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ladyofstardust · 7 years

Text

Portions for Goblins

Word Count: 7k

Rating: T

Summary: In which Sarah finally puts on her big girl pants and Jareth learns the rules of the game.

Notes: Apartment-verse fic. Directly follows Gaping Head Wounds. I’m also posting them over at Ao3 in order if you’d prefer to read that way.

When you love somebody and bite your tongue all you get is a mouthful of blood - The Fruit Bats

Sarah paced her living room apartment. Occasionally muttering to herself in between sips of her drink. It had been weeks since her concussion and Jareth had kept to his word, staying in her life and dropping in as he normally did. But he’d pulled back massively. It was odd. Their conversations felt stilted and full of unsaid words. She didn’t like it, she wanted her Jareth back, the one who was a giant dork and who would happily share a blanket with her while they went through her DVD collection. The one who argued with her over historical events and who left empty tea mugs all over her apartment.

This was a Jareth who wouldn’t sit near her, and who declined her offers of tea. He came to board game nights and spent more time talking to her friends than to her. Previously she could barely get him to acknowledge Hoggle’s existence, now suddenly they were best friends.

Sarah’s friend Laurel was stretched out on her couch, flipping between the channels as Sarah wore a path in her hardwood. Laurel and Sarah had gone to college together and had remained as close as two women could be when one of them slept in a bed of lies.

That is to say, Sarah had been telling a lot (like, a lot ) of fabrications of her life to Laurel for many years and was presently struggling on how to explain to her friend her current problem. But she was nearing the end of her second glass of wine and Laurel was losing patience with Sarah’s “dramatics” as she liked to put it.

“Okay Sar, is this about Jareth?” Laurel finally said, muting the TV. “You only get this worked up when it’s about him.”

“Don’t phrase it like that,” Sarah muttered, continuing to pace. “But yes, somehow everything is always about him .”

“Oh I know why!” Laurel said raising her hand, as if in a mock question period. “It’s because your dumb ass is in love with him, has been for years, and those chickens sure as shit have come home to roost.”

When Sarah had brought Laurel in on her life, she’d simply told her Jareth was an old friend who she’d had a big falling out with years ago. They’d recently reconnected over mutual friends and had gotten close. She mentioned once that Jareth had a thing for her and left it at that. For some reason she’d never mentioned any of her other friends to Laurel. They never needed explanation because Sarah just avoided mentioning them referring to them by the catchall term “my friend”. Jareth, on the other hand, always seemed to require an explanation. Laurel thankfully still lived in Upper Nyack with her parents, so she’d always had a convenient excuse for why they’d never met.

“Hey lay off, I get enough of that from him and I don’t need it from you too.” Sarah said pointedly.

“Whatever you weirdo,” Laurel said, helping herself to her own glass of wine. “We both know you’re going to go there eventually. But you seem particularly agitated about him this time soooo maybe try the whole ‘tell your friend what has you acting like a crazy person’ thing? I hear it has its perks.”

“Well you’re not wrong, it is about Jareth,” she stalled.

“So you’ve said.”

“So this one is tricky because I think this one might fall on my shoulders and I don’t want to deal with that,” she said.

“Well no,” Laurel said, taking a sip. “If you wanted to deal with it I wouldn’t be sitting here drinking all your wine.”

“Oh nothing for it,” Sarah replied with a sigh, plopping herself down on top of Laurel’s feet at the end of her couch. “I messed up bad. Remember how I said I would absolutely never be getting involved with Jareth?”

“Let me guess,” Laurel replied rolling her eyes, “you got involved with Jareth.”

“I didn’t exactly get involved with him so much as I’ve been casually making out with him for…a while now.”

“Oh?” Laurel said with a raised brow.

“Yeah, oh. I intended it to happen just the once but then…goddammit that asshole knows how to kiss Laurel. It’s like he knew that I’d get addicted, which I’m not ruling out that he’s done something to make me want to kiss him like this, but whatever I’m here now I guess.”

“Okay, so you want to kiss him, he’s been chasing you for said kisses, so logical conclusion states that this is a good thing.”

“Well for starters you know why I don’t want to want to kiss him,” Sarah pointed out.

“Yeah but, you do,” she said with a shrug, as if the answer was of little consequence. “So let’s not waste time talking about what you want to want because that could take a while and I gotta go soon. Is your problem that you two are making out and you like it? Or that you want to know what to do about it? Either way you asked the wrong friend, I’m just gonna tell you to bang it out until you can’t walk straight and then you know, fall in love, get married and have a couple of ridiculously good looking kids.”

“Yeah this was helpful,” Sarah replied sarcastically, downing the last of her glass of wine. “No, weirdly that is not my problem. I mean, it is my problem but I’m handling it. My problem is that at my company New Years party, Jareth basically laid out in plain terms just how much he means to me and all I could do was stutter about liking things the way they were. So he says he wants to put some distance between us, which I handle … poorly, for some reason. I don’t see him for weeks and then he hears about my concussion, and immediately rushes to my bedside. At which point, high as a kite on painkillers, I tell him how much I want him in my life but I still keep a line between friendship and relationship and it’s a thin line, but the line is there. Like for god’s sake Laurel, he read me Persuasion until I fell asleep.”

“Dang dude,” Laurel replied.

“I know!” Sarah exclaimed. “But anyways he’s started coming around more since the head injury, and he’s being weird. Like won’t look me in the eyes, treats me like basically a stranger, is clearly spending time with me out of a misplaced sense of obligation, weird. Which I friggin’ hate . I just want things to go back to the way they were. Where we could just be friends and hang out and still be close.”

“Wow your ass is dumb,” Laurel said, giving Sarah a shove with her foot. “Like what the absolute dicks Sarah? How could you have possibly just said that to me and not heard a word of it?”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked confused.

“Well for starters, your waffling ass has been in a relationship with this dude for what sounds like a while now, whether you realize it or not.”

“I’m not dating Jareth!” Sarah protested.

“Ok, but see, you are .”

“Please explain how I’m dating him when he won’t even sit on the couch with me anymore.”

“Sure let’s go through this,” Laurel said sitting up straight. “First of all, you guys go on dates. That’s a pretty big one.”

“We went on one date and that was a joke,” Sarah interjected.

“Not true,” Laurel corrected. “You guys have been on plenty of dates whether you ‘count’ them or not. Just because you’re sitting on the couch watching the movie and not at the theatre doesn’t make it not a date. I can count the number of ‘proper’ dates Eddie and I have gone on with one hand,” Laurel said, in reference to her long term partner.

“Well we’re not sleeping together,” Sarah argued.

“What about your friend Julia - she’s asexual and she doesn’t sleep with her girlfriend,” Laurel pointed out. “Does that make their relationship not real?”

“Well that’s different,” Sarah said dismissively. “That’s how they choose to define their relationship. Jareth and I aren’t asexual, and besides, they do other stuff to feel close to one another.”

“Other stuff like say, cuddling up on the couch together? Or going on dates? Or taking care of one another when they’re sick? Or spending the holidays together?” Laurel teased.

“I see where you’re going with this, but your point is moot,” Sarah said with a sigh. “At the end of the day, Jareth and I are free to date other people and do not consider ourselves as dating let alone in a relationship. It doesn’t matter if you think the ‘facts add up’ or whatever because that is not how we define our relationship.”

“Okay, so then how would you define it? How would you explain Jareth to someone you’re on a first date with?” Laurel asked.

Sarah thought for a second, raking her hand through her hair. Laurel was being kind by avoiding pointing out that Sarah hadn’t really been on any dates in a while now. Definitely for as long as Jareth had been in the picture. There was Andrew sure, but he hadn’t lasted long and when Jareth had started to factor in, things went predictably screwy. There were a few questionable late night chats and meet-ups with one old friend of hers, but she’d avoided mentioning him to Jareth. To his credit, if Jareth was spying on her full-time (which, Sarah really wished someone else would acknowledge that this was not really a concern in other relationships), he’d never mentioned it or acted differently around her because of it.

Similarly, she had no idea if Jareth had anybody in his life that might fill a partner role or even if people in the Underground went on dates. Or if they just held giant bacchanals during the feasts and let those chips fall where they may. She’d never asked, and frankly didn’t really want to know either way. If he did have a woman in the Underground, then that made everything that was happening with her so much worse. It would confirm her worst suspicions; that he only ever thought of her as a prize to be won. A silly human girl that was no more than a flash in the pan of his life. Still, it seemed the easier path sometimes.

“Jareth is…foreign,” she said carefully to Laurel. “There are different standards of affection where he comes from. I don’t think he’d disappear if I had a serious relationship. Nor do I think he’d hold it against me in any way. I think he almost expects me to get bored of him, marry someone else, and settle down with 2.5 kids in the suburbs in a few years.”

“Well…that’s pretty sad,” Laurel said solemnly.

Sarah hadn’t really thought about it that way before. She didn’t really see it as sad so much as an inevitability of hers and Jareth’s incompatible lives. He had to know they had no long term potential and if he didn’t he was kidding himself. Sure she could stay with him for the rest of her life, but he would never get to spend his life with her. It was a huge reason why she wanted to stop before they could start.

“I wish I was the kind of girl who could just say to hell with it. But I don’t know how to be that person. There’s so much there Laurel, and if I go down this path, that’s it for me. I know it is. Jareth will be the last person I ever love if I let him in and I’m not sure I’m enough.”

“What fucking garbage - you can’t possibly think you’re not enough for him. The man clearly is enamoured with you. To the point where I’m mildly concerned he might be your stalker, but you seem to actually want him to be your stalker so I think both of you need just boatloads of therapy.”

“Well there’s a true statement if I ever heard one,” Sarah acknowledged. “I blame Linda frankly.”

“Oh cool are we at the point where we shit talk your mom? Cause I am always down to shit talk Linda,” Laurel said brightening. Laurel’s patience with Sarah’s mom ran out the day she graduated. Her dad had given her a handshake and a one armed hug, her mom had shown up completely coked up, and spitting vitriol about Sarah’s life like she was on commission. Sarah had cried and Laurel helped her sneak out of her own graduation party to drink wine in the park. It wasn’t the first time her mother had disappointed her, but it was the last time she let it cut so deep.

“Well it’s not like my dad and Karen have been shining examples either,” Sarah argued.

“They seem happy enough,” Laurel replied.

“Maybe,” Sarah said with a scoff. “But their entire life depresses me just to think about. Karen’s fulfillment is wrapped around my dad, Toby, and her home. She’s always gotta be better than her sister Irene, or better than the ladies of the PTA, or better than someone. She loves my dad and brother to the point of erasing her own identity. Did you know she was a paralegal? She had a career and a life and now she’s just someone’s wife and someone’s mother. That makes my skin crawl.”

“I think that’s needlessly harsh,” Laurel said. “I doubt you’ve ever asked Karen whether she’s happy. She seems to really like her life. Just because being ‘just a wife and mother’ makes you want to vom doesn’t mean that everyone has to have your viewpoint. Also that’s not what we’re talking about here.”

“I’m just saying that the people who are supposed to be my best example of a successful relationship features hollow suburban nonsense and a woman who ditches her family to play professional groupie.”

“Yeah well, we don’t get to pick our parents and you get the hand you’re dealt. Linda’s garbage, but your dad tries with you. That’s way more than most people can say. Also he paid for all your schooling which is way nicer than my parents.”

“Your parents actually love each other and are nice hardworking people though,” Sarah argued.

“Yeah but love doesn’t pay off my 65k debt, and don’t give me that ‘nice hardworking people’ shit princess. Your dad works his ass off for you and your brother and you could stand to be a little more grateful to him.”

“He paid because it was expected of him. I’d rather have a dad who I could talk to once in a while than one who just writes a check, and I hate when you call me Princess,” she complained.

“Listen Sarah, we could go real deep on your childhood here but most of your problems could be solved if you’d actually talk to Jareth properly. You can’t close your eyes and pretend the elephant in the room isn’t there, because then the elephants gonna stomp all over your shit,” Laurel said, grabbing her coat and shoes. “I gotta go but text me if you need anything. Next time when you’re not so stressed out I’m going to want details - details of the kissing variety.”

“Ugh,” Sarah said raking a hand down her face. “He kisses like someone who’s trying to fight me with his mouth, and it’s fucking great and I hate him.”

“Frankly I’m just impressed with your self-control,” Laurel said laughing.

“Yeah let’s just say it’s one of the harder parts of it.”

“Oh I’ll bet it is,” Laurel said wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, quickly closing the apartment door before the pillow Sarah threw could hit her.

“UGH,” Sarah shouted again, flopping backwards onto her couch again. “Whyyyy me?”

“It is safe to come out yet?” a familiar voice spoke from behind the couch.

“Oh no Hoggle!” Sarah cried, horrified to find her dwarf friend crouching behind the couch. “I thought I did a sweep before Laurel got here.”

“I just came by to get my hat,” he said, holding up his little cap. “I didn’t realize you had a guest an’ you locked the mirror so I just hid back here till she left. She sure is loud.”

“Yeah she can be,” Sarah said with a smile. “It’s just Laurel. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were here when I locked the mirror down. Did you hear everything we talked about?”

“Errrrrr,” Hoggle replied, running his hat through his hands.

“Gonna go with a yes then,” Sarah sighed. “Since you did hear, did you have any opinions on the current state of the union as it were? How do you feel about this new weirdness?”

“Er, well, it’s not really my place…” Hoggle said trailing off.

“Well then what about Jareth? Do you have any idea what’s going on there?”

Hoggle tried answering Sarah, opening his mouth to start before seeming to hesitate and then closing it again.

“Yes,” he finally said.

“Yes?” Sarah repeated.

“Yes.” Hoggle affirmed.

“Well yes what?!” Sarah cried, really starting to get at her wit’s end.

“Yes I know what he thinks about all this. There’s stuff I can’t tells ya, anything the king gives us a direct order for or things that would be considered secrets of the crown and all that.”

“I’m not a secret of the crown Hoggle,” she said not unkindly. “I’m a person who’s caught in between two worlds and there’s a man who’s doing his damnedest to pull me into his.”

Hoggle simply shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you Sarah, you know as well as I do that Jareth likes keeping things close to his chest.”

“No wait,” Sarah said, perking up. “I just have to ask the right questions. Jareth would only privilege the stuff he thought I might ask you guys about. Or that you’d want to tell me. But there will be loads of stuff he didn’t think was important to hide.”

“Oh no,” Hoggle said shaking his head. “I’m not getting bogged putting myself in the king’s romantic life, not again! No sir, not me, no kisses - no bog!”

“Please Hoggle!” Sarah begged. “I’m real desperate here.”

“What if I saids he was in love with ya Sarah?” Hoggle snapped. “What if I said as far as he’s concerned ya hung the moon. What then?”

“I don’t...then I’ll know.” Sarah said, lamely. “I don’t know, I hadn’t gotten that far yet.”

“Well maybe you ought to look where you’re going before you start walking,” Hoggle said gruffly.

“All I wanted,” she replied, flopping back onto her couch. “Was to meet a nice boy. Maybe we’d go to dinner, he’d buy me flowers, we’d meet each other’s families and then I could build something of my own. Something not filled with fame hungry mothers and workaholic fathers. But no, enter my byronic hero in a mass of glitter and broken electronics.”

“Yer full of bog Sarah,” Hoggle snapped and Sarah was slightly taken aback. Hoggle never snapped at her. “Ya had lots of chances to get rid of him and all ya did was open your door wider. Even now yer complaining to your friend about him not being around as much.”

“Well of course I want him,” she whined. “But Hoggle, if I date him that’ll be it for me. I won’t ever be able to meet that nice boy and have something of my own. I have to decide if I want him more than I want a normal life or the chance of a family.”

“He ain’t askin’ that,” Hoggle reminded her.

“Of course not,” she said waving him off. “But he doesn’t have to and he knows it. If he asks that of me he’s unreasonable and pushy and I’m right to be mad at him. If he asks that then suddenly he’s isolating me and rushing us to the finish line which is insane. So he won’t ask. Besides what could he possibly say? ‘Date me for a while and let’s see if this works out’ - no because Jareth wants me to say I’m his forever. Which as much as you guys may try and spin it, still works out to quite a while .”

“Then maybe ya should talk to him about it and not your friend Hoggle who was also perfectly happy living the life of a nice quiet gardener,” he scolded her. “S’not like I wanted any part of this story neither but here we are.”

“Oh yes,” Sarah repeated. “Here we are indeed.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, with Hoggle drinking his soda and Sarah fiddling with her empty wine glass in her hands. She knew she could ask Hoggle the Right Questions and he’d answer her. Not because he was bound like he was with Jareth, but because he was her friend. It felt wrong to put him in danger, however trivial it may seem to her, just for her own peace of mind. Besides he was right. It didn’t matter if Jareth wanted to listen to her or not, and it didn’t matter how many times he said he wasn’t asking for forever, they were still gonna have to have that Big Feelings Talk. She already knew if she flipped a coin which side she’d land on.

“Tell me Hoggle,” she finally said. “When Jareth asked you to come here today, did he explicitly tell you to spy on me or was he just hoping that’d be a nice side effect of hiding your hat behind my couch?”

“Err,” Hoggle stuttered. “Don’t know what yer talking about…”

“Bull,” Sarah said with a small smile. “Jareth sent you for reconnaissance because he is both predictable and dumb.”

Hoggle nervously twiddled his hat in his hands. “Please Sarah, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do it!”

“Oh please,” she said waving him off again. “Like I just didn’t try using you the same way. No we’re both dumpster fires and frankly should probably not date anyone because we’re not great at the whole ‘good person’ thing. Anyways it’s fine, tell Jareth whatever you like, I’m not going to ask you to keep my secrets too. Also he knows all this already so if anything I think this will just make him even more insane.”

“Yer both insane if ya ask me,” Hoggle grumbled. “Never heard of two people so in a twist bout likin’ each other.”

“If there’s one thing I know about Jareth and I, it’s that we don’t do anything by halves.”

“Ya know that at least,” he said rolling his eyes. “Can we go now?”

“Yeah, go on,” she sighed.

Hoggle hopped off her couch and headed back towards the mirror. Sarah was about to turn on Netflix and lose herself into the thousandth rewatch of the Jim and Pam’s casino night kiss, when Hoggle popped his head back out from around the corner.

“Well? Ya comin’?”

“Coming where?” Sarah asked, surprised.

“To see the king. Y’all are gonna sort this out and I’m gonna go hide in my hut before either one of ya can decide ya want my help again.”

“Ughhh fine,” she whined, shaking out her limbs. “Okay let’s do this before I lose my nerve.”

Sarah and Hoggle stepped effortlessly back through the mirror and into the Goblin King’s castle. Sarah knew the main floor of the castle reasonably well at this point. The layout was constantly changing of course, but the rooms seemed to stay more or less the same. The throne room was always the easiest to find as it was expected most visitors would pass through it. Therefore it was impossible to leave the castle without entering the throne room at least once. But oddly, Jareth wasn’t there this time. Normally when she came by the castle she barely had to walk three steps before glitterbutt showed up. They wandered around for a few minutes before landing in front of a big fancy looking mahogany door. Most of Jareth’s fixtures were pretty old and weather worn, so this was a bit of a departure.

“That’s his personal study,” Hoggle answered her unasked question. “I can’t go in there. Not allowed. Good luck to ya. I’m fryin’ up some fairy wings for dinner if ya want to join, you know, after.”

It was only months of practice that kept Sarah from wrinkling her nose at the idea of eating fairy wings. “No thanks Hoggle, I’ll leave you to it. Next time you come by I’ll have a whole plate of your favourite corndogs for you as thanks.”

Sarah waited until Hoggle was well out of sight before approaching the door. She normally just went where she pleased in the castle, but this was different, this was Jareth’s space. He may walk in and out of her place like it was an extension of his kingdom, but that didn’t mean she got to do the same for him. Sarah didn’t think of it as a double standard so much as she was trying to model appropriate guest behaviour.

She gave a sharp knock on the door and heard him call to come in.

Sarah pushed the door open carefully, unsure of what she’d find. She’d never been in any of Jareth’s private rooms before so for all she knew it was just going to look like the inside of a disco ball. She briefly considered whether she should have brought sunglasses before realizing how ridiculous that was. Namely because his room could not have been less sparkly.

It was, to Sarah’s surprise and happiness, just the perfect representation of Jareth himself. The room was somehow both warm and cold at the same time. There was a large desk facing away from an enormous bay window. The desk was made of the same wood as the door and looked like it had been around for it’s fair share of Kings and Queens if the dents and scratches that covered it were anything to go by. Everything on the desk was stacked neatly in piles, a sharp contrast to Sarah’s own work desk which could generously be considered cluttered. There was a series of quills lined up neatly on the front of the desk and Sarah made a note to buy him a jumbo pack of ballpoints next time she was at Office Depot.

Bookshelves lined the walls of the room, some only half full, others stuffed to the brim. There was a comically large fireplace on the left side of the room that was warmly blazing even as all the windows were thrown open to let the cold air in. There were two large squishy looking armchairs and small tables positioned next to them, both of which had stacks of books on them.

The walls were panelled wood, another departure from the usual stones. There were also a number of very fancy portraits of what Sarah assumed were important Underground figures at some point in time. Though none, she noted, of Jareth himself.

Sarah walked across the large threadbare carpet towards the desk and plopped herself down in one of the leather wingback chairs in front of it. Jareth hadn’t taken his eyes off of whatever he was pretending to read to acknowledge her presence, but Sarah knew it was just for dramatics. His eyes weren’t even moving to scan.

“Sarah,” he said, after a minute had passed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I came to talk to you,” she said with a shrug. Her palms were sweating like crazy and Sarah was trying to keep her leg from jiggling with nerves. The more relaxed she appeared the more relaxed she’d be.

“About anything in particular? Or couldn’t this wait until Jenga on Sunday?” Jareth said, not meeting her eyes. He never met her eyes anymore.

She’d already decided not to mention Hoggle. She didn’t want him getting in trouble and she was pretty sure outing him as Jareth’s spy would do that.

“I talked to my friend,” she said, running a hand through her hair. Already regretting not brushing it before coming. “Who told me to talk to you.”

“Which friend?” He said, finally laying his reading down atop a perfectly orderly pile.

“Laurel, we lived together in college for a while,” Sarah replied, getting up from the chair. She was too restless to sit anyways. “I’m going to ask you this point blank and I guess you don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to but it’d go a long way in terms of clearing some stuff up for me, so you’d do me a solid by giving me a simple yes or no here.”

“Sarah?” Jareth said, with a sigh. “Will you please tell me what has got you wearing a hole in my floor?”

Sarah realized she had started pacing again and gripped the back of her chair to keep from moving.

“Do you want to date me?” she finally just blurted out. “Like I mean, do you actually really and truly, want to do the thing where we are in a relationship, and go on dates, and slowly learn about each other to determine if we have long term compatibility?”

“I should think the answer to that was obvious by now,” he drawled.

“Well it’s not!” Sarah cried in frustration. “If you were a human - yeah it would be obvious! But you’re not and we have a history, and it’s all screwed up because I never know if you’re trying to start fresh or if this is just the long con to get me to say yes to that stupid final plea you made. I don’t know if this is real or just another game and I’m just miserable .”

To her relief, she hadn’t teared up when she said it. She was so worried about crying in front of Jareth, she never wanted him to know just how hard she warred with herself. She didn’t want to give him that power over her.

“This is truly upsetting you isn’t it?” He finally said.

“Well now who’s being obvious!”

Jareth stood up and walked in front of his desk. Sarah noticed that he wasn’t wearing shoes and she found the idea of Jareth taking off his shoes to cozy up and relax in his study quite charming.

“Sarah,” he said beginning to stroke her messy hair. “To answer your questions, yes. I want to date you. No, I do not see this as a continuation of my final gambit. That proposition was forfeit the moment you won. A good thing too, you would have been very unhappy had you accepted. It was not as above board as I might have made it seem at the time.”

