrong.

Looking back to it, his ‘chest monster’ felt like this little angry kitten in comparison to what he felt when he would see Malfoy crying for Nott.

The pull in his stomach from when he was in denial? Oh, that was just the beginning of it all. Harry could swear that every time he felt jealous over Nott, a hole got deeper and deeper on his stomach, making him feel nausea. And since he couldn’t scream at the boy that he shouldn’t be in love with such a fucking prick... well, Harry would just walk around the house with his moody face on.

“You know we can all sense your magic being angry right now, right?” Sirius would say to him. It had become an habit at this point, a way to bring up the topic of conversation without specifically talking about it. Even though, the green eyed boy, knew that his Dad and Padfoot had the slightest idea about how he felt, the just didn’t talk about it.

Bill’s and Fleur’s wedding was approaching and Malfoy had been pretty much happily surprised when Ron told him that he was invited.

“I think I‘ve spoken ten sentences with your brother... I kinda talked to Fleur back in forth year... You shouldn’t force them to invite me Weasley.” Was the first thing that the boy had said.

“Ferret, I’m just giving you the invitation. Do what you want but know that I didn’t say a bloody thing to Bill.”

And it was kind of true..? Ron only mentioned to Molly that it would be really rude not to invite Malfoy if Dad, Padfoot and him were going... Not to mention that Draco was now one of his closest friends and he didn’t think that it was much to ask. Next thing he knew, his best friend had an invitation with the blond boy’s name on it.

One thing led to another and the three of them found themselves engaged in a conversation, with his father and Padfoot too, about if they planned to have a family when this was all over. And in case of the other two men, if they had wished to be parents back in the first war.

His dad answer that yes, he did want to have a kid back then... Maybe he would have like not to be running from Voldemort at the time, that Harry wasn’t planned but he was pretty much loved since they knew he existed.

Ron said that he would like a couple of kids running around his house one day. Not as much as them, since he suffered being outshined by having so many siblings, but maybe two or three would be nice. Harry just snorted as he responded.

“Are you kidding? Your family is awesome. I want to have like five, minimum.”

“I believe you should ask your future wife, Potter. Maybe she doesn’t want to be a brood mare.”

The comeback was burning his tongue: ‘Maybe I’ll marry a nice guy and adopt the kids, Malfoy’. He restricted himself from saying it in that moment... He still hadn’t talk to Padfoot and dad... He kind of wanted to come out to them first, since they were the first ones to comment on the possibility of Harry liking boys too. Well, about Harry liking Draco in particular.

Padfoot said that he always saw himself like the cool uncle, but that after Harry was born he kind of wished to have a kid of his own (before everything went to shit obviously). He didn’t like the sound of that... Now that Padfoot was free maybe he would get a family of his own, Harry was not alone anymore... He didn’t have an obligation to take care of him. And he was still young, thirty-eight years was a perfectly good age to meet someone and be a parent. It was kind of ridiculous to think that he wasn’t with his dad, though. He tried to change the subject.

“What about you, Draco?” The blond boy looked at him as if he were stupid. “Forget about you condition for a second! If everything were good and the sun would shine everyday: would you like to have kids?”

“No.”

Harry blinked. It sounded so final, like he had thought about it a lot and came to this major conclusion.

“Why not, kid?” His father asked in a kind voice, Harry could not articulate a single word. The blond boy rolled his eyes and began to explain, leaving everyone speechless too.

“Did you know that your son had to kill a teacher in his first year? Or that he voluntarily went inside of the Chamber of Secrets with the monster to save Ginevra when he was twelve? Not to mention that time when your lovely best friend went to see him to a quidditch match and the dementors started to suck his soul away and he fell off his broom.” Everyone was his staring at him, dumbfounded. “Oh! I forgot that these two fucker drove a flying car to Hogwarts instead of just waiting for the Weasleys to realize that they couldn’t go through the barrier by themselves (ALSO WITH TWELVE YEARS OLD). And that’s just the beginning of it; your son seems to attract danger and if his life is going too normal for his liking he just tries to kill himself. You know why?”

Harry was blushing so hard, he felt so embarrassed and stupid now that the blond boy was saying it like that. At least about the car... that was rather unnecessary.

“Because that’s how a gryffindor kid is. There is this tiny possibility that if I have a kid, he would be a bloody terror like the four of you. I can’t handle the stress. I can’t let my kid be in the hands of another person, of the professors, for an entire year, trusting that they are okay and then get a bloody letter asking for my presence at the school because my son or daughter has been petrified, like it happened to Granger’s parents. And that was worst because they are muggle and they had to be explained that there was a beast trying to kill students around the school. I didn’t even understand how they let her come back after that. I would bloody lock up that poor child and hugged them until they turn seventeen.”

Harry had thought that he was already as in love with the boy as he could be... All he could gather from what Malfoy said was that he would care so deeply about his kid that he could not bare to see them in any kind of danger. It just made him love him even more.

“Come on, Ferret! What if you have a little snake running around the castle? Wouldn’t you be proud?”

“I think that would actually be worst because maybe I wasn’t suicidal like your lot, but I managed to do my fair amount of dangerous things and my father doesn’t even have a clue. Hanahaki aside of course because, that night at the ministry, was pretty much the only suicidal thing I’ve ever did.”

Sirius and his father chuckled. The green-eyed boy was just listening, trying not to be so bloody obvious about how endearing he found Draco’s arguments. Ron couldn’t let it go, apparently.

“Oh, for Godric! Picture this: your one true love asks you to have children, because he thinks that is his purpose in life, to have a family. You would just say no?”

Draco seemed to be taken by surprise, like he didn’t expect the question. His grey’s eyes took a quick glance at Harry before stuttering an answer. Maybe he had been so obvious about his jealousy, that the blond boy was, now, doubting before talking about Nott.

“I- I think” He pushed his hair out of his face and blushed a little. “I don’t have it in me to say no to him. Not if it’s something that he wants so deeply. But they would definitely be terrors then, so I would probably die from a heart attack by the time they turn thirteen.”

Harry felt like he could cry right then and there. He tried to act aloof and to laugh when everyone did but soon enough he excused himself to go to his room, saying that he had a headache and that he needed to lay down for a bit.

He heard when Ron left, he heard someone starting to cook dinner... The dark-haired boy didn’t want to go downstairs and face him. He never had been good at lying and each time he talked to Malfoy he felt like he must just know.

Someone knocked softly on the door.

“Come in.”

He heard the door open and close before someone walked towards his bed and sat at the end of it. The smell of nicotine invaded his nostrils. Padfoot.

“Are you going to tell us, at some point, how you feel or we should just keep on guessing?” The man asked with a soft and playful voice. Harry was already pissed off so he kind of blurted out a comeback.

“Are you going to explain to me why you and dad aren’t together or am I supposed to keep collecting information from the fights I hear every now and then?”

Sirius was silent for a moment, then he sighed and said:

“Fair enough. How about a trade?”

Harry blinked and sat on the bed. He wasn’t expecting that, Sirius had been evasive since last year and now he was just going to tell him? It sounded like a trap. He fixed his glasses and arched an eyebrow.

“Fine, but you go first.”

“I am hurt that you would think that I would not keep my word, Prongslet.” He said in a very dramatic manner. Harry just raised his eyebrows and waited ‘Do I look stupid to you?’

“I kind of think that James would tell the story a little different, so-“

“I’m asking you, Sirius.”

“Just... try not to freak out? James said that you wouldn’t be mad or react badly but he is your father and I’m not, so..”

Harry frowned.

“Is that what you think? That I love dad more than you or something?” He tried to sound as calm as possible, trying to be understanding about the whole thing, but it sounded so fucking ridiculous that he just couldn’t. Sirius looked away, so he grabbed his hand and tried to make him understand. “Padfoot, you are my family. I think you are the closest thing I had to a father before dad came back... That feeling didn’t go away. I love you, okay?”

A tear escaped from his right eye and he quickly cleaned it away.

“I- I love you too. So so much. I know I don’t say it often, you can blame my awful family for how awkward I am at this things, but I do.”

Harry pulled him into a hug, and closed his arms around him tightly. After a while, Sirius pulled away.

“So...” he started, nervous as he looked away. “You know that James and me have been friends since first year. I pretty much saw him and decided that he was my favorite person in the world.” A soft smiled appeared in his face but was promptly replaced by a sour expression. “I didn’t think much of it. We soon became very close in our group and I just thought that it was because we were best friends... Something happened to me every time he talked about Lily, though.” He got jealous, obviously. Harry didn’t say anything because he was afraid that if he interrupted Padfoot, then he would regret telling him at all. He just nodded. “Well, as the years went by, your mother didn’t even look twice his way and your dad used to tell me how pretty she was or that the boys she liked were stupid... By the time we were in forth year, I knew that what I felt for him wasn’t just friendship. Before that, maybe I used to look at him and thought that his smile was really pretty and my brain just went full on internalized homophobia mode and buried that thought really deep.”

Harry couldn’t help but to laugh at that, and when Sirius turned to look at him, he just shook his head.

“Sorry,” he said between laughs.“I just get it.” His godfather smiled softly at him and continued the story.

“Yeah, that year I started to ask, to see if he liked boys too but he got really defensive and told me that ’No, of course not’”He sighed.” In our fifth year we were kind of drunk and James kissed me.” Of course his dad made the first move, he could barely avoid flirting with Padfoot even now. “And I thought that he finally had gotten over Lily, you know? I kissed him back and didn’t even ask a single thing... You can imagine my surprise when the next day he barely looked at me and the day after that, he asked you mum to Hogsmade again.”

Harry frowned then, utterly confused.

“What?” Sirius just nodded.

“It became this regular thing that we didn’t talk about. Whatever happened stayed between us, I suspect that Moony knew about it... The rat too, probably.” Sirius never spoke Pettigrew’s name. It was almost like Voldemort to him now, maybe even worst. “When I’ve moved here, it was different. Your grandparents never asked but James was hardly subtle.” ‘Yeah, no shit’. “I just had to asked him, you know? What were we doing, if it meant something to him... And when he couldn’t give me a straight answer I just lost it and went to my room. Pretty much acted like nothing ever happened after that. Your dad stopped asking Lily out, though... which in the end was for the best, because she finally gave in to his charms and you know the rest of the story.”

Harry was just trying to process the information, it didn’t make any sense but most of all, a single question kept appearing in his head. He had to ask it.

“He made you his best man and my godfather even though you used to be together?” Harry pulled a face, Sirius looked at him with sad eyes.

“I knew you weren’t going to like this. I know it must be so weird for you, I’m sorr-“

“No! I don’t care about that! But weren’t you hurt, Padfoot? It seems awfully cruel.” Sirius just blinked.

“Oh. No... not at all. I was just surprised that it lasted for that long. And we were still best friends, I couldn’t just not be his best man and I loved you since I’ve first saw you... my mini prongs. I was honored to be your godfather.” He said as he pinched his cheek. “But that brings us to the actual question: Why are we not together? Well, beside the fact that he looks gorgeous right now and I’m just this old-post-Azkaban-being... I don’t think that he really feels what he says. It wouldn’t be the first time that we’ve been down this road, and I’m way more old now, not as naive, and not with the same strength in my heart, Harry.”

And he totally got it. He understood what the man was saying, but he could not help but to think that the way that his dad looked at Sirius was not just temporary. His dad told him that, even then, he thought that Padfoot was the most perfect person in the world... How could someone think that and claim to be in love with someone else? And if they were like this now... How did they managed to hide it from everyone back then when they really were together? No, if his mother was as half as brilliant as his father claimed she was, she most definitely knew about them... Maybe she just didn’t care... Or maybe she finally made a move on James when she saw that Padfoot and him had already broken up...? Could it be called a break up if they didn’t even pronounced the words? If they stayed silent like Sirius had said.

“Padfoot, you were just kids. I see how he looks at you, okay? Forget about whatever he did. If you feel the same just go for it.”

Sirius just chuckled and shook his head.

“You sound just like him sometimes.”

Harry just smiled and shrugged.

“Malfoy always says that you and I talk the same. Maybe I’m this mixture of the two of you.” He saw Padfoot’s eyes shine with expectation at the mention of Draco. “Call dad for this part, I wanted to tell you both at the same time.”

Sirius went to get James almost skipping towards his room. Malfoy must had been the one cooking the delicious meal that Harry could smell in the air.

Soon enough, the two men were in his room, sitting on the bed, waiting. Harry rolled his eyes.

“I think that this is unnecessary. Clearly, you both already know.” Sirius was about to say something but his dad nudge him with his elbow. “But fine. I like him, alright? I mean, no, I liked Ginny, I love him. Now, I know the difference. So that makes me, clearly, not straight. I suppose that I’m bi... But I only kissed Ginny, couldn’t go further than that. Didn’t feel right.”

His dad and Padfoot just looked at him with kind eyes.

“Thank you for telling us, Harry.” His father said with a smile.

“Yeah, Prongslet... And I’ve been thinking since the battle that maybe this thing, the whole being Theodore thing it just-“ But Harry interrupted him.

“You see him cry for him don’t you?”

“Yes, but I see how he looks at you too.” His godfather said, so much like Harry had just said to him. Harry looked away.

“Please, don’t say things that you are not sure of. I’ve never felt like this and everything already is complicated enough.”

His father pulled him into a hug, so warm and protective. Harry just hugged him back. After a while, the man whispered into his ear.

“I know you don’t want to hear it but I agree with Padfoot.”

Harry started to get hope, something that he definitely did not need. He couldn’t be so stupid. He saw Malfoy with Nott. It just made sense.

But maybe, just maybe, there was this possibility of Draco, at least, liking him. Of him looking his way...

Fuck, now he had hope. This is why he hated to talk about his feelings. It always seemed to screw him over.

[petersasteria]

168 Hours - Haz Osterfield (4)

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Haz Osterfield Masterlist ||  Ultimate Masterlist || 168 Hours Masterlist

DISCLAIMER:  *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which your son’s wish comes true and it turns horrible. Now, he has to fix it in 168 hours.

𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬 and Harley are walking around town while eating their burgers. In truth, they didn't know where Harrison and Y/N are. Amadis was never alerted again on his 'Apple Watch' (as how Harley calls it). Both of them are now shamelessly eating burgers and walking around without a care in the world and hoping they'd bump into either Y/N or Harrison.

During this time, they decide that it'd be best to get to know each other. After all, they'll be together for a week, or in heaven's time, 168 hours. They should at least know each other. Now, they're in the middle of a conversation about Amadis' kind; angels.

"How are angels made? Like, where do they come from?" Harley asks, taking another big bite of his burger, ketchup getting on his face. Hey, he's only ten years old. He's allowed to be clumsy and messy.

"They're not made like human babies, that's for sure." Amadis chuckles at his own adult joke. Harley's face contorts in confusion, "How are babies made, then? Dad said I'll know when I'm older, but he said that last year. I'm older this year, aren't I?"

"Yes, but not old enough to know about how babies are made and where they come from." Amadis explains. "You have to be at least in secondary school or something."

"But that's too far away!" Harley whines.

"Patience is a virtue, my child. Patience is a virtue." Amadis laughs. "Anyway, angels are made whenever a baby sneezes."

"That's absurd!" Harley giggles. "There's no way angels are made when a baby sneezes. I call bullshit."

"Watch your mouth, young man." Amadis says sternly. Harley mumbles a little 'okay, sorry' before Amadis nods and continues, "When a baby sneezes, the air and mini droplets of saliva they release goes up to heaven. On the process of it going up there, clouds get attached to it."

"How do they get attached to it?" Harley, who is intrigued by the story, asks.

"The droplets of saliva." Amadis answers. "Then when it reaches heaven, God personally molds it on how He wants it to look like. Then, we become babies and we grow up normally. But we stop growing when we reach 25 years old."

"What?! Why?"

Amadis shrugs, "It's just how it is."

"How old are you?"

"I'm turning a hundred and five years old in two months." Amadis says as Harley's jaw drops in shock, "What?! You look really young!"

Amadis smirks, "I know right. It's such a blessing."

They walk in silence after that, but Amadis breaks it, "There's...also another way for an angel to be made."

"How?"