“Well that part I know,” she said giving him a small smile. “But I do owe you a massive, big time apology. I took you as my date to that work thing partially because of the reasons I told you that night, but there is also a secret reason, which mostly comes down to I wanted to bring you. Because even while my head is screaming to run far and fast…I still want you. I still want to take you to work stuff and introduce you as my boyfriend. I still want to curl up under a blanket with you and I still want to kiss you.

“But!” She quickly added, before Jareth could get any ideas about said kissing, “I also want a house with it’s own library. I want to do things like take photography lessons, or go to improv classes. I want to learn to speak French, I want to live in a foreign country, I want to hang glide and skydive. I want a big fluffy dog named Gandalf and I want to write a book. I can’t do any of those things if I choose you. I’ll get other things, some things I don’t even know I want yet, but before I can commit to what you’re asking me…I have to decide I want you more than I want those things and I don’t know if that’s true right now.”

“I have never asked any of that of you,” he said seriously. “Except the dog. Please no more dogs.”

“The thing is Jareth, you don’t have to ask. It’s just kind of part and parcel with you. That’s not fair, but that’s the way it is. You have to live here and you have to be the King of the Goblins. It ties our hands a bit.”

Jareth walked over and plopped himself down in one of the armchairs by the fire. He beckoned her over and Sarah plopped down into the other chair beside him. Jareth shot her a look and Sarah sighed, walking over to his chair and shoved him over so she had room to sit without being entirely on his lap. She tucked her legs up under her and rested her head on Jareth’s shoulder while he patiently continued stroking her hair.

“It’s a self-defence thing,” she finally said quietly.

“I know,” he murmured.

“I know I can’t have both, but I just miss you all the time and I hate that,” she said, playing with a loose thread on his shirt.

“I’m happy to try and give you both,” he offered. “But I suspect it would not be quite what you’re looking for.”

She shrugged, just content to sit where they were right now. It had been so long since she’d been close to him like this. Sarah normally tried to avoid getting in his personal space this way or letting him in hers, but it hardly seemed to matter anymore.

“I could give it up,” he said, so quietly that Sarah wasn’t sure she heard him.

“Give what up?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow and looked around the room. Sarah took in a sharp breath. She hadn’t realized that was even an option.

“What…would that mean?” She said carefully.

“Well…I’d be banished. I would not be allowed in the Goblin Kingdom again and possibly the Underground as a whole. The High Court would rule on that. Odd are good as well that I’d be stripped of my magic…and as a result my immortality,” he said evenly, watching for her reaction.

“Why?” Sarah asked, genuinely confused. “I can kinda see not being allowed back in the Kingdom, but it’s not as though you did anything wrong.”

“It’s not that simple I’m afraid. If I remained Underground, I would always pose a threat to the current Goblin Monarch. There would always be those who were loyal to me first, and would see me as the true king. I wouldn’t be given the iron sentence, but they’d want to remove me as much as possible from the situation. As for the magic and immortality…well our kind don’t survive terribly well Aboveground for long periods anymore. There’s too much iron in your world and it would slowly kill me. Whether or not they’d bother to remove my immortality is debatable as they might simply decide to let nature take its course. I could easily live fifty years without showing any symptoms but that’s a relative drop in the bucket for us. My magic is tied to the Goblin Kingdom and the Labyrinth and while magic is considered a ‘right’ for my kind, it is similarly seen as a betrayal to surrender one’s throne. The High Court takes a dim view of those skirting what they consider the highest calling our kind can achieve. They might remove it for a hundred years as punishment but by that time the iron poisoning will have claimed me and I’d be dead so it wouldn’t really matter,” he finally finished.

Sarah was appalled. He’d presented the option so calmly and evenly that it was as if he was considering different options on a dinner menu. The mere idea that he’d considered such a drastic course of action for her was enough to rattle her.

“Like I’d ever let you do that,” she scoffed, until she noticed that he wasn’t kidding around. “Oh my god you’re serious?”

“Perfectly serious.”

“Why on earth would you ever do that?” She said, her shock coming through.

“In effect I’d be human,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We could live in that house with the library. We could live in Berlin even, I could teach you French, and you could take your photography classes and whatever this improv thing is. You would be able to write your book, you could even write your story here - with some detail changes, if you like.”

Sarah closed her eyes and sighed. For the first time she allowed herself to imagine just being with Jareth. She pictured waking up in their brightly lit bedroom with the big french doors, and rolling over to see him sleeping next to her. She imagined reading the paper with him at breakfast and discussing whether or not they had to go to the hardware store this weekend to replace the fixtures in the bathroom. She imagined their beautiful home somewhere in Tuscany or Prague or Stockholm. She’d never told him that the thing she wanted to write more than anything was about the Underground and her experiences with it, but he’d already known somehow. It was such a wonderful thought - she figured she could even talk him into a dog. Maybe two, one named Gandalf and one Dumbledore. They’d have a little spare room where all her friends could come hang out if they wanted and have the best board game collection in town. Every year they could host Christmas and her dad would come and chat with Jareth about the economy or something, and Karen would compliment her on her roast. Toby could study abroad in college and live with them for a semester. Even her mum would visit and spend the whole time hitting on Jareth, which she’d take in stride because she’d know her life was perfect now.

She opened her eyes. It was a beautiful dream, but it was just that, a dream.

“Jareth,” she said, patting his knee. “Just like I don’t know if I can give everything up for you, I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to give everything up for me. I’m not worth that.”

“Do not presume to tell me what is and is not worth it Sarah,” he said irritated. “I think you’ll find that you’re very much worth it to me.”

“I don’t want that either though,” she clarified. “I want us to be equals. I don’t want to constantly feel like I owe you the rest of my life just because you gave up yours for me. Just like I don’t want to come down here and make you feel like you owe me yours. Or that my whole life is you.”

“Then I’m not sure what you want,” he replied.

“Exactly,” she said, pleased he was finally beginning to understand. “This is hard, and complicated, and filled with the political rules of a world I don’t understand the first thing about. But it’s also not just about us. It’s also about Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ludo, and every single one of those soap eating goblins that is constantly terrorizing my home. We can’t just fuck off to Vienna or wherever and leave them in the lurch. They’re innocent bystanders in whatever this is and despite my first impressions, I have it on good authority you’re actually a great king. It would be selfish in the extreme for both of us to disregard that.”

“So what is it that you’re saying then?” Jareth asked, and Sarah heard the apprehension in his voice and saw the way he nervously strummed his fingers on the armrest. His tells were so obvious it was a wonder how she never noticed them before.

“I’m saying,” she said taking a deep breath. “That your decision to read that particular passage in Persuasion was a good one.”

“Half agony, half hope,” he said.

“Yes indeed,” she nodded. “Half agony, half hope, half Underground, half above, and half sitting in your lap. We are truly the Escher Room of relationships”

They continued to sit in silence like that for a little while. Sarah wasn’t quite ready to go home. She finally felt like they might be on the same page and he might understand why she wasn’t so ready to jump into his arms. Though one thing was still bothering her.

“Jareth?”

“Mmm?”

“Would I ever be able to be here? Full-time? Would the High Court even accept me as your … what? Consort? Friend? Pet?”

“Do not call yourself by such derogatory terms,” he grumbled. “If we are to be together you would be my queen. Nothing more nothing less.”

“But would I? I mean, I’m a human and your High Court doesn’t sound much better than my government at the moment.”

“Quite,” he replied, mouth tightening into a thin line. “If I were anyone but the King yes, we could have a problem. But I am so there is not. I rule my own realm and I am judge and jury for the affairs therein. Kings and Queens have taken humans as their consorts or co-rulers for many, many generations now. There are still those who are quite prejudiced toward humans, and the idea of marrying one sends them into fits about purity, but I try not to spend time associating with those types outside of needs must.”

“Okay just checking,” she said, leaning her head back down on his shoulder.

“Sarah if I am King, then you would be queen,” he repeated.

“But could we swim like dolphins could swim?” she said with a grin.

“I…suppose? I could talk to the Undersea…” he said, confused.

“No, doofus it’s a David Bowie song,” she said, playfully poking him in the ribs. “He’s next up on your required listening sheesh.”

“Oh yes I’ve heard a few of his records and I don’t much care for him,” Jareth replied, wrinkling his nose. “Too much going on for my taste.”

“Oh boy, that sure is a mighty fine black pot you got there in that glass house, sure would be a shame if someone were to throw a stone through it,” she said, with a teasing drawl.

“Curious then that rather large rock you have in your hand precious,” he said with a smirk.

“All the better to bring that home crashing down,” she shrugged. “It’s kind of my thing you know.”

“Yes well, ask Hoggle sometime about the rebuilding of the Goblin City post Sarah Williams invasion, I’m sure he’ll have quite the tirade for you about never doing that again.”

“You remembered his name!” Sarah exclaimed, delighted. “You never remember his name!”

“Of course I do,” Jareth waved her off. “I know all my subjects names.”

“Liar,” she hissed, giving him another sharp poke in the ribs.

“It’s hardly my fault if they don’t remember their own name,” he replied, unconcerned. “But he seems to have picked it up after spending a bit more time in my presence.”

“Yes, it would appear he has,” she smiled. “Thank you Jareth.”

“For what?”

“Just for being there. I know I don’t have a solution for us yet but I’m working on it. Also please note the use of us in that sentence. But I know now that I need you in my life just as much, if not more, than any of my other friends. As aggravating and infuriating as you are, you always make me feel…home and it’s been a long time since I had one of those,” she said, and she realized as she spoke it how true it was. Her apartment hadn’t felt right since he’d stopped coming in and messing everything up. There wasn’t the same amount of glitter wedged between the floorboards, and nobody had left piles of dirty dishes in her sink or stole her highlighter in ages.

“Right, come here,” he said, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her fully into his lap. “Tell me not to kiss you.”

“Don’t kiss me,” she said quickly, feeling the words leave her mouth. But then she felt her hands cupping his face. Letting her thumb lightly graze the hollowness of his cheeks. It was all of it at once, the seeing of his soft smile, the smell of him, and then him kissing her - in that truly crushing sort of way. Where the feeling of his lips on hers was nothing compared to the way her heart clenched. As if it was trying to hold so tightly to that last shred of resistance that it ached. An ache that spread through her body and settled right in her core. If her breathing was haggard, it was because so much energy was being devoted to not responding in all the ways her body wanted to respond. The flush was from trying keep herself from letting her wants eclipse her needs. Though she also couldn’t withdraw. Push him away? She’d never known how, not really. At least never intentionally. No, she knew better, she said better.

But what she did was kiss back.

Their last kiss had been public, new year’s eve in front of the rest of her office. It barely counted as a kiss. Sure Jareth never did half a kiss, and even his laziest efforts could still be considered knee weakening. But there was something about the way he kissed her when he knew that he could take his time.

She knew that it would always be that quick. Like it was the most natural and easy thing in the world to be here, curled up in the Goblin King’s lap, kissing him like it was nothing. One moment of weakness and recklessness and that was all it took. Hoggle had it right. She hadn’t walked, she hadn’t run, she’d jumped. She just hoped the fall wouldn’t kill her.

#labyrinth #labyrinth has ruined me #my ownsome #fanfiction #apartmentverse #sarah was basically raised by wolves and boy if there aren't some spiders in there #jareth is...the same #also sarah is still working on that whole taking things for granted thing #but really wishes her friend wouldn't equate money with love because that kind of thing fucked her up for a long time #and frankly it's the only path she's ever seen her mother take so it doesn't make her feel great overal #and if you think she's being a bit hypocritical later when she imagines her dream life you'd be right!#but it's different because it's her you see as every 20something ever has justified to themselves #sarah's self-awareness only goes so far #sidenote i have like a piece in this story that is set probably about a year or so into their actual relationship that is like 20k #and i kinda want to post it now?#but also kinda feel i need to finish the stories that come before it first #idk thoughts anyone?

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 18, second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Hey OP where’s the funny header gif for this post? Sorry, it was murdered by an angst demon and the framing of these shots.

My Found Family Came to Find Me

Continuing our flashback from last time, we see Baby Wei Ying up a tree, refusing to come down because he's afraid there are dogs. Eventually he falls out of the tree, like a dumbass a child, and Yanli tries but fails to catch him.

Unlike his grownup counterpart, Baby Wei Ying doesn't pretend he's unhurt when he is hurt. I'd like to put the change at Yu Ziyuan's door, but actually he admits to being hurt during his Gusu summer - he mimics Lan Zhan's stoicism when they're getting beaten, but it doesn't come naturally to him, and he whines a lot afterwards.

By the time of the Animatronic Dog incident, however, he's laughing off obvious injuries that have secret trauma behind them. By the time he comes back, coreless, from the burial mounds, he won't confide in anyone about his hurts any more, except possibly Wen Qing.

Yanli carries Wei Ying, in a sequence that will be echoed much later in his life when Lan Zhan carries him (gifset here). While they head back, she tells him that Jiang Cheng has a bad temper and to ignore whatever mean things he says. This will also be echoed in the future, when Wei Wuxian says it to Lan Zhan after their argument with Jiang Cheng in the shrine.

Yanli also explains that Jiang Cheng loved his dogs and that he's been very sad since Jiang Fengmian sent them away, demonstrating once again that Jiang Fengmian is a terrible father. Yanli says that Jiang Cheng will be happy to have a friend with him, though. This kind of makes Wei Wuxian's role in Jiang Cheng's life "replacement dog."

Jiang Cheng, after getting over this particular snit, got worried about Wei Wuxian and woke up Yanli to find him, and then went wandering around in the dark like a dumbass a child, and is banged up and crying when the other two find him. Yanli encourages him to apologize to Wei Wuxian and he does, which will not happen again until the very end of the show.

They all smile and laugh together, as Wei Ying looks to Yanli to guide him through the insanity that his life has suddenly become.

(more behind the cut!)

They head back to Lotus Pier in a sweet montage of walking and smiling together, with Jiang Cheng carrying the world's most beautiful candle holder with the world's most wind-resistant candle in it, to light their way back. Back in the present day for a brief moment, Jiang Cheng pretends to sleep and listens to his sister insisting that the three of them should always stay together, while a single tear rolls down the side of his face.

Soup is Love, Chapter 1 of 1000

Then we head to the past again. In Jiang Cheng & Wei Ying's now-shared room, Wei Ying sits on the bed trying to figure out how to deal with his grumpy new roommate.

Wei Ying is unsure what to do when confronted with pajama game this strong. Tiny Jiang Cheng is already a fashion king.

Then he tells Jiang Cheng he's not going to narc him out to the clan leader, since it was his own fault that he hurt his leg. This is all Jiang Cheng needs to hear to decide Wei Ying is all right, and he says that he will help Wei Ying chase away dogs in the future. In fact, Wei Wuxian will protect Jiang Cheng from punishment basically forever, while Jiang Cheng will continue to threaten Wei Wuxian with dogs...forever.

They shake hands on their new understanding and then jump up and down laughing, Wei Ying's leg being all better now, apparently. When Yanli arrives (carrying a tray of...can you guess? I'll let you guess), they stop jumping. Wei Ying dives in to give Jiang Cheng a little tickle/embrace in an adorable moment that would have me saying "oh, my ovaries!" if I hadn't surgically sent my ovaries to hell a few years ago.

Yanli introduces Wei Ying to the emotional and gustatorial miracle that is her lotus and ribs soup. He hesitates a long time before tucking in because he's so unused to being fed.

Consent? I Don’t Even Know Her

The flashback wraps up with Yanli conked out on the table from the drugs in the incense burner, while Wei Wuxian, who is somehow unaffected despite sitting almost as close to the smoke as she was, checks on her. Jiang Cheng and his Uggs period-appropriate sock thingies get out of bed to come stand with Wei Wuxian, and have feelings about sending Yanli away after she JUST said she doesn't want to be parted from them.

Wei Wuxian: If she didn't want us to do this, she shouldn't have signed that blanket consent-to-medical-treatment form. Jiang Cheng: Wen Qing made me sign one of those plus a durable power of attorney, is that bad?

This episode is all about people overriding each others' agency and making massively important decisions without the consent of the people who will be affected. But in a feudal context, it's not a violation, no matter how it feels to the person being controlled. In feudal life, your body belongs to your lord -- your sect leader, in the world of CQL. Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng's choices are overridden by their clan leader's final command to Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian's core is arguably Jiang Fengmian's property--Wei Wuxian certainly sees it that way, just as his hand was Yu Ziyuan's to take if she wished.

The brothers tenderly tuck Yanli into bed in the rolly cart and hand her off to Song Lan. They talk about how important it is to get her to Lanling and that she's probably going to be mad, as they thank Song Lan for helping them.

Yanli listens while she sleeps and, in what is becoming a trademark Jiang move, lets a single tear roll down the side of her face. Jiang Cheng points out that Yanli never gets mad at Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian is like, true dat.

How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

Song Lan is always so emotional about every damn thing, I love him. Here he's like OH GOD NO DON'T FORMALLY THANK ME! STOP!!!

Then he starts to ask Wei Wuxian to pass a message to Song Xingchen for him, but then decides not to say anything, making it super obvious that they fought and aren't together.

Wei Wuxian reacts to this with confusion and distress, probably because he doesn't want to imagine ever having a breakup with his own soulmate. Which he soon will be having. But possibly he's just upset that his OTP broke up.

After Song Lan takes off, Jiang Cheng gives Wen Qing a rude & perfunctory thank-you bow, turning away before she can return it. Wei Wuxian tells her not to take it to heart - basically everyone who deals with Jiang Cheng gets a version of the "ignore what he says" speech. She says she understands and that in his place she would have behaved worse, which is so totally not true.

Then she asks Wei Wuxian if he's sure about the core transfer (not in so many words, because the script is being kind of being vague about it, without actually hiding what's happening). His reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.

Then he and Jiang Cheng walk off, with Jiang Cheng giving us a rear view that had me googling Wang Zhuocheng's fashion shoots to determine if that wagon he's draggin’ is really as delightful as this belt makes it look. Alas, there is not a wealth of photographic evidence for this research, as compared to, for example, photos of Xiao Zhan's outstanding ass.

Wen Qing and Wen Ning see them off, with Wen Qing wishing they valued their lives more. Although, what she and Wen Ning are doing is massive treason, so their lives will be pretty much forfeit if they're caught, so...

The Sunshot Campaign of Like 60 Dudes

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng walk up the mountain for the whole beginning of the Sunshot campaign, which...okay. Maybe it's like Dunkirk or The Witcher where they intercut stuff that is happening in different timeframes, which is one of my least favorite new film style thingies.

You know, for a guy Wei Wuxian constantly calls "peacock," Jin Ziyuan really doesn't wear a lot of adornment; just some subtle metalwork on his belt with no dangly bits at all, and a single reasonably-sized hair crown. Compared to the extremely fancy Lan Wangji he's almost plain. We already know that Wei Wuxian is a massive hypocrite when it comes to his idea of a perfect boy, however.

So, this is the Lanling Jin army, which consists of literally 60 guys, including the ones on the stairs and Jin Zixuan and Douchebag Dad. How are they going to fight a war with this tiny group? Why do they have such a big plaza? Hasn't anybody on this production learned CGI cloning?

That’s better.

Nie Mingjue and his best bitch Baxia make quick work of the 4 Wen guys who were assigned to hold the Unclean Realm.

Hello, Daddy Da-Ge!

Squeeee, it's Lan Wangji! He's taking back Cloud Recesses! Ooooohhh we've missed you Lan Wangji.

Look guys he's here! Look how beautiful he is. He's looking at the gate of cloud recesses and thinking thoughts that Lan Xichen or Wei Wuxian could probably see in his bewitching eyes if they were here to see him, which they aren't. But at least he is here!

....and now he's gone again. *cries*

Hares On The Mountains

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian continue roaming prettily around this pretty mountainside. The locations in this show are such eye candy.

Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains If I was a young lass I’d soon go a hunting

Jiang Cheng starts to have doubts about the whole Baoshan Sanren thing. Wei Wuxian's reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.

Then we have just the tenderest blindfolding scene, (more gifs here), which is fodder for your ChengXian dreams, if you have those.

Here's a good place for a sidebar about what is and isn't incest. Whee! In the CDrama context, relationships tend to be more clearly defined than in western media. The mechanism of confession & acceptance means that people either are or are not in a romantic relationship, with few grey areas. So a character can literally say "we grew up as brother and sister, but now we are dating" and when someone looks startled they just say "there's no blood relation" and everyone is like "cool cool" and that's the new definition of the relationship.

For a strong example of this, the extremely wonderful Go Ahead is about a contemporary family in which a girl and two boys, who are not blood relatives, are all raised together, and call each other brother and sister. When they become adults, they and everyone around them expect the girl (now a woman) to marry one of the two men who have been her brothers, while whichever one she doesn't choose will carry on as her sibling. It's treated as the most natural, logical thing in the world; the only question is whether she wants to make that transition, and with whom.

Looked at through this lens, Wei Wuxian's relationships with his adoptive siblings have just as much potential to turn into romances as his relationships with his friends do, and there's nothing creepy about it. As such you can expect my meta to always get into ChengXian moments without treating it as a wrong or forbidden love. Hopeless, of course, because Jiang Cheng is such a prick the power of WangXian is stronger, but that's a different matter.

What is wrong is wearing this fantastic hat & veil combination when the most fashionable person on the mountain is blindfolded and can't see it.

In the course of this blindfolded encounter with Wen Qing, Jiang Cheng gets to kneel before a powerful woman, be led along by a length of silk that's placed in his hand, and then knocked the fuck out and operated on. He'll wake up in a hotel room in a tub full of ice with "we took your kidney" written on the mirror in lipstick, and he'll love every minute of it.

Soundtrack: 1. Still Fighting it, by Ben Folds 2. Hares on the Mountain, by Steeleye Span

Writing Prompt: The NEXT time somebody blindfolds Jiang Cheng

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #chengxian #cql #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs

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vaguelyominouscoconuts · 3 years

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When the Stars Collide

Laying comfortably on a blanket, Lina stared at the night sky. It was one of the rare nights that it wasn’t cloudy enough to obstruct the view. Not only that, but the power was out across the entire city. Lina planned to make full use of this opportunity. Breathtaking blues and purples swirled in her vision. Reflected in her eyes was a universe of twinkling stars, each one burning almost as passionately as she was. This was Lina’s favourite activity. Gazing into the vast expanse of open space, tracing constellations with her finger, she felt at peace. Lina was lost in her thoughts when a call came from inside.

“Madrina!” Cathy called, sticking her head out the door. “It’s really late. Aren’t you going to come to bed?”

“Wow,” Lina replied dramatically. “You? Telling someone to go to bed? I never thought I’d see the day!”

Cathy rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her face. “Ha ha, I’m a hypocrite. I know. Will you at least just come inside? It’s freezing out there.”

“Hmm.” Catalina pretended to thing for a moment. “No.”

“If you get sick, I won’t help you hide it from Jane-“

“NO.” Jane could be a bit… overbearing, to put it lightly, when one of the others was sick. The sickness she had contracted that led to her death in her first life resulted in her being extremely serious about health. Lina did NOT want to deal with a worried Jane. In fact, the only thing worse was angry Jane. “I’m coming!”

With a smug look on her face, Cathy watched as Lina neatly folded the blanket she had been laying on and tucked it under her arm. As she walked inside, Cathy handed her a flashlight. “We don’t want to waste the battery on our phones. Just in case.” Cathy said when Lina raised an eyebrow.

As she walked to put the blanket in the wash, Lina could hear muffled giggles emanating from the living room. After dealing with the blanket, she went to investigate. Using her flashlight to scan the room, Lina came across a large mass of blankets and pillows. The laughs were very clearly coming from underneath. She raised one of the blankets and stuck her light inside the makeshift cave, only to be met with a yelp of

“Hey! Are you trying to blind me?” Kat was rubbing her eyes. With her were Jane, Anne, and Anna, all sitting in a circle.

“Is this… is this a blanket fort?” Lina asked.

“Well duh.” Replied Kat. “What else are you supposed to do during a power outage?”

“We are grown adults.” Lina exclaimed, “This is not something adults do.”

“Uh, yeah it is” refuted Anna. “Why don’t you come in here with us? We’re seeing who tells the best stories!”

“I don’t know.” Lina said. “I kind of feel like going to bed.” As the queens under the blankets let out noises of protest, Cathy came up beside her.

“So, I may or may not have actually asked you to come inside so that you would hang out in the fort with us.”

Lina shook her head and smiled. Threatening her with Jane just to get her to hang out? She was weirdly proud.

“Alright” Lina relented. “you win. I’ll come inside your childish fort.” Lina entered the cave, Cathy behind her, and sat down with the other queens. She had to admit that it was actually quite cozy. Suddenly, Lina became aware of the fact that everyone was looking at her.

“…What?” she asked.

“Tell a story.” Jane said.

“Why me?”

“The rest of us have already gone.”

Anne nodded. “Yeah. I feel bad that you have to go after me. My story was amazing. I don’t know how you could ever compete with it!”

With a smile on her face, Lina accepted the challenge. “Keep dreaming, Bo-loser. We both know your stories don’t hold a candle to mine!” Lina thought for a moment about what story she should tell, when suddenly it hit her.

~~~~~~~~~~

She began to speak, her words painting a beautiful image of stargazing in Spain with her mother. She detailed the way the sky looked was so compelling that the others swore they could see it in front of them. As she spoke, Lina had a far away look in her eyes. She was back in Spain, lying in the gardens with her mother, watching streaks of light shoot across the sky. It looked almost as if the streaks of fire were being thrown from heaven.

“Look, Catalina.” her mother had said. “Do you see that group of stars? The one the lights seem to be coming from? That is the constellation the Greeks called Leo.”

“Leo? As in lion?” Catalina turned to her mother, and then looked back at the sky. “Mother, that does not look like a lion.”

Her mother smiled. “I know, mi niña. None of the constellations look like what they are supposed to. You just have to use your imagination.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Lina took in all the other queens enraptured expressions.

“We never saw those lights again. Knowing what I know now, I wonder if they were comets. I would love to see them again.”

“Well who knows?” Cathy said. “Maybe they’re the type of comets that come back every year?”

“Cathy’s right.” added Jane. “Why don’t you gloogloo it?”

“Google, Jane. Not gloogloo.” Anne said. Laughter filled the fort once again.

“Yes, I will gloogloo it.” Joked Lina. “Perhaps I’ll actually get to see it again! That would be amazing.”

As the queens continued to chat, the lights spluttered back to life. They all looked at each other and came to a silent agreement. I was way to comfortable in there for them to go to bed. And so they all stayed. In the morning they would complain about stiff necks and sore backs, but in that moment they were content to just stay there in each others arms.

~~~~~~~~~~

A week later and Lina was counting down the days until the Leonid meteor shower returned. Lina had had trouble at first figuring out what specific shower it had been, and then she remembered a detail that made it all clear. The lights streaking through the sky all those centuries ago had been coming from the constellation Leo. Now she could find out when they would come back. Through her research she had found that the Leonids only happened once every 33 years. It was a very good thing she had looked it up when she did, or she might have missed it.

5 days to go. Lina could barely contain her excitement. 4 days. She would finally see the lights again. 3,2…

Shit.

SHIT.

The ONE DAY Lina needed the weather forecast to be right. It was supposed to be clear tonight. Why was it cloudy? How was she going to see the meteor shower? Lina was crushed. She put on a smile for the sake of the others, but on the inside she was devastated. After lunch, Lina excused herself to her room.

“Okay.” Anna said once she was out of earshot. “Something is obviously wrong with Lina.” The other queens nodded.

“Could it be that she’s not feeling well?” suggested Jane, her eyes widening.

Cathy shook her head. “I don’t think so. Usually when she feels sick, she doesn’t come out of her room at all. But she’s been with us all day.” Jane relaxed a little at that.

“Did we forget her birthday or something?” Anne asked, brows scrunched in thought.

“Anne. Her birthday is in December. It’s August, you dumbass!” Anna playfully smacked Anne on the side of the head.

Throughout this whole conversation, Kat had been strangely quiet. She was running through every conversation they had had in the last week in her head. What could possibly have happened to make the great Catalina de Aragon this upset? As she was lost in thought, she looked out the window. It was a gloomy day, and a depressing grey haze seemed to cover everything. A thick layer of clouds covered the sky.

A thick layer of clouds.

Clouds.

“Guys, I think I’ve got it” Kat chimed in. All the eyes at the table turned to her. “You remember that time the power was out, and we were telling stories under the fort?” Everyone nodded. “Okay, well you remember how she told us about that meteor shower she wanted to see?” More nods. “I think today was the day. But look how cloudy it is. She won’t be able to see shit tonight. That must be why she’s so sad.”

Realization settled across the table. This thing that Lina had wanted to see for the past 500 years, she was going to miss because of some bad weather. Of course she was feeling down.

Knowing what was wrong, the queens’ focus shifted to trying to find a solution. There weren’t many ideas. It wasn’t like they could get a huge leaf blower and blow away the clouds. The queens mulled over the issue for quite a while before Jane raised her hand.

“Alright, it’s cloudy here, but could it be clear somewhere else? Couldn’t we just drive to a place where there aren’t any clouds?”

“Janey, you’re a genius!” praised Cathy. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“So our mission is to find a place where there are no clouds.” Commanded Jane. “It shouldn’t be more than a couple hours away so that we can get there before nightfall. Everyone understand?” The queens nodded. Everyone pulled out their phones and began furiously typing, trying to find a place they could take Lina.

~~~~~~~~~~

Lina was sat on her windowsill, forlornly gazing outside. She shouldn’t feel this bad about missing a simple meteor shower. So what if she’d probably never get to see it again? It wasn’t something to get worked up over. As she stewed in her negative thoughts, there was a soft rap at the door.

“Come in.” Lina called.

In strolled Cathy, looking slightly hesitant. “So, madrina, we want to take a little drive. We’re going somewhere I think you’ll like.”

“I don’t know, mija. I’m not really feeling up to going out today.” Lina replied.

“But the place we’re going is going to help you feel better! Don’t give me that look, it’s obvious you’ve been sad all day. So will you please come with us? Please? We won’t go without you.” Cathy gave the best puppy face she could muster.

Lina sighed. She really did not feel like going anywhere, but it was obvious that Cathy was worried about her. She would go, just to ease Cathy’s concerns.

“Alright Cathy. You win.”

Cathy pumped a fist in the air. “Yes! Grab a coat and meet us in the car.”

Lina did as she was told, picking a gold jacket from her closet before heading out to the van. Jane was sat in the driver’s seat, with Anna beside her. Kat was sat in the middle, and Anne and Cathy were at the back. Lina took her seat beside Kat and buckled up.

“So,” she began, “is anyone going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope!” said Anne, popping the p. “You’ll just have to wait and see!” Lina let out a deep groan, but ultimately accepted her fate.

~~~~~~~~~

They drove for longer than Lina would have liked. She did not enjoy road trips. When the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, the car came to a stop.

“You wait in here while we set everything up.” Ordered Jane. Lina was about to protest when Jane raised an eyebrow. She swallowed her objections. The other queens left the car. Lina sat bouncing her leg until Cathy and Anna came to retrieve her.

“Close your eyes. We won’t let you fall.” Promised Cathy.

“Yeah!” Anna laughed That’s why Anne didn’t come to get you. She probably would have tripped you or something.”

Lina complied with their demands, shutting her eyes and allowing them to lead her to… wherever it is they were going. She stumbled a couple of times, but the girls holding her arms always helped her steady herself. Eventually, they stopped walking.

“Alright,” said Cathy, “open our eyes.”

Lina allowed her eyes to crack open and let out a gasp. There were blankets layed out everywhere, and a campfire emitting warm light. Best of all, there were stars. More stars than she ever could have seen in the city, shining brighter and clearer than she had seen since she was a child. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“I… you did this all for me?” The other queens nodded proudly.

“We remembered that you wanted to see the meteor shower, so we brought you out her to get a better view!” exclaimed Kat.

“We know it’s not the same as being with your mother, but we hope this helps at least a little.” Added Jane.

Lina was speechless. She couldn’t believe they had gone through all this trouble for her. She let out a choked “thank you”, and tears spilled down her face. Suddenly she was being tackled my five sets of arms, all trapping her in a rib crushing hug. Lina allowed herself to melt into the embrace of the queens, her family. Once she had calmed down, they all moved to lay down on the blankets by the fire.

They lay cuddled together, watching streaks of light cut across the sky.

#...so i did another thing #i wrote this instead of doing homework #anyway enjoy #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction

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thejustmaiden · 4 years

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Fiction and Real Life Go Hand In Hand

This blog goes out to all those pro-Sessrin fans out there who refuse to acknowledge the very real effects fiction can have on our world and vice versa. I highly encourage other Inuyasha fans who defend/enable these shippers to read this, as well. I assure you, by no means are my intentions here to stir up trouble. Honestly, I just want some good healthy discourse for once if that’s not too much to ask. If you do decide to engage, please be mindful of that and treat others with respect and I will do the same in return. All in all, the goal of this blog is to exercise my right to speak out and be critical about content I believe to have very potentially detrimental repercussions. I ask that you not attack me or insult me simply for stating an opinion. Thank you!

It’s like the title says, meaning fiction does matter. Where do you think we get ideas for all the stories we tell? Where do we draw inspiration from in the first place?

Real life, that's where! And yes, always with a touch of imagination! Long story short: fiction matters because real life does.

Allow me to elaborate.

Shippers of the Sesshomaru x Rin (Sessrin) pairing say it's not fair of us to throw around serious accusations or use certain deragatory terms that suggest such awful acts like child grooming or pedophilia because of the harmful implications. One of their reasonings being that some people IRL have actually lived through these traumas, so we shouldn't dare to assume they're comparable since one is just fiction and the other is not. But this isn’t about which is worse than the other, because they’re both super problematic. All we’re literally doing is making a link between grooming in real life and grooming in fiction. They mirror each other. Same issue; different mediums. We’re not undermining any one’s past experiences with grooming or the like, nor are we prioritizing fiction to diminish real life abuse. They’re both awful in numerous ways and that’s all we’re trying to say. In fact, if anything we’re attempting to demonstrate just how crucial this correlation is between them. In order to protect past victims and prevent future ones, we must remain vigiliant of the content we consume, and yes, sometimes that means we have to challenge it too. Just because it’s widely-viewed does not make it widely-accepted or well-received. It is paramount that we educate ourselves on how to be more critical of some of the harmful tropes and images that are still way too prevalent in mainstream media. Sexualizing young and pre-pubescent girls is way more normalized than some of us even realize. It’s sad but true that Sessrin is just one of many examples. I know it feels like society has failed us in a lot of ways, but it’s never too late to re-evaluate and re-learn better and more improved ways of viewing and processing information presented to us.

Our mission: Let’s not show our kids that grooming or any other form of abuse are acceptable if they may ever come to experience or encounter it themselves. Be it the real world or on screen. Deal?

There have been a number of occasions where real life victims do speak up against the Sessrin ship and express how extremely uncomfortable it makes them feel by what it represents. The problem is that it’s becoming more evident now that many of their fans will dismiss anything purely on the basis that we pose a threat to their ship and nothing more. What it comes down to is they have no real leg to stand on and cannot possibly top any of what we have to say so instead they simply disregard it. Our inconvenient truths don't fit into their ideal *cough* OOC *cough* narrative so they just choose to be willfully ignorant. It conflicts with their fantasy, so rather than present a sound argument of their own, they flat-out reject it and offer no plausible back-up behind their reasoning besides "I don't interpret it that way." GUYS, CHILD GROOMING IS NOT UP FOR INTERPRETATION.

Just because you so desperately want your ship to come true does not mean you can up and decide to redefine a word so that it caters to your stance. Remind yourself that these are complex AND objective terms that we have no right to fiddle with to serve our own selfish purposes. This is why we can conclude that there's no debate about Sesshomaru's actions towards Rin embodying child grooming.

I apologize if any of my words are triggering by the way, so please feel free to take a break and return later if that’s more suitable for you. it's just really important that everyone in this fandom comprehends the extent in which Sessrin going canon is catastrophic. And no, I'm not exaggerating; I'm simply speaking the truth. Shippers justifying these horrible acts- yes, even in fiction- is usually due to the stubborn refusal to hear us out. No offense to anyone (just stating facts), but more times than not antis like myself feel as if we’re talking to a brick wall when we interact with Sessrin peeps. They go in circles and never expand on their perspectives.

Just a head’s up: THIS GETS LONG. Stick with me. :p

Just look at their take on the Inukag vs. Sessrin relationships for example. This isn't a question of age gaps, this is a question of physical/emotional compatibility. Inukag are the same age mentally wise regardless of one being demon and the other not, whereas Sessrin is not and never will be, and yes, even once she's an adult. The thing is we have debunked this time and time again, because they’re not the same and therefore not comparable, but for some reason these fans won’t drop it. Nothing has changed in their argument, yet they’re persistent in bringing it up. I choose to not go into more detail, since like I said, you can find it around everywhere. I just wanted to touch upon it briefly to prove a point. Maybe it will come up again later in my blog though!

Where was I earlier? Right, child grooming! Haven't you guys realized that what you’re doing is precisely what child groomers do to make excuses or deny any grooming took place at all? (FYI: I’m not accusing you of being child groomers yourselves.) “They reciprocated so the feelings are mutual" is a typical groomer response, but of course it varies. More often than not, victims of grooming aren't even aware they've been groomed until much later. That's how manipulative groomers are that they can legitmately convince you that maybe you're wrong in questioning their motives. Perhaps in the victim’s mind that because one huge indicator of grooming never actually took place it technically cannot constitute as grooming. They start to doubt themselves even though their intuition is telling them something’s off. They should just ignore it then since it can’t possibly be grooming if that one particular thing never happened, right? Wrong, grooming isn’t strictly this or strictly that. It's much more complicated and multi-faceted. This is why the “but Sesshomaru left Rin in the village” point upsets me greatly. HE WAS STILL INVOLVED IN HER LIFE, Y’ALL.

On top of that, are you aware that this is the exact same kind of predatory mindset pedophiles use to describe their infatuation with children? They'll say things like, "I don't see them as an adult and a child. I see them as two people with a soul connection." Okay no joke, I wish I was lying, but that is literally a point one pro-sessrin fan on here recently used to defend this ship. It both astounds me and terrifies me that they don't see the glaring similarities they share in common with actual pedos.

Alright, I want to quickly return to what I was saying earlier about fiction's impact on real life. (Sorry, I’m a bit of a scatterbrain!)

The characters and their worlds in our stories that we dream up and bring to life are nothing short of awe-inspiring and magnificent if we so choose them to be. If it wasn't for our imaginations, stories like Inuyasha would have never come to exist. Fiction provides us an amazing outlet where we are given the opportunity to express ourselves and explore its infinite creative possibilities.

But strip away all the demons and magical components of this show we all love so dearly and what are we left with?

At the very core, Inuyasha is a story that's very reminiscent of the human experience: love, camaraderie, a sense of purpose, and much more!

So perhaps we got a full-fledged dog demon like Sesshomaru, but does that necessarily mean we can't relate to him or understand him simply because dog demons don't exist in the real world? Well, I hope that's not how you view it or else you're missing the whole point of why humans create stories to begin with. We create them to make better sense of and thus connect with the world we live in. And when you really think about it, our stories are just a celebration of life- both our struggles and our triumphs. Now I'm no philosophy professor, but I'm pretty sure they'd say I hit that nail right smack on the head. ;)

All shitty jokes aside, the whole reason I’m mentioning this specific example in the first place is because this recently came up with another Sessrin supporter. That supporter tried to defend the ship by stating that we aren't allowed to use Sesshomaru as an example to judge by since his kind don't exist in the real world.

Now if it isn't evident already, this "it's just fiction" argument is a popular go-to stance many Sessrin fans will resort to once they've run out of ideas and are metaphorically backed into a corner. The funny/sad thing is that they seem to sincerely believe this is strong enough evidence to defend their ship with, but per usual, they fail to see how hypocritical that would be. I’ll clarify soon down below.

Seriously, since when did we decide that fantasy- or any story genre for that matter- stopped reflecting the real world we live in? I mean, we humans are the ones writing these stories. Our human influence is bound to make an impact in some capacity. In fact, we want it to!

Obviously none of us have ever met a dog demon like Sesshomaru, because how could we? Let me tell ya, this is gaslighting at its finest! This is a fictional story with fantasy elements, so of course there will be beings and creatures in their world that don't exist in our own. Does that somehow translate to the fact that nothing from the story of Inuyasha can be applied to our own personal stories or that there aren't meaningful messages to be taught and learned?

So on the flipside, if they're not screaming at us "it's just fiction" for the hundred billionth time, then they are, believe it or not, doing the reverse and comparing it to real world history. One instance of this is how they tell us we're making a big deal about something that isn't real, but go right ahead and use the history of feudal Japan to support Sesshomaru's decision to court (aka GROOM) a young girl because that's how it was done back then. And so, your point being?? It wasn't right then just because it was legal, and it's most certainly not right now. This is how all of their arguments go by the way, where you'll constantly witness a cherry-picking approach. It's agonizing to endure contradiction after contradiction in their arguments filled with nothing but holes in their logic.

I'd just like to add that if we're overreacting to this fictional ship like they love to say we are then technically so are they. They tell us things like "grow up" or "nobody is telling you to keep watching," yet fail to realize they're reacting just as fervently as we are but just on the opposing side of the same damn argument. I find it interesting how they're as invested in this show but pretend they aren't then STILL have the audacity to say it's only us who care this much!? So thank you Sessrin shippers for further proving our point that fiction is more than capable of affecting reality and the people- YES, US- who reside in it.

It's insane that people act like pedophiles and other creeps don't enjoy entertainment too like the rest of us. Believe it or not, they look just like you and me most of the time. Yes, that means they can easily pass as a “regular guy” if they so wished to. My question to you is how do you think pedophiles will take it when they discover others- underage fans more specifically- who dig the same kinda media they get off to? Maybe not in the exact same way, mind you, but there's a thin line between them when you really think about it. I mean, what other explanation is there for why literal pedos on the internet have been known to sneak into pro-sessrin group chats here on Tumblr before? (Thankfully, they were later kicked.) I know that for a fact! It's almost as if the universe is trying to tell them something they refuse to listen to elsewhere. Hhmmm I wonder what that may be.

I imagine it’s possibly one of the hardest things to admit out loud and to themselves, but I can almost guarantee you that most of these Sessrin shippers who are victims of CSA and who still see no issue with Sessrin must be living with some sort of unresolved trauma caused by the very abuse they claimed to have undergone. It's been proven that victims who do not seek or properly receive the help and treatment they need in order to address and live with a traumatic experience such as this are more likely to perpetuate that very same abuse themselves in some way, shape or form. What if in this case fiction is enough for them, but who's to say it won’t eventually manifest itself in other more dire and far-reaching ways? It's not like we haven't seen this vicious cycle before, and I can promise you that Sessrin won't be the last. LET'S STOP NORMALIZING & GLORIFYING THE ROMANTIZATION & SEXUALIZATION OF CHILDREN. Fictional example: Usagi Drop. Need I say more? Real world example: Woody Allen. Again, need I say more?

Bottom line is that Sessrin shippers don't want us to think too critically about this ship of theirs, because if we dig too deep then they're forced to face the very troubling implications this pairing really stands for. Of course they'll never admit to them, because instead they rather double down and grasp at the same old straws as long as it means their precious ship is protected at all costs. Screw everyone else if that's what it takes, because they'll threaten to burn down legit buildings in real life if that ensures Sessrin goes canon! (True story, this happened on Twitter.) They’ll taunt and bully anyone who disagrees. Even if all you literally say is that you don’t like the ship, they’ll gang up on you. Tell them about your past experience with being groomed? They’ll laugh in your face. I wish I was kidding, but I assure you I am not. And they say we're ridiculous and taking this way too seriously? Yeah...

The typical behavior of a Sessrin shipper demonstrates an overly aggressive front since they're usually on defense mode anyway. They only want to ship their sick ship in peace in other words. But just because neo-nazis have a right to spew their bigoted ideology, doesn't mean we don't got the right to punch them! Freedom of speech doesn't equate to freedom from consequences. And Sessrin shippers wonder why they got so many haters. Just sayin'.

Their presence on other platforms like Twitter and Reddit are some examples of how delusional and unstable some Sessrin fans are capable of becoming. Even recently, an anon here on Tumblr sent Richard Ian Cox (English VA for Inuyasha) a totally uncalled for ask telling him that "sessrin is love and there's nothing he can do about it." (That's not verbatim, but if you're interested I'll link you to it.) It appears they discovered that he didn't like Sessrin based on how he had been replying to asks, and just for that reason alone they thought they had the right to harass him. For simply stating his opinion, y'all. They didn't even have the decency to show their face either. Talk about immature and cowardly!

Just yesterday (or was it the day before?) a fanatic Sessrin user on Tumblr- who’s also been known for hateful remarks on Twitter but those tweets have of course been deleted since then- went out of their way to not only lurk in a group chat they don’t belong to on here but to then proceed to harass a few of us in there. They had the guts to take screenshots from that group chat, tag us in posts on their page regarding what they read in there, and without our knowledge or permission went ahead and actually blogged them?? I mean, who calls out people behind their backs while they're just minding their own business?? It worries me how unhinged and out of touch with reality some Sessriners are. Not all of them, but a whole lot of them.

It seems all they are doing is looking for trouble, as they just can't stand how much we hate this ship. So it's more than okay if they love on their ship but it's not okay if we don't and we should just keep our mouths shut. But since when do Sessrin fans have authority over our opinions? Even if they were officially canon, nothing is ever gonna change our opinion. Now when they actually do decide to participate in discourse with antis, you'll see them fishing for excuses to bow out. How they normally go about this is by fabricating a way to blame us antis for their exiting a conversation as if we're being the irrational ones here.

There’s no denying that some antis can also be overly blunt or aggressive (nobody is saying we’re perfect here), but speaking for myself, I know I would never make such nasty comments about other fans and their personal lives. And honestly? It would make me feel like shit talking bad about someone I don't actually know. Nah, I won't stoop to that level or give haters that satisfaction. I may not attack them as people, but that doesn't mean I can't attack some of their messed up ideas that threaten to distort how we should or shouldn’t perceive certain dangerous situations and events. Seeing as how for me this is more than just a matter of opinion- it's a moral responsibility and even an obligation.

I know it's difficult to remain civil when things get heated and people start taking things personally- yet more proof that fiction impacts our lives- but that's the only way any of us will ever have constructive discussions about serious topics like this. Unfortunately, Sessrin shippers, from what I can tell, are incapable of engaging in real discourse for the most part. They may be vocal but that doesn't mean they can pack a punch. I’d really love to be proven wrong someday.

Okay, moving on! If they're not involved in some big-time gaslighting then they're using their infamous strawman argument approach.

Sessrin fans’ sole purpose isn't really to defend their ship, per se, but rather to deflect and antagonize. They like to mislead in order to shift the focus/blame onto their opponent or something else that's not related so that they can stray from the main point.

Take the drama CD for example. It's officially NOT considered canon, right? But that hasn't stopped many fans from referencing it anyway so let’s too consider it for a moment. The point is that they use its "existence" whenever convenient then deny it or downplay it whenever it’s not. So on one hand, it's plain as day that they celebrate it as proof of a romantic future for Sessrin. But then later once we point out to them that Sesshomaru is essentially confessing to Rin that he will wait for her until she's of age, they'll brush it off and quickly add that they didn't interpret the scene that way and leave it at that. I mean how else would you interpret it? And if it's not a proposal of sorts then why exactly are you bouncing off the walls about it to begin with?? If that's all it means is nothing then why are we even talking about this?! You see what I mean here??! And somehow we're the crazy ones?