Amadis bites his lip, not sure if he wants to tell this information to a child. But since he started it, he sighs because there's absolutely no going back, "Another way an angel is made is whenever a baby dies. You know, a stillborn. Their souls go up to heaven and God does the rest. We're not quite sure what He does, because He leaves those matters with Him privately...in His own chambers."

"Oh." Harley says. "I wish my brother and sister were angels."

"That's not nice, Harley."

"Yeah, but they're not nice either. They took mum and dad away from me. They came along and suddenly mum and dad don't even spare me at least a glance for one second. It's like their whole world started revolving on them and I'm not part of it." Harley says sadly. Amadis frowns; he didn't know it was THAT bad.

"I understand, but-"

"Do you think they're treating me like this, because I was a mistake?" Harley asks in a small voice.

"Mistake? Where did that come from?" Amadis asks in concern. He didn't know such thoughts existed in a young child before. No child angel was like that in heaven.

"When Harvey was born, I heard grandma telling mum and dad that she's glad that Harper and Harvey were born after getting married and that they weren't a mistake like me." Harley explains. "Then I thought about it and it all made sense. The reason why they don't come to my school plays, why they treat me differently, and why they don't love me."

"That's not true. They love you so much." Amadis says with sympathy. "Parents could never not love their children."

"You haven't been in my shoes, then." Harley chuckles bitterly. "This is why I hang out with my uncle Tom a lot, because he's the only one there for me. Uncle Tom is always there for me whenever I need someone, he picks me up from school, he brings me to school, sometimes he'd take me out to play golf with him and uncle Bradley on Saturdays. Uncle Tom doesn't forget my birthday either. He's my hero. I want to be just like him."

Amadis is speechless. After all, how do you respond to that? The kid clearly knows what's talking about and to be honest, that's pretty smart of him. Majority of ten year olds don't even think like him. Amadis now wonders what kind of concoction God mixed that made Harley so bright. He'll ask God when he gets back in heaven. For now, it's time to accomplish his mission.

-

"I still can't believe that our professor had the AUDACITY to give us difficult homework all for ten fucking points. It's not fucking fair!" Timothée sighs in frustration, reminiscing about the professor everyone dislikes.

"I would tell you to move on, but I'm still so pissed about that." Harrison rolls his eyes as he and his best mate exit the cafe with their drinks in hand. "It's not even a major subject."

"Exactly! Why do minor subjects feel the need to act like majors?! It's fucking mental." Timothée sighs in frustration before stopping and taking a sip of his drink. Harrison shrugs and does the same. They both scrunch their face in disgust after taking a sip.

"I believe this is yours." Harrison says, giving the drink to Timothée. Timothée nods and exchanges the drink, "I believe so and this is yours."

They take a sip of their drinks and sigh happily. They continue their walk and they pass by a book shop.

"T, hold on. I'll check something out in there." Harrison says, stopping in front of the book shop. Timothée shrugs, "Sure. I'll wait out here and give me your drink, because it isn't allowed in there."

Harrison hands him his drink and chuckles, "I know. I won't be long."

"That's what you said last time. I thought you fell and died somewhere in one of the aisles." Timothée says, clearly not amused by the experience. Harrison just chuckles and walks in the old book shop. He takes in the scent and immediately walks to the shelf where the book he likes is located. His favorite author just released the physical copies of their book and Harrison has been saving up for it even before it was released.

He walks to the shelf and it was there. He smiles brightly and grabs it. He skims through it and he finds himself sitting down on the floor and gently leaning on the shelf as he begins to read through it.

-

Throwing the wrappers of where their burgers once were, Amadis receives a new alert from his wristwatch. Harley looks at it and giggles, "Your Apple Watch is lighting up again!"

Amadis glances down and chuckles, "It is and it's telling me that your dad is in a book shop just around here. Let's go!"

Amadis and Harley immediately rush to the book shop, not sparing Timothée a glance. They walk in and they immediately see Harrison. They stop walking and they just stare at him.

Amadis gives Harley a light push, "Go on." Harley glares at him before walking closer to his dad. He looked younger.

'I mean, it is 2017 after all.' Harley thinks. He's now standing in front of him and he notices that his dad is reading a book. He smiles softly as he distinctly remembers his father reading a book every Sunday morning whilst drinking tea.

"Dad?" Harley says quietly. Harrison looks up from his book and looks at Harley in confusion, "What?"

"You're my dad." Harley says.

"I'm sorry is this some kind of sick joke?" Harrison chuckles. "Did Timothée send you in to get me out of here? Or are you lost?"

"Timothée? Like, uncle Timothée?" Harley hides a grin forming on his face. He hasn't seen his uncle Timothée since his 8th birthday.

"Uncle T- what are you talking about?" Harrison laughs, standing up. "Enough with the joke, okay? I'm getting up and leaving. Where are the cameras? I'm sure Timothée's filming in here somewhere."

"Excuse me, you're kind of in my way." a voice of a female abruptly ends their conversation. They look at her and Harley smiles widely, "Mum!"

Harrison's eyes widen and pulls back Harley by his shoulders as he gives the lady a polite smile, "I'm so sorry about him."

"It's no problem." she giggles. They move out of the way and let her check out the books on the shelf Harrison was leaning on previously. They walk away and Harrison drops his hands from Harley's shoulder, "Okay kid, what's your name?"

"Harley James Osterfield."

"Haha, very funny." Harrison says sarcastically and rolls his eyes. "How did you know my last name? And I think it's a coincidence that your name is Harley, because that's what I want to name my son someday."

"Yes and that son is me!" Harley grins. Harrison stares at him and squints, "We have the same hair color and maybe the eyes as well, but you're not my son. I don't recall getting anyone pregnant."

Harrison walks to the counter and pays for the book. Harley sighs, "You have three kids with that lady over there!" He points to where the girl is standing and Harrison looks, "Nah, I don't believe you. That's Tom Holland's fiancé."

"Whose fiance?" Harleys asks, not sure if he heard the name right.

"Tom Holland." Harrison answers as he grabs the book and stuffs it in his backpack. "Tom Holland, the soon to be CEO of Holland Incorporation."

Harley's jaw drops, "What?!"

Harrison nods and chuckles, "Don't you watch the news? Anyway, who's with you? I'll take you to them."

Harley sighs, "Sure. I'm with-" He turns around, but Amadis isn't where he's supposed to be. Harley frantically looks in different directions. Harrison takes notice of this, "Okay, you can stay with me and Timothée for a while. We'll find the person you're with together."

Harley nods and they go out of the book shop.

"Hey T!"

"Uncle Timmy!"

Timothée looks at Harley weirdly and Harley walks up to give him a big hug. "I haven't seen you in so long! I missed you so much!"

Timothée looks at Harrison for help and he just shrugs. He takes his drink from Timothée and watches the whole interaction. Harley pulls away after a while and smiles, "You look really handsome."

Timothée smirks, "Thank you. A lot of girls would agree."

Harrison rolls his eyes and the three of them begin to walk. Timothée starts up a new conversation, "Haz, you never told me your new friend's name and why he's here with us right now."

"His name is Harley and he said his last name is also Osterfield which is very unlikely because that's such a rare last name and I don't know anyone else aside from my family with that last name." Harrison says, as he gives Harley the side eye.

"That makes sense." Timothée nods. "If you're a part of his family then that's fine. But if you're not and you have the same last name, that's weird. Only a few people have that. If not, no one else." Timothée adds.

We must remember and keep in mind that Harley is a bright child. So he says, "You said so yourself; only a few have that last name. Didn't it ever cross your mind that I'm part of the few people?"

He hopes and prays to God that acting cool about it would help him. And it did. "Well, I never thought of that." Timothée says.

"Same." Harrison sighs. "Our deepest apologies."

"It's alright." Harley says nonchalantly. He looks straight ahead and grins when he sees a woman with a guitar, busking on the sidewalk. He runs to the woman and stops in front of her; the guitar case in between them.

"Is it okay if I try?" Harley asks shyly. The woman smiles and nods at him and hands him the guitar.

Timothée and Harrison immediately runs up to the woman and apologize on behalf of Harley for ruining her set. The woman chuckles, "It's no problem. I wanted a break anyway."

Harley puts the strap around him and on his shoulder as he begins to strum and tune the guitar. Timothée and Harrison stand by on the side and watch him.

"Do you think he knows how to play? Or do you think he's just trying to figure it out?" Timothée whispers in Harrison's ear, his eyes not leaving Harley.

Harrison just shrugs.

Harley locks eyes with Harrison and smiles. Harley begins to strum the intro of "Don't Stop Believin'".

'If dad couldn't come to my talent show, I'll bring the talent show to him...minus Jack.' Harley thinks to himself as he strums.

"Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere..." Harley sings beautifully which is surprising for a ten year old. Harrison looks at him in awe. He didn't know he could sing that well. Timothée was also in awe.

Harley sings his heart out not knowing that there's already a small crowd forming.

"Don't stop believin', hold on to the feeling. Street lights, people!" Harley sings the high note with so much passion. "Don't stop." he ends the song and searches the small crowd for Harrison.

His eyes instantly found his dad's eyes.

All of them were giving Harley a round of applause, but all that matters to him is his dad locking eyes with him and giving him a proud smile and the loudest clap he's ever heard. Not even his uncle Tom could do that. Only his dad.

Amongst everyone that's cheering him on, Harley only paid attention to his dad. At that moment, all Harley cared about was finally having to spend some time with his dad without sharing him with any of his siblings.

And somehow, that moment was enough for Harley.

* * * *

I love this chapter x

[likemymask]

One Piece Daemon AU

Presented with only slight spelling corrections and some elaborations, the mess of a One Piece Daemon/His Dark Materials AU that would not leave me alone and would only let me work on it at 1-3AM.

Also now I’m writing snippets for it just like my Gundam Wing and Star Trek daemon AU. Because.

Luffy: sea king with Conqueror Haki so they can’t be controlled. Separated but not because that’s as free as you can get. Fuck yea, she’s in north blue chilling the fuck out (heh) half the time and being absolutely chaotic as shit the other half. Her attitude is diametrically opposed to what Luffy is doing at the time. LOL she runs/swims into Shanks when Luffy’s still barely a pirate so he has no idea (not that the marines do either) one time. This 2000ft tall monster is squinting at him, and he thinks he’s about to get ate and then she goes “oh you’re so much smaller now!” Cause of course she spent her formative years as a baby version of his daemon. The entire crew is goddamn losing it, cause what kind of monster is this that even Red Hair’s Haki can’t control it, until Shanks yells out her name and then everyone loses it further still. I have decided Eastern dragon aesthetic but water/earth theme as opposed to Kaido’s air/fire theme. Still blue, but blue-green, tiger stripes cause camoflage and also badass and maybe she settles after Luffy meets Zoro’s daemon *whistles*

Zoro: tiger obviously normal colors or green and black cause why the fuck not, Zoro is not into stealth really. ”The only one who can call me stupid is me. “ “.....stupid” Cat vs sword fight ensues. Can be found cuddling Chopper when Zoro’s tired, super sloshed, both.

Nami: monkey? Lemur: small, fast, quick hands, caring but only when you prove you deserve it. Absolutely torments Zoro’s when she’s pissed because tigers can’t normally climb fucking main masts but a) she parkours and b) when has that ever stopped Zoro/her? Likes to hang out in the tree grove, absolutely pick pockets people while Nami plays distraction.

Robin: cat some kind of cat not big CARACAL. Looks aloof but absolutely ready to be ridiculous at any opportunity.

Franky: dog or dolphin. Something excitable loyal ready to throw down Newfoundland? Big, friendly, over-excitable, likes water and sailing...yes.

Usopp: Corvid or monkey; curious, intelligent, stubborn, inventive, tool solving/using. Lives in groups/troops and cares for others. Probably corvid, too similar to Nami otherwise. Crow most likely.

Sanji: swan. Black, and absolutely a viper and very sorry about Sanji’s attitude towards woman cause she’s more refined about it. Same intensity though. Will bite the shit out of you. Tiger vs swan fight, GO. Do also groom each other though cause human affectionate displays are stupid sometimes.

Fishmen don’t have daemons its another conflict and excuse for racism.

Law: wolf but like starved and Eurasian crazy with it. LONG leggos. Spiky black fur around the head, grey black white speckled cause T R A U M A

Ace: was a fire hawk, no actual fire but red as hell and BIG tail and wings. Her species not liked on most islands cause they don’t leave once they’re settled. They stand their ground. More angst ha ha. Never met settled Luffys daemon because I’M A MONSTER.

Sabo: never settled until he learned Ace was dead and then she settled as fire hawk because trauma and angst and also he knows who he is now. Not being settled was useful for a while when he did infiltration etc but now they’re both happy/sad about it.

Garp. Big dog. Bull mastiff dog. Not good with kids only with attacking things and defending but very loyal. Also big. “ Bullmastiffs are also difficult even for adults to control, so they aren’t a good choice if your child wants to help walk the dog. They like to please and crave attention, but they’re so big that even a well-intentioned nudge can end up hurting small children. ” HMMMMM RINGS A BELL, THIS DOES

Chopper: also no daemon or if so then monkey because HANDS. OH BOI THAT MUST HAVE BEEN A FUN THING. EAT SOME FRUIT, WAKE UP WITH A SOUL. Wait no people think he’s a pet. No daemon then.

Mihawk: literally whatever Shank’s daemon is he insists this is why they’re friends while Mihawk wine aunts in the background. He’s more refined though than Shanks and his soul (this is not a challenge). Like absolutely cold as ice until he cracks a pun, but no one believes the victim cause no way Mihawk would do that. Soooo proud, regal, loyal but willing to have a good time. Some kind of dog or cat. Big and fast and POWER. Could do big cat to be more like Zoro or a dog/canid to foil it. Maned wolf?

Vivi: it’s lazy to say her bird Caracue I can’t spell it’s one am but imma do it. KAROO HOW THE FUCK DID I MISSPELL THAT.

Crocodile: big fuck off alligator cause fuck you that’s why. HOLY FUCK I FORGOT HE HAD THE BANANA ONES IN HIS CASINO THAT’S GREAT

Logias turn to same element so Ace’s daemon is now a literal actual fire hawk, fuck the history books I’m writing this shit.

Don fuck face Flamingo: is what it is but like Kipo And the Age of Wonderbeasts it got TEETH, cause anything that survived acid water and shit is not cool. In fact, you know what, she’s albino and thinks that makes her special, honey you just don’t got shrimp vitamins, you buffoon of a bird.

All the dino Zoans are modern descendant of those animals so chickens. Or birds. Chickens would be so goddamn funny especially the 3 foot tall fluffy ones...fuck what’re they called(Brahmas). Oh wait. Emus. Ohhhhhhh fuck emus as an option.

Mammoth Zoan can have a Mammoth daemon because I want to see that on a ship.

(Makino) Bartender lady I can’t remember her name starts with m capybara cause she’s chill as shit and friend shaped. 

Dadan: is not friend shaped but is friend. Big fuck off bear or buffalo or wildebeest

Brooke: Laboon, Lampoon whatever Moby Dick. There’s some trauma, they had to leave him, but they didn’t want to and Brooke offered to stay but Laboon thought he’d be fine. Spoiler alert He Is Not. No one is fine.

Ohhhhhhh fuck bad good idea: Rogers daemon also a Sea King but the marines never goddamn figured it out, hoooooo my gods Shanks is having goddamn flashbacks. 

Momo and Kaido both have Eastern dragon daemons cause fake fruit.mythical zoan fruit but Momos is the size of a gecko and black so she’s hide-able. Kaido’s isn’t as big but is still Fuck Off huge. Red because I said so. 

Beastmen also do not have daemons because fuck the amount of significant characters in One Piece

Cora(zon): also had a wolf, because yay trauma and repeats and trauma bonding!But she was like, pretty yellow white and dog-ish up until the moment she ripped your throat out for offending her/harming her pack. Law learned much from her about appearances, being underestimated, and then for the most part did the exact opposite.