Let me to be frank with you. If you haven’t listened to it already, this proposal he offered her sounded like a declaration of love in a multitude of ways, which is wildly inappropriate since Rin was only 12 at the time. Signifying that Sesshomaru was/is indeed grooming her. Well, that is if you choose to recognize the drama CD. Nevertheless, whether you do or not, I personally hate that this non-canon satire is even associated with the Inuyasha name to begin with. Ugh.

Intentional or not, Sesshomaru made a deliberate decision in that moment to tell a little girl- and not just any little girl mind you but a girl he's taken in under his care for a good year- that he would wait for her if she so chooses once she's old enough.

The issue is that it isn’t only age of consent we’re concerned about regarding this pairing. What Sessriners fail to see is that this grown male authority- her vassal, her guardian, her adoptive father, or whatever you wanna refer to him as- is basically making a move on this girl he had in his company for quite some time. There's no sugarcoating that. Us antis call it how it is, and I'm sure as fucking day other people who don't watch the show would most certainly agree that the Sesshomaru/Rin bond is filial. Set aside those rose-tinted glasses of yours, and going by everything we’ve been delivered in the manga and parts of the anime (and NOT the drama cd), there are literally no hints that indicate a blossoming romance between this adult male demon and this small human girl he’s taken under his wing. You can imagine them all you want if it pleases you, but that doesn’t mean they’re there. Adult!Rin is a figment of your imagination, nothing more. The idolization of this pairing is pretty disturbing seeing as all we have to go off of in canon is Child!Rin. There have only ever been sweet and innocent moments passed between the two, which is why I’m positive that an unbiased viewer or an outsider would state their dynamic resembled something akin to a father-daugther relationship. I would bet a shit ton of money on that, believe you me!

Rin's inhibitions are low because children are naturally naive and don't know any better. Remember, she adores and trust this man with all her heart, so why would she think any of this so-called grooming is not normal behavior. (I only say “so-called grooming” because I don’t think Sesshomaru bringing her gifts in the village has to be a romantic thing.) Or how would she ever be able to understand that she’s being taken advantage of if she has no previous experience with it? Maybe if she was present for that time Inuyasha and the gang scolded Miroku when they had learned that years previous he had supposedly proposed to this young girl in the village they were visiting, then Rin would. And he didn’t even assist in helping raise her but look at how they reacted! How is this any different than Sesshomaru hooking up with Rin later? It’s actually worse in Sessrin's case. Do you honestly believe that Inuyasha and the others would take kindly to this?

It's not uncommon and considered harmless for young children to have crushes on adults, after all, but the adults in these scenarios should never resort to using and abusing the position of power they held or continue to hold over this child for any reason whatsoever.

What I'm trying to get across here is that no matter how you spin it, Sessrin can NEVER be deemed a morally acceptable pairing. Like ship what you want, we're not saying you can't ship Sessrin. What we're saying is this:

STOP referring to their bond as "pure" and not expect backlash for your grossly inaccurate statements. Just admit it's toxic, because it's extremely harmful to many viewers- and not just victims- to pretend and suggest otherwise.

Please remind yourself of the very real canon fact that Rin traveled with Sesshomaru and they established a bond all while she was just a girl. Oh, and he saved her life too many times to count, not to mention brought her back from the dead TWICE. This is why I don't care much for your counter argument "that dynamics can change over time," because although that's true, like with everything in life there must be standards we adhere to. Exceptions to rules, if you will. Our own basic morals demand it.

For instance, it’s normal that some childhood friends begin to like each other as more than friends years down the road. Nothing wrong with that, because that's a natural and healthy occurrence. Now you cannot apply this to an adult and a child for obvious reasons, but what you also cannot do is apply this to an adult who met and knew another adult while they were still just a child. Why? Well, because it'd be like betraying and perverting that former child's view of you. They were never your equal because your established dynamic resembles that of one an adult posesses with a child even once they've grown up. Think about it this way: it's in the same bracket of family members or family friends who've watched you grow up and mature into an adult. Then later just because they're all grown up, does that mean that those children "are not off bounds" - that's quoting a Sessrin shipper by the way- to these certain family members and family friends?

If you're still struggling to grasp this, I urge you to take a moment (or all the time you need!) to really put yourself in that child's shoes and self-reflect. Would you truly be alright with a family friend you haven't seen in years (but sorely missed because they used to occasionally babysit you) just someday coming back into your life and then very inappropriately flirting with you or even making sexual advances on you? (Sorry for the run-on!) Or even worse, can you picture this happening to one of your own children??! Seriously, ask yourself that and sit with that for a while and really take it all in. It’s not fun, I know, but if that’s what it takes to help you finally understand then please try and practice more ways to utilize your self-awareness in the future. It’s for everyone’s benefit, not only yours, I promise! You'll also find it makes it tremendously easier to empathize with others.

I got news for those fans who don’t view Sesshomaru as a father figure to Rin. The title we give him doesn’t hold as much weight as a lot of us are making it out to be. Let’s try to be neutral here and stick to the hard facts, shall we?

*Sesshomaru is an adult male authority whose protection Rin is under*

*It’s safe to assume that Rin has grown attached to him and maybe even looks up to him*

*They care about each other and the other's well-being*

*He has has played a crucial part in her supervision and care for a significant period of time (yes, even if it’s just passing a message along to Jaken)*

Not so random anecdote: In an Inuyasha episode I recently revisited, Sesshomaru had just rescued Rin from Kohaku who had been possessed by Naraku and was ordered to kill Rin. Anyway, at the end of their scene you can hear Jaken ask out loud, “what should we do for dinner, Lord Sesshomaru?” And that’s about the most domestic thing I’ve ever heard come out of his mouth. They’re such a family dammit and nothing will ever change that!! <3

This is precisely why I could never in a million years view those past students of mine in a romantic light. I don't care how many years have passed, it's just not possible for me. Just the idea of pursuing a romantic and/or sexual relationship absolutely repels me.

Speaking as a former teacher, you don't need to be a parental figure who's around all the time in order to have great love and affection for a child. I would've done absolutely anything in my power to protect them even though they weren't my own. Then again, I did consider them my children in a way even if wasn't in a familial sense. Does that make my love for them any less unique? No, it's just different but not inferior. When you stop to think about, it really doesn't take as long as you may think to establish rapport with a person, particularly children. Connecting with a child is almost instant (but of course some are more receptive than others), and once you do make that special connection one can only make with a child, a strong and overwhelming need to guide and protect them kicks in almost automatically. The unconditional love an adult feels for a child is powerful and constant, and nothing should ever change that. As much as some of you really want to believe otherwise, that feeling doesn’t just go away because they turned 18. In your eyes, they’ll always be that kid.

I get it, sometimes when we escape into these fictional worlds of ours, it's difficult not to project our own wishes and desires onto certain characters. I don't blame fans for picturing themselves with Sesshomaru- I know I did haha- but never once did I self-insert myself as Rin. I know she's one of the biggest catalysts for his character growth- if not THE biggest- but how and why does that need to turn romantic? There are other antis who I have spoken with on this. They informed me that they used to live vicariously through Rin and ship them together, as well. As they got older, they later learned how weird and twisted this ship actually was. That's what's supposed to happen, y'all, you're supposed to grow out of that fixation.

Now take your mind out of the Inuyasha universe for a second and hypothetically (or not hypothetically if you have kids) answer me this: if and/or when you ever have a child, would you genuinely be comfortable with the idea of them dating and eventually marrying their father’s best friend who was also there to witness them grow up? Be honest please.

I highly doubt you would want that- or at least I hope not. You see, that's another MAJOR point I've made a few times already and yet you Sessrin shippers continue to avoid the question. It's pretty obvious it hasn't been rhetorical either. Ignorance is bliss?

Finally, I’d like to address one more point. It seems there is a HUGE misconception and I'd like to clear it up real quick. That is Sessrin shippers misinterpret one of the issues we have with this ship. They chalk up our complaints of Sessrin being canon (which is a LIE, nothing has been confirmed yet) to us just being salty because that somehow means our ships aren't or won’t be. I assure you, readers, other antis and I will attest that this ain't about dumb shipping wars, this is so much bigger than that!!!

I noticed recently that some Sessrin fans have even begun calling us Karens lolol like if anybody is a Karen it's them! This ain't about some mere difference in taste, this is very likely to have LONG-LASTING NEGATIVE EFFECTS. Sessrin going canon is a very harmful message to send viewers and children/teens especially. So if anything, it’s these shippers who are being the entitled ones here thinking that the fact we don’t support their ship is the worst thing in the world. NO, THE REAL PROBLEM IS CHILD GROOMING. GET OVER YOURSELF.

Out of nowhere, some of them even started assuming all us antis were white, which in their books is also equivalent to Karens or even white supremacists somehow?? Those aren't one in the same, but it's easy to make it appear that way when the US is currently tackling major systems of oppression and racial injustice. Because to them, all antis must be from over here. (Yes, I'm American. But no, I'm not white.) How else can anyone explain not shipping Sessrin, right?! Somehow they have it in their heads that ALL of Japan and surrounding places are super approving of this ship, and that everyone else isn’t because of their upbringing and “Western way of thinking.”

To give you an idea of what I mean, look back at what I talked about earlier with their incessant mention of Sessrin vs. Inukag. Because THIS is another popular example of how these shippers present their side and then ignore all the facts. Many fans have already proven how fucked up and inaccurate it is to label whole countries and cultures. It’s like they simply think mentioning it makes it count even though we’ve discredited their points over and over. Nah, you got to back it up with good reasons that support your side of the argument. That’s How To Have An Argument: 101. So at the end of the day, all they're actually achieving in doing is making dumb and entirely unrelated accusations based on nothing just to lead to deductions that are equally unfounded. Nothing at all is accomplished but more gaslighting and hurling of insults on their part = a complete waste of time for antis = an excuse for them to peace out early from the conversation & that’s what they wanted all along

We’ve reached the end (finally! sorry for all the rambling!), and I hope those of you who stayed till the end or read enough can take something positive out of this. As many Inuyasha fans are aware, there will be a livestream with the VAs for Sesshomaru and Rin coming out within the next few hours. We don’t have all the details yet, and afterwards we probably still won’t. I’m not just talking about Sessrin here but about the sequel in general. Whatever happens, please just remember to be kind to one another. If you don’t think you’re capable of doing that, then it’s best you vent and fume elsewhere. Easier said than done, I know, but just try. Throughout this blog, I admit there were moments where I got frustrated and took some jabs at Sessrin shippers. Please believe me when I say that I do not and would not ever wish any of you ill will.

Inuyasha was such a huge part of my childhood, and I’m not gonna lie, I’m anxious as hell that Sunrise will ruin one of the best things I loved about this show. So pardon me if my reactions are too visceral for your liking. haha Also, like the movies and the drama cd, this sequel is not in fact canon. Therefore, for those of you who disagree or who still plan to enjoy this new series, respect the fact that some of us fans will definitely “cancel” it if we feel that’s what we have to do to come to terms with it and move on. Fans have that right, after all. Why should we get on board with something if it’s so uncharacteristic of and unrecognizable from the original source material? If all this is some sort of cash grab of Sunrise’s doing, then count me out. I truly hope that this sequel turn outs being a lot more promising than a lot of us are expecting. I’m begging you, Sunrise, I wanna believe you’re better than this. Please and thank you!

By the way, if you’re interested, feel free to check out my two other blogs on this same subject. Click here and here. The last two screenshots do not come from something I’ve written myself. If you’d like to read more from where those came from, let me know and I’d be more than happy to send you the links. Okay, bye for now. Peace out and stay safe, everyone!

#inuyasha #hanyo no yashahime #anti sessrin #sesshomaru #rin

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

Text

Also its important to remember that canon has context too, and like....I refer back to canon as often as I do because IT is the context for fics and fanon.....but in the case of canon itself, the context is often the knowledge and perspective and even biases of the writer writing a piece of canon.

And that example from Batman and the Outsiders that @nightwingmyboi included for Dick’s conversation with Cass about his behavior towards her is a significant example of this because like......it has an extremely narrow context, with no sign in the narration there of any context OUTSIDE of what the writer is referencing.

What I mean by that is.....Dick actually was originally quite welcoming of Cass. He got along great with her, taught her all sorts of things, did his best to help her adjust.

The time when he wasn’t welcoming specifically, and seemed to take her adoption badly, is like.....directly about the time when Cass’ adoption first came up at all....in a story called Redemption Road.

Make no mistake, Dick very much acted like an ass to Cass there. Oh, even then not without reason, like, his behavior was characterized as him being suspicious due to the fact that Cass had recently been brainwashed into working for Deathstroke and killed again due to his control, and nowhere did Dick express that his issues were with Cass herself but rather that he was worried about taking it for granted that the brainwashing was gone and dealt with. With this particularly juxtaposed against the fact that Good Dad Bruce Wayne was very much on display throughout this story and Bruce was consistently characterized as being fully in Cass’ corner and showing none of his usual paranoia or concerns about something like whether they could trust someone who was recently brainwashed. Thus Dick kinda stepped into that role in the absence of Bruce assuming it as he normally would.

Now, personally, as much as I don’t LIKE how Dick acted towards Cass in that story, I’ve never considered it OOC....as I’ve always headcanoned it as being a bit of a prodigal son situation. In my mind, Dick was either consciously or unconsciously paralleling these circumstances with things like the time when he was brainwashed by the Church of Blood for a year....and he very much did NOT get a free pass on anything he did during that time (despite people promising they did understand it), with ‘decisions he’d made’ during that time frequently being brought up and thrown in his face afterward.

So my read of that story was always in light of that, and the fact that Bruce was very much removed from Dick’s life at that specific time and was a non-entity in helping Dick recover from all of that......and so I headcanoned that Dick’s attitude towards Cass was at least a little bit influenced by him being resentful of seeing her get the unconditional support and understanding from Bruce that Dick got none of in an EXTREMELY similar situation, and very much could have used at the time.

(Especially of relevance here IMO is the fact that Dick was very much in Limbo when it came to Bruce at that time, with the Church of Blood storyline happening when he was nineteen and thus no longer Bruce’s ward or legally bound to him in any way, estranged from him in every other way, and it would be years more until he was actually adopted....whereas in Redemption Road, Bruce’s actions were consistently geared towards getting Cass to accept that he didn’t blame her for what she’d done while brainwashed, that he did still very much want her to be part of his family, and here was his offer of adoption if she wanted it, as a result. Like....it was beat for beat EXACTLY what I imagined Dick wanted to happen in his own parallel circumstances back then, dreamed of happening, but very much DIDN’T happen...and here he was watching it happen with no acknowledgment whatsoever of when he experienced no similar drive from Bruce to show that he was understood, forgiven and wanted, at a time when he desperately wanted and needed all of that).

And thus Dick was acting and behaving towards Cass here in much the same manner as everyone had treated him when it was him in that position....with this not being hypocritical so much as him internalizing the idea that SOMEONE had to express this skepticism/judgment towards Cass here, in order for Dick to not raise long-dead and buried resentments of how all his friends and loved ones expressed that very same attitude towards him when it was him in this place. In order to be okay with that, he had to kinda internalize the idea that their behavior was valid and necessary and earned....which in turn made him internalize that it was valid and necessary and earned that someone express that behavior here and now.

BUT its not remotely in Dick’s nature to make excuses for his own behavior, or to cut himself slack....so its perfectly in character in my opinion for him to express the sentiments he’s expressing to Cass in that example. To focus SOLELY on his poor behavior and make the time when he wasn’t welcoming to her stand as if it was the entirety of their history together...when it wasn’t. At all. It was one small slice of their history, with a very specific context, that Dick certainly wasn’t about to bring up.....and that no one else brought up either, and thus it might as well not have existed.

So if I were writing that story, personally, I wouldn’t necessarily have done anything differently in characterizing Dick. I might have even had him say those exact same things to her about how he hadn’t been welcoming to her and had an issue with her adoption at that specific time.

BUT.....I would have contextualized this as being unreliable narration on his part, and used OTHERS, or even just him having other conversations elsewhere, to provide the context that I felt was necessary to explain WHY he’d acted the way he had, even without Dick himself offering that mindset up as an excuse.

Like, and there’s so many ways to contextualize that scene. You could have Cass herself push back against the idea that he was just wholly unwelcoming to her, and express that he had been really great at first and she’d really appreciated that, or even frame it as her expressing confusion as to WHY he’d acted that way towards her later, when he’d been so much more open with her before.

Or you could have Dick have conversations about that with others in his life, even in the form of making further self-recriminations against his behavior, like, getting down on himself for being such an ass to her there.....BUT using friends who knew him well to push back against the idea that this is just who he is rather than it being born of specific circumstances and his own issues....like maybe him talking about this with Roy or Kori and them raising the possibility “hey, I know this is a sore spot, but do you think that maybe the reason you reacted so badly to Cass there was because it brought up a lot of old stuff about that time you were brainwashed for a year?” Dick wouldn’t even have to agree with their assessment in the end, but it being raised as a possibility at ALL would at least allow readers to enter that context into their own interpretation of his actions and behavior and decide for themselves whether it played a role.

Or you could have Dick have a conversation with Bruce about it, with maybe even Bruce being the one to say, I’m a little surprised how harsh you were with Cass, as it doesn’t seem like you....and with this opening the door to Dick finally airing some long pent-up grievances in the form of him maybe only then just realizing himself that y’know what, it ISN’T like me, and now that I think about it its because it had nothing to do with Cass really, and it was more about me reacting off of how you were acting with her....and dealing/not dealing with the reality that it was exactly what I’d always wanted to see and hear from you back then, but you were nowhere to be found, and you certainly weren’t stepping in to protect me from people giving me crap for my brainwashed actions or expressing doubt about my trustworthiness/capabilities the way you were stepping into protect Cass from me expressing doubt about her trustworthiness, etc.

See what I mean? SO many possibilities there, all of which provide so much more meat and context to that particular story than Dick just being a douche to Cass because generic daddy issues or whatever.

But you gotta actually DRAW those connections in a story you’re writing, to go alongside the unreliable narration you’re having color Dick’s view of his own actions or behavior.....or else, those connections just flat out aren’t going to exist for most readers to be aware of or factor in to provide CONTEXT to Dick’s unreliable narration.

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butterbeeryuta · 4 years

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the ikea guy

ikea employee!yangyang x uni student!reader | oneshot series | fluff, CRACK| 1.9 k

Fuck Kim Doyoung. Fuck his boyfriend. Fuck the weak ass tv rack you bought. Fuck the human’s Id taking control over people. Fuck humanity.

The last thing you wanted to see was your roommate and his boyfriend, who were both barely clothed by the way, trying to fix the already broken tv rack you bought 2 years ago when you moved out of the dorms to a new apartment 8 minutes away from your university. Short story short, the two men were busy doing their shit— which you honestly did not mind since you yourself bring home some guys to, you know, have fun with. But what you could not understand was why they had to do in your living room, against the tv rack. All you could remember was screaming at Doyoung, while Taeyong was there apologising, but you knew that the little devil was internally laughing, finding the entire situation hilarious. Your roommate, on the other hand, was not giving a shit about what you were saying, which was normal for the two of you. Ever since he moved in with you in your second year, both of you had an interesting relationship. Despite your arguments with one another and ‘uncaringness,’ assuming that is a word, the two of you still looked after another. A month or so ago, Doyoung kept you up all night since he was busy having a little drinking party in his room, and his friends were loud. Especially that Jaehyun guy; his laugh alone could honestly wake up the entire neighbourhood. Then again, Doyoung’s laugh is pretty ugly too considering he literally laughs like, ‘ha ha ha ha ha ha.’ I swear, you love Doyoung. Anyways, Doyoung nicely mailed all of your professors the next day that you were feeling unwell, allowing you to stay in and sleep a bit more. Except, he told you about it while you were rushing to the door to run to your lessons. You two were interesting.

Eventually, Doyoung apologised and gave you the money to purchase a better tv rack. You were expecting him to buy it for you, then again, he was Kim fucking Doyoung. He just ain’t like that. So here you were, at motherfucking Ikea. Every child’s nightmare, including yours. Your aim was to find the cheapest tv rack, yet still pretty good in quality. You were not the type to give a damn about the aesthetics and things; if it’s going to help you store your shit, that’s all you needed. Which is probably why you hated furniture shopping, you could never appreciate the so-called ‘beauty’ of it. Following the arrows printed on the grey floor, buying the tv rack was more complex than you thought. There was black, white, yellow, brown, wooden, grey— more colours than you could have ever imagined. You honestly just wanted the cheapest one at this point, forget quality. Everything else was giving you a headache. Without wanting to use more of your brain cells, perhaps for now, socialising will make it less painful, even if you really hated people as of this moment. Looking around for a person wearing the yellow and blue striped shirt with a name tag on, you eventually found the person you were looking for. Not too tall, but he wasn’t short either. Well, at least he won’t be intimidating.

‘Um, excuse me—‘

‘Ma’am the hotdogs and ice cream are available after you purchase your materials at the cashier.’

What. What the fuck?

‘What?’ The guy turned to look towards you, unamused with whatever you currently had to say. Your eyes slightly widened by his appearance, but you swear to your kneecaps if he remains to be like this, you’re going to bite.

‘You’re looking for the food right? Just pay for whatever stuff you have now and—‘

‘Why the hell would I want to buy food here, I just want to know the cheapest tv rack you have in this store’ you interrupted, not willing to hear any of his bullshit, despite him having a pretty face. Now it was his turn to be taken back by what you said. Goodness, how long has this imbecile been working here?

‘Oh um… yeah I don’t know. Maybe if you’ll look around you’ll know?’ Oh you’ve got to be kidding. Not wanting to waste more time on this pretty idiot, you looked at his name-tag to tell off to another Ikea employee. You were not having it today. See you later Yangyang.

—————————————————————————————————

Okay. Apparently people who work in this nightmare of a furniture store take their shit seriously. You just went to another person to complain about Yangyang, and here you are, at the manager’s office. Literally, what the fuck.

‘I would like to apologise on his behalf again, he’s new here. He does not know what exactly he is doing, but I can assure you the rest of the staff here are kind and willing to help. I sincerely apologise that you had to experience such unacceptable behaviour from our staff’ the manager said, bowing his head for the nth time. You honestly wanted to leave and just purchase the tv rack online; you wanted that Ikea guy to not be a dick— that’s why you complained. What you didn’t want is the poor guy to be fired from his job.

‘No, no, please don’t worry. I’m pretty sure he is a good natured person, probably just had a bad day—‘

‘No, that is utter nonsense! We will get this settled now. Please take a seat Ms. ________’ he said, moving his rather puffy face towards the black microphone, pressing the green button with his stubby fingers. Oh no.

‘Liu Yangyang please come to Mr. Park Yoobin’s office. Liu Yangyang please come to Mr. Park Yoobin’s office, now.’ What have I done.

—————————————————————————————————

You were annoyed that you put yourself into this mess. But the guy beside you, if looks could kill, you would have probably woken up in hell by now. You felt bad, you didn’t want this to happen at all. Like you said, you just complained about Yangyang being ‘not helpful’ when you asked him a question to another man that was slightly shorter than you. You expected no reaction at all, you just did it cause you were in a bad mood thanks to Doyoung and his boyfriend. That was of course, until the older man gasped loudly, shocked to hear the words that came out of your mouth. Today was a really bad day.

‘Mr. Liu, I know that this is your second week working here, but that gives no excuse to treat a lovely customer like Ms. ________ poorly. Even if you didn’t know where a certain furniture piece is, you could have made the effort to look for it with her.’ Mr. Park said, his eyebrows furrowing even more as he spoke. It was quite a funny sight from where you were sitting. Then again, this was not a funny situation, you hated every minute of it because not only is it wasting your time, but you could possibly be the reason why this Ikea guy will lose his job.

Yangyang felt pretty guilty for assuming in an instance that you were wanting to ask for food, when you actually had a pretty genuine question. He also felt useless for not helping you effectively, but he didn’t want this job at all. He wanted to work at the cafe near his university, instead of travelling for another 30 minutes just to be in the corner and see people search for furniture to build their so-called ‘dream home.’ Although he did not exactly have anything against an aesthetic appeal or such, he did judge people like that. And little did he know, so were you. Then again, he didn’t exactly care about that at this point. He wanted to stay away from you as soon as possible for putting him in such a position. He already felt bad for not helping you properly, and maybe he somewhat understood why he was sitting in the manager’s office, but literally, what the fuck.

‘Mr. Park, I honestly did not mean to show such disrespect to the customer. I do admit that I was being a know-it-all, thinking that she— what’s your name again?’ He asks me, actually talking to me for the first time since he walked into the room.

‘Um, ________—‘

‘Ms. ________ wanted to go to the food court. And as you said, I have only been here for 2 weeks. I am still unsure of where certain things are, and I perhaps should have helped Ms. ________, so yes, I do sincerely apologise.’ My, my, was he good at saying bullshit.

‘Mr. Liu I appreciate your honesty, and you should really be grateful for Ms. ________ for being so kind, wanting to make sure that nothing happens to you’ the man in front of you said, both his hands interlocking one another as he looks at his employee. And although you were looking at Mr. Park, you certainly did not miss the widening of Yangyang’s eyes. He must be thinking that I was a hypocritical psycho bitch. He isn’t wrong with that at all though.

‘Um, Mr. Park. If you really want to make it up for me, I just really need the tv rack. My roommate is paying for it, so considering that, it really urgent for me to go soon. I’m sure Yangyang was just having a bad day, so please, give the boy a second chance.’ You began packing your things, eventually standing up, not wanting to hear any more rebuttals from the Ikea manager. You had enough.

‘Ms. ________ hold on—‘ And you closed the door. Fucking rat, why couldn’t he leave me alone and deal with his employee privately?

—————————————————————————————————

You finally got the cheapest tv rack available from Ikea, completely contradicting yourself earlier when you said you would’ve rather shopped online. With the amount of cash Doyoung gave you, Ikea was probably a better choice.

‘Hey, you!’ What the fuck?

You turned around, and of course, it was the Ikea guy, but he wasn’t wearing his uniform. And he looked so much more attractive, no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it. With his dyed hair swept to the side and his oversized knit turtle neck, he looked so much… softer and calmer. Well that contrasted with his character. You crossed your arms, waiting for the man to come closer.

‘What was that about? Look, I know I didn’t help you and I do feel quite guilty about it, but was it really that necessary to—‘

‘Before you act like a dick again, I didn’t want it to happen either. I’m a petty ass person, and though it wasn’t mandatory to tell on you, which I’m sorry for by the way, you annoyed me despite how pretty you look. I’m pretty sure you still have your job, and I got my tv rack. So let’s just forget all of this happened, and move on with our petty lives— are you okay? Did I say something wrong’ Why is he looking at me like that? He just smiled at me, tilting his head slightly, and it’s making you feel warm for some reason.

‘Well since you said that we both live petty lives, and called me pretty so thank you for that, let me take this—‘ he says, tearing the tv rack box open, grabbing one of the rack’s legs, which only made you stand in complete astonishment; what the mcfucking hell was he doing? ‘—and well, somehow find me babe!’ Yangyang shouts, walking away from you quicker and quicker.

‘GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE, AND RETURN MY FUCKING LEG!’

‘By the way, I also think you look pretty!’ He’s worse than Kim Doyoung. He is actually so much worse than Kim Doyoung.

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dragonologist-phd · 4 years

Note

"Let me ask the prophetess Memory" for Nona? Or Desta, if Nona doesn't feel it.

“Let me ask the prophetess Memory” (”Αναερείπωση”)

thank you for the prompt! I was really expecting to do this for Nona, but then Desta popped up with an idea that wouldn’t go away, so enjoy this bit of Desta and Woedica hating each others’ guts!

(AO3)

The book is delivered by a mysterious, hooded person who disappears from the docks just as quickly as they arrived, giving Desta no time to ask any questions before the thing is thrust into her hands. It’s quite obviously ancient, burnt beyond legibility and nearly falling part, held together only by some strange magic that sends a shiver down Desta’s spine. The unfamiliar magic should be a warning sign…but Desta is curious.

She lifts open the front cover slowly, noting the odd warmth emanating from the book’s spine. As the stiff pages move under Desta’s fingers, a voice fills her head with the sort of echoing power that she has only ever heard from the gods.

“Watcher”. The voice is imperious and thoroughly self-assured in its condescension, and it isn’t difficult for Desta to identify the speaker. A strange power threatens to wash over her, similar to the way Berath has previously pulled her into the In Between, and Desta barely has enough time to slam the book shut before it fully takes effect.

Promptly, she turns on her heels and chucks Woedica’s book into the ocean. She has quite enough to deal with already without throwing that into the mix.

Unfortunately, the problem of the book is not so easily dealt with. Desta is rummaging through her bag two days later when instead of a spyglass her fingers brush up against the spine of the thick, tattered, most-definitely-not-soaking book. Perhaps it’s just her imagination, but the increased heat it gives off feels almost indignant.

Still, Desta refuses to open it. She tries throwing it away a few more times, only for it to consistently reappear among her possessions, each time growing warmer and warmer until just touching it nearly burns her fingers. But for all its stubbornness, the book does not force its visions upon her, so for the most part Desta is able to pretend it isn’t there.

Meanwhile, the looks Desta receives from Woedica whenever Berath invades her dreams to hold court with the gods only get more and more scathing as time goes on. Desta doesn’t pay them much mind. After everything she’s already been through because of the high and mighty queen of the gods, courtesy is quite low on the list of her concerns.

“Ah. The insolent Watcher.”

Desta blinks, surprised, as she realizes she is still standing in the In Between. This is normally the part where the gods, having had their fill of arguing with both her and each other, leave Desta with vague ultimatums and fade away to do whatever it is they do when they’re not making demands of Watchers.

But this time is different. This time, one god lingers, and Desta finds herself under the cold, disapproving gaze of Weodica.

Desta releases a long, tired sigh before answering. “That’s me. What’s this about? Don’t tell me you need the last word so badly you’re actually willing to suffer my presence.”

Woedica’s expression, already stony, somehow hardens even further. “Your disregard for your gods does you no credit.”

The air around Desta seems to grow thin as Woedica speaks, and for a few moments she finds it increasingly difficult to breathe. A small part of knows this is unwise, reminds her that provoking gods who already hate her is not good for her health. But Desta is done playing their games. She’s faced Galawain. She’s faced Rymrgand. She’s spent over a year arguing with Berath on a regular basis. As much as they may wish to, the gods can’t kill her now; not when they need her.

Stubbornly, Desta pushes through the sensation, clenching her jaw as she meets Woedica’s stare head-on. “None of you are my gods.”

Woedica is silent for a moment, and the pressure around Desta releases slightly. “Is that your aim, then? You support Eothas in his foolhardy endeavor to hand the world over to kith- the very same kith who could not even come together to address the threat he poses?”

“Eothas is no better than the rest of you,” Desta snaps. “Trampling through the Deadfire because he thinks he knows what’s best for us. But if I’m being honest, a world without the gods sounds pretty good to me.”

Anger flashes in Woedica’s eyes, venom leaking into her voice as she responds. “So self-righteous. So convinced you alone have the answers.” The goddess considers Desta for a moment. “A world without gods. I remember what that is like. We all do, but it is I who still see that world the clearest; after all, memory has always been my domain. And I remember that it was a world kith did not desire to live in.”

“Your opinion on that isn’t exactly unbiased,” Desta points out. “Beside,s this isn’t the world you remember. A lot has changed. We don’t need a bunch of hypocritical, cowardly-”

“Watch your tongue, mortal,” Woedica commands, and this time the air is forced out of Desta’s lungs. It only lasts a moment, but it leaves Desta doubled over and gasping for air as the goddess stands over her, cold and impassive.

��Berath has been far too lenient with you. You need to be taught proper respect.” She studies Desta for a moment in silent judgment. “You say the world has changed enough to move on without us. That remains to be seen. The truth of your words would be easier to discern had you cooperated with me from the start. But I have been observing you all the same. Decisions will need to be made soon, and those decisions will be determined by your performance on this journey.”

Desta’s breathing has finally steadied enough for her to speak again. “Is that what this is about? An evaluation of my performance?” She laughs, and the sound is only slightly delirious. “Let me guess- you have some critiques?”

“Naturally,” Woedica answers drily. “You are emotional. Impulsive. Foolish. You are an example of why kith obviously still need the guidance of the gods to keep them from destroying themselves.” She pauses, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “And yet some of my brethren still disagree. And some of your actions thus far will make it difficult to argue my case.”

That catches Desta by surprise. She wonders for a moment whether it was meant as a condemnation or a compliment, and in the end she simply shrugs. “Making things difficult for gods is a specialty of mine, I guess.”

Woedica remains unimpressed. “Perhaps you should focus that ability on Eothas. The future of the world will depend on your next encounter with him. Do try not to ruin that future with your stubbornness.”

After awakening from her time in the In Between, Desta makes her way upwards to the deck of her ship. She leans against the railing, turning over her latest conversation with the gods in her head. In the distance, the storms around Ondra’s Mortar rage on, growing closer with every passing minute. Ukaizo- and Eothas- lie just beyond.

Desta pulls the book from its insistent position in her bag. It’s still warm, but no longer threatens to burn her hands as she holds it out in front of her.

Woedica thinks a future without the leadership of gods is destined for failure. But Desta has seen for herself what happens when the gods rule unchallenged. Honestly, she thinks the world can do better. She thinks the world deserves better.

Desta has no idea what the future holds, and she’d be lying is she said that didn’t scare her at all. But she knows that some things belong in the past. “We’re not repeating old mistakes,” she says quietly. “Maybe we’ll make some new ones. But we’ll handle them on our own.”

She drops the book into the sea, and as it disappears below the waves, she has a feeling that this time it won’t be coming back.

#pillars of eternity #ch: desta #writing prompt #risualto

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feelingsobloom · 4 years

Text

8 Letters

“If all it is is eight letters Why is it so hard to say? If all it is is eight letters Why am I in my own way? Why do I pull you close And then ask you for space If all it is is eight letters Why is it so hard to say?”

-8 Letters by Why Don’t We

The facts were undeniable. Kyuhyun was completely and totally in love with you.

He’d give everything for you. Career, friends, happiness. Just to see you happy, just to watch you smile.

Maybe that was why he had said no to you.

Your cheeks were rosy red, and your eyes couldn’t even hold his gaze as you shuffled your feet and stammered over your words. God, you had looked so cute standing there in front of him, shaking ever so slightly as you tried desperately to calm your raging nerves.

“I… I was wondering.”

Each word that left your mouth was so hesitant- but have no doubt Kyuhyun knew it was deliberate. He could just imagine how long you had spent in your room, rehearsing what you were going to say, building up the confidence to come up to him and tell him that you liked him and that you wanted to date him.

And Kyuhyun wanted nothing more than to say yes to you. All he wanted was to take your shaking hands in his and smile at you. Tell you that he would be honored to go out with you. Cause he would. He could imagine how much fun it would be to take you in his arms at that very moment- maybe even literally sweep you off of your feet.

Tell you just how much he loved and cared for you and wanted you to be right there next to him.

He could imagine maybe taking you by surprise and kissing you right there. He wondered how you would react to that. Would your cheeks feel warm against his? Would you try to break it to tell him he didn’t have to pretend to like you- only for him to interrupt you with another kiss and a: “I want nothing more than this.”? Or maybe, just maybe you two wouldn’t kiss then at all.

Would you kiss after your first date? Him walking you home, his jacket draped over your shoulders because of course it had been much too cold for you to be wearing just that dress that you had gotten into just for him. He would pull you close by the jacket, pressing his lips firmly against yours, and you would murmur about how you had a great time and-

“Kyuhyun? It’s burning.”

Kyuhyun looked down at the egg on the skillet in front of him, holding back the overwhelming urge to curse under his breath.

He was getting too distracted recently by you.

He smiled nervously, and picked up the pan, sliding the egg into the trash.

“Never hurts to just start over,” he assured light-heartedly. Beside him, Yongtae was giving him a skeptical look and he gave him a small shrug. “What?”

“You’re just… Scattered today, that’s all,” Yongtae replied with a shrug. He went back to mixing the pancake batter he was working on. Kyuhyun snorted.

“It’s five in the morning. Today just started,” he replied pointedly. Yongtae looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I know. But it would’ve been rude to tell you that you’ve been scattered for the last month or more,” he stated plainly. Kyuhyun just stared at him, not really sure what to say. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t know why he had been quote on quote scattered.

His eyes trailed over to where you were seated, your legs crossed as you flipped through the pages of a book.

You weren’t just anyone in this company. You were one of the people that had helped make ENOi possible. You went from being just a desk worker to standing there at Kyuhyun’s side, bar graphs and power point in place explaining all the pros to dipping into the Idol business.

You had watched Kyuhyun standing in front of Kithewhale a determined look on his face and you had asked him what was on his mind. When he told you his plan, you had immediately been in. You had immediately trusted him.

He knew he was forever indebted to you for helping him make his last second dream come true.

Yongtae seemed to notice Kyuhyun’s eyes, and he sighed.

“I don’t understand you,” he mumbled. “If you like her just tell her. She’s been trying to get you to go out with her for how long?”

When Kyuhyun turned you down the first time he had assumed you would give up your pursuits of him but only a week later you were confessing again, and a few days after that you were asking him out again.

“I know you like me Kyuhyun,” you said with an odd sense of determination and confidence, your eyes gleaming with mischief. Kyuhyun remembered the way he had laughed off the accusation.

“Sure, I like you as a friend, but nothing else y/n, I swear.”

You just wouldn’t listen to him, no matter how much he assured you that he didn’t like you in that way.

Maybe he wasn’t as good of a liar as he thought he was.

“I can’t date her, I mean we are idols now,” he mumbled. Yongtae rolled his eyes.

“Right, cause idols don’t date,” he grumbled. Kyuhyun opened his mouth to say more but Yongtae interrupted him before he could manage it. “And of course, Rays are terribly possessive of us. They aren’t always telling us that they just want our happiness or anything of the sort.”

Kyuhyun shot a glare at Kyuhyun and it made the other boy raise his hands in surrender.

“Look, I’m not telling you how to live your life, but you would be so happy with her. Don’t use the group as an excuse not to date her. You need to own up to the fact that you aren’t dating her because of something else,” he stated. Kyuhyun didn’t let his glare waver… But he also knew that Yongtae was right.

Rays didn’t care if he dated. No one at the Kithewhale would be mad. No one in ENOi either.

The only person who was keeping him from doing this was himself.

And why? Not because he didn’t like you.

“Hey, Kyuhyun!” You called as the group of boys set to clean their dishes from breakfast. He looked up at you, a confused expression on his face. You hesitated as you approached him, glancing down at his plate of food. A concerned expression riddled over your face. “Are you okay? You haven’t eaten.”

Kyuhyun followed your gaze down to his plate, and suddenly he understood why you were concerned. His plate was practically untouched, he hadn’t eaten a single thing he had been so distracted by his own thoughts… He knew what you thought it meant.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assured softly. You were clearly not taking it, so he took you by the hands, smiling up at you. “Hey, don’t worry so much about me. I’m living the dream. Look how happy I am.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes so Laon reached forward with one of his hands, placing his fingers tenderly beneath your chin and lifting your eyes to his. Once your gazes met, he let his head fall inquisitively to the side.

“I’m just thinking, really I am,” he assured.

Your grip tightened on his.

“Kyuhyun, I really love you,” you mumbled. It made his heart skip a beat at the words. He wasn’t sure what he could possibly say to those words, and it honestly concerned him the way that he clammed up. His appetite suddenly disappeared again, and he had to really fight to keep himself from tightening his grip on your hand.

“I know,” he murmured. “But you don’t need to worry. I’m okay.”

You didn’t seem convinced by that but you relented after seeing the sincerity in his eyes. You dropped his hand and took the seat in front of him, resting your cheek on your hand as you began to talk.

He knew that he should be focusing on the task at hand… But god was it hard to focus when you were so close to him. He couldn’t help but watch you for your every quirk and nervous tick. The way that your eyes trailed away from his when you got self-conscious by the amount of eye contact you two were sharing.

Your eyes would get wide as you spoke excitedly, trailing through the activity list that Kyuhyun had given you to review. He liked how passionate you were about ENOi. He knew that you would give anything for the group and it touched him to know that you cared about the same sort of things that he did.

He knew that in the future- if you two were to share one together, you would care about the same sort of things. He knew that you would always be devoted to him. You never let him down after all. You always did what he asked no matter how extravagant the request. He was lucky to have you in his corner.

He honestly couldn’t believe that you had ever fallen for someone like him.

“Kyuhyun, are you even listening to me?”

The way that you said his name… It always made him smile just a little bit more, his expression brightening as soon as he looked at you. Clambering over himself to recall what you had said.

“Of course, I am. No idol show unless they invite us. Email the company for the photos and run the album track list with the company,” he replied softly. “I always listen to you love. How could I not?”

He leaned towards you across the table, watching in adoration as your cheeks reddened and you scoffed at his words.

“I know you weren’t listening… I mean, I don’t know how you did that, but I know you weren’t listening,” you mumbled uncertainly. He smiled at you and poked his fork into his food.

“You’re so defensive,” he mumbled teasingly, before raising the food to his lips. He noticed how carefully you watched the action, your apprehension was undeniable, and all it was about was making sure he ate food.

He sort of felt bad for making you worry so much about something so small. After all, his health should hardly be of your concern.

“Since you’re so obsessed with my eating habits. What have yours been like?” He asked between bites of food. In response, your cheeks pinked a little and you looked away from him shyly. His eyebrows raised in surprise.

That wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting.

“I mean… I haven’t had anything to eat today-”

“You’re such a hypocrite!” He exclaimed. He slid his plate of food towards you pointedly and jerked his head towards some spare silverware on the table. “Eat.”

“Kyuhyun I can’t eat-” You interrupted yourself with a sigh and picked up the fork when you saw the unwavering glare that was on Kyuhyun’s face. “Look I may be a hypocrite but at least I’m not as stubborn as you are.”

You took a bit of the food off his plate and plucked it into your mouth. He shrugged.

“Well, I got what I wanted didn’t I?” He asked pointedly.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I spoil you.”

Kyuhyun chuckled under his breath and settled back a little. Content in just watching you eat the food that he had prepared. He realized with a start that he wasn’t really sure what kind of food you tended to eat. He had never gone to get food with you before, or seen you eat anything at all.

He suddenly became antsy, wondering if you even liked the food he had prepared.

Would he be the one cooking for you in the future? If you two were to get married would he need to learn to cook you food different than what he already knew how to make? He wasn’t really sure how he would fare learning new recipes. Sure, he would do it for you but that would be hours he would spend learning to do things he didn’t already know how to do. Did he even have time for that? A-

“Gotta say, I’m jealous of the other guys. They get to eat your cooking all the time. This food is incredible,” you mumbled interrupting Kyuhyun’s train of thought. You weren’t looking at him, just staring at the food with large eyes. It was a good thing too, because it meant that you didn’t see the color that rose to his cheeks at the compliment.

“You really like it that much? They’re just eggs.”

“The best eggs I’ve ever eaten in my life,” you replied pointedly. “Seriously, I had no clue you cooked this well. I could live on this food.”

Kyuhyun rolled his eyes at your dramatic display of gratitude.

“Yeah, yeah, well if you like it that much then maybe I’ll make some more for you sometime,” he stated.

You made things so simple for him. He was so quick to assume he was a burden in your life. Like somehow his status or his ambition or something would somehow inhibit him from having a relationship with you.

Yet everyday you proved in every way that his frets were all for nothing. You would making dating such an easy thing for him, he just knew you would. Somedays he didn’t understand where his anxieties came from other days he thought those unnecessary anxieties were the reasons that he shouldn’t tell you how much he loved you.

Yet no matter what no matter how many times he turned you down and told you that he didn’t like you as much as you wanted to think- everytime he felt like he was falling, you appeared and made it feel like he was standing on solid ground.

“Hey y/n?” You looked up at him, your eyes full of innocence. He reached forward and took your hand in his. “I love you too.”

You smiled at him.

“I know Kyuhyun.”

And just like that Kyuhyun knew that everything would be okay.

#Laon #ENOi #ENOi Fanfiction #ENOi Fanfic #Laon Fanficion #Laon Fanfic #Kpop Fanfiction #Kpop Fanfic #Kyuhyun Fanfiction #Kyuhyun Fanfic #shin kyuhyun #Bogoshipdayo #Kpop #underrated kpop groups

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tnystrk-exe · 5 years

Text

Learning to Live 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“I’m going to be a ‘venger daddy,” Ro told him over their morning breakfast of Saturday morning cartoons and cereal.

“Are you?”

“Yep! I wanna be like you daddy.” She reached into his bowl and stole his star shaped marshmallows. “I’m gonna fight the monsters and keep you safe like you keep everyone else safe.”

The thought of that made Tony panic. He couldn’t imagine his little girl putting herself on the line. Hypocritical and probably a bit selfish, but the way he saw it, he risked it all so she didn’t have to. “You can be better than me, kiddo.”

Ro looked at him, the most confused look on her face. “But daddy, you’re the bestest! Ever!”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then who? Mommy?”

“Mom is definitely the bestest.”

She moved to sit on his lap, pressing kisses to his cheeks. “You and mommy are the bestest.”

Tony moved their cereal bowls, making sure a mess wasn’t made before, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“I love you with all my heart.” She nuzzled into his shirt, his familiar cologne making her feel safe and warm.

“All of it?” He asked, some wonder leaking into his voice. “You sure?”

“Yeah!” She looked at him, “Daddy, me and the bots have a surprise. You can’t hang out in the lab until we’re done.”

“What?”

“We have a surprise for you. Go to your room Labrat.” Ro stood up, holding her hand out to help him stand up too. Tony complied, letting her drag him up the stairs to his room. “Don’t leave okay? You and Vis can do science with the blue lights.”

Ro ran to her room, finding the miniature Christmas tree she had begged you for, it wasn’t fair that the bots didn’t have a tree and daddy spent all his time there too. She pushed the box down the hallway and rode the box like a sled down the stairs. Repeating the process again to get the lab. “Vis, open the door please?” Dum-E rolled over, picking up the box. “I need to get the decorations but you and U can start taking it all out.”

She ran up both flights of stairs, grabbing the streamers, lights, and baubles. Carefully sneaking past your bed room door. Ro could hear Tony’s snores he must have been tired. She shouldn’t wake him up when he was sleeping, but she always got so excited to hangout with him. Then again she didn’t really know if her dad ever slept.

“I’m back!” She greeted the bots. “Vis drop my needle, please.” No clue what that exactly meant, but her dad said it and music always played afterward.

“Anything miss.” Jingle Bells coming on soon after.

“I’ll put them all on and you guys can put on the decorations. It’s really fun.”

Ro sang along to the songs, the bots watching her put on the fake branches and stretching them out like you and Tony had shown her. “Dum-E I need you to pick me up.” The bot complied, picking her up by her overall straps. She finished up, looking at her work happily. “Perfect! U, come on help big brother with the lights.”

Dum-E let her down and she started to thread the lights before passing it to U. She fit Dum-E with a Santa hat and a tinsel scarf, while the bot waited his turn. “Looks really good guys,” she said, encouragingly, “You’re doing great!”

When they finished off the lights she passed them baubles making sure they grabbed the hangers without trouble. A couple fell and shattered here and there but the crew wasn’t deterred. Dum-E wrapped tinsel around Ro, mimicking what she had done. She giggled in delight when the bot gave her a pat on the head.