Slime man: *Aka Trebol* has a hagfish cause fuck him and Doflamingo

Boa: her snake weapon thing. Big noodley boy. The skull is for A E S T H E T I C

   Ace's daemon named Picaro: Spanish for naughty/badly behaved and that is a synonym for rogue cause MOMMA'S BOI and I keep misreading Rouge as rogue cause PIRATES, and this way it's a little better than naming the fire hawk Red though Ace does call her that sometimes .          You know what, he has the same daemon as Rouge/mom actually cause stubborn enough to not go into labor for 20 months is bonkers and that shit deserves recognition. Also because FUCK the number of characters in One Piece.              Celestial Dragons don't have special daemons but they do splice/separate cause they're fuckers that's why              AU of AU        Luffy's daemon close enough to WRECK MARINEFORD'S SHIT THAT'S RIGHT BABEY ACE LIVES, ASL REUNION AND SUCH          Sabo's daemon settles as a dog but one of the CRAZY breeds, like poodle or husky.

AU OF AU PART TWO: originally when thinking about a One Piece daemon AU Luffy was gonna have a cheetah; long, fast, use recoil to increase speed and change directions, males live in groups with their brothers and are highly affectionate. Tendency to run into walls. Has a fur pattern presentation named King Cheetah, looks like a more Armament Haki version.

[msjr0119]

We Belong

Part 7

Evangeline Bruley returns to Cordonia to take over her families Duchy. She was betrothed to the now King, however he is engaged to Duchess Riley but still has lingering feelings towards his first love. What will happen during her time back in Cordonia?

Just using combined tag list if you want to be removed let me know 😊

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desiree-0816 @gardeningourmet @twinkle-320 @queenjilian @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @princessleac1 @scarletreesex

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, Swearing, smut, long ass chapter sorry!

A/N : In this series Jackson Walker died when Drake was 14 and Savannah was 11.

*****

“So you managed to fight four men off, one of those men was me. Shame you didn’t recognise me. It would have given you less of a fright today. I assume you received my text?” Evie turned around to face him, studying his expressions - attempting to read him.

“Yes. But my lover, and the King didn’t do anything wrong apart from defend the people they love.” Emphasising the words lover and King- she then scowled at her ex. “But then again you have never understood the meaning of love. Would you have ever told me that you was a Duke?”

“I could say the same Duchess Evie. I loved you then, and I still love you. I fucked up Evie. But I also defended you. I finished yours and Liams hard work off, along with my friend Anton. Liam insisted that I am not welcome to the wedding, he chose you. What’s the story there?”

“Myself and Liam were betrothed to be married since we were children. That’s all you need to know. So I believe that you should toodle pip back to jolly old London town.”

“It’s fate that I am here, fuck the commoner off- and we can start again. Elise left me. I’ve got something for you.” Evie felt smug that the slut had left him before she grimaced at him, her heart sunk as he retrieved the box out of his pocket. “I’ve kept it on me every since you threw it back at me.”

“I’m glad you fucked my so called friend behind my back, I’m glad I found her bra under our bed. I’m glad I threw my engagement ring back at you. So thank you Toby. You have made me realise that quite possibly my soul mate has a been part of my life this whole time. If I was you and this Anton person, I’d escape Cordonia - before your actions catch up to you. I mean, you are bragging that you killed the lords. I hear the palace dungeons can be awfully lonely and eerie.” Baby, you don’t know what else Anton is capable of.

“I’ll take your advise Evie.” Lying, he knew he had to play the game well- keep everyone on his side, Anton knew exactly when he was going to strike again thanks to Toby’s inside knowledge. “If you ever want to rekindle our friendship or relationship, you now have my number. Have a good day, Evie.” This isn’t the end Evie. Kissing her hand, she felt physically sick- watching him walk away, she felt as if she couldn’t breathe, slowly exhaling the breath that she had held in- she was relieved that he didn’t do anything but talk. Unknowingly to him, she was aware that he was following her around the maze. Bingo, no one messes with my lover or my king. Feeling smug with herself for her quick thinking, she backed up the voice recording in every way possible.

*****

“Evie! Are you okay?” Olivia was the first to notice her return, she seemed more calm than when she was when Toby arrived unexpectedly to them.

“I’m great... Everyone there’s something I need to tell you all, or rather show you.” Passing her phone to Liam, she pressed play- they all listened to her conversation with Toby. The main thing they all picked up was about the confession and about a man called Anton. Drake on the other hand, felt as if his world had come crashing down- knowing that she was engaged once up on a time, knowing that she had actually made a decision to marry a man. Even though he knew that that man treat her like muck, he now wondered what it meant for the two of them even if she did suggest that he was her soul mate.

“Evie, can I keep your phone? Well give it to Bastien? For evidence?”

“Of course Liam. Who’s Anton?”

“I- I don’t know any one called Anton. But I guess we will soon find out.” Liam hugged Evie, feeling relieved that he and Drake were off the hook due to her quick thinking.

“Drake?”

“Did he hurt you when you spoke to him?”

“No. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, your ex fiancé turns up-none of us knew that you was in a relationship in London, never mind being engaged. I just wanted to make sure that you was okay.”

“The engagement didn’t last long, it was that short that by the time I told you all it would have been over. Marriage isn’t everything, it’s about being there for the one you love, devoting yourself to them- it’s just a piece of paper. Unless you are those two over there.” Referring to Liam and Riley, she was grateful that he had found someone to become his Queen- even if he still had feelings towards her.

“I suppose. So, I was thinking before- how do you feel about going away for a few days? Change of scenery?” Sitting on his lap, he held her protectively.

“Oh yeah? Like where?” Running her fingers through his hair, she was intrigued as to where he would take her.

“Anywhere you’d like. Your choice. Greece if you want a short travel time? The states- although we’ve already been to Vegas. A tropical island somewhere?”

“I’ve got the perfect place.” A huge grin appeared on her face, knowing that he wouldn’t understand her reasoning for wanting to go here.

“Where’s that?”

“It’s beautiful, it can be romantic. The scenery surrounding it is breathtaking.”

“Paris?” The city of love, she mentioned about us all going. She’s got to be referring to that.

“No much closer to home. Your cabin. The place where you first hugged me.” My fucking cabin? I’ve given you the choice to go anywhere in the world and you choose to stay in Cordonia. Seriously Evie?

Drake wasn’t pleased that his mom had returned to Cordonia for his eighteenth birthday- she had been planning with Constantine a surprise birthday get together, inviting all his close friends and their parents. He still had anger built up inside for her abandoning him and Savannah after their father’s tragic death.

“Drake, your father would be so proud of the man you have become, as am I. You are a fantastic role model to your sister, you are fiercely protective over the ones you love. I propose a toast to my son, to Drake.” Evie noticed that Drake wasn’t his usual self. Excusing herself from Olivia and Liam- she decided to speak to him.

“Hey.”

“Hey Bruley. Enjoying the party? You’re looking well.” Gulping he regretted saying that instantly, hoping she wouldn’t read too much into it.

“Yeah, it’s good to see everyone again. Thank you, I’d say so are you but your personality is lacking the usual sarcasm and that infamous smirk....” Drake forced a smirk on his face, that’s better she whispered to him. “Finally an adult. The first one to turn eighteen- apart from Leo of course, how do you feel? Old?”

“I felt old, the minute I had to care for my baby sister. The minute she left me, left us.” Evie felt a sudden urge to suture her lips in future, guilt raced through her body- she had witnessed on many occasions when she was home how protective Drake was over Savannah and refused help from other people.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to....”

“Don’t apologise, I didn’t mean to snap. I’m sorry Lina.” Pulling her into his embrace he was grateful for her talking to him, resting her head on his shoulder she wrapped her arms around his broad body. They were close, they always had been as they all were. But the fact that she made the effort to see how he was doing- made his birthday. Lifting her chin up, she cupped his cheeks providing him with a soft smile.

“Drake, I’m sure your mom had her reasons, you and I both know what I mean- and I know it’s been hard on you and Sav. But deep down I know she loves you both. If you ever get bored of the palace, my rooms free most of the year. You could help out with the stables at our Duchy - look after Starlight for me. I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind.”

“I might just take you up on that offer.” Knowing for a fact he wouldn’t, but he was just being polite due to her kindness. There was an awkward silence, Evie removed herself from his embrace- deciding to start a new conversation up, hoping she wouldn’t offend him.

“So what are you going to do for the remainder of your eighteenth? I’m surprised Leo hasn’t ordered you a stripper or demanded that you go out with him to a club- not to celebrate your birthday but from a more selfish perspective.”

“I’d rather stay here, drink myself into oblivion and watch porn than be his wingman.”

“Well myself, Olivia, Kiara and Penny could all be your strippers- whilst you drink.” Drakes eyes widened, horror painted all across his face. Olivia despised him, Kiara was his ex, Penny would involve her poodles in the strip tease. Then his thoughts lingered on Evie- one of his closest friends, one who supported him and Savannah when Jackson passed, the girl who always checked in on him, the girl who was always on his mind. Needing to think of something other than Evie and her crazy suggestion- he needed to prevent his cock from becoming hard. “I think I’ll pass. I’m just going to see to my mom- save her embarrassing herself again.” Evie looked over towards Bianca cursing the woman’s actions in her mind- her heart sunk for Drake and Savannah.

“Happy birthday Drakey.” Kissing him on the cheek, she left him alone with his thoughts before joining their friends in conversation. Every so often, she scrutinised the crowd for Drake, making sure he was okay.

“You know that day, I wanted to kiss you so badly after you kissed me on the cheek.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Well I suppose we better go and recreate that scene, imagine that it was all those years ago.”

*****

Drake and Evie left their friends at the palace- he wasn’t sure what they would do at the cabin for a few days without getting bored easily. As Evie described the surrounding was breathtaking- but they were totally different people. Drake could entertain himself as he was an outdoor type of person, but Evie was brought up being a noble- having everything given to her, most people would describe her a ‘spoilt brat’ with her being an only child. However she didn’t brag about it, she just embraced her luxury lifestyle.

“It’s not much, but it’s always been my safe house.” Turning the engine off, they stayed in his truck for a while taking in the scenery.

“Drake, I’ve always admired it- as we all have. It brings back so many memories, I wish we could rewind time back to when we were all younger. So I’ll expect you to set a fire up and make us s’mores as you did in the past. You always did like to be in control with things like this.”

“Just because you nobles had no clue on how to do anything because you all had it handed to you.” He winked at her, hoping she understood his sarcasm and wasn’t offended. He was correct though, he did teach his friends how to do simple every day life things.

“I’d have traded my childhood with you any time.”

“Why?” Is she crazy?

“All I wanted to do was live a normal life, not to be trained up to be responsible for a Duchy- not be a Duchess. Just be Evie. A normal person.”

“You are going to be an amazing Duchess, would you have given it up to live a normal life?”

“I considered it. When my parents called off the betrothal to Liam- Constantine said all I’d be is a disappointment. That’s why I avoided coming back when I could. Now I’m just going to have to deal with it. I’m not even sure if I want to have children to be brought up in this life either. That’s why I’d have preferred to have your childhood.”

“You’d never be a disappointment, not to me anyway. Your mom and dad would be proud of you coming back.”

“I hope so. So what are we going to do?”

“Firstly, I’m going to let you settle in. Then I’ll go to the shop and get us some food- I’ll whip up a nice meal. Then for afters...”

“S’mores.” They both said in unison- laughing.

****

Whilst Drake went to the shop, Evie got in the shower- once she was out, she sat on the couch. Her mind flashing memories of their parents, herself, Drake and Savannah when they were younger.

“Welcome to our humble home your graces and Evie.” Bianca said enthusiastically, attempting to curtsy to be polite but instead nearly stumbling over. Jackson shaking his head as he slowly drank whiskey in the corner of the room - hoping that his wife wouldn’t embarrass them as she always did once the bottle of wine had been opened.

“Thank you Bianca.” Michaela said softly, as Alexander walked over to Jackson. The adults spoke together socialising, Alexander was always intrigued to gain some inside scoop on the King and Queen but Jackson being the professional kept the information confidential.

“Hey Drake, Savannah.”

“Hi Evie. I love your dress.”

“This old thing? You can have it if you want. I’ve got loads of them that are similar. Why don’t we swap now? I can plait your hair too?” Savannah’s eyes lit up, grateful that Evie always gave her her clothes that she didn’t want anymore. Savannah always enjoyed spending time with Evie, as she was an only child she mothered the youngest Walker- giving her attention wishing that she had a younger sister. “Aw Evie. Thank you.” Shortly returning later, Evie raced over towards Drake whilst savannah went to the adults to show her new ‘make over’.

“You are gradually turning my sister into a noble...”

“Hi to you too Drake. Still grumpy I see.”

“Well you are, I’m not lying. Once a grump, always a grump. How’s school?”

“Great.” She responded with a lack of enthusiasm, she loved boarding school- she had that slight bit of freedom. But she knew once she was back at home, that the talks regarding her future would instantly begin.

“Great?”

“Liam texts me all the time. I haven’t seen him since I’ve been back.”

“You’re 13, of course you’re going to have people text you. We all miss you.”

“My phone is for emergencies, my mother said. Not for Liam to harass me.”

“Liam and Evie kissing in a tree...”

“Shut up Drake! I will never kiss a boy, not until I’m married anyway.” Adjusting her posture, she said this confidently- they wasn’t religious but she wanted to remain celibate whilst she was stuck in this arrangement- to avoid any scandals that could ruin her parents reputation.

“Well you’re going to be married to Liam in a few years, so you won’t have long to wait.”

“Don’t remind me.” Rolling her eyes back, Drake sat back on the sofa- quietly laughing to himself. Wondering what the future held for royal family if she didn’t go through with it- believing that Evie wasn’t a true noble, any girl would act as if they had died and gone straight to heaven having to marry a prince. The two of them spoke, feeling comfortable in each other’s company- Drake updating her on their mutual friends life’s. Penelope losing her pup believing that the world had ended. Kiara now speaking fluently in yet another language. Leo running Bastien ragged as always. Olivia not leaving Liam’s side as if she was stuck to his hip. Evie threw her head backwards laughing, knowing that nothing changes every time she returns- Drake stared at her, not in a weird way- he loved her smile and her laugh- and he was hypnotised everytime.

“Son? May I have a word with Evie please?”

“Sure dad. See ya in a bit princess.” Walking away smirking, he knew it irritated her. Deep down he was jealous of Liam and Leo being guided towards all the beautiful girls. She’s just my friend. I’m fourteen- I shouldn’t be getting jealous. I shouldn’t be thinking of her as more than a friend.

“Evangeline, it’s good to have you back home. Have you settled back in?”

“Yes Sir. Thank you.” Sitting down next to her, he shook his head.

“Just call me Jackson. We aren’t nobles so you don’t have to act polite with us.”

“Okay Sir, I mean Mr Walker... Jackson.”

“I just wanted to thank you for making my daughter smile. You are one of the kindest and most incredible young ladies I know. And it’s an honour to know you. You have a bright future ahead of you, you just need to follow your heart wherever that may be.” Assuming he was talking about her marriage arrangement with the Prince, she just smiled at him- wondering if her parents had informed the Walkers about her true feelings. A thirteen year old shouldn’t be making these hard decisions at such a young age- and it was constantly eating at her.

“You know that I don’t want to marry Liam?”

“I think everyone does, but the royal family - including Liam, are just in denial. We know that you are close with him, but don’t make yourself miserable. As I said, you put a smile on my daughters face and I am grateful for that. I just wanted you to know. Maybe you could try and do it to my grumpy pants of a son too.” Both of them turned their attention towards Drake, who was stood with his hands in his pockets- scowling.

“Drakes just Drake, that’s why we all love him.”

“He may not be noble, he’s grumpy, but he has a heart of gold. Have you been to the palace yet?” Evie’s gaze concentrated on the floor, wondering why she was confiding in her friends father- the head of the royal guards.

“No. I’ve been avoiding seeing Liam. He loves me, but I don’t love him back in that way. I’m thirteen. He is more like my brother. I don’t want an arranged marriage, I want to fall in love naturally with someone who loves me for being just me- not the heir to our Duchy.”

“Liam isn’t the crown prince, it’s not too late for us to stop this betrothal. It’s not as important for him to marry urgently once he reaches adulthood.”

“Why are you trying to help me? I don’t mean to sound disrespectful. I just don’t understand.”

“I know what goes on in the palace, I wouldn’t like Savannah to be in your position. Your parents don’t want to be in this position either. I will do everything in my power to help you all. You are still young, so don’t worry about it for now. Enjoy being home, spending time with your family and friends.”

“Thank you Sir...” Raising his eyebrow whilst smirking she laughed knowing he was going to berate her. The similarity between him and Drake was uncanny. “Jackson.” Patting her on the shoulder, he saw his son running over to them.

“Dad, moms fallen over again. She’s just nearly been sick over the Duke and Duchess too. You should take her to bed.” Jackson excused himself from Evie and Drake smiling at the two of them.

“Jackson, she’s getting worse. Do you want us to take Drake and Savannah back with us? They can have a sleepover. We will bring them back once she’s slept it off. I’m concerned about her.” Jackson looked at his children, feeling guilty yet realising that Michaela was talking some sense- feeling like a burden he was undecided on what to do for his children’s welfare.

“I don’t want you to feel put out...”

“Don’t worry. We have plenty of room. The children all get along. Just keep in touch with us.”

Drake opened the doors once he had returned, assuming the noise would startle Evie- he was concerned as he walked over to her quietly, noticing that she was in a trance.

“Hey...”

“Sorry.”

“What’s up?”

“I was just thinking about your dad....not in that type of way, the last conversation I had with him was on this very sofa.” Drake rolled his eyes back knowing that specific day. Two days prior to his father’s tragic death.

“He knew that I didn’t want to marry Liam even offered to help me get out of the arrangement and told me to follow my heart. He was looking weird at us both too.”

“Son, I’m sorry about your mom- you and your sister are going to their Duchy so be nice to the Duke and Duchess. Is that okay?” He asked as he knelt down, placing a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder.

“I’m worried about you. I’ll stay with you. Sav can go with Evie, she will probably enjoy raiding through her wardrobe anyway.”

“Have you got a problem staying with the Bruleys? I can take you to the palace to spend time with Liam instead?”

“No, I like Evie. She’s cool. Out of all the noble girls she’s the only one I like.” Jackson looked at Drake, then focused his gaze onto Evie- the two teenagers smiling at each other unknowingly to them providing the star cross lovers expression.

“You know son, who knows what our future holds - but you should fight for her. The blush has given it away. Don’t worry it’s our little secret. I love you son.”

“He knew about me liking you- that’s probably why.” Shrugging his shoulders, he was annoyed that it had taken this long to confess his true feelings to her.

“Oh really? How much do you like me?”

“I like you a lot. I love you to bits.”

“Good, because I love you too- Drake Walker.”

Jumping in reaction to the door opening and the sudden cold breeze- Drake slowly walked to investigate knowing full well that he locked the door.

Dad? Pausing he knew that he may sound crazy, but he always had a feeling that his father- his hero, was with him at all times. I got the girl, the girl you told me to fight for all those years ago. If you are here, I just want to thank you. And to let you know that the blush keeps reappearing. She’s beautiful, and I feel like the luckiest man alive. I hope you and the Bruley’s are up there having a big party- looking down on the two of us.

“Who are you talking to?” Evie asked as she ambled towards him, wondering why it was taking a long time to close the door.

“No one.” Placing a kiss on her forehead, he held her in his arms- looking up into the starry sky. “Do you want to go outside? I’ll set a fire up, eat al fresco.”

“Sounds perfect.”

*****

Drake set the fire up in a matter of seconds, placing candles around the table for that slight bit of extra warmth providing an romantic atmosphere also. The night brought such a silence that the crackle of the campfire was all that could be heard surrounding them. The intensity of the flames coming from the fire was as if they were dancing- providing a riot of warm colours. The lake nearby provided a tranquil atmosphere even in the moonlight- the reflection of the stars and the moon shimmering along the water.

“It’s so beautiful here.”

“The view is pretty beautiful..” Referring not to their surroundings but to Evie instead. “When you said to Toby about your soulmate....”

“I meant you..” Evie interrupted. “It makes sense in a way. Maxwell was my first kiss- it meant nothing. Liam was my first, and even though we were drunk it didn’t feel right. But with you... it was like fate. I didn’t want to leave you when I kissed you here, but you was so frustrating and I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Then Vegas, for the first time sex actually meant something and I let my insecurities get to me..”

“So why does it make sense?”

“I just assumed that you and Kiara would be married with kids - I assumed the same with me and Liam. When Kiki used to drool over you, I now realise that there was a sense of jealousy. We were close too back in the day.”

“That’s exactly how I felt with you and Li. But, now this is about you and I. I would never marry her, she would be driving me up the wall talking all the different languages.”

“I should really talk to her about us, before someone- or should I say Olivia tells her.”

“It’s none of her business, stop thinking about everyone else Evie. Liam was your first, Kiara was my first but that’s in the past. Let’s think about the present and the future.” Drake didn’t want to give her the opportunity to ask for him to elaborate on what he had just said- like Maxwell she was very persistent. Making s’mores on the fire, she sat next to him and wrapped the blanket around her- watching him in awe wishing she could make the delicious dessert.

“Be careful, it’s hot.”

“I’m sure I can handle it Mr Walker. Thank you.” They both ate in silence, Drake kept looking over at her- watching her lick her lips whilst savouring the taste of the s’mores. He felt his cock twitch- imagining her lips around it. Leaning over to kiss her on the forehead, his lips were soft and warm. Placing the s’mores on the floor, she wrapped her arms around his neck- giving him permission to take her. His lips fell against her rosy cheeks- brushing them ever so lightly as he made his way to her neck. The touch sent shivers down her spine, through her nerves- making her whole body tremble.

Evie knelt on her knees, she knotted her fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against her- roaming his chiseled body under his shirt- every touch she made, made him feel weak at the knees. Groaning softly his arms circled her petite frame, pulling her flush against him as he laid back on the floor, they rolled over on the floor, limbs tangled together, still kissing passionately grateful that no one was around. Feeling his lips on her, they devoured her in a single touch- this touch made her lacy thong under her dress instantly wet. Rolling her over, he stood up- his hand towards her, gesturing for her to follow his actions. As she stood, the blanket that was tangled in between them slowly fell to the floor- his hand positioned on her cheek as if it was a magnet. Caressing her cheeks gently, they both stared at each other- the eye contact providing communication- the desire, the lust. His thumb began to stroke her jawline, creating flutters in her stomach. Pulling his shirt over his head in slow motion- her fingers traced his body once she discarded it on the ground, feeling his hard and firm muscles against her as she guided his lips to hers. His longish dark hair that fell naturally was now impersonating tousled locks, due to Evie running her fingers through it. Drake hooked his fingers through her dress straps, pulling each side down. Softly kissing her shoulders, goosebumps appeared as well as silent moans escaping from her lips. Unzipping her dress, within a few seconds, it was pooled around Evie’s ankles. The heavy scent of his whiskey breath and arousal flooded her instantly- Drake was now her drug, and she was hooked on to him. Unclasping her bra adeptly, she was impressed with his skills- removing it he licked his lips, admiring her perfect body. Guiding his hands down her body, his hands paused under the elastic of her lacy thong- before removing them. Being shirtless with his jeans hung low on his hips, revealing the black waistband of his boxers- Evie bit her lip, wanting to feel him in every way. Noticing her eyes gazing towards his jeans, he removed them along with his underwear- allowing his manhood to be released and to breathe. He reached out to cup her breasts in his palms, his thumbs flicked over her hardened nipples. “Drake...” He was now done for, hearing her moan his name. He drew back and picked her up in his arms. Laying her gently on the floor Evie felt a shudder go up her back- until Drake provided her with skin to skin bond- making her feel instantly warmer along with the warmth wafting from the fire.

Drake dropped back and used his tongue to ignite her. With long swipes, he devoured her instantly. He licked her folds, her back arched and a low moan left her throat. “Evie, you...” Placing her finger over his lips she prevented him from speaking. “Shh... don’t speak. Just love me Drake.” Placing her hands on his cheeks, she guided him back down - his mouth ravaged her between her legs, hearing and feeling her pleasure build up quickly made him feel like he wasn’t going to last long. Evie’s body was now trembling, jolts of electricity racing through her veins. His fingers slid in and out of her, hitting that sensitive spot. Drake slowed down his movements before circling her clit with his thumb, closing her eyes- her last orgasm made him instantly want to claim her as his, feeling smug with himself that he had pleased her. Abruptly he withdrew his fingers, leaving her wanting more- doing this from a selfish perspective as he just wanted to feel himself inside of her. He traced the tip of his finger over his lower lip licking all of her juices off his newly coated fingers. Biting her lip- he looked seductive in her mind. Laying over her, closing her eyes she felt as if the world surrounding them had disappeared-she fluttered her eyes open as he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She was in agony with her injuries, but wasn’t going to resist. Settling his body onto hers gently, she could feel his own arousal- his hard cock in between her thighs, his heavy breathing. Staring deep in to her eyes, his hand massaged her butt cheek and thigh in a tantalising rhythm as she raised her leg- resting it on his side. Showering her body with gentle, soft kisses, each with its own flicker of warmth and love- their lips moving in perfect sync as the kisses became more passionate by every second that went by.

“Roll over Drake.”

“Why?”

“So I can see to you.”

“I don’t want you to. I just want you Evie- allow me to love you as you said before. No speaking.” Nodding, he pushed her legs apart then teasingly rubbing his cock over her clit, her wetness now lingering on the tip of his cock. Removing her hair away from her neck, he then kissed and licked her neck. Without warning, he slid his tongue into her mouth- their kiss was sensual- soon turning demanding.

Moving his hips, his cock was pressed against her entrance- he began to penetrate her, his thick length pushed inside her with a strong thrust. Pausing to allow time for her to adapt, he began to drive in and out- slowly yet deeply, whilst kissing her. The sensation worked her up fast, the passion between the two of them made her release multiple times- each thrust providing love. She shoved her hips upwards towards him over and over, assisting him to deepen the thrusts. Desperately wanting to feel him release and to ride the waves of passion together. Drake slowed his movements down, she felt his shaft pulsing shortly before he released his seed inside her- the warm sensation made her legs feel like jelly- their breathing was now in unison. Both staring deeply into one another’s eyes.

Laying next to her he drew close and kissed her softly.

“Evie?”

“Mmm... yeah?” Still feeling slightly aroused, her mind was in a daze as she laid in his arms.

“You are beautiful, the most incredible person I know. I’m scared that one day you are going wonder what the hell you are doing with me.” Sitting up, she looked at him with frustration- furrowing her eyebrows as she turned her body towards him. Drake had always put himself down ever since they were younger, always lacked confidence.

“Drake... you’re never going to lose me.” Unless some fucker kills me. “That is my vow to you- I love you.” Vow? She just means a promise- I’d marry her in a heartbeat though.

“I love you too Evangeline Grace.” There was no wind present in the air, the candles and fire flickered as a cold breeze passed them- fate, he thought to himself. Shaking his head he silently laughed in his mind, holding Evie lovingly they watched the stars above them- both feeling content.

*****

Bastien was due to clock off from his shift- immediately knowing that Olivia was waiting for him. Knowing that his duty for the royal family was his priority- he was always eager to finish work. He had watched Olivia grow up and never believed that she would see him in the way that he sees her- in the back of his mind he believed that most people would believe that she saw him as a father figure rather than a lover. Hearing the commotion coming from the palace entrance - he rolled his eyes back knowing that he would be doing overtime again. Following the noise, he dread to think what was happening.

“Where’s my son! I need him now....” Slurring there was a crowd surrounding the woman on the floor. Liam and Olivia tried assisting the woman up, until she became incontinent. For fuck sake, the guard muttered to himself. Joining the crowd he asked for everyone to leave.

“Liam, take Duchess Riley upstairs immediately. I’ll deal with her.”

“I’ve tried to explain that he isn’t here, but she won’t take no for an answer.”

“I’ll escort her out. Don’t worry about a thing your Majesty.” Olivia insisted on staying with her partner, she had never really liked the woman in the first place but seeing her in this way made her feel sorry for the people involved past and present.

“I need my son... this place killed his father... the Royal family and the Bruleys turned him against me... get me him now...”

“Bianca, Drake is indisposed at this moment in time.” Bastien explained calmly, frustrated that she could arrive in Cordonia unexpected in this state.

“Mrs Walker, your son is finally happy for once in his life. Go back to yeehaw land and leave him the fuck alone!” Olivia hated defending Drake, they had never been close but this woman that called herself a mother was a mess.

“Fuck you ice queen... I’m saving him from all of this... all of you... Jackson died because of this place.”

“No Bianca! Jackson died because of you!”

[wetookanoath]

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen it, but in the first postmortem the boys do, Ryan says that Shane once told him that he [Shane] wants his last words to be “Keep Rolling.” Do you think you could write a fic based on that? I feel like your writing would be perfect for that style fic. If you don’t want to, I understand. I love you ❤️❤️

Originally, this was two fics. One was the answer to this prompt that I started to write almost TWO years ago that then morphed into a parallel story to Like You Want To Be Loved from Ryan’s POV, and the other was a birthday gift for @mercury-skies (I’m so sorry I missed the date!), but then I realized both were pretty similar and said, “fuck it, canon divergence”. Which… is what this is, lol. In this Canon Divergence kinda AU thing, Shane has had Obi since he moved to LA.

Dear Soph, I hope you like this little thingy. I’m so sorry it took so long, I hope your birthday was as wonderful as you. I love you, you are one of the reasons I’m in this fandom still, and one of my best friends. I hope to have you in my life for a thousand years.

PS: It’s not a parallel story to LYWTBL.

(Read on AO3)

I’ll Stick With You, Baby, For A Thousand Years

If you asked Ryan, it all started in the Sallie House.

He had known Shane for almost two years before he asked him to be part of Unsolved. There was a certain amount of nervousness when he did so, and a sweet and almost shy smile on Shane’s face when he said yes without looking at him, pretending to not be excited. 

Ryan knew then it had been a good idea.

In that evil house, he confirmed this thought when he had ran out of the place with his blood rushing through his veins in hot waves, heart pounding crazy in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything but the million ways his brain had told him the demon inside the house was going to kill him if he kept messing with it in there, Shane’s juvenile laugh so far away now that Ryan wondered if he had imagined it.

At first, he also thought he was imagining the man coming out of the house in such a calm manner, it made Ryan feel even more uneasy. But his friend had approached him, asked if he was okay, and when he hadn’t gotten an answer, waited until Ryan was ready to look up at him a few seconds later.

“We have to get back inside, Ryan,” he had said and Ryan had shook his head no, no, no, never. “Look, I know you’re scared but this is our job now, man. We committed to this, we are gonna finish this together.”

“I don’t want to die…” he murmured. Shane chuckled but it didn’t really sound offensive to his ears. In a way, it made him feel a bit better that the man found all this so funny.

Shane was smiling, that was the trick that did it. He smiled at Ryan, bright and kind, finding Ryan’s fear endearing somehow and not shameful. His hands were on Ryan’s shoulders in a heartbeat, his face neutral as he spoke again.

“You are not gonna die, I won’t let that happen. None of us will.” He said. “You are already the bravest of us by deciding to walk in there earlier today, knowing that you believe in whatever could be there.”

“Are you admitting there’s a demon in the house?”

“I’m admitting nothing but the only truth we know for sure: you believe in it, it scares you, and yet you set foot there like a boss.” He smiled again, squeezing Ryan’s right shoulder. “In my book, you’ve already won against that bitch little girl.”

At the time, it had made him laugh. Ryan swallowed and nodded, readying himself to get back into the house when Shane’s hands cradled his face in his big hands. His heart stopped beating and for a second, Ryan wished Shane would kiss him.

The man looked at his face instead, as if searching for something Ryan wasn’t sure was in him. After a few seconds, he smirked.

“Let’s get back in there, little guy.” It was the first time he had called him that and it made Ryan want to listen to him forever. “Let’s finish this job.”

They had gone in there together, Shane behind him, ready to push him into the place if necessary but it wasn’t. Instead, Ryan had tried his best to not piss his pants and let Shane keep laughing in the face of danger like if he wasn’t scared for the soul of his friend.

Shane made things different, Ryan noticed, in a way he hasn’t witnessed before. 

Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t believe that made him brave in Ryan’s eyes, screaming and laughing at empty spaces Ryan thought were filled with evil they couldn’t see. But Shane looked back at him, the tender smile of earlier and Mexico City, and San Jose, and that afternoon at work when he had popped the question, so sweet on his lips, making his face kinder and Ryan had to blink back unknown tears.