“Vis! Let me talk to daddy.” She jumped up and down in excitement, broken baubles crunching under her shoes.

“Patching you through right now.”

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Ro yelled with each jump.

Tony whimpered in his sleep. Someone...something had just torn Ro away from his arms and he couldn’t move to get her. She screamed out for him, her arms reaching out. “Daddy!”

Tony shot up from the bed. His heart thumped against his chest almost painfully, he swiped at the tears on his cheeks. This was happening way too much. “Earth to Labrat, come in Labrat.”

“Hey, sorry, must have fallen asleep,” he tried to sound normal, calming himself down, “Is your surprise ready?”

“Yeah! Come down here already!”

“I’ll be there give me a second.” Tony rubbed his face. He was home. His kid was okay and very excited. You were at work. Repeat until his breathing became less erratic.

Down stairs, U pushed the star to Ro. “You can do it U.” Instead the bot pressed it against her palm. “What about you Dum-E? You wanna put it on?”

In response the older boy picked her up by the overall straps again. Ro giggled loudly, J.A.R.V.I.S. leaked the audio through the home, knowing the severity of Tony’s dreams and how the simple sound could do wonders to calm him down. Tony thanked the A.I. before walking down the steps to the lab. He was greeted by a sight that had terrified him the first go around, but became the norm. Dum-E had dropped many things. Many. But Ro never slipped from his grasp. Though when she had been six months the prospect had been terrifying. Soon enough Tony had attached a swing on the bot to entertain them both during projects he couldn’t stop working on.

Ro was being held up, attempting to get the star to balance on top. “J, take a snapshot of that won’t you?”

“Already have, sir. Multiple pictures have already been uploaded to the album.”

“Can always count on you.” He opened the door to the lab, “Okay, Rugrat what’s the surprise?”

“U! Hit the lights!” The bot plugged in the cord and Ro threw out her hands, “Tada!”

He laughed, the move was very him. Anyone tired of his antics by now wouldn’t know what would hit them come a few more years. “Sweetheart, that looks amazing. The three of you worked on this?” Tony asked, walking over to grab her from the bot still holding her in air. “How did you know I always wanted a tree down here?”

“We did the big big tree and you kissed and hugged me and mommy so much! I think you really loved trees and Dum-E and U needed one too because they can’t play upstairs. Look the hanging thingies are red and gold like you too!”

“You really did that for your old man?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you,” Tony patted both of the bots on their sides, “You three are the perfect team.”

“You love it?”

“I do.”

She smiled pridefully, hugging him tightly.

Ro and Tony had had a peaceful day in the lab with the bots. Later on he drove Ro over the the Herrera’s. The seniors missed the having the little girl around since Tony was home a lot more. Their grandchildren lived too far and Ro had basically been accepted as their grandchild as much as they had been around her. At least their little Christmas sleepover gave him time to take you out on an impromptu date.

You walked down to the lab, Tony was injecting himself in the arm. Probably that armor calling tech he had been talking about. He was taking the time to scold Dum-E and ignore J.A.R.V.I.S. safety briefing. Punching in your code, you walked into the lab.

He gestured to the suits, “Focus up, ladies. Good evening, and welcome to the birthing suit. I'm pleased to announce the imminent arrival of your bouncing, bad-ass, baby brother.” Tony turned on his heel, his eyes landing on you. “Hey, Cupcake. You came down at the perfect time. You’re in for a treat.”

You gave him a wave and leaned against the wall. Sometimes his test didn’t go to plan and like hell you were gonna get hit by a stray piece of suit.

“Start tight and go wide, stamp in time. Mark 42 autonomous prehensile propulsion suit test. Initialize sequence. J.A.R.V.I.S. drop my needle.” He danced, closing his eyes as he let the music hype him up. You laughed, zoning in on his hip movement. “I see you,” he winked at you, “I guess I know what my present will be come Valentine’s Day. What do you say?”

“I’ll look forward to it. Aren’t you going to show me Mark 42 yet?”

“Your wish.” He motioned to activate the suit. The pile in his desk doing nothing to move. “Crap.”

“Performance issues? Don’t worry honey, happens to the best of men.”

“Har, har, har, I’m getting a new girlfriend,” he teased, biting at his arm and hitting it for good measure, “You’ll miss my skills.”

“I’m sure.”

He gestured to the pile of parts. The left gauntlet and shoulder flew on to him. Tony laughed a heartbreakingly beautiful smile on his face when the right gauntlet went on without a hitch. “How’s that for ‘Performance issues’?” He asked smugly, “Alright, I think we got this. Send 'em all.” The left leg came on simply. A piece crashed into the Iron man display, another narrowly missed hitting his face. “Probably a little fast, slow it down. Slow it down just a...little bit.”

You winced as the crotch piece slammed into him, then the back. Even you had to duck to dodge a piece of the suit. Tony was pushed around by the pieces. Finally all that was left was his faceplate. It hovered. “Come on. I ain't scared of you.” The plate rushed toward flipping upside down in the process. Tony flipped to catch it, landing in a pose that would be fit for a poster. “I’m the best,” you heard the mechanical Iron Man voice proclaim.

A piece came loose from the Iron Man display and went crashing into his back. Tony was sent flying Mark 42 splayed around him. You walked over to him helping him up.

“That was a magnificent performance.”

“As always, sir, a great pleasure watching you work.”

You and the A.I. said in unison.

“The both of you have so many jokes.”

You pulled the helmet off of his head. Tony had a small cut running down the side of his mouth. “Let’s go take care of that Iron Man.”

“Are you gonna kiss it to make it feel better? Because the crotch plate really did a number there. It may be a bit bruised, may need some medical attention, don’t ya think Doc?”

“Not in your wildest dreams. Does something smell like it’s burning?”

“Only my burning hot love for you.”

Dum-E waved erratically, trying to the attention of either of you. “You got rid of his fire extinguisher?”

“He kept extinguishing me for fun,” Tony explained grabbing the fire extinguisher from under his work bench, “Doesn’t deserve that kind of power.”

You took it from him and handed it over to the bot, “Don’t listen to him. You’re doing great. Spray him some more for me.”

“Don’t encourage.”

“Come on, it’s too late for our date. Let’s make some food, get in the shower, and go to bed. You can take me out tomorrow.”

“So generous of you, allowing me to take you out.”

Tony allowed you to drag him from his lab and do with him what you wished. He knew you worried about him, he never did anything to exactly remedy the situation. So he’d go through the processes. You had more than enough stress on your plate. It wasn’t any trouble to hold you until you fell asleep or whisper some sweet nothings and earn himself a playful seat for not being quiet and making you laugh when you were so close to sleep.

When your breathing finally evened out he turned on the TV. That was a mistake. Didn’t he wish he had just fallen asleep with you.

The loud beeping of your pager and Sebastian calling your phone was what greeted you in the mornings. That annoying man. You’d caught him in the same position multiple times, but pay back was a bitch.

You got dressed and ready in less than ten minutes. The one of the highlights of moving into the mansion was that leaving Tony’s shaved thirty minutes off your drive. He was a pretty great add on too.

Making your way down to the lab, you found Tony in his usual tinkering position. “I’m sorry, honey, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Again?” He didn’t mean to say that at all. But his sleep deprived brain hadn’t given him time to think about his words.

“Yeah. Again.” Maybe another time you could let the comment pass, but someone’s kid was on the line here. Those always hit closer to home.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“We both have demanding jobs Tony. I don’t have time for this...I’ll see you later.”

“I’m sorry,” he called out after you. Tony sighed, watching you until you disappeared from sight. You’d know later it wasn’t done to purposefully jab at you. Right now you were just rushed and tired. “J, call Rhodey,” he yawned. May as well go on a date with Rhodey instead, he missed his friend.

The pair agreed on a burger joint. Tony was the later party. Mark 42 was being difficult but a test drive was still in need. Being in the air was weird. He felt like king of the clouds when he was up there. Nothing weighed on him it was just him and his suit. No danger. Nowadays there was an uncomfortable pang of panic when he rushed upward. He had learned to avoided test flights at night. They weren’t worth feeling uncomfortable the whole day.

“How’s paradise?” Rhodey asked as Tony took a seat next to him.

“Ro’s good, misses you. I’m fine. YN’s frustrated with me,” he answered giving a quick rundown.

“Tony, you’ve been a frustrating thorn in her side since you met,” he teased, “Shacking up wasn’t going to change that.”

“It’s good though. I like it.”

“The Starkster content and happy with being tied down.” Rhodey patted Tony’s back. “Good for you. I’m happy. You don’t know the intense relief I feel not having to watch and listen to the two of you pine after one another. I was getting absolutely sick of it. My niece was the only thing that kept pulling me back.” He thanked the waitress as she set their plates in front of them.

“Ordered for me? What a gentleman. Anyhow you’d never leave us,” Tony scoffed, his attention turning to the tv. Joan Rivers was mocking the suit’s new look. “I am Iron Patriot,” he mocked, grimacing at the change. The suit didn’t even look cool anymore.

“Listen, War Machine was a little too aggressive, alright? This sends a better message.”

“So what's really goin' on? With Mandarin. Seriously, can we talk about this guy?” He lowed his voice and scooted closer.

“It's classified information, Tony. Okay, there have been nine bombings.” Secrets weren’t exactly safe when it came to the pair.

“Nine..”

“The public only knows about three. Here's the thing, nobody can ID a device. There's no bomb casings.” Tony started to ramble about what he could do, offering different things to help. YN was right to worry about the man. He was pushing himself too and dealing with things on his own again. “When's the last time you got a good night's sleep?”

“Einstein slept three hours a year. Look what he did,” Tony brushed aside Rhodey’s comment. Mind racing on how to solve the Mandarin problem.

“YN is concerned about you, Tony. I'm concerned about you.”

“She...? Of course she did...You're gonna come at me like that?” He asked, looking offended.

“No. No, look, I'm not trying to be a dic...” two kids walking up to the table, drawings in hand, “...tator.”

Tony smiled at the girl and made a comment to the boy that looked like Ralphie Parker. Looking at the drawing of himself during New York, he began to make a simple customized chat bubble asking Erin for help.

“Listen, the Pentagon is scared. After what happened in New York... aliens, come on. They need to look strong. Stopping the Mandarin is priority, but it's not...”

“It's superhero business, I get it.”

“No, it's not, quite frankly. It's American business.”

“That's why I said I...got it.” The crayon broke in his hand. He felt sick. His heart was racing and he couldn’t breath. Covering his face he tried to figure out what was happening. Everything sounded so distant.

That is until, “How did you get out of the worm hole?” It felt like a tidal wave came down over him.

Tony shot up and got out of the restaurant as quickly as he could. He needed his suit. Breathlessly he apologized as he stumbled into people in his way. The suit opened up and he all but fell in. “Check the heart, check the...check the...is it the brain?

The suit was safe. He tried to calm down, but that felt harder than ever. “No sign of cardiac analomy or unusual brain activity.”

“Okay, so I was poisoned?” The only logical thing he could think of.

“My diagnosis is that you've experienced a severe anxiety attack.”

Taking a second to process before responding, “Me?” Rhodey tried to get his attention, but he needed out. Tony had to go home to figure it out.

Out of all of the things....anxiety? He was well to sound egotistical him. There wasn’t a shortage of people that hated him for his loud outburst. Since he was a child he was taught how to control a crowd. Never was he one to fear a fair challenge. Hell in Afghanistan he felt more anger and defiant than anything.

Now. Now it all changed. It flipped on him. There were topics that sent him to panic mode quicker than he ever felt. Dreams that just wouldn’t stop, keeping the memory of something he’d never forget. Each one showing him a different way he could fail to protect the people he cared about.

He needed a drink.

Walking down into the wine cellar, he stowed away the most recent add on to his collection before pouring himself a drink. God, he couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts. At least when Ro was around he had something to keep him grounded. It was a good thing she’d get to come home tomorrow.

Grabbing his phone, he called Happy. It had been a while. The man had quit claiming being Iron Man’s bodyguard was embarrassing and got himself a gig as Head of Security at Stark Industries. He had been a tyrant as described by Pepper.

The call went through, the screen lit up with the man’s forehead. “Is this forehead of Security?”

“What? You know, look, I got a real job. What do you want? I'm working, I got something going on here.”

“What’s going on? Fill me in.” He laughed at the man’s constant annoyance. “How’s being Pepper’s bodyguard?”

“Less stressful than you for one.”

“What can I say? Gotta keep you on your toes. You had some fun, didn’t you? I’m better than any 9 to 5.”

“Alright, so she's meeting up with this scientist. Rich guy, handsome. I couldn't make his face at first, right? You know I'm good with faces. Yeah. Well, so I run his credentials, I make him Aldrich Killian. We actually met the guy back in... where were we in '99? The science conference?”

Tony turned off his auto pilot of responses to think back. More so he was just enjoying Happy’s ramblings. If he was right, he had definitely been hammered but it had to be, “Switzerland...Killian? No, I don't remember that guy.”

“Of course you don't. He's not a blond with a big rack,” Happy answered, rolling his eyes, “At first it was fine, they were talking business, but now it's like getting weird. He's showing her a big brain.”

“His what?”

“Big brain, and she likes it. Here, let me show you. Hold on. See?” Happy held up the tablet pointing it to the pair in the office.

Tony’s view was very much still on the forehead he had become well acquainted with. “Look at what? You watching them? Flip the screen and then we can get started.

“I'm not a tech genius like you. Just...just trust me, get down down here.”

“Flip the screen, then I can see what they're doing,” Tony said, a slight authority slipping into his voice.

“I can't! I don't know how to flip the screen!Don't talk to me like that anymore. You're not my boss. Alright, I don't work for you. Now I don't trust this guy. He's got another guy with him, he's shifty.”

While Happy ranted, Tony pulled up files on Aldrich Killian. “Relax.”

“Seriously?”

“I'm just asking you to secure the perimeter. Tell him to go out for a drink or something?”

“You know what? You should take more of an interest in what's going on here. This is your family legacy. Your business.”

“Pep’s business,” Tony corrected, “I just have a couple of stocks and head R&D. Everything that happens is all Pepper’s ball park. A giant brain?”

“Yeah, there's a giant brain, there's a shifty character. I'm gonna follow this guy. I'm gonna run his plates and if it gets rough, so be it,” Happy said, seemingly working himself up.

“I miss you, Happy.”

“Yeah, I miss you too. But the way it used to be. Now you're off with the 'superfriends' and being Mr. Family Man, I don't know what's going on with you anymore. Ro and YN are good for you, but the rest of it? The world's getting weird...”

“Hey, I...I'd hate to cut you off. Do you have your taser on you?”

“Why?”

“I think there's a gal in HR who's trying to steal some printer ink, you should probably go over there and zap her.” He grabbed a wine bottle from the fridge and filled in the empty slot with his phone. Tony shut the door walking off with Happy still on the line.

Tony didn’t know when you’d finally get back home. So he made himself a quick snack, exercised, and researched the Mandarin attacks. Anything and everything to keep himself from sleeping. While he was at it, he could probably use Mark 42 to pick up some of Ro’s stray toys and get it moving around a bit more. Not too long after J.A.R.V.I.S. announced that you had made it back to the mansion. He made 42 sit on the couch as seductively as it could and waited up for you.

“What’s this?” You asked, laughing in surprise.

Great. You had a success in the O.R.. Tony made the suit tap it’s lap. “Oh, just breaking this new number in. Like it?”

Sighing, you rolled your eyes, but walked over. He always seemed to sooth the stress of your day easier than anyone else. “Aren’t you just ready to pick up the title of trophy?” You sat down on the suits lap. “I’m sorry fo-“ you cut yourself off, “Actually could you at least take off the helmet? I rather look you in the eye when I apologize to you.”

“Uh, can’t do that beautiful. I’m kinda stuck in here. But I can’t say this particular situation has never crossed my mind. Care to research it further?”

“I really rather have you out that shell.” You grabbed the suit’s hand off your hip and got it up, leading it down to the lab.

“Don’t know. I like it in here, it’s cozy.” Once you hit the point in the stairs were you could see into the lab, you let go of the suit’s hand. “Aw, look you made him sad, he liked that.”

“You let me straddle your empty suit.”

“I didn’t do anything. You did that on your own accord.” Tony let go of the pull up bar and took off the head device. “Now, I believe you were saying something.”

“I was gonna apologize for snapping at you, but now you get nothing.”

“It’s okay, I hear you loud and clear, but that was more on me. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that at all. What you do is immensely important and I’m not exactly proud that I even thought it.”

“It’s okay, but if you ever say it again, you just might have to find that other girlfriend you like to joke about. Right now, I’m more than certain I’m all yours for the rest of the day. No interruptions.”

He pulled you over for a quick kiss, “I really mean it, it won’t happen again.”

“I know sweetheart.”

“Now tell me you love me,” He half joked.

You shook your head, “Nope. Never.”

Tony’s smile faltered slightly, “Come on, just say it.”

“Mm, nope, don’t really feel like it.”

He glared at you, “Say it.” Tony kissed you possessively, hoping to sway you.

You laughed when he finally let you back up for air, “You know I love you dork, even if you are fucking annoying sometimes.”

“And I’m gonna annoy you a whole lot more.”

“I’ll look forward to it. Now what’s my date Stark? I was promised one.”

“Hmm...” he thought a moment, “No tech, for me, since you’re freed up. Something out of the way so we don’t get mobbed. You, me, a picnic basket, and a nice view?”

“Anywhere you are is already a beautiful view, especially when you’re walking away.”

Tony stared at you dumb founded before breaking out into a laugh, “Thought the cheap lines were my job? Okay, Cupcake go get out of those scrubs, I’ll make the sandwiches and pack up the basket.”

The two of you got sorted out quickly, pretty soon it was you, Tony, and the open road belting out old favorites at the top of your lungs. Why this had taken the two of you so long neither of you understood, but that’s just the way things happened sometimes. Things were messy and they would probably get messy again. Above everything the you had each other now and that was further than either of you had cared to imagine before.

Tony’s hand squeezed your thigh, he spared a quick glance to smile at you. It took you back to an easier time when it was just the two of you being kids and having fun with one another. No Iron Man. No responsibilities. No thinking fifty steps ahead and hoping you didn’t ruin this little human being the both of you adored. Nothing else except the two of you.

It wasn’t much longer until you reached your old hideaway spot. “We haven’t been here in forever,” you sighed, looking around as Tony set down the blanket.

“Yeah, we really ditched this spot too early. Still looks beautiful.” Tony tugged at your hand, making you sit on his lap. Truth was a small part of him had been jealous of the suit for getting all of the action.

“Imagine living in a place like this? Quiet, out of the way.”

“It’s too out of the way, don’t you think?”

“Maybe when you get tired of the flashing lights and adoring fans. Just having you and Ro sounds nice.”

Tony pressed a kiss to your shoulder, “Maybe. Wouldn’t hurt to see what happens one day.” He looked around, the setting sun making the view just that more lovely. It wasn’t the worst idea.

“How’ve you been honey?”

“Been good, can’t complain. Talked to Happy, met up with Rhodey...” he remembered their conversation, “You’re worried about me?”

You sighed, shifting so that you were face to face with him. “It’s my second job worrying about you,” you joked, tapping your finger against the arc, “You’re not exactly a talker.”

“We’ve talked.”

“I know, but you’re working yourself dry lately Tones and Ro’s said a couple of times now you’ve woken her up after a nightmares... I’m just concerned honey.”

“I hear you baby. I don’t want to make you worry, that’s the last thing I want. Though, I’m not exactly doing well in that area. Have you talked to Rhodey?” He asked, moving a stray lock behind your ear. You just shook your head in response. “Guess this is a good time to start talking...Well, I had a freak out today. These two kids walked up one had a drawing, the other asked about New York and honey I couldn’t think straight. My brain just went in panic mode and breathing seemed near impossible. J, said it was an anxiety attack. Which is ridiculous because, well as narcissistic as it sounds, I’m me.”

“You’ve been though a lot these past few years,” you said softly, taking his sunglasses off of him. “Anyone else in your place by now, who knows where’d they be. You’re strong.”

“I feel so weak.”

“You’re not. Tony if you’re weak I have no clue what strong is.”

He managed a small smile, “Rhodey.”

“Rhodey doesn’t count. That man’s on a whole other level.” You smiled at him, holding his hand in yours. “The point is, Tony, you’re strong. You know it. Every now and then you’re allowed to feel weak, don’t feel ashamed of it. You’re only human.”

“People depend on me. There’s so little between us and whatever’s up there. When something bigger comes, will we be ready? Can I get us ready by then?”

“It’s not all up to you. But you’re gonna take this on like it is, because that’s your nature. You can’t let this eat you alive.”

“You’re right. Obviously. I just can’t figure out to clear my head and move ahead....For now, can this conversation be paused? We haven’t had very many dates as of now and I don’t want this one to just be a therapy session.”

You nodded, knowing he told you as much as he could handle for the moment. “We’ll talk about it later,” you agreed, tracing his jaw lightly, “I’m here for you, through everything.”

His hand caught yours, he brought it up to press a kiss to your palm. “You always are. Do you realize how much you mean to me?”

“I have some idea. Your life kinda sucks when I’m not around.”

“That’s a definitely an understatement. Have you seen the shit that goes on the second you’re busy?” He laughed, “It’s fucking crazy.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard about it all.”

“Even that night when we were nineteen and I was black out drunk? When I tackled that tree.”

You laughed at the memory, it was a bit foggy you had joined his drinking game that night. “Mm, I’m pretty sure a tree got caught on my shirt. You screamed at it to let me go and when it didn’t you tackled that thing with a good running start. It took you a minute but you came back. I think we decided we wanted to eat, so we headed back to the place you rented out. There were cars lined up and you said ‘If I can run over all eight of those, you owe me a kiss’, so you proceeded to try and fell off the third one. Then you fell down a flight of stairs. And that night is exactly why you’re banned from drinking Everclear ever again.”

“And yet you stayed.”

“And yet I stayed. I sure as hell don’t have any regrets, you’ve given me some great stories.”

Tony leaned forward, catching you in a slow kiss. No rush just pure emotion. There wasn’t any doubt that it was you that helped keep him grounded throughout everything. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for defending my honor to that vile tree.”

“And I’d do it again.”

The two of you lulled into quiet conversation filled with reminiscing. It was hard to imagine how long it had been since you’d both been those kids that had met on a boat. As much as you had complained about having to go, you’d be forever grateful for Howard Stark’s mandatory boat trip. The three day cruise gave you someone invaluable to your life.

Hours later, you were curled up to Tony’s side, watching the stars. You stared up, marveling at how beautiful the sky looked when there wasn’t so much going on. Tony stared at you instead. Maybe he could deal with the stars again, one day, but for now you looked more beautiful than they ever could. He noticed you beginning to drift off in his arms.

“Come on baby, it’s time to head home.” Tony pressed a kiss to your head before standing to help you up. He made sure you were situated in the car before packing up the blanket and basket. “You can rest, it’s okay,” he assured you, when you started to wake yourself up.

When Tony pulled up to the home, both of you were ready to drop into bed. Once in the bed room Tony tossed one of his shirts over as he got dressed for bed. You pulled it on and jumped into bed as soon as you were situated. “‘Mere handsome.”

Tony joined you in bed, giving you a final kiss for the night. You fell asleep soon after. Tony, for once that month, actually fell asleep with you instead of sneaking out.