“You really are scared, aren’t you?” Shane asked him later as they laid down on the floor.

He had gotten his sleeping bag closer to Shane and the man had laughed, allowing him this as he was allowing him so much lately. Ryan said nothing to his question, thinking it unnecessary when it was so obvious what was happening to him.

Many shadows were taking strange shapes, windows seemed to get darker, and Shane came into view still with all the lights off. Ryan looked at him as the man got closer to Ryan and laid on his side, looking at him.

“Give me,” he said. Ryan frowned and realized he was offering him his hand. Shane was asking for his. “Give me that hand.”

Hesitant, Ryan moved his hand until it was on Shane’s. The man grabbed it like if he was trying to warm it up, keeping it against his in a firm grip without interlocking their fingers or doing anything else, just holding it. Shane sighed, licking between his lips before squeezing Ryan’s hand.

“Nothing you think may be out there is real.” He murmured, Ryan was already aware this was something they were getting cut for the video. “Nothing out there can hurt you, I promise you that.”

“You can’t do that.”

The man smiled. “Don’t contradict me, Bergara, never underestimate my competitiveness.”

Ryan couldn’t help but giggle at that, both of them were certainly assholes when it came to competing against others and against each other. In a way, it was one of the first things that attracted him to Shane, the way he seemed to encourage him into competing with him to be the best new thing in the office. It was insufferable and oddly motivational.

“I’ll keep you safe and alive just so I can say I told you so.”

“I bet you would.”

Shane’s eyes closed, he was still smiling as sleepiness started to call him back into its arms. Ryan swallowed as he thought of leaving again. But as if sensing his thought, Shane squeezed his hand.

“You are safe with me, angel.”

Somehow, it gave him the courage to stay until past the witching hour. Shane had laughed at his inability to stay for the rest of the night but had put his hand on his thigh as they drove away from the house, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, and it rang in Ryan’s ears for the rest of the night. He was unable to sleep, even in the comfort of their hotel room.

He thought there, as he tossed around the mattress and the sheets, that Shane was some kind of handsome he hadn’t noticed before. He was cute, always has been. Funny and caring, protective in a way.

And he also had a girlfriend.

**

“I got one.” Shane said.

“Shoot!”

“What post-apocalyptic world is the most interesting you’ve seen in a movie?”

Ryan took a deep breath, thinking of his answer as he drove. They were alone in the car, the rest of the crew had taken their own rental with the excuse of wanting to sleep, “the truth is that you two never shut up”, Mark had told them. And Ryan was actually kind of be grateful for it. He enjoyed these 20 Questions sessions more than he cared to admit.

“Maybe Mad Max? I mean, it would be bananas to live in that!” he answered, and Shane chuckled at it. “Ugh, you’re going to say something pretentious like The Matrix or Terminator.”

“What’s pretentious about Terminator?!” Shane kept laughing, his eyebrows high and face surprised.

They laughed together a few more seconds before Shane answered. “My answer is kind of obscure, actually.”

“Holy shit.”

“But that’s not how 20 Questions goes, Ryan.”

“Shit, I don’t give a fuck.” He frowned, then rolled his eyes when he saw Shane looking at him with that shitty grin of his. “Okay then, same question for you.”

There was a shift in the air and Ryan wasn’t sure what to make of it, but Shane was suddenly serious, looking to the road outside the window.

“Children of Men.”

An obscure future for sure. 

“Why?”

Shane smiled at him. “It’s my turn.”

“Oh, come on!”

The man giggled but cleared his throat before answering. “I think it’s something not so far away or impossible.” He said. “And I found it interesting, the way people reacted around the girl and her miraculous child.” Shane licked his lips and swallowed. “Hopeless world suddenly has hope in the form of a young lady and a baby…”

“I always thought it was kind of like the Jesus tale,” Ryan commented. “Mary was just a random young kid having the son of God, the hope that was promised.”

“Oh yeah, like obvious Christian imagery aside, it’s very interesting.”

Ryan sighed, the silence that followed felt oddly charged but none dared to break it. It felt sacred too, like if they had just shared something important and not just an opinion on a movie’s portrayal of the world after its end. 

“You were raised Christian, right?” Shane asked suddenly.

“Catholic,” he murmured. “Even went to a Catholic school, and Grandma Bergara made sure to remind me every Sunday why I shouldn’t wake up early that day. Church ain’t that fun.”

Shane said nothing for a few seconds, then asked: “You think believing in ghost has something to do with your faith?”

Ryan frowned, thinking about his answer again. It was his turn to ask, but Shane’s question tickled in his brain as he thought over his family, the exchange in cultures, all that spiritualism he had absorbed over the years.

He had been a non-believer of the supernatural in his early teens, but had faith. Ryan wasn’t sure if it was actually something he grew up to have or was something he had picked from his parents. Regardless, he wasn’t a religious person but he had faith.

“Maybe,” he finally said. “I have faith there’s something else after death. Sometimes souls don’t pass on and stay here.”

“What about demons and all that, Ryan?”

“Well…” His hands were sweating on the steering wheel, Ryan swallowed before answering again. “If there’s good, there’s evil. One can’t exist without the other.” He repeated what his grandmother once told him. “Why are you asking me this?”

Shane looked at him as if he had been caught doing something wrong. His eyes were wide open and his eyebrows were up again. He recovered soon, clearing his throat and sitting straighter on his seat.

“Well, I don’t believe in any of that. I get curious.”

Ryan looked at him for a few seconds, then back at the road.

“So you’re saying, you don’t have faith?” Ryan asked, Shane blinked. “I mean, not like a religion or something. But, just faith that there may be more.”

“No, I guess I don’t,” he murmured.

There were a million other things Ryan wanted to ask him. Even after so many years, he still had so many questions for the man, and he hoped the roads never ended for them, for their little show to keep giving them excuses to leave town and experience all this together.

In that moment, though, Ryan changed the subject by keeping their previous game with more questions about movies and simpler, sillier things.

Shane’s words still echoed in his head as they kept going and the night approached with their arrival to the hotel. Tomorrow they would be working, but tonight they still had a few minutes to spare with each other, laying together on the same bed of their double room.

“I would really like to believe in something, you know?” Shane said, one arm over his forehead as he looked at the ceiling. “Wrap myself into it, find something beyond what is said and done.”

“Why?”

There was no answer for him, just Shane’s eyes piercing Ryan’s soul as he seemed to be looking for something on his face again. It was then that his free hand moved, fingers holding Ryan’s chin up as Shane kept watching.

“Because it’s terrifying to live in a world so still!” he suddenly said with enough goofiness to distract anyone from the grey shadow that had appeared over him. Ryan blinked a couple of times. “If there’s something else aside from the things we know, well, I gotta know too! Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Yeah.” Ryan answered after a pause. “I guess it would.”

The silence that followed made him think of Shane these past months they’ve spent together, travelling for their show and how it had become theirs after it had been his for what felt like an eternity. Make no mistake; Brent had been a good host, one of his best friends still. But the man was never as present as Shane seemed to be now, so involved and worried for it to be as perfect as possible.

Shane, the perfectionist. Going behind Ryan to edit better, giving him so many great ideas that Ryan didn’t know how else to credit him other than to name him co-parent of this little project that was becoming popular. He wondered for a moment where would Unsolved take them, if it was going to become a monster or an angel.

“I really wanna see a ghost, Ryan.” Shane said suddenly, making him look back to find Shane sitting on the bed. “You better prove me wrong.”

It felt like a promise.

“Oh, you’ll eat your words, sir,” he said, and Shane smiled at him. “You’re gonna kiss my ass soon, we are so gonna get something one of these days.”

They laughed together; it seemed like they were always laughing together about the same shit. Their laughter was bright and obscure, and sometimes it made other people wonder what was it. Maybe that was their own ghost, the thing only they could see.

Shane’s fingers caressed the tip of Ryan’s nose out of nowhere, and he blinked as he saw him wink and stand from the bed, walking towards the bathroom without saying any other words.

He had never seen him act this way with anyone else but his girlfriend. Ryan wondered if he was this open with his closer friends, if Ryan could consider himself one of them now. 

Back then, he wondered so many things that it felt like a never ending game of 20 Questions.

**

When Ryan first admitted he was in love, Shane was single and drunk in New Orleans.

Each city they visited fell into their laps in a way he had never experienced before, like each place had been waiting for them. Ryan knew it was in part because they cheated shamelessly and chose places were they could visit other touristy ends, have a good dinner with the crew, and sleep well when they weren’t covered in webs and dust.

But New Orleans had magic in the air, on its people, and around each corner.

They had partied with their crew and for the first time, Ryan felt like they were going to be friends forever. He had known these people for years now, but that night, when that they cheered together and promised each other another year of spooks and bad mornings, he just knew. 

Warm beer had never tasted so good.

By the time they made it to their room, they were drowned in laughter, trying to carry each other to their respective beds. They ended laying together on Shane’s, laughing at their inability to stand and walk, drunk out of their minds with Ryan pretended touching Shane wasn’t making him combust on the spot.

He remembered little bisexual Ryan watching his crush play football in high school, how he thought Rod had looked so good under the sun and he would never like anyone else ever. Not the way he had liked Rodrigo that summer when he was fourteen. Time made him braver, steps were given, confessions were made, hearts were broken, and time kept going by.

Now he was looking at Shane, kind and brilliant Shane, who was always smiling and looking out for him. Who was very available now, bathed in neon blue light with his cheeks and nose red, eyes closed before they finally opened and looked at Ryan.

Ryan wished he could take a picture of this. The way Shane was looking at him like there wasn’t anywhere else in the world he wanted to be and no one else in his life he wanted to be with. It made his heart suddenly turn, find a home in his crush that was no longer just a crush.

It couldn’t be. Not when Ryan was sure he would bare himself to this man and reveal his deepest secrets if he wanted, when he would sacrifice everything in exchange for just having Shane’s happiness and he would be grateful. Just like that, he blinked tears away, and he was in love.

His lips parted, but no words were spoken. Shane just looked at him, into his eyes, for what felt like forever, until his eyes started to move around his face as he so often did. Ryan licked his lips and Shane’s eyes were on them immediately.

“I wanna kiss you, angel.”

“Uh, okay.”

“I won’t,” he said. Ryan frowned and felt his heart tense. “We’re drunk, I don’t want to spoil our first kiss like that.”

“Oh.” And just like that, his heart was beating fast. Happy. “I wouldn’t mind…”

“I would. Big time.” He smiled. “It has to be perfect, Ry.” Shane said, putting one hand on Ryan’s cheek. “Like you.”

He wanted to cry, instead he chuckled and watched as Shane fell asleep with his hand on his face. He wasn’t sure when he had succumbed to dreams, but he woke up to Shane gone, from the bed and their room, and the sun burning his eyes like tears.

**

“Here’s a new one.” Ryan said as they drove to the theater. “Ideally speaking…”

“Mhm.” Shane exclaimed, listening.

“How would you like to die?”

“Ugh, getting dark already and we haven’t even eat anything,” the man said, making both of them laugh as he waited for an answer. “I guess asleep, right? We all want that, the less trouble the better.”

“Just asleep?”

“Sure.”

“No old age? Just any time is fine, laid down on the bed and pggghhh– dead.”

“What the fuck was that? Pgggh?” Shane laughed, Ryan smiled as he finally saw the mall building and the slightly small line to enter the parking lot. “Oh man, you already know the answer. Old age is fine, though I’ve been feeling fifty since I was fifteen.”

The car filled with laughs, and they stayed in comfortable silence while Ryan looked around the lot to park. He sighed, reminded himself to be cool, he didn’t need to scare off Shane already on their first non-official date. He wanted to ask him if this movie thing was in fact a date, or if he had dreamed what happened in New Orleans.

But ever since that night, Shane had been especially attentive with him. And Ryan was no liar, he well loved the coffee in the morning, the good night texts, Shane’s jacket around his shoulders when they walked around like a pair of old men in the afternoon. 

Yet, he didn’t have the guts or the will to deal with the answer being no. Ryan reminded silent.

“My turn,” Shane said when Ryan finally parked, he nodded and waited for the question. “What would you like your last words to be?”

“Oh boy.” His eyebrows moved on its own, already thinking of the answer for such a hard question.

“‘Oh boy’?” Shane’s own eyebrows went high, Ryan shook his head and the man laughed. “What? Are you going to be, like, killed by aliens or something?”

“Why aliens? You are watching The X Files again, don’t you?” he frowned, killing the engine as he looked at Shane, whose eyes had closed and become moons as he giggled like a child. “Fuck, I should have never told you about my crush on Mulder.”

“You like spooky boy!” 

“Oh my god, I’m on ninth grade again…”

“I was totally your type in ninth grade, though. A giant nerd.” He answered, the comment made Ryan’s heart beat faster.

“Jesus, that would be like– illegal, you know?” He reminded him. “I was a tiny child, you were a teen and a half!”

“Oh!” Shane seemed to remember. “Holy shit, I’m older!” His hand went to his mouth, he shook his head no and looked at him. “Christ, I’m glad we met as adults. Jesus.”

Ryan smiled at him and sighed before going back to the actual subject they were discussing previous to their latest branch in the conversation. “I think… I don’t know, man. I try not to think of me dying, it gives me… anxiety and stuff.”

“Uh, anxiety and stuff.” Shane repeated. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I think I will have to think about this one for a while and then I’ll get back to you.”

Shane smiled at him. He had unfasted the safety belt but hadn’t made any move to get out of the car. They still had a few minutes to spare, so Ryan said nothing and waited.

“I would like my last words to be something positive,” Shane said, and Ryan nodded, trying not to think of a world were Shane wasn’t there. “‘Keep going.’ Something like that.”

Ryan smiled again, his heart was feeling trapped inside his chest and he didn’t like the sensation. There were walls around him, caging him in the deep, dark and cold sea. If he kept thinking about it, about Shane dying, he would–

“I guess leaving this world on a positive note would be good,” Ryan said, hoping Shane wouldn’t notice the anxiety this small conversation had already given him. “Let’s go, big guy. I want to buy us the biggest popcorn they allow us to.”

Shane chuckled, opening his door and following him into the darkness of the parking lot, the noise of the city and the people walking around in their own private worlds. They walked side by side, the silence a bit forced. Ryan licked his lips, thinking of small conversation before he felt warm fingers on his.

Looking down at his hand, he saw Shane’s own taking it like he did a year ago in Kansas. Back then, he hadn’t interlocked their fingers as he was doing now, and it made Ryan look up at him to find him staring nervously at nothing in particular, front and nowhere else.

Ryan smiled, giving Shane’s hand a gentle squeeze. The silence felt warm even when his friend was too tall to hold hands like normal people do.

Normal was something he didn’t dare to be ever since he left college. It wasn’t what Ryan was, he guessed. And with Shane, he was just real.

**

He wasn’t sure when one date became many. Ryan wasn’t about to question it, though, he sure as hell was more than happy to keep going with Shane everywhere. 

The man took his hand, let him put an arm around his waist or interlock his arm to Shane’s while walking, and it all felt natural, like if they had been destined to be like this since before they met.

When he got that sappy, Ryan knew he needed to kiss Shane soon and call him his boyfriend sooner. Time had been nice to them and it was time for that payoff he had been waiting since New Orleans earlier that year.

**

Little after they started to film season 3 of Supernatural, things changed.

The rain had caught them on their way to Shane’s apartment building after they had found parking on the side. 

After the movies, they had gone to dinner and argued about Shane paying more than Ryan had on the cinema earlier the day. Ryan had lost the argument for the time being, but it didn’t matter if it let him see Shane smile, make him look all smug and charming. 

When they entered the lobby, the desk guy gave them a once over and sighed, making them laugh again before Ryan put on his tiptoes and ruffled Shane’s hair, drops going in all directions and making things worse. But the man smiled at him, sweet and open, looking so young it only made Ryan wish they could have this forever, that he could enjoy this man as he was for the longest time.

He kept thinking of a life like this, in which they got together to the same place after a long day of work. Where they could leave their shoes behind the fridge to dry them and their wet clothes spread around the bathroom to then wear comfy pants and old t-shirts, share a cozy bed that smelled of Shane and his chocolate shampoo.