Your dreaming was interrupted when you heard quiet whimpering. “...Ro?” Sleep still diluted your mind until you remembered she wasn’t home. The jolt by your side took you out of your daze. “Tony,” you shook him gently. His quiet whimpers and gasp were the only sound filling the air. The moonlight that trickled in let you see enough that he had been crying. “Tony, honey, it’s just a dream you need to wa-“

The Iron Man armor caught your wrist and flipped you onto your bag, causing you to scream as it glared down at you. Tony stood up assuming the worst. He couldn’t feel anything but shame as he saw what had happened. What he had caused. “Power down!” When it shut off, Tony hit it on the neck, causing the parts to crash onto the floor. “I must have called it in my sleep. That's not supposed to happen. I'll recalibrate the sensors. Can we just...just let me...just let me catch my breath, okay?” He spoke, trying to reassure you through his fear. You stood, running your hands through your hair. Both of you were a mess of short breaths and fear. “Don’t go, please?” His voice sounded so broken.

You sat back down on the bed despite yourself. Yeah, you were scared, but your fear was over the situation had been handled. You were free from having to relive your trauma, the pressure, the guilt he carried, so you stayed and you waited for your heart to stop pounding so hard you could hear it. Tony had his face hidden in his hands, his shoulders shaking. He felt like a failure. Because he needed to feel protected, feel like he could protect his family at every second, he made something that nearly hurt you. Something that could have possibly hurt Ro. It was an accident but it weighed him down.

When you calmed yourself enough to think clearly, you got up and helped him get situated back into bed. Getting back in yourself, you pulled him close, his tears soaking through the shirt he lent you. “Tell me about it.”

“Who gives a fuck about my nightmares?” He said angrily, it was mostly disgust with himself. “It’s the same. Every time. Fucking New York or something else. Me dying I can handle that, it’s the name of the game right? Sometimes my head just gets these vivid pictures of you, Ro, Rhodey, Happy, Pep...and that’s worse that feels like absolute hell. I just want to go back to normal.”

You kissed top of his head, “It’s alright. Okay? We’ll get you there together.”

“YN everything is just shrouded in this layer of panic that I can’t shake,” he admitted, “I get happy, yeah, but as soon as the moment’s over, it’s right back. It’s constant. Just drilling in.”

“I know, I know. We’ll figure it out. Okay, Tony? You’re gonna have better days, we just need to figure out how to help you.”

“I feel like a goddamn monster. How many times is my own head gonna show me our daughter dying.”

“You’re not a monster. What happened was a lot. After Christmas we should get you to a therapist, get help and handle this together.”

“And what if we do that and I’m not the same as before. What if I’m not enough after all of that work? For you? For Ro?” He asked bitterly. “It would be like me to finally reach this with you and my head just...”

“Hey, look at me,” you tilted his chin up, “You’re the man I love. You’re the person our little girl adores more than anyone in this world. Which is really unfair by the way. You’re ours Tony, you’re more than enough in our eyes.”

“I really want to be. Neither of you deserve this.”

“We deserve you. Every part.”

A quiet settled over the room as Tony calmed down. He was grateful to have your arms around him to anchor him to reality. Most nights you were gone, either on the night shift or having been called in. This was the first time you really saw one and he was upset that it went that far. The phone ruined the silence. He suppressed the groan that wanted to come out. All he wanted was to have you around a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized as you reached for the phone, “Hey Seb, you need me?”

I need you, Tony thought selfishly. In whole he earned it.

“Oh god. What happened?” You listened as Sebastian filled you in, “Okay, yeah, we’ll be there.”

Tony lifted his head to look at you curiously when he heard ‘we’. “What happened?” He asked when you hung up, his voice rough.

Fuck this poor man couldn’t catch a break. “There was a bombing. Happy’s in the hospital,” you reduced it, “We need to get dressed and head over there.” You watched the click happen in his eyes, sadness turning to anger.

He had a mission now, a way to release the pent up things tinkering couldn’t suppress. Tony was gonna respect what Rhodey had said, but how could he help if the fight came to him?

Within the hour, you had made it to the hospital. Reporters and paparazzi were already crowding the entrance. Word must have gotten around that Tony Stark would be coming to check on his ex bodyguard. You held his hand and led him in through a secluded employee entrance. He hadn’t spoken a word since you had told him the news. If anything his quiet rage was leagues scarier than the suit’s glare.

Sebastian met with the two of you at the staircase. “He’s stabilized, apparently the closest to the blast, there weren’t any fragments. It’s just like it was a blast, from the sound of it the theater was wrecked. Knuckles on his right hand are bruised could have been from falling but most likely a fight. He asked for you Tony.”

“Yeah. Can we go up there?” Tony asked, needing to see Happy. Just a quick talk to know what had happened.

“You can see him. But he’s not conscious he hit his head pretty hard and the medications he’s on makes it even harder to stay up.”

“I still want to see him.”

Sebastian led you up to the room. Tony walked in and you stayed with Sebastian giving him time alone and reading over Happy’s file. In whole he’d be okay. No physically lasting damages. Looking at Tony, you were reminded about the mental side of things. “Thanks for calling Seb.”

“I figured it would be better for him to hear from you than whoever is on phones tonight.”

“I appreciate that.” You heard the tv turn on and Tony talked on his phone. From the sound of it he was calling in a security team. “You can go do your rounds. You’re good.”

“I’m taking over for you too.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Consider it your early Christmas present, okay? Don’t stress it. Ro’s gonna be upset and her dad needs you. You’re probably stressed to hell and back just with how work has been lately. Take a break, you need it.”

“You’re right there with me,” you told your partner.

“Yeah, that’s true, but I don’t have a family to worry about and I get decent sleep.”

You sighed weighing your options, getting to stay home a bit for now did sound good. “Thanks. What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn,” he laughed, pulling you for a quick hug before leaving.

Tony pulled up files from his tablet, reading everything on the Mandarin. He was going to get the fight he wanted. This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t brushed Happy off. The man asked for help and Tony just made fun of him. He’d make it right, set the record straight.

Everything Tag:

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Learning To Live

| @editsbyjenny | @vesta-ro |

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #reader insert #marvel fanfic #iron man

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queenharumiura · 5 years

Note

💐

Valentine’s Day Meme ||Still accepting||

[to note: as this is a vday meme, there will be a focus on romance. This is going to be more of a theoretical sort of thing given the interactions between the two aren’t much yet, and I’m not very familiar with the series that Rentaro is from. So this is going to be a fun theoretical playlist that will tell a story]

💐: A playlist for our muses

Gift of a friend- Demi Lovato

Scars to your beautiful- Alessia Cara

Human- Christina Perri

Believer- Imagine Dragons

Titanium- David Guetta ft. Sia

Confident- Demi Lovato

Count on me- Bruno Mars

I’m glad you came- The Wanted

Stand by you- Rachel Platten

I will be here- Steven Curtis Chapman

Heartbeat song- Kelly Clarkson

Can’t blame a girl for trying- Sabrina Carpenter

Teardrops on my guitar- Taylor Swift

Just the way you are- Bruno Mars

Give your heart a break- Demi Lovato

Can you feel the love tonight- Elton John

In case you’re curious I have my reasonings and explanation for choosing the songs under the readmore. It’s-- kinda lengthy;;;;;;;;;;;;

Gift of a friend

Haru gets the vibe that Rentaro is more of a loner type,which contrasts her social butterfly type. Haru is very friendly with othersand she’s quite popular in her own right. With his hobby of creature watching andpreferring insects over humans, she has the thought that he spends more of histime alone rather than immersing himself around others like she does.

This song sorta has the vibe of her feelings. She honestly hopesthat she’s wrong about the fact that he’s more of the loner type, since that’slonely. So this song embodies her hopes that he can see her as a friend and shewill try to help him open up and see the other good parts of life. Other peoplearen’t so bad. If you can make a friend out of Haru who is around your age,surely, you’ll be able to find others! Don’t worry! No matter what, Haru willbe by your side.

Scars to your beautiful

In our threads, we’ve both mentioned that Rentaro and Haruboth have crushes on people. Haru has a crush on Tsuna Sawada who… usually doesn’treally see her that way. Haru tries very hard to appeal (a bit too hard, in myopinion) to him, but he only has Kyoko in his eyes. Kyoko is a good friend ofHaru’s, so it’s hard to see that the person she likes won’t look at her themoment her friend Kyoko enters the picture.

Sometimes she’s been pushed away in favor of Kyoko as well,and that certainly would hurt in more ways than one. The way I headcanon Haruis that this has hurt her emotionally and it damaged her self-confidence. Thissong is something that she can relate to. The beginning of the song speaks toher on an emotional level. She feels ignored and hurt, but she doesn’t want toshow her pain. If she does, she doesn’t want for her friend Kyoko to feelsaddened by it. It’s not her fault that Tsuna likes her. After all, Kyoko is awonderful person. Haru is the one that’s lacking, surely.

The later portions of the song shows how she tries to cheerherself up when she’s alone, wallowing in her pain. Haru may be hurt, but inthe end, she’s an optimistic person. She’s got a lot of inner strength and she’llalways try to bring herself back up again. Haru is currently struggling withthese issues with the way I write her.

Human

This song has a slower tempo, and it is more of aself-reflecting song. She can try to hype herself up as much as she wants, andfake her smiles in order to not worry her friends. She can turn on her abilityto fake her happiness to not let anyone know how much she’s hurting. Be thatmachine that only shows what is expected of her, but it’s… tiring. The slow tempofits that tiring mood of hers. She can fake things to not worry her friends,but she’s ultimately only human. She can only hide so much of her hurt. She’sgoing to fall and get hurt, but she still has to try to stand up and be strong.

She does let it slip sometimes when she’s around others who aren’taffiliated with the Vongola, but she still tries to hide that part of her. It’sa part of her character to be positive and energetic. She can’t get down. It’snot like her. She tries to build herself up, and I’m sure her friends try to dothe same—but being ignored or brushed aside can make all that come crumblingdown. She can only take so much before she has to take time to herself and cry.Afterwards, she always builds herself back up again. The previous song is agood fit for that. This song I put lower on the list, because I feel this songshows better how continuous hurt and faking can tire you out. You start to loseenergy. Sometimes, you may start to lose yourself—like how she needs to be likea machine. Haru really doesn’t like to hurt people, so she would hate to makeanyone feel guilty because of her hurt, so she’d try to hide it as much as possible.

Believer

For some reason, I feel like this song works really well to representHaru’s frustrations. It gets really irritating after a while to be bogged downby negative feelings. Even more so annoying when you’re trying to hide thesevery feelings of yours.

I think that she feels that Rentaro is a bit of alike-minded soul, and she feels more comfortable around him to be honest withherself. I will go more in depth about it with a future song [“confident”], butI feel like after becoming friends with Rentaro, she really starts to realizehow FRUSTRATED she is. She’s upset about the way things have been and the waythings are. She needs to do better, and surely she can. She can believe thatshe can do better when she realizes that she’s so much more than she was madeto feel. The song kinda feels lowkey powerful, like Haru is now standing up andfighting for her own self. She’s going to move past the slow sadness and justfight to better herself again. She’s going to HEAL.

Titanium

A bit odd, but this song is actually a song about Haruagainst Haru. With the lyrics, it sounds like some person is attacking thesinger. In Haru’s case, it’s herself. Her self-deprecative feelings that criticizesher for her past mistakes and her not being good enough. She’s already resolvedto heal from her one-sided feeling with Tsuna, and she wants to build herselfto be strong like TITANIUM. Her thoughts can attack her all she wants, but shewill use that to fuel her desire to recover. No matter how much her thoughtsscream at her, she wants to believe she can get better. She’s WORTH something.

As she works on this process, she will learn to getstronger. She won’t fall back into those dark thoughts. She will learn to standup and be strong against anything- even figurative bullets. It’s going to be atough battle, but she will do this. She has to. The song is more upbeat and Ithink it fits well as if it musically depicts her will power for her ownbetterment.

Confident

I think this song is a good transition song that shows howHaru is starting to gain her confidence back. Having a friend who shares someof her hobbies and has a good opinion of her is very enlightening. Haru is very…passionate, and she definitely comes off as strong when she loves someone. Ilove Haru but I have to admit that. She is young so she may not know better,but she does lay it on strong. This is one of the reasons she gets pushed awaya lot, understandably so. That being said, she also got pushed away for justsaying hi because Tsuna didn’t want Kyoko getting the wrong idea. (trivia: that’swhy Haru was sensitive to the fact that she didn’t want to cause anymisunderstandings on Rentaro’s side for the Vday thing)

She is very hyperactive and a lil… on the zany side. Thissometimes either gets her in trouble, or judged by those around her. She isnormally shown not particularly caring for what others think, but I think that’smostly just her being a bit naïve. There were canon instances where her effortsweren’t appreciated, or were sort of brushed off. There are also instanceswhere she may get a ‘cold’ reception for something she does, but when Kyokodoes the same thing, suddenly the reception changes. I find it prettyhypocritical, but they are young kids here, so I get it. Still, I don’t thinkthat won’t hurt Haru. That would hurt you on a confidence level.

Like why is it that I can’t do the same thing as her? It’sthat kind of mentality. Even in the last chapter Haru finally confronted him aboutit like do you even look at Haru? Sadly, she went back to being in love withhim QuQ. I think it’s heavily hinted that Kyoko likes him back so--- I cry forHaru. So that’s essentially why I headcanon for Haru to have these feelings andpain. I personally think that Rentaro would be a good influence on her. Someonewho can appreciate her hobbies and truly appreciates her efforts. He doesn’tfind her annoying or useless [another thing she worries about].

I think befriending him helped her remember that there is moreto her than she knows. There are people who can appreciate her and think wellof her. I’m going off on a limb her and will guess that he’d accept her and herweird quirks. He thought well of her dreams of being a housewife but also beinga world-class costume maker. The fact he didn’t make fun of that and even saidsomething positive about it, really meant a lot to her. She does sometimes getmade into a butt of a joke in canon for her thoughts so I think that would be apositive thing for her. So, this song represents how she starts to truly loveherself again and remember how to be confident. Just because Tsuna didn’t payher any true attention, that doesn’t mean she’s worthless.

[Extra, but another reason why I feel like she’d feel lowkeyworth less than Kyoko is because aside from Tsuna, others pay more attention toKyoko. She’s the school idol, and she’s also the younger sister of one of the mainmembers of the Vongola. Not only that, it’s painfully obvious who Tsuna (theboss) likes, so others tend to pay more attention to her because of it.Essentially like a bias(?), and it doesn’t help that everyone goes to the sameschool except for Haru. She’s almost an outsider who somehow managed to wormher way into their friendship circle. So, Kyoko has a big advantage here, andshe doesn’t really have much. Most of what she does, it’s usually also paralleledwith Kyoko.]

Count on me

Haru is a very dedicated and loyal person. Once you becomeher friend, she is more than willing to help. Canonically, it’s been seen thatshe’s willing to risk herself for the sake of her friends. She can be ratherrash, but it shows that she’s someone who cares a lot for others, sometimes evenif it could be to the detriment of herself. From what I’ve read in our threadso far, I get the vibe that while Rentaro doesn’t seem to mesh well with otherpeople (of his age group) very well, he’s kind and caring to those he caresfor.

He’s got a sense of responsibility if him making food forothers means anything. The way he wouldn’t take advantage of Haru’s kindnessalso shows that there is a moral backbone that stems from justice. From this, Ifeel this song fits the two of them as I feel that Rentaro may reciprocate someof Haru’s feelings here. If she’s a dedicated friend who is willing to alwaysbe there for him, he likely would return the favor? If I’m wrong (sorry!),consider the song to be Haru’s one-sided feelings then. She’s a very dedicatedfriend.

Being that he’s helped her heal (whether he knows it ornot), Haru would feel very inclined to be supportive of him. She’s the type ofperson who would die for her friends, and Rentaro would also fit into thiscategory. Essentially, this song, you can say, primarily notes Haru’s wishesfor him to count on her. She wants to help him like he did for her.

I’m glad you came

I know that this song sounds more romantic but HEAR ME OUT,FRIEND. This song more accurately can be used to explain Haru’s feelings ofgratefulness. She’s truly grateful over the fact that Rentaro came into herlife and became her friend. To her, it’s amazing how things have changed in herlife for the better. I really like how the song starts out slow, but then itgets fast paced. It’s almost symbolic of how Haru’s mental/emotional state wasbefore and then after he came into her life.

She loves spending time with him, and she hopes that he doesn’tregret becoming her friend. Hopefully they can stay friends for a long time. Nomatter how much time passes, she’ll always be grateful towards him, and she’sso happy that he came into her life. This song is one of thanks. He truly didchange her universe (the emotional one).

Stand by you [&] I will be here

I liked both of these songs, since I think it can fit Haru’sfeelings of wanting to be a source of support for him as well, like he was forher. If he ever feels hurt by something, she wants to be there for him tosupport him. Maybe life is being tough on him, or maybe something is going onwith the crush of his. If he needs someone to talk to, she will be there forhim. Whatever he needs, she wants to do her best to help him in any way she can.Ignore the fact that the songs sound romantic. Just focus on the ‘I will bethere for you’ aspect of the songs. Shhhhhh. At this point, I don’t think Haruhas realized any romantic feelings yet. She thinks of it all in terms ofgratefulness.

Heartbeat song

LOL okay but—I found this song and I found it rather funny.Like with the beginning where there is a lyric like: ‘You, where the hell didyou come from? You’re a different, different kind of fun, and I’m so used tofeeling numb” had me like—Haru suddenly realizing “WAIT—what is this. What arethese feelings? Am I--?? Do I--? OMG I caught the feelings TM” It’s interestinghow crushes and love works. Sometimes it seemingly comes out of no wherebecause you didn’t realize it, or you were in denial. I feel that over time asthey spend more time together, Haru will eventually come to have feelings forRentaro—romantic ones that stem from gratefulness.

“This is my heartbeat song and I’m gonna play it. Been so long,I forgot how to turn it up up up up all night long.” These are the very firstlyrics and I think it’s great symbolism of how Haru forgot about how it felt tofeel in love for a moment and she forgot how to work with these feelings ofhers. So, this is basically a ‘HOLY CRAP- I CAUGHT FEELINGS’ sort of song. Lol Sorry,as soon as I found it, I needed to add it to this playlist. It’s not verydeep;;;;;

Can’t blame a girl for trying

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; So this song sounds prettyupbeat and kinda… funny to me? To me, this song sings about how Haru isderisively judging herself now that she’s accepted the fact that she likesRentaro. Like mentioned previously… Haru is… uh… passionate. She’s very… yeah…when she likes someone. So this song is about how she feels like this isn’tgoing to end very well because she’s dumb af. She can be her worst enemybecause of how passionate she is. Why didn’t she just keep quiet? What if shecares him away with how passionate she can be? To put it simply, this is literallya song of her worries that now that she realized she likes him, he’s going toend up scaring him away. Whoops. Even so, she can’t really blame herself fortrying. She’s a go-getter type and she knows it. OTL

Teardrops on my guitar

Haru is a person who loves to talk about love, so I’m surethat during their friendship, she would have asked many times about the personRentaro likes. She’s already talked about Tsuna a couple times in our threads,so you know that Haru is not shy about talking about love. She would definitelyask him about the girl he has a crush on.

IF he would tell her about her, Haru would support him asmuch as she can. Give him advice and all that. When she finally realizes herfeelings for him, then it’s like—oh no. I already resolved to be supportive ofmy friend. So it’s like – I gotta be supportive, but at the same time--- OUCH.So she’s pretty jealous about the person that he likes, but there isn’t afeeling of hatred. Rentaro is a good person, so surely the person he likes willequally be a great person.

If she makes him happy, she’d happily congratulate them. Ifhe’s happy, she’ll smile and hope for the best. So yeah, this song is aboutconflicted feelings, I guess?

Just the way you are

Yo—Haru is that kinda person who accepts almost everythingabout the person she likes. Hm? Yep, ignore the pronouns of the song. This isHARU’S song about Rentaro. She would totally be like ‘oh wow you did a thing.Amazing! You’re so wonderful!’ I guess you could say she gets blinded by lovelol. She’s not very judgmental that way. If she falls in love with someone, sheaccepts them for what they are. She will learn to love everything about them.

HOWEVER, like seen in the case with Tsuna in one instance,she WILL drop you like a hat if you do something that she can’t morally agreewith. In canon, there was a misunderstanding, and Haru thought that Tsunabecame a person who abused children. This is something that Haru would NEVERstand for. Children are innocent and she believes that they should beprotected. She’s very protective of children, so the moment she thought he wasabusing kids, she was more than ready to drop him like a hot rock.

Other than that, she doesn’t care. He’s famous for being a ‘nogood’ guy with little talents, and he’s not particularly known for any goodlooks either. Still, she was always very supportive and loving towards him. Shethinks that he’s an amazing person because she looks at the inside. Assumingthat Rentaro is a good and morally standing person, she truly would likeeverything about Rentaro. No matter what, she wouldn’t want anything to change,because love is about learning to accept someone and also compromise. Love isn’twhen you try to change someone to suit YOUR needs or preferences.

If you are going to change someone, you do it because youthink it will make them into a better person. I wholeheartedly feel that Haruwould agree with that statement. As such, this song is pretty accurate to how Harufeels when she falls in love with someone.

Give your heart a break

//MASSIVE SWEAT, okay so like—I don’t know much about the mediathat Rentaro is from, so I actually have no idea what his relationship is likewith his crush. I’ve no idea if they are canon or what—but because this is aValentine’s day meme--- I’m going off the premise that things didn’t work outbetween Rentaro and his crush. Sorry Rentaro;;;;;;; I’m rooting for you,honestly.

Now being serious here, let’s pretend there is a bit omissionhere. Going off the idea that things didn’t work out for Rentaro with hiscrush, Haru would in theory try to help him feel better about it by supportinghim the best she could.

He would need his own time to recover from the failure, andhe’d need his own time to notice Haru. I will not try to assume I would knowenough about him to choose songs about his POV, therefore this playlist willhave a big empty space.

All because Haru knows how it feels to not have your lovereciprocated, she’d heartedly support him. She wouldn’t take this time to tryto get him to like her. Heartbreak really hurts, and she won’t do something socowardly as to use the situation to her benefit. Haru’s really the sort to tryher best to help people, and she normally doesn’t even think about HERSELF. Thisis a girl who was more than willing to risk her life to escape from a safetyzone to try to find medicine to help a child who was very sick.

This is also the girl who was willing to fall to her deathif it meant that her two other friends wouldn’t fall with her. She was morethan willing to die for their sakes. There was little to no hesitation there. Whenher loved ones are in danger, she won’t even consider herself and she’ll do allthat she can for their benefit.

In canon, in a future arc, Haru did her best to be strong,to not allow her fear to show. She’d cry and be afraid in secrecy as to notbother the guys who were busy training for an upcoming battle. Even though shewanted nothing more than to tell them to not fight, she knew it would breaktheir resolve. She and Kyoko both had to hold back and tell them to do theirbest and to please come back safely. It’s not easy having to be thrust into adangerous situation and keep your own feelings hidden. Both girls had to remainstrong and try to be calm for their sakes.

When being told the truth about how dangerous theirsituation is, she purposefully brushed it off so she wouldn’t worry Tsuna. Shedidn’t want to start panicking at that moment or whatever because that’s notgood. It would put more of a burden on him. Instead, she walked away, and endedup crying to someone else. She mainly felt ashamed of herself for beingselfish. For context, Haru and Kyoko had gone on a strike, saying they wouldn’tcook or clean until they were told about what was going on.

On one hand it’s selfish, but in my opinion, it was theirright to know. They were suddenly thrown into a chaotic future where friendsand families were dead. In some cases, they didn’t know whether the missingpeople were still alive or not. The guys are training hard, always coming backbattered and hurt. During all of this, they were told nothing. Nothing. That’sunfair to them when they were dragged into the situation due to associationwith them. They deserved to know the truth, regardless of how scary the truthis.

They wanted to know, and so they went on strike. After beingtold the truth, Haru cried for her selfish feelings. The guys were going throughso much, but the girls selfishly went on strike because they wanted to know thetruth. She cried over this. I think this really goes to show how she tends toprioritize other people over herself with how she felt ashamed of herself. Understandablya strike is pretty intense, but they were so unwilling to tell the truth andwhen you’re caught in such a crazy environment, you’ll want to know what’sgoing on. Families are missing, friends are dead, they have to live in hiding,etc.