“I can take the cou–”

“Nope,” Shane told him, pushing him in the direction of his bedroom. 

He also had a spare room. None of them mentioned it either.

Shane’s room was a world of its own. Like the rest of his apartment, it had movie posters here and there, books and toys, collection worthy items of shows and films he loved, and his silent cat Obi in the corner, hidden on his Amazon box where Ryan couldn’t reach him.

“He’ll come along, don’t worry,” Shane told him, patting the space at his side on the bed. “I’m not gonna bite you, Ry.”

“Jesus.” Ryan laughed, feeling his cheeks warmth. Once on the bed, he saw Obi peek out the box to watch them settle under the sheets together. “He’s watching us…”

“He’ll come later and sleep over my head. Maybe yours!”

“Uh…” Ryan blinked, hoping the shot he got for his allergies last week worked as it should. “Let’s hope you don’t have to drive me to the hospital in the middle of the night.”

“I can take him out, it’s no problem,” Shane assured him, frowning at the thought of Ryan’s allergies reacting bad around him. 

Ryan smiled at him. “It’s okay,” he said. “First, I got that damn shot and it better work because it actually hurt like a motherfucker. Two, it’s been years since I last reacted badly to being exposed to cat hair, so I don’t think it will be bad. If so, just a few sneezes. I can take those sneezes.”

“Are you sure?” Shane asked, still very serious, and so very close to Ryan’s face.

“Yeah. This is his house, I’m the visitor,” he answered, giving the same thought he always has regarding his dogs. Shane smiled at him this time, taking his chin with his fingers. 

“Shane?”

“You’ll be a good stepfather,” he murmured, Ryan swallowed visibly but only nodded. Shane’s fingers moved, his palm now over Ryan’s cheek and he leaned into it, sharing a smile with Shane. “I got it now.”

“What?”

“‘Keep rolling.’” he said. Ryan frowned and moved his head a little, trying to understand what the man was talking about. “What I would like my last words to be.”

“Oh.”

“No, hear me out.” He laid down, making Ryan lay at his side. His hand was still on his face, fingers caressing his cheek lovingly. 

Ryan didn’t had the heart to tell him he didn’t like this conversation, that he had forgotten all about it in the months they had been getting this close and wasn’t looking forward to being anxious on Shane’s bed when it was his first time here. But Shane looked happy as they were, smiling at Ryan as he caressed his cheek gently.

“I either become the next David Fincher,” Ryan laughed at that, knowing exactly where this was going. “Or die by a demon’s paw on location, and you better keep rolling.”

“God, don’t say that!” Ryan begged, feeling his throat close like that time months ago when they had first gone out and talked about this. “I would never let you die on location. Or ever.”

“You are not gonna let me die?” Shane smiled, his thumb caressed Ryan’s skin with care. It made Ryan sigh. “Do you plan on keeping me forever, Bergara?”

If there was a double meaning to this, Ryan took it, nodding without finding his voice to say something else. Maybe something romantic, confess his feelings and how he had them for so long. Instead, Shane’s forehead leaned on his and they shared the same air, his warm breath making Ryan want to close his eyes and lean into those lips.

“I’ll stick with you, you know,” Shane said. Ryan nodded again and this time, he closed the distance between them.

Shane wanted a perfect kiss, he had told him that in New Orleans months ago. If the two of them smelling of rain and Shane’s aftershave, nested on his sheets as his cat purred somewhere on the pillows over their heads wasn’t the perfection he was looking for, then Ryan was willing to spend the rest of his life searching for it as long as it let him kiss those lips.

He softly moved against Shane’s mouth as the man moaned between them, parting his lips to deepen the kiss. Both his hands were now on Ryan’s face, cradling it gently as they kissed ever so slowly, almost scared of somehow ruining the other, like the other was a precious crystal to be kept untouched.

But they were free to touch each other, and Ryan’s hands were reminded of this as he sank his fingers into Shane’s hair while his other hand traveled down his back, and up again, until it went to his waist and held him there to never let him go.

Their lips made a wet sound when they went apart, Ryan’s eyes still closed, unable to come back to a reality where he wasn’t tasting Shane’s mouth. The man’s soft laugh made him finally open his eyes and find him staring back at Ryan with that spark in his eyes, the same one he had seen so many times before, that many people were noticing in their videos and their Instagram posts.

“I guess that’s a yes?” Shane murmured, Ryan chuckled and rolled his eyes, pecking his lips one, two and three times before kissing him long again, more passionate this time. “Such a good kisser, I knew you were gonna rock my boat.”

“Oh, I’m rocking it. I’m rocking it alright. All night if I can.”

Shane’s smile widened, his face getting pink. “Keep rolling, angel.”

**

If Ryan was dreaming, he better never woke up. 

The morning after he spent the night at Shane’s, he woke up before the man. He watched him sleep for a few seconds, having to get out bed when Obi kept looking at him as if judging him for being a creep. Ryan gave it to the cat, he was maybe being weird, but Shane looked so peaceful and content, it was hard to look away.

He used the bathroom, dressed up in Shane’s button down from last night and his own boxers, and left the room for the kitchen, Obi right behind him, meowing his gratefulness as he ran to the little home office where Ryan knew his scratcher was.

Obi scratched at his toy, the sound filling the apartment in the early morning of the best weekend of Ryan’s life, and he decided right then that he could get used to this and be happy forever.

What had started so long ago felt like it was coming to a friendly end, a thing that initiated something else. Ryan supposed his grandma was right, and every ending, happy or sad, is just a new beginning and this one had left him with purple and reddish marks on his neck, hand prints on his hips, beard burns where only he could see and feel, and a happy smile on his face.

He sighed, very much aware of how he knew Shane’s kitchen as if it were his own, how Shane liked his coffee and what kind of breakfast he liked to have. 

Today was going to be a great morning, no matter what.

**

Ryan never thought people would pick up on his closeness with Shane by such small things like saying– okay, yeah. Maybe that wasn’t so common, right? To know what your friend wanted his last words to be? He blinked a couple of times, scrolling down the comments section of their first ever Q & A video for their Unsolved episodes.

This had been one of Shane’s strokes of genius, a small video answering questions and comments for each video they got out on Friday. It wasn’t strange at all that management had liked the idea and greenlight it for them to film every Monday to go online on Wednesday.

Looking at the comments, wondering what people would say of their newest addition, Ryan never thought he would encounter praise for their friendship, “they really are that close”, and well. He arched an eyebrow. He would expect so, seeing this was the man he was sleeping with now.

“Stop doing that to yourself,” he heard at his side, Ryan turned to see Shane still driving, looking in front instead of him. “I see you, stop torturing yourself with the comments sections. That’s a strange place and you know it.”

“I just wanted to know what they thought of the Post Mortem thing.”

“You can tell the intern to have a look at that.” He smiled, looking at Ryan for a few seconds before turning his eyes to the road again. 

Ryan sighed, leaning his head on the window as he watched Shane drive, an unusual image that felt like some sort of dream to him. One that came true, he noted. His reality couldn’t be happier now, even if they weren’t ready to put it everywhere on social media yet.

“They say we’re really close.”

“Well, seeing we have dick appointments with each other, I would hope so.”

He chuckled, their laughs echoing in the car before they sank into comfortable silence. 

That day had been actually good. They had gotten the green light on their idea to go to England, have some episodes of Unsolved over there, and enjoy vacations after. It meant not only another step on their growing show, but a step in their relationship.

Vacations with Shane to another country, now that they were together… boy, maybe the fact that they were such good friends before getting into each other’s skin the way they had done was a good thing. It took off some of the initial doubts and awkwardness, let him dive into domesticity and couple life as soon as possible.

“We are really close,” Shane said while they waited on a red light. Ryan looked at him. The man smiled when he looked back. “I don’t think anyone knows me like you do.”

“Oh, come on…” he said with a huge grin, face feeling warm. “I already suck your cock, no need to say those things.”

Shane chuckled and shook his head. “You little shit, I mean it!”

Ryan laughed, leaving his phone aside and looking as Shane’s face turned bright, his happy expression ever so beautiful on him, and it made Ryan feel proud to know he had put that face on him. He sighed as Shane drove again, closer to his apartment now.

“Ry?” he called him. Ryan looked back and waited. “When was the last time you were in your apartment?”

His face felt warmer. If he hadn’t blushed before, he sure was now.

“I, I can take a Lyft–”

“No, no.” Shane looked at him for a couple of seconds, then back to the road. “In fact, you don’t have to go back anymore if you don’t want to.” He said, Ryan’s eyes opened wide. “You know?”

“Shane…”

“I’m saying, come live with me. Us.” He said, smiling at him when they stopped on another red light. “I’m sure Obi would love to have you there officially.”

Ryan blinked a couple of times, heart pounding in his chest as he thought of his initial question. When was the last time he was in his own apartment? He couldn’t even remember. And he didn’t have to.

Looking up at Shane, Ryan nodded with a big smile.

“I would love to, big guy.”

“Great!”

The light turned green, and they kept going, closer to home.

**

“I’m just saying, people know I love you,” Shane said and Ryan looked at him immediately, eyes wide open. But the man kept scrolling down his Twitter feed, distracted. “I don’t think it would be a bad idea for us to just… Get out there and say it.”

“Shane,”

“I guess neither of us are out of the closet online, but it’s not like if we have been hiding all this time. Have we?” He finally put the phone down, looking at Ryan with a frown.

He blinked a couple of times, watching Shane act like if he hadn’t just drop a bomb on them with such simple words. It wasn’t even the ‘coming out online’ shit that was about to give him a headache, but the copious amount of times Ryan was to overthink Shane confirming he loved him that had left him mute.

Shane arched an eyebrow, looking behind him, then back at Ryan who was still pretty much in shock. He left his phone of the coffee table and cradle Ryan’s face as he often did.

“Ry?”

“You, you said–”

The man blinked, unaware of what was going on. He seemed to be thinking about it, probably going through their previous conversation to understand why Ryan was so still, so into his head to even talk.

Shane’s eyes widened and he looked about ready to panic for just a few seconds, but it was all replaced with a huge grin and that shine in his eyes that melted Ryan in the spot.

“People do know I love you.”

Ryan’s face felt warm, he wondered what color he was blushing. Shane kept smiling at him, caressing his cheeks before kissing him softly, the cat purring somewhere on Ryan’s back, probably rolling his eyes at them being like this once again in his presence, right in front of his whiskas. 

He wanted to yell at himself, so easily distracted from the moment with every thought that passed his head, every sound outside their bubble. Ryan was nervous, Shane chuckled against his lips after he barely responded, probably aware he was just… so anxious for nothing.

“Do you know I love you?” Shane asked, his voice sounding so soft, it made Ryan swallow.

“I… I don’t know…  I do now?”

Shane chuckled again, this time getting closer to Ryan’s face to kiss his forehead. Shane hugged him, letting Ryan lean his head on his shoulder. The vibrations of his laugh made him look up, clearing his throat before cradling Shane’s face. 

The man smiled at him.

“I love you,” Ryan murmured. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

“Mmm.” The man smiled. “I know.”

Ryan laughed, he could easily slap Shane for Han Solo-ing him, but there was just�� his eyes and the way he was kissing him, how far they had come. Ryan kissed him softly, deepening the kiss as soon as he could, pushing the man to lay into the couch with him on top.

“Scoundrel.” 

Shane smiled, pecking his lips once before finally, finally saying: “I love you too, sweetheart.”

**

If you asked Ryan, things started in the Sallie House.

That night, his attraction to Shane made itself notice in the way Ryan’s heart kept beating fast as the man held his hand between them, laying on the floor as he tried to sleep again. He had taken the footage from the final cut of the video, never spoke about it with the man until years later, when they were more than friends and had started to live together.

Watching it now, how young they were and how much was ahead, it made him smile.

“We were so fucking obvious, holy shit.” Shane murmured at his side, looking through cut footage from many episodes of their show. “You think people will be like ‘we been knew’ when they see this?”

“I think half of the internet already has, Shane.” He conceded. It had been a hilarious couple of years with fans and homophobes alike saying the weirdest, sometimes amazing things on their every platform. “But I think it’s time, don’t you?”

“Ryan, why did you never tell me that you can see my hard on during Goatman’s Bridge?” Shane asked instead, serious with a shine in his eyes that made Ryan’s whole body shiver. “This is the kind of cut shit you should show me more often, angel.”

“You are into such weird shit…” Including him, Ryan wanted to add. Ryan bit his bottom lip, waiting for Shane to answer.

When it didn’t come, he looked up from the tiny video they were doing to “officially” announce their relationship. Shane wasn’t on his side of the bed, and when Ryan looked around to find him, the man had taken away his laptop and tugged at his heels to get him under his body.

“What are you doing, you weirdo?” Ryan asked between laughs, Shane winked at him.

“You know what else is mine aside from that bridge?”

“Oh my God. No, no, get out! We have work to do!”

“You.” He smirked. “You are mine, baby. Until death do us apart. And maaaaybe beyond, right? If your faith can guide us there.”

He felt his cheeks blush, Shane’s smile was too sweet for someone who was about to bone his boyfriend a second time that day. Ryan rolled his eyes, smiling at him when Shane brushed his crotch with his, already getting hard in his pants. 

“You are so fucking corny.” 

“Horny, baby. Horny.”

If you asked Ryan, this was the start of the golden years of their lives together.

***

**

*

[flowerymoonlight]

When you told me | 1

pairing: Werewolf! Bucky x Witch! Reader

genre: fluff? crack? angst? a little bit of everything but you decide

word count: 1,334

summary: You are finally done with Natasha’s meddling. Even if the last time gets you in more trouble than all the other ones combined.

warnings: mini mention of anxiety over kids/ parenting but nothing too much its mostly just fun stuff for now, oh and tinie mention of an injury

author’s note: this is for @geosaurusrrex​​‘s 2k challenge thank you so much for giving me a couple more days babe!! @valkyriesryde​ I said witch au didn't i, also this got away from me so much blame bucky

“YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE A DOG PERSON!” You scream at Bucky laying on the floor with a hand clutching his stomach. He grunts as you pace back and forth in your living room.

“Well…” You narrow your eyes at his ridiculous attempt to deny the elephant in the room.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING WEREWOLF.” You scream at him again, thinking maybe he didn’t get the memo in his first turn. He tries to shrug one shoulder and just ends up hissing as the movement disturbs the wound under his hand.

You sigh, dropping your head and resting your hands on your hips. This is a mess you did not want to spend your Friday night cleaning. To be honest this is not how your Friday even began, hell, not even your week. It all started when Bucky walked into your life and brought all his mess with him.

--5 days earlier--

You flop down on the chair next Natasha and a heavy sigh leaves your lungs as you throw your head back. She continues to sip on her coffee and read the book in her hand. You send a half-hearted glare her way only because there is a cup of your own coffee in front of you.

“You’re late,” it leaves her mouth calm but if you know Tasha, and you do, she’s one step away from furious. And you never, ever, want to go furious with Natasha.

“Wand and Pietro made a mess again.” You sigh, twisting your hands in your hair and lifting a finger in front of Tasha before she got to say the words you’ve heard a million times. “And yes, I know that is not a good excuse but could you cut some slack on the single mom please?” Your voice cracks at the end, not even you, knowing how much you’ve been holding onto till you had someone you could really talk to about this.

“Hey, you’re doing great and I’m really proud of you for doing this for them you know that right?” Natasha had abandoned her book to place her hand on your forearm and squeeze reassuringly. You breathed out and closed your eyes trying to focus on Nat’s touch to ground you so your anxiety can’t get the better of you again.

You always did get a little emotional when the talk went towards your adoptive children. Well, technically, maybe they weren’t exactly your adoptive children – legally. But you loved them all the same and the day that Pietro called you mom you cried for an hour before bed.

Yes, technically they were only staying with you for three years now but they were family the moment you knew they were like you and Tasha. Not that the society hasn’t come a long way from burning people but witches weren’t exactly safe just walking around on the street.

Especially when they couldn’t control their powers. So, that’s what you’ve been doing for the kids. You’ve been helping them both get ahold of their powers, and control them instead of the other way around, ever since they were almost caught.

Likely you were there to save the day and the rest is history.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Tash you’re the only one I can really talk to about this.” You open your eyes and she gently smiles at you and takes the book back in her hands to bookmark her page.

“You could have someone–”

“For the last time Tasha! I don’t need you to set me up with anyone!” You yell, maybe a little too loudly for a public cafe but Natasha has been trying to rule your love life since you practically met her and you have already endured nine years of this and it is most certainly enough.

“But listen! He’s really nice and the second I met him I thought that you two would hit it off beautifully.” She insists and you slump back in your seat. “Look, you don’t have to date him. I’m sure you two can be really good friends even if my meddling doesn’t work my way.” She tries to negotiate and you have to admit you find her offer rather tempting. But it definitely sounds too good to be true for Tasha.

“Fine,” you grumble, already half of you regretting the decision to listen to her.

“Great!” She exclaims with a smile and that is the most excited you’ve seen Nat since that Christmas that Clint gifted her combat knives. Sure, she’s a witch but she’s really good with her hands in extreme situations.

She puts the book she was reading back in her bag and before you can ask her anything else about this mystery guy someone plops down on the seat right across from you. You’re about to tell whoever that is off but Nat puts her hand on your forearm and explains.

“This is Bucky. He’s the friend I was telling you about.” You gape at her and her audacity to bring him here when you were totally unprepared. “Be nice.” She fixes you with a glare before getting her bag and walking away while you stare at her back getting further and further away.

“She sure is something, isn’t she?” You turn back around to stare at Bucky at the sound of his voice, which you will not acknowledge at this moment in time is probably the best thing you’ve ever heard, and try to find something in your head to say back to the gorgeous smile on your face.

He must be the nicest person you’ve ever met too because he chuckles and takes a sip of his coffee before elaborating. “Natasha told me that she was planning a sort of blind date for us and that she would totally tell you in advance. I guess it’s on me that she didn’t specify how much in advance she actually told you.”

You gape at him some more because first – you can’t believe this gorgeous man is taking the fault for Natasha’s wicked sense of humor and second – no man should never be allowed to be as pretty as he is, it’s just not fair. He must take your silence as a bad thing because the next thing you know he’s blushing and stumbling over his words.

“I’m sorry, this must’ve caught you totally off guard. I should go and let you get back to your day.”

Your hand reaches out before you could stop it and you grab his hand over the table as he goes to get up. “No!” You say maybe a little more worried than would be socially acceptable to a complete stranger but Bucy sits back down so it’s half a win right?

“You’re already here and Nat probably paid for my coffee before I got here because she knows I hate that. So..., we could just stay and have coffee. If you want.” You got a little shy towards the end there but Bucky smiles all big back at you, with teeth and everything ugh, as he settles back down in his chair and that is definitely a win.

“So, why do you like paying for coffee so much?” You smile before taking a sip from your cup.

Turns out Bucky isn’t half terrible – but you already knew that from his face so was it really a surprise? A coffee, lunch and frozen yogurt later you are only barely containing the tears that threaten to spill from your intense laughter.

You hadn’t laughed like that since a time that you rather not remember so having this with Bucky really gave your soul a break.

“Okay, okay,” you say, totally serious, standing in front of him and blocking his path. “Now for the most important question of the day ladies and gentlemen,” you announce as serious as you can without letting your laughter spill into the words – it doesn’t really work but Bucky will never call you out on it.

“Dogs or cats?”

[awkwardnessandbaseball]

I can't believe we're here at the end!!! The good news is that the 1-2 chapter (just deciding how to split it up) companion piece from Killian's POV will be posted on Monday! Thank you so much for reading this story that I truly never thought I would finish. It means everything to me that people liked it even the tiniest bit, and I hope this last chapter is as satisfying for you to read as it was for me to write. (Also, I took some liberties with the whole house-purchasing process, so... bear with me, okay?)

Once again, so many thanks to: @cspupstravaganza, @sherlockianwhovian , @lassluna

Tag list: @quirkykayleetam, @squidvisious, @carpedzem, @revanmeetra87, @kmomof4, @capnjay21 

AO3 if that’s your jam: Prologue | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7

I’d Pick You (and Your Little Dog, Too)

A Captain Swan Pupstravaganza Story

Summary: According to everyone in the known universe, Emma Nolan’s dog is supposed to lead her to her soulmate. But she’s not even sure if she wants that. Soulmates are pretty idealistic, don’t you think?

Chapter Seven:

Killian is going to propose.

Emma can feel it in her bones. No, in her very soul. Which makes sense since, you know, soulmates and all.

She can’t figure out when he’s going to do it, or where. He hasn’t asked her to go out to any special dinners. They haven’t made any plans to take the boat out yet, as apparently Killian wants it to be perfect before they take her on her maiden voyage as The Jolly Roger.

She supposes that could be why he wants to make it perfect, if he wants to propose on the boat. But she really just wants him to do it already and stop making her wait.

It’s probably her own fault, really. The way she’d taken ages to let him in, and then when he’d given her Liam’s ring, she’d probably looked about ready to run straight across the town line and never look back.

But she’s ready now.

She wants to be married to Killian Jones. She knows, now, that the feeling she’d had when she watched her brother get married has a name. It’s called jealousy, and she’s ready to stop feeling it. She wants to be married, too, not on the outside looking in on a happy couple with rings and on their way to starting a family.

Emma has thought about this a lot, and she’s decided that the best way to tell Killian that she’s ready is to show him. He’s given her a sentimental ring, bought her a freaking boat. He’s waited for her at every step of their relationship. So it’s time for Emma to pull off some big grand gesture or make a romantic speech. Or something.

The problem is that Killian seems to have an endless well of sentimental items and stories to give as romantic gifts, and Emma has none.

Until the house goes up for sale.

The house that she and David grew up in has changed a lot over the past fifteen years. The couple that bought it after their parents died apparently almost tore it down entirely, but decided on a simpler remodel. A paint job, a new fence, and a wraparound porch are the most obvious changes that Emma’s noticed over the years, but she has no idea what it looks like inside. She’s walking past it, as she does on her morning walks with Rascal, and she sees the For Sale sign out front, along with a small “OPEN HOUSE TODAY!” sign beside it.

It won’t hurt to look, Emma tells herself, so she texts David that she’ll be late to work -- or later than usual, really.

The inside is different. The shape is the same, all of the walls and doors exactly where she remembers them. But the colors are all off. The walls were all pale yellows and blues, with white trim, but now everything is a stale gray. Where the floorboards had been faded with time, now they’re stark black.

We’ll fix it up, Emma thinks. And then she stops the self-guided tour and freezes for a moment. She waits for the lead ball in her stomach to form, or for the stutter of her heartbeat that accompanies frightening thoughts about the future. But none of it comes.

“Excuse me,” she calls when she finds the realtor. He’s from a company called Ozman Realty from the next town over, so she doesn’t recognize him. “What’s the asking price on this house?”

“Two-hundred-thousand,” the man tells her. He smiles, but it’s hard and somehow almost… slimey. Emma doesn’t like it, but she doesn’t really have a choice in who’s selling the home she wants to buy. “I should tell you, we’ve already had an offer today, and the sign only went up this morning.”

“Dammit, David,” Emma grumbles “One moment, please.” She pulls her phone out and angrily dials her brother.

“Are you even going to bother coming in today?” he teases her.

“Are you trying to buy the old house out from under me?” She has no time for the teasing. She’s doing this, dammit.

“Wait, what?” David pauses. “Mom and Dad’s house is up for sale?”

“Yes, David! Keep up!” Emma yells into the phone. “Are you telling me you didn’t put this bid on it?”

“No, Emma, I had no idea.” He sounds sincere.

“Well… do you… I mean are you going to bid on it? Now that you know?” Emma runs a hand through her hair, finally letting her nerves catch up to her.

“No, Mary Margaret and I are uh… we’re building our own house, actually. We bought some property on the edge of town. We were hoping to keep it a surprise until, you know, there’s actually a house there.” David stops talking and Emma can picture him leaning forward on his desk, brows creasing together. “Are you going to buy the house, Emma?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” She bites her lip. “Or at least I’m going to try! Someone’s already put a bid on it, so I’ve gotta go.”

“You can use the inheritance.” David blurts out before she can hang up. “I used some of it to buy the property, but the rest is yours.”

When the Nolan twins had turned 18, they’d been shocked to learn that their parents had had a large amount of money set aside for them. They’d lived modestly, taken few family trips, so their parents must have spent all that time saving up without their children's knowledge. Emma had wanted to take a vacation immediately, somewhere warm and tropical and distinctly far away from Storybrooke just for a week, maybe two. But David had insisted that they save it.

“Mom and Dad would want us to use it for our futures, Emma, don’t you think?”

Reluctantly, Emma had agreed. But what was more ‘for our future’ than this house?

Still, she felt… wrong using so much of it.

“That’s our money, David. Not mine alone. How much did you use?” It’s way too early for this conversation -- Emma has only had one cup of coffee, courtesy of Killian. It’s not enough.

“I used fifty-thousand. There’s still a couple hundred thousand left. Seriously, Emma. Use it. I want you to. And if we need more down the line, we’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll think about it. See you soon.”

Emma wanders through the house, looking for the realtor again.

“I’ve got the full amount in my bank account. I’ll pay it up front. I want this house.”

She knows it’s not a good technique. You’re supposed to low-ball or pretend you’re not as interested as you are. But truthfully, Emma doesn’t care. She wants this fucking house.

The realtor looks thrown off by her forwardness, but he puts on his fake smile quickly.

“I’ll have to contact the buyer from this morning and give them a chance to counter,” he tells her.

Seriously?

“Yeah, sure, fine.”

He steps out of the room to make the call and Emma wanders through the living room, pointing out memories to Rascal.

“There was a dent in that wall from when David and I got into a wrestling match once. His head hit right below that window. He needed stitches.” Rascal sniffs the part of the wall she’s pointing to. “And over here--”

“Miss, uh, I didn’t catch your name,” the realtor calls.

“Emma No-- Emma Swan,” she tells him. Storybrooke is a small town, and while most of its inhabitants know her mother’s maiden name, it won’t be their first thought if word gets out that there’s a bid on the house. She just doesn’t want this to get back to Killian.

“Well, Miss Swan, the other bidder has backed down. We’ll just need you to get the money and sign some paperwork, and the house is yours. You skipped quite a few steps by having the money up front,” he jokes. “Why don’t we meet at the seafood restaurant I saw by the docks at 7 tonight and make everything official?”

“Why would we meet at a restaurant?” Emma asks suspiciously.

“Oh well… I was hoping we could…,” he stammers out.

“I don’t even know your name. And you’re asking me on a date?” She crosses her arms and arches an eyebrow. Rascal comes up beside her, sensing the tension.

The man, undeterred, simply holds out a hand.

“Walsh Ozman, of Ozman Realty,” he’s grinning, as if expecting Emma to be impressed.

“Emma Swan, sheriff and home buyer. As in, customer. As in, inappropriate to ask out.” She takes his hand and shakes it firmly, hammering her point home: I’m in charge, not you. For good measure, Rascal growls and stares at the realtor, unblinking.

Walsh clears his throat and takes a step back, eyeing both Emma and Rascal warily.

“Here’s my card. You can come by my office this evening.”

“Thanks.”

*****

Emma’s practically vibrating with excitement for the rest of the day. Creepy realtor aside, she’s bought her old house. For herself. For herself and Killian.

If this doesn’t show him she’s ready to move forward, nothing will.

When she gets home that night, brand new house keys in hand, Killian’s camped out in front of the TV holding a beer. It’s not unlike him to have a drink to unwind after work, but the fact that it’s a beer instead of a nice glass of rum makes Emma think that he’s been stewing on something all day, and he doesn’t want his anger to get the best of him. And drunk Killian is a bit more emotional than the sober version.

“Hey, babe,” Emma calls from the doorway. She begins the process of untying and removing her work shoes in favor of putting on her more comfortable sneakers. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” he answers, not even trying to convince her that it’s true. “Yours?” She hears his footsteps coming towards her.

“It was great, actually. You okay? You look…” Emma can’t quite put her finger on how he looks. Disappointed? Angry? Tired? A combination?

“Aye, I’m fine, love. I just… had a bit of a disappointment today.” He steps towards her, pulling her body flush against his. “I’m glad you’re home.”

She kisses him slowly, just for a moment or two, before pulling back. He looks down at her curiously.

“I wanna show you something,” she whispers. “Put your shoes on.”

“It’s nearly eight, Swan.” He seems to realize what an old man he sounds like, because he shakes his head. “I was just hoping we could stay in tonight.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Implicitly,” he answers automatically.

“Then put on your shoes.” She punctuates the sentence with a quick kiss on his cheek, scruff scratching at her lips.

She’s not sure how they figured out the logistics of getting into a car with two humans and two dogs and not a bit of thought. She opens the driver’s side door and both Rascal and Procella scramble in and hop in the back seat, lying more on top of each other than next to each other. They’ve done it since the first time they got into the same car, back when Emma and David had gotten the call about loose dogs at the park. It strikes Emma how long ago that was, how much things have changed, and her excitement is renewed.

Killian doesn’t complain on the drive over, despite his initial hesitation. Emma can tell he’s had a rough day, though she’s not sure why and she knows she should have asked. But… this is important and huge and hopefully it’ll make whatever it is that happened not even matter anymore.

She bites her lip as the niggling little voice in her head, the one that’s been quiet since the moment she kissed Killian’s cheek in the park on one of their first lunch dates, suddenly starts screaming inside of her head.

What if he thinks I’m crazy? What if he doesn’t want to move into the house? What if he isn’t ready? What if he’s not planning to propose, and I’ve done this huge gesture and he doesn’t get it? What if he wants to keep things the way they are? Or what if he takes one look at the huge house -- clearly meant for a family -- and runs straight out of town? What if it’s too much? What if--

“Swan, where are we going?” Killian’s voice jolts her back to reality. He’s quiet in the darkness, a softness to his voice that she can’t quite figure out.

“I bought something I want to show you.”

“Emma, did you--”

“We’re almost there,” she says, and she feels Killian staring at her. Her voice cracks at the end, and her knuckles are white on the steering wheel. What have I done?

If he leaves, she doesn’t know what she’ll do.

She pulls up to the curb across the street and climbs out without looking at him.

Before she even reaches the gate, he’s laughing. She can hear him start to chuckle, and then it grows into a full-on belly laugh.

Oh God, he thinks I’m crazy. Why did I--

“Swan, you bloody brilliant woman!” He’s right behind her now, grabbing her around the waist.

“You don’t even… what?” Emma is so very confused.

“You’re the buyer? I should have known.”

And then the pieces click into place.

“Were you the first bidder?” She turns around in his arms. He’s smiling so wide it nearly reaches both ears, and finally that loud voice in her head quiets down again. She smacks his chest once for good measure. “I was so angry!”

“How did you pay the whole thing up front?” He’s still laughing as he reaches up to brush a loose strand of hair away from her face.

“Inheritance,” Emma says simply. “Why were you trying to buy my house, Killan?”

“For you, of course.” His smile changes then, and his face turns serious. “I work with the man who lived here, Kris. He and his wife are adventuring around the country or something. They’ve been talking about it for weeks. So I knew the house was going up.” Killian shrugs. “I wanted to surprise you, but it seems you got me first.”

“They moved out last week, before it even went up,” Emma tells him, and he’s already nodding because he already knows. “So, we can go in. If you want.”

He smiles again, and she wonders briefly how she could have ever doubted him. Because of course he doesn’t think she’s crazy. Of course their minds were in the exact same place.

Soulmates, she thinks to herself.

They step inside the house, and Emma flips the lightswitch on. It’s still empty, of course, and for a moment, the space feels cavernous and huge. But then Rascal and Procella run out in front of her and start sniffing every corner, every inch of the baseboards. And it’s strange that something so simple eases Emma’s mind, but it does.

“I’m glad you brought me here, Swan,” Killian whispers from behind her. “I had big plans for this house, and I thought they’d all been dashed.” He kisses the skin just underneath her ear. “But now, hope is renewed.”

“Big plans?” Emma asks.

“Oh, aye. In fact, now seems as good a time as any, don’t you think?”

He moves out from behind her and she feels an immediate sense of loss when the warmth is gone. But then he’s in front of her, that same nervous look on his face that he’d had the first time he asked her to lunch.

Emma loves being right.

He gets down on one knee, and in a move that’s so natural that it seems rehearsed, Rascal and Procella come up on either side of him and sit patiently. There are six eyes staring at Emma and watching her start to cry.

“I feel like we’ve done a lot of things backwards, Swan. We met before I even knew I had a soulmate. I thought I’d be alone forever, adrift at sea without anyone for company. But then you and Rascal came along, and you brought me Procella. And then, by some miracle, you let me in. And you gave me something I never thought I would have: true love. And now, Emma Nolan, I have to ask you a very important question.” He pauses, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as well. “Will you marry me?”

He’s barely gotten the question out before she’s whispering yes. And then screaming it.

“Yes! Killian, yes.” And then they’re kissing, in the living room of their house, and it is, without a doubt, perfect.

[twen-nee6]

How Trump Changed My Dad

tw: racism & all the prejudices

Last weekend, I saw my father, and, for the first time in my life, I heard him say racist things about Chinese people. In fact, this was the first time I heard him say anything this openly racist at all, except against “reptilians who call themselves Jewish.”

This isn’t some story about us uniting after a long period of time and him being a racist. My dad has always been in my life, and I love him very much. This is a story about how he has changed since Trump became president.

This is pretty long, so get the rest under the cut!

TL;DR: My dad has had his worldview skewed so radically due to conspiracy theories that he thinks that everything Trump says is true, and that has become a seed for racist remarks and ideas that are in direct opposition to viewpoints he had even last year.

It is interesting, and tragic, to reflect upon what Trump’s presidency has done to my family-- or, well, I suppose, my father. Before I really begin to get into this story, I am in no way condoning is point of view in any sort of way or trying to make excuses for him, because he is a grown adult who can make his own decisions. That said, he is also incredibly gullible under the correct circumstances. Unfortunately, Trump has kind of become those “correct circumstances.”

Before I get completely into this, I’d like to give some backstory on who my father is, because I think that’s important to realizing how absolutely floored my sister and I were to hear him say racist shit about Chinese people.

My dad grew up in a Jehovah's Witness family. If you’re unfamiliar with that sect of Christianity, they are a cult. My grandfather was excommunicated from the church when my father was young, and my dad (and all his siblings and my grandmother and my grandfather’s parents and brothers-- you get it: the whole family) was forbidden with interacting with him. To interact with my grandfather-- my dad’s dad --was to meet the same fate. No Jehovah's Witness is allowed to talk to someone who was excommunicated.

Despite this absolutely bizarre-ass rule, children are allowed to communicate with these people, so long as they’re not a full part of the church. My dad and his siblings were just not able to speak with my grandfather because my grandmother (and the rest of the family) were not allowed to interact, not because they were fully a part of the church. Thankfully, my father avoided the ceremony that would make him a true Jehovah's Witness throughout his life, so I have been able to correspond with my family who are still a part of the cult due to this loophole. 

This loophole also made it possible for him to escape from an abusive situation with his step-father, and he moved in with my grandfather when he was thirteen.

I know this is exposition-heavy, but bear with me here. I want you guys to see the person I grew up with, not the guy that he is now, so you can understand why I am so confused and upset.

My dad is a fucking fantastic musician. He has so many good stories, but here are some highlights from his life:

* A close family friend who is a Native American taught him a lot about his culture. My dad likes to talk about how sacred nature is, and he also loves to talk about the very odd experience he had following the man’s meditation instructions. According to my father, he was teleported (in his mind) to a library where every book is the book of someone’s life. When the Librarian asked him if he wanted to read his book, he said no. This experience rattled him.

* He moved to the South Side of Chicago in the early 90s to chase his dream of music. He worked in a diner that was at an intersection where gang violence was common, and he lived even deeper south in the city than the diner. He recalls with horror what he saw, but he is quick to explain that there is a duality to people: people in gangs, he always likes to say, are just as human as the rest of us, and he always tells us he met “a kindness I never saw in anyone else,” in the people who came into his diner (especially the gang members).

* He also lived in Austin, Texas in the 90s, and played music with a band with an incredibly diverse background. He was on TV a few times (I imagine it was local, lol), and he loves to tell the story about the time that he ended up playing guitar at a Latinx club because he did a good job putting electricity into some guy’s house. He uses his story there to explain how to be humble-- he always tells us that everyone in the club was dancing to the salsa tune, then his dumbass had a guitar solo and he played the blues, which killed the vibe. “Always take in your surroundings.”

* When getting a tattoo, the tattoo artist mentioned in passing that a biker had paid her with his soul for a tattoo. My dad and his friend were drunk, and they bough the guy’s soul for $20 and planned to use it “to get big.” The next day, they were sitting at the table with this guy’s soul contract, and my dad said that something came over him-- “I knew that if I did what I wanted to do, I would get famous, but I also knew it wasn’t worth it.” He burned the contract. The karmatic repercussions of using some poor guy’s soul to become famous just isn’t worth it.

My father also taught me how to respect life. I lack empathy. I feel like I would have a much harder time with my life without my father’s patience in my earlier years. He taught me how to be socially appropriate in a way that wasn’t demeaning, unlike the rest of my family who berated me (and continue to do so) when I did something they viewed as wrong. One particular story sticks out:

When I was about nine or ten, we were camping with his side of the family. I caught a crawdad (crayfish for you non-Appalachian folk) out of the creek, and I was very curious what color it would turn if I boiled it. So, I did just that. 

I’m definitely not proud of that. 

My dad had always tried to explain to me the sanctity of life and how we shouldn’t just kill things prior to this, but that time he really seemed upset. He told me how disrespectful it was to the animal, and then told me to think about what it would be like to be boiled alive. He then told me I should at the very least eat the thing, which... I told my cousin to do because I am a picky eater.

That lesson definitely stuck with me more than, “Don’t kill spiders.” or, “Hunting for sport is wrong.”

Throughout my life, my father has been the level-headed one. He has been the one with useful life advice who actually knows how to have friends and talk to people. He has been the man I looked to to be socially appropriate and a “good person” because my mother has been chronically unable to keep any sort of friendly relationship for anyone longer than a year or two. She isn’t a very good social role model.

So, imagine my surprise last weekend hearing my dad talk about how much he hates the Chinese.

His basis? The time we went to California, and “they were way worse than the other drivers.”

I looked him dead in the eye and said, “Dad, everyone sucks at driving in California. It isn’t just Chinese people. White people can’t drive either.”

Now, I know he doesn’t hate Chinese people because of their driving. We went to California in 2004. He has never once mentioned a goddamn thing about Chinese people not being able to drive (or Chinese people in general regarding that trip), so it’s pretty fishy he would suddenly bring it up sixteen years later. 

This is especially odd since I’ve only ever heard him sing words of praise for Chinese immigrants, or, honestly, immigrants in general-- up until about a year ago, but we’ll get to that in a minute.

When my parents split-- and I know this may seem like another unnecessary deviation, but hold with me here --my dad’s obsession began. He moved in with his father, my grandfather, the man who hadn’t seen any of his family aside from my father and me for thirty years. My grandfather was a doomsday prepper. He owned something like 300 acres of land in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains down in what is known as a “Holler” here-- a small community of people who are very close to each other, live on the same road and are usually pretty friendly toward each other.

My grandfather also deeply believed in the corruption of the government, and how that would inevitably be the downfall of everything. While he wasn’t spouting anything about Hollow Earth or the sky actually being a projection, the man was distrustful of all things establishment. This kind of thought process definitely didn’t help my dad when he was going through a divorce, and I remember he really got into learning more about the 2012 Doomsday at the time.

To back up a bit, my parents have always been conspiracy theorists. My mom claims to have prophetic visions and that she is in contact with a Gray alien, which, yes, is probably just the schizophrenia, but my dad never questioned her and honestly, believed her. He was all about aliens and Area 51 and “Bush did 9/11″ when my parents were still together. He only got worse when he moved away, taking up the Doomsday stuff and digging deeper into 9/11, and then kept falling down this fucking abyss of a rabbit hole when he moved from my grandfather’s place into an apartment in the suburbs.

There, he didn’t have things to do after work. He didn’t need to attend to the horses. He didn’t have the hills to walk through. He had himself and oh dear god, man

The release of the first Assassin’s Creed was where the decline became noticeable. We bought the game, and the next time I saw him, he was telling me about the Knight’s Templar. As the years wore on, he only got worse. 

If you guys have seen the “Q Map,” that shit is all shit I can explain to you. Yes, I can tell you about the Draco-Reptilian Nazi Fleet, the Space War, and how Draco-Reptilian Nazis live in Hollow Earth. I can tell you how the Vatican relates back to the Knight’s Templar back to Moloch back to Egyptian Pharaohs back to Ishtar up to modern-day banks.

Look, I myself am gullible. I have the same kind of trait that makes me very paranoid and distrustful of people, especially authority.

My dad was spouting shit about “Kh****ian Jews” and how they were actually reptilian people (not real Jews!) who owned all the world’s banks and were trying to manipulate the populous into a One World Government, and, I’m sad to say, I believed it. Then, thank god I met my partner who shut down my bullshit really fast and has been a wonderful person to ground myself with.

(For those curious, my dad has asked for my partner’s bloodtype because they’re Jewish, and was visibly relieved when I told him it was B- instead of “an RH bloodtype” because that means that my partner is human... yeah.)

All that to say that I have an open mind. I’m willing to at least humor the idea of Nazis in Antarctica based on Admiral Byrd’s papers. Hell, I even humored my dad’s Flat Earth bullshit for a little bit, until I watched that Netflix documentary of Flat Earthers trying to prove the planet is flat, but only further proving it is round.  I’m totally willing to listen to alternate ideas, and I definitely find a lot of merit in many conspiracies.

This isn’t about aliens visiting Egypt or civilizations predating Sumeria, though, this is about my dad tripping on conservative conspiracy theorists and falling into a tailspin down the wrong fork in the trail.

This started with him listening to what he describes as “an underground conservative news channel.” He originally began being wary of the Democrats because he believed Hillary Clinton was a reptilian, but he originally was like, “Yeah, all politicians are these reptilians.” I honestly have no idea when that changed. The man didn’t even care all that much about politics until around the time of the 2016 election.

I’m assuming this is because Clinton was running, and he felt invested in not letting a reptilian become president? I swear, this man has a whole section of his brain dedicated to “Why The Cintons Are Bad,” and that only got worse as the 2016 stuff ramped up.

He started watching Alex Jones. I lived with him during this time, but I was going to college so I wasn’t home with him very often. I’d come home to the TV on Alex Jones practically foaming at the mouth every night and my dad asleep on the couch. Around this time, he started talking down to Democrats, which, hey, that’s fine, both parties in this country suck, and he honestly was interested in Bernie as a candidate.

He does still like Bernie, for the record. He even said this year that he wouldn’t mind Bernie as president.

The election rolled around; Trump got elected. Then, a lot of stuff happened.

* My dad was working for my uncle (his brother-in-law) and also renting from him. My uncle was barely paying him enough to live, so he decided to take his old job back.

* Shortly thereafter, my uncle sold the house my dad was living in. He didn’t even offer it to my dad. He fucking sold it under his nose. Not to mention, my dad was the one who put in all the flooring, bathrooms, wallpaper, etc into the house.

* My dad moved into a small farmhouse in the middle of a corn field. His old house was in a town, so he at least had interaction with other humans outside work. There are so few houses on the road he lives on that it doesn’t even have the ability to buy internet if he wanted to.

Living very much alone in the middle of a goddamn field has really impacted him.

My dad surrounds himself with what he believes to be unbiased news, but outright says are “underground conservative news outlets.” I mean, the majority of his time is spent listening to this fucking bullshit, playing old video games and jamming on the guitar.

Since the election, my dad has come to view Trump as an absolute force of good. He does admit that he does not like Trump as a person, and that he thinks that he’s honestly pretty gross, but he has been more-or-less brainwashed to believe that Trump is going to “save this country.”

Why?

* Trump is weeding out “the people the Clintons put in.”

* Trump is “going to make sure people who committed treason get what they deserve.” He points to John McCain and how Trump evidently tweeted something nine months before McCain died that eluded to the date?

* Those people who are committing treason are also part of a child trafficking ring and drink the blood of terrified children. I mean... maybe minus the blood drinking, but at least this one makes some sense, I guess.

* Trump is disbanding the Federal Reserve, which means that he is “taking the reptilians out of this country!” as well as putting the US dollar back onto the gold standard-- as if we have that much gold.

These were the original reasons why he liked Trump. He really thought, and continues to think, that the fucking orange in office has the best interest of America at heart just because he isn’t a politician. Anybody who ran for office who wasn’t a politician and got elected would have my dad’s praise, but it just happened to be Trump.

And what does that mean? It means my dad began by not agreeing with all Trump’s policies. It means my dad had a fucking brain, that he drew those conclusions himself with some aid of “”news”” (conspiracy) outlets.

But, because of the trust that he has put into this man, and the trust he has put into his “underground conservative news,” my father has allowed his perception of reality to become so incredibly skewed. For example:

* “Trump’s tweets are encoded by a quantum supercomputer to give news to the masses! Every misspelled word, random number and incorrectly capitalized letter means something, and it changes every time!”

* Dad says he doesn’t mind immigrants, but he constantly talks about how the people who want to get into America “aren’t actually struggling.” He pointed to something that happened in Mexico a little while ago and said that the people trying to get in weren’t starving, and he said that was all because they were a distraction hired by the Democrats to pull news from the trafficking of children over the border to contribute to the “adrenochrome market.” This is where some of his racist shit started.

* He believes all earthquakes in America in the last four years have been due to the Democrats “blowing up underground bunkers” to hide the fact that they are “conducing illegal human research.” He believes there is a whole world underground full of clones, and claims that ships docked on the West Coast exist there to help people that they take out of these underground cities. He also, of course, believes Trumpy-poo is the whole reason why “those poor people” are being liberated.

* According to him, there are Chinese tanks in the Amazon, and China is mounting an invasion on America. Believe it or not, this isn’t where he started talking shit about Chinese people.

* Trans* people do not exist. He also has become worryingly fixated on who he thinks is trans*? Literally any concert he sees on TV with a female lead singer becomes him pointing out “why that is actually a dude.” He’s also very fixated on “Michelle Obama is actually a man.” When we ask him why the hell that matters, he says it’s dishonest because “no man wants to be a woman.” Christ.

* On that note, he told me point-blank that women have more rights than men. I am AFAB. I fucking bluescreened.

* The BLM movement is just a way to deter from the election. The Democrats are busing in people to start riots and make cities shut down. “It isn’t a natural escalation of things to destroy your own neighborhood.” He also thinks the whole movement is shit beyond that because, “Everyone gets treated like shit by the police. I’ve been held down and beaten by a cop-- it’s just part of living in a city.” I... moving on

* “COVID-19 was created by the Chinese for the Democrats to skew the election.” He then points out all the sicknesses that broke out around other elections, like SARS and H1N1. This is where the sudden hatred of China comes from.

There is also just... so much more, but it is so incredibly tiring to try to think of all the things he tells me. Every time I look away to edit this anecdote, I remember more bullshit, so this is going to be the finalized list.

So, all-in-all, my dad went from being a very empathetic, compassionate man to having those traits used against him to believe that being racist is okay. My dad got sucked into politics because he was worried about the country being ran by reptilians, and now he believes that wearing a mask during a global pandemic is “unpatriotic” despite spending the majority of his life complaining about patriotism.

My sister and I try to set our dad straight. Any time he says something racist, we counter it the best we can, and it usually comes down to, “I’m not talking about all of them. I’m talking about the ones the Democrats paid off to do this stuff.” Unfortunately, there is no convincing him otherwise on that part, because if we try to show him anything regarding it, he deflects by saying that we got it from “a mainstream news source.”

I feel powerless as all hell because my dad has become something very distressing, and Trump / conspiracies are all he ever talks about.  I can only hope that his absolute bullshit “underground conservative news outlets” either get shut down so he has to look elsewhere or that he somehow finds some news source that he trusts that isn’t sucking Trump’s dick. I don’t know.