Not telling them the truth when they actually wanted to knowis cruel in my opinion. Sorry for the tangent, but essentially—Haru isn’t thetype to use that situation to her advantage in my opinion of her charactertype.

So I think somewhere down the line, maybe they both start torealize they have feelings for each other, but they hesitate. They haverecently recovered from heartbreak, but can they move on?

With the way I think this story plays out, they both helpedeach other with their own heart break, so they have an understanding of theother person and their pain. I think that this song is excellent in meaning. Neitherof them wants to hurt the other. They know how hurt the other was, and by what.They wouldn’t do the same things to hurt them.

Both would likely think about the other “let me give yourheart a break” because I’ll treat you right. I can treat you better than theperson who hurt you.

Can you feel the love tonight?

This is already super long, so I’m going to make this onethe last one. Arbitrarily I chose a song about how they decided to reciprocatetheir feelings for each other. Basically, a love song. It’s the last song andfinally it’s a love song lol.

Even if it is, it’s Disney. I’m sorry to be corny. I just… Ilove Disney. Forgive me. I think I chose it because it’s a cute song, but alsobecause I somehow can imagine them watching Disney movies together. Simpledates are great, please. Watching Disney together is great, please. Who doesn’tlove Lion King? Look Rentaro, you can animal watch. OTL||||||||||

I really tried to find a song that I felt would work to endthings off but it’s really hard? Trying to find a good duet song is HARD. I’vealready been working on this for over 3 hours and I’m tired QuQ Sorry for thelackluster ending. //sobs

-----------

Haha this was pretty long, and I’m sorry about that. I justget really heated about explaining my thoughts and I love to go into deep thinkingabout stuff. That’s why I ended up writing so much about this, because therewas so much to consider. If you read this, I hope it was an interesting read! Itried not to talk too much about Rentaro since I don’t have a good understandingof him. I was kinda just going off lil hunches based off what little I know of him.If this is very wrong, just consider this some weird AU ahahahha;;;;;;;;

I hope the playlist I made is good enough. Sorry if it wasn’t. QuQ

#Rentarc #Answered ask #thanks for the ask!#Neo speaks #Meme answered #((Hope this is good!))#((Sorry for taking so long-- I ended up taking this way too seriously whoops))

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huntertales · 5 years

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Part Two: Innocent Until Proven Guilty. (Man’s Best Friend With Benefits S08E15)

Episode Summary: A police offer, who turned to witchcraft after working a case with Sam and Dean, is plagued with nightmares in which he murders innocent people. It’s up to the Winchesters and the reader to find out of if someone is controlling him, or he’s the one doing the killings himself. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader. Word Count: 6,076.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

"You had no right to do this."

"I was afraid for your life!"

The next morning you found yourself sitting on James Frampton's couch and doing anything you could to try and occupy your time by twiddling your thumbs in your lap. And not eavesdrop on the heated argument between the duo in the room across the house. From the sound of their voices, you had a feeling they weren't on the same page with how to handle this situation. And it wasn't going to be resolved anytime soon for that matter.

You looked over at Sam who was sitting next to you, wondering if he was feeling awkward as you were from how things seemed to be progressing downwards. Dean sat in the armchair next to his brother and was intensely listening to every word he could catch. The reason why you were here in the first place was to try and help, but it seemed James didn't like what his...partner had done. A couple of hunters was bad as dragging the cops into this. Portia was only trying to help the man she cared deeply for, James didn't sound the least bit thankful.

"My life is none of their business!"

You winced at how James' voice grew louder than Portia's before she could try and defend her actions that she had done, making it clear the argument was over. A few moments later you heard the sound of nails tapping against the wooden floors, Portia went running out of the room she was in with James, shifting from her human to dog persona. You furrowed your brow slightly from how odd all of this felt. Sam titled his head to the side while Dean waved and smiled at the dog staring back at all of you, trying to be polite. She let out a bark before running along.

After Portia ran off to go wherever someone like her did, you saw the man of the hour himself—James Frampton. You weren't sure what to expect from a cop who turned to witchcraft. He seemed like someone who was suffering from lack of sleep at how disheveled he look from his clothing to his lack of personal care. And James felt like he was the type of person who took pride in how he looked. All though you overheard his complaints about you and the boys being here, you made a better first impression when the both of you made eye contact after James spotted two familiar faces and wondered who the third one was. You pushed yourself up to your feet when the boys did when James approached all of you.

"Sam, Dean." James greeted the two men in a casual tone, knowing this visit wasn't for a run into town to say hello. He nodded his head to acknowledge their presence. You stood up a little straighter and gave the man a polite smile when you saw his gaze linger back on to you. He furrowed his brow slightly, as if he was trying to wrack his brain to figure out if the both of you crossed paths before. "I don't believe we've met."

"James, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Our long-time hunting partner and family friend. Y/N, this is James Frampton." Dean was the one who introduced the both of you, wanting to get formalities out of the way before getting down to the reason why all of you were here in the first place. The man dropped the welcome wagon act and to a serious sort of expression. "Witchcraft James? Really? What the hell are you thinking?"

"You come to help or pile on?" James asked, seeming too exhausted to want to hear a lecture from the hunter about his life choices.

"I'm just saying," Dean said, pretending to mean well from what he was warning the man about the forces he was messing with. He might be able to do good here and there, but it was only a matter of time until things backfired. And from what you heard from Portia last night, it was already starting. "You screw with that stuff, you're gonna fry your wiring."

"All right. Look," Sam spoke up before this conversation could turn into another argument. He decided to get both men back on track to the reason why all of you were here in the first place. "Why don't you tell about these dreams? She said people were dying in them."

"'Dying'? They were torn to bits. I, uh," James rubbed his face with his hand to get himself to focus long enough to tell you the nitty gritty details Portia spruced up to make it sound nicer. "I could feel my fingers ripping into their flesh."

You grimaced at the thought of a mere experience that you were fortunate enough to have never experienced. During your lifetime there was enough moments where you had done alls sorts of terrible things that haunted you to this very day. Mostly it was when you weren’t behind the wheel of your own body. However, the mind was a tricky little thing. You also had plenty of horrifying experiences just be a figment of your imagination. "But they were dreams?"

"Well, I, uh, woke up in my bed." James said. It sounded like that was the only thing he knew for sure. Sam nodded his head slowly, repeating what you had thought all of it sounded as what it was—dreams. James wasn't as confident all of this was simple as his wild imagination playing a little trick on him with vivid nightmares. "I'm not so sure."

“Not helping, James.” Dean reminded the man of who he was talking to. You wanted to believe that the cop turned witch was the victim in all of this. But the more he talked, the more guilty he was starting to look. And James was just getting started on the truth he was about to tell you.

“Those people—they died.” He said. “ I checked with the precinct.”

You let out a quiet sigh from the bit of information that made what was going on too real for all of this to be some kind of coincidence. Dean looked over at his brother to shoot him a sort of 'I told you so' look. Sam still wasn't convinced that James was at fault for all of this. He was innocent until proven guilty. "All right, well," Sam said, trying to make sense of how this could be explained without pointing the finger at James. "Maybe you heard it, and it stuck in your head."

"You don't think I told myself all that? You don't think I didn't say, 'That wasn't me. I couldn't have done such a thing'?" James asked. He walked over to his fireplace and bent down to grab something from what looked to be a gym bag. You saw him pull out something in a clear plastic bag and pull it out to reveal a silk white button up shirt. Your face fell in surprise when you saw the blood stains soaked into the fabric. You noticed there was what seemed to be initials in the breast pocket of the button up, JMF. You knew it belonged to him, but you had to ask out of politeness. "James Martin Frampton.”

James threw the shirt to the coffee table and took a seat on the armchair, knowing the bloody shirt was enough evidence alone to make him feel guilty. There was no other explanation as to how the blood got on his shirt. He covered his face with a hand, the situation was all too much for him to handle. "What's happening to me?"

“How about this,” Dean said, trying to come up with a theory that sounded like it might make sense. You and the boys took a seat back down and tried to help the man figure out what might be going on here. "You pissed off another witch, and he or she hexed you and forced you to…”

“It’s possible, I suppose,” James said. “But I never heard of it.”

“How many of these dreams have you had?” You asked the man.

"Four. The most recent one is last night." James said. You didn't like what you were hearing. All the evidence was pointing in the direction of James being the guilty party with the blood of four innocent people on his hands. "It was a blind man. I, uh, I was choking him, and..."

"All right, James, we're gonna help you figure this out," You reassured the man. You were slightly skeptical about what you were dealing with here, but you would feel like a hypocrite not to lend out a helping hand to someone who was doing disastrous things that was out of their control. And it meant things were about to get a little uncomfortable for him while you and the boys looked deeper into this. "But you're gonna have to do your part."

“Which is?” James asked.

You looked over at the older Winchester for him to get out what was going to help James out of trouble. Dean leaned over slightly in his chair and grabbed the duffel bag he brought with him and dropped it down to the coffee table with a heavy thud. Dean unzipped the bag to reveal a intimidating set of heavy iron chains, the only thing that could keep someone powerful as a witch under lock and eye until you figured what was going on. "You're gonna have to stay put. House arrest, my friend."

+ + +

While James was spending the rest of his day locked up in his house like a prisoner, you busied yourself by searching up the four victims that were all connected together by surfacing in James' dreams in the style of how they were murdered by his own hands. You made the wrongful choice of going through crime scene photographs to see what you were dealing with. All though you weren’t the squeamish type and it took a lot to make you feel a little queasy, the pictures mixed with the lingering morning sickness that was still lingering into the afternoon made you eye the bathroom every so often, just in case you needed to make a run for it.

The brothers were out running around town collecting ingredients you would need to solve this problem you were having. What it was and who was causing all these murders was still to be answered. When you finally did find out who it was, you needed a way to stop them before they hurt someone else. The only witch you personally hunted was a coven of housewives who were secretly selling their soul to a demon for mediocre things. You were dealing with a witch who was the real deal and attained magic from other sources, which meant they weren't going to be taken down with a simple weapons. Every monster had a weakness, even people who used and manipulated forces they really didn’t understand.

You moved your gaze away from the laptop screen when you heard the lock to the motel door started to lift back, and a second later revealing Dean carrying a crumpled paper bag. You gave the man a smile and greeted him with a simple hey before returning back to your research, wanting to finish the article you found before finding out if their trip was successful. From the looks of it, Dean found everything all of you would need, which made your life a little bit easier. You just needed to find the person to use the spell on.

“Got the last of it.” Dean informed you. He yanked the motel room key out of the lock and slammed the door shut from behind him, heading over to the table so he could dump out the ingredients to the table with the rest of the stuff.

“Good. While you were gone, I’ve been looking at the crime scene reports, and they are exactly the same as James told us—vics, dates, location.“ You said, pushing yourself back up to a more comfortable sitting position and crossed your legs together. You reached out a hand to grab the laptop and pull it closer to you. Out of habit, your other one rested against your stomach while you continued talking. "The most recent one was the blind man, just like he said."

“That’s not good.” Dean said, knowing none of this wasn’t going in the direction of James’ favor.

“Also, I looked into his record on the force.” You said. There was more to this situation than you realized. It seemed your cop turned witch was using his powers for good. “He went from rookie detective to lieutenant basically overnight, and in the last four years, his solve rate’s been right at about one hundred percent.”

“Of course. He’s got the booga-booga on his side.” Dean said. You chuckled quietly to yourself at the remark and went back to your research for a moment. Dean shrugged off his jacket and threw it to a nearby chair. He looked over the ingredients that he’d been collecting all afternoon after finding ones that none of you had in the Impala. “Sweetheart, you know that we’ve never actually seen this witch-killing spell of Bobby’s work, right? I mean, this is not a sure thing.”

"Is there anything we ever do a sure thing?” You asked with a small smile, wondering what was making him feel so hesitant all of a sudden on this plan.

“Well, no, but I would just like to have the odds in our favor as much as possible.” Dean said. You furrowed your brow slightly from the way he was acting. You knew that Dean was hesitant before taking on this case out of the fact that he wasn’t sure what all of you were getting yourselves into. Now that he knew there was innocent people dying, he should have been more focused than ever trying to find a stop to like this always. Using a new technique was always a risky thing, but it never bothered Dean much. You gave him a confused look as to what really brought up this behavior. “Well, I’m concerned.”

Dean was the type of person who didn’t like to dance around a topic and make it more of a big deal out of it, he would rather tell you to your face than send mixed signals. But he also could be sarcastic and sneaky about things that were more of a serious nature. Or about things that bothered him. You knew how to take a hint when you saw one, and Dean couldn’t have been anymore blunt even if he tried. He might as well just told you straight out what he really wanted to say. You felt your lips stretch into a smile as you slowly shook your head.

"Concerned about the witch-killing spell..." You pretended to wonder if that's what he was talking about, or the subject that you thought was going to be brought up when you weren’t dealing with more pressing matters at the moment. If he wanted to bring it up, you were more than happy to talk about it. "...Or that I'm gonna mess these trials up?"

Dean place down the glass bottle he was fiddling around with and let out a sigh, knowing that was exactly on his mind. It had only been a few days since he learned that he was going to be a father after you had weeks to mentally prepare yourself for this new responsibility that would be here in the matter of months. But it was what you were doing on top that you knew about before all of this that happened that was getting him the most worried. You were running into uncharted territories without a single clue of what you were doing. That was nerve wracking enough, and on top of it all, you had a bystander along for the ride.

“Look, we get too far down the road with this,” Dean approached the subject in a calm voice, knowing things were about to take a detour down a road you hated to hear. You rolled your eyes in annoyance before you heard any more of what he had to say. “We can’t go back, and it’ll be too late for me to jump in.”

What the both of you were approaching was a minefield of different topics that you had yet to really talk about. He was stuck in the process of now while you were thinking about the after, what things were going to be like when these trials were complete and the baby was here for good. "You know, maybe I'll actually pull this one off. Maybe it'll end somewhat okay."

"I'm just trying to be realistic here, Y/N. Most of these things don't. And I'm speaking from past experience." Dean said. You narrowed your eyes on him from what he was bringing up. Emma and Ben, his past life that he tried to live. His insecurities that he thought was going to repeat all over again. "Besides, you're not exactly going to be in fighting shape for much longer. I’m just saying what I’m thinking. You want us to have that healthy-sharing relationship. So here you go.”

“I know what you're saying, Dean. You've said it. Hell, you showed me how you really felt about it when I told you." You found yourself hitting a little below the belt from what you brought up, knowing well enough that it was something Dean apologized for. But you still had to admit you were hurt from his first reaction. And you felt his behavior was brought on by something more. "You know, I've been going over this and over this, and asking myself 'Why doesn't he think I can do this? Is it because I’m pregnant? Or because he thinks I'm not capable?' And it finally occurred to me.”

Dean was listening to every word you had to say. He never wanted to shut you out and pretend he didn't care for what you were thinking. Part of what he learned while being in a relationship with you was that communication was key. Even if it was things he didn't want to hear. “You think these kind of problems can be solved when

the one who does it. You can't be a team player. Not because you want the glory. Because you think these things are gonna end up one way. And you say you’re on board with the baby. And I know I haven’t given you a lot of time to process, but you’re treating me like have no idea what I’m doing. Like..." You felt yourself inhaling a deep breath from the example you were going to use, knowing you were about to bring up a subject you didn't like to talk about. "Like I'm going to end up like everyone else.”

You didn't need to mention any names for Dean to figure out who you were talking about; the people who he lost in the past that were a family he tried to have. Lisa and Ben were the first thing that came to mind. They were the best case scenario for how his unfortunate luck turned out. Little Bobby John was a temporary person in your lives, but he made an impact that changed Dean's perspective on things. The most recent tragedy was Emma who was born out of a one night stand. A monster who had to be killed by her uncle before she tried to end both of the brothers’ lives. And the person who might be the root to all of his issues since a child, Mary.

Dean's mother was the woman who did everything she could to get a normal life and make sure her children were raised without knowing the dangers like she had. She tried so hard, until all of her plans were unraveled one night after making a deal with a demon and selling out her youngest son without realizing it. All though she paid the price as well years later, her family didn't end up the way she imagined. Her husband turned into an obsessed bastard and fell into the trap of the life she tried leaving and her children were raised the same. Paranoid, broken, and afraid no sort of good could ever come to them without someone paying the price.

It had only been a few days since you broke the news and Dean was still trying to process this, but you were growing frustrated with him. Not at the pace he was trying to comprehend the news that he was becoming a father, but because of what you were doing to try and protect your unborn child. In a way you were doing the same thing Mary and your own mother had. You were going up against hell and all of its demons. It wasn't only the child who was going to pay the price if something went wrong, but the mother as well. Unlike the both of them, you weren't looking for a chance to sell your soul for a normal life. You were trying to break the cycle once and for all.

"I told you I was on board with this. Every step of the way." Dean reminded you. You raised your brow slightly, wondering which part he meant by that. He rolled his eyes in frustration, suddenly wanting to be done with this topic once and for all. "Are we gonna keep arguing about the same crap? Or are we gonna bury it and be done?"

"I'm done if you're done." You responded a little too quickly after he spoke.

Dean took a few steps back to the table and picked up the empty bottle once more to examine it, you directed your attention back to the laptop. He waited for you to take a breather before he spoke up again, going back to the more important topic at the moment. "You know, once I get this put together, we can't hesitate. If we got to use it, we use it."

"You mean if we find the witch who's doing this to James?" You asked, wondering if he was thinking in the direction you were.

"Or," Dean found himself being backed into a corner when he was starting to figure out that not everyone was thinking on the same wavelength of what the right thing to do was. He didn't raise his voice, he didn't make any sarcastic remarks like he normally did. He stated the possibility in a calm manner. "There is no other witch."

"Look, I like James as much as the next guy, but people are getting ganked here. Besides, Benny and Kate—they were forced to be what they are." Dean said. "James chose this."

You knew deep down he was right about this. Sometimes people didn't choose to be monsters, they were turned against their will by people for all sorts of different reasons—love, revenge. Other times people went to the dark side for the hell of it. In James' case he turned to witchcraft because he thought it would make his job better. And while it had, there was consequences. Messing with dark forces like this could make anyone go crazy and forgot the line between right and wrong. You clicked out of the tabs and shut your laptop. You always wanted to look for the best in people, considering your life turned out exactly like Benny and Kate. You always tried to do good like James, but it ended with your soul turning a little darker. And while you tried to do the right thing...sometimes it ended with people getting hurt.

+ + +

Normal, everyday people had their clubs and bars to enjoy themselves and relax. Witches and supernatural beings alike had their own retreats as well from humans. It was the perfect place to rub elbows with people who you normally hunted. A little white lie was enough to grant you access to the exclusive club, along with the help of Portia to give you a few pointers to fit in. You and her didn't get off on the right foot (or paw, Dean would say) but the both of you had the common interest in finding out what was going on with James. You still weren’t convinced just yet he was the one who was committing all these murders.

On the outside, it looked nothing more than a rundown and abandoned building. There was no amount of curb appeal that would make you willingly go into this place for a drink. It was when you stepped inside in which your opinion about the place changed, it was as if you were walking into a completely different building from the one you stepped into. You walked the halls of this high end club, with creatures that you swear were looking down at you. You swore everyone that you passed by gave you a disapproving glare. For a moment you wondered if they knew who you who you were, but they didn't have enough instinct to figure it out all the way. It seemed the judgmental stares weren't directed just towards you.

As you were walking down the staircase behind Dean and Portia, you moved slightly out the way and smiled at a man walking past you, trying to be friendly. It ended with him looking at you up and down, in a way that made you feel as if you didn’t belong here. Your smile vanished and soon was replaced with a quick glare toward him off. He didn’t seem fazed, going on his way. "I don’t know if it’s just me," You leaned forward slightly and grabbed a hold of the railing so you wouldn't fall. "But I feel like I’m being judged. Like, hardcore.”

“Same here.” Dean agreed with you. He turned his head to look over his shoulder at the older man who passed by him. “Are we getting the stink eye in here or what?”

"They can tell you two are outsiders." Portia said.

"And here I was expecting the VIP treatment." You mumbled. You took the final step down from the staircase and followed behind the woman, only to see their gaze on you continued on when you got to the bar. You didn't let their lingering stares phase you. "Are they all witches?"

“And stuff.” Portia added on. “But if there’s information out here about James, they’ll know.”

You took a sweep of the bar to see that everyone looked human to the naked eye, enjoying their cocktails and uppercase atmosphere. And you were the eye sore that was ruining their night. You moved your attention away from the unwanted attention and to the the woman, curious about something. "How did James find you, anyway? Is there like," You felt your lips stretch into a smile at the ridiculous question you were about to ask. "Some sort of website he went on to find you? There some kind of matchmaker?”

“Not the way it works.” Portia corrected you. All though from the smile you caught on her face, she seemed at least amused at your guess of how she found James. “The familiar finds the master, and they become inseparable.”

“Guess a lot of people feel that way about their pets.” Dean said. Portia stopped in her tracks from what she heard the man say, something to her was degrading from what she really was. Even you had to admit it was a little bit mean. She turned around and gave the man a glare, making him suddenly wonder what he did wrong. "What?"

Portia scoffed at the way the hunter thought, “I’m not James’ pet.”

“Well,” Dean’s lips stretched into a smile. “Not all the time.”

"Not ever." Portia said. She stepped forward to the man, wanting to get one thing straight about their relationship that wasn’t anything like he thought it was. The woman might be able to transform herself into a dog, but that had nothing to do with who she truly was. “The master and the familiar—there's an unbreakable bond, like a melding of souls. We would die for each other."

“So...you just living your life until you met James one day, who so happened to be looking for someone like you? And the both of you just knew that you were meant to be together?” You asked. Portia’s defenses were starting to be lowered when you approached the topic with more of an open mind, and slightly curious as to how all of this worked for them. “Basically you’re the equivalent to human soulmates, per se. Huh. Interesting.”

You knew a little something about human bonds when you felt your lips stretch into a faint smile and your gaze move to the older Winchester. However your attention was drawn away all together from the topic when you heard a male voice call out Portia's name, along with the snapping of someone’s fingers. You looked across the bar to see a man sitting all by himself with a rather smug smirk on his face. You narrowed your eyes slightly when he waved his hand in the air, grabbing the woman’s attention. You followed behind her when she made her way over to the man, seeming as if he was the reason why she brought the both of you here in the first place.

“Dean, Y/N. Meet Philippe LeChat.” Portia introduced you to her friend, bringing up that little white lie that granted you access here in the first place. You weren't sure if you should have been offended or proud at what she said you were supposed to be pretending to be. "Dean's a wiccan from Detroit. Y/N is his familiar."

"Really?" Phillippe seemed rather intrigued, enough to invite the three of you to join him on the couch across from him. "Well...sit, sit."

“Spencer here?” Portia asked, taking a seat at the far end of the couch, leaving you in the middle between her and Dean. You got yourself comfortable, making sure to subtly tug on your shirt so it would hide your little bump. You couldn't be too cautious around these parts.

“Somewhere.” Philippe replied.

Dean accidentally found himself disrupting the conversation when he let out a sneeze, which was unlike him. You furrowed your brow and looked over at him with a concerned expression. He cleared his throat, sniffing away another sneeze that he felt tickling his nose. "That's weird. That only happens around cats."

"Tell me about James." Philippe turned his attention back to Portia, eager to jump back into the conversation. It seemed he wanted to get some dirt on the man. You wondered who he was, a witch or a familiar. "Lot of buzz out there."

“All gossip.” Portia said. You and Dean looked over at the woman, wondering exactly what they were discussing. "The community has a little attitude going."

Phillip chuckled to himself and uncrossed his legs, he leaned forward and rested his arms on his upper thighs. It seemed that not everyone was willing to look for the good in James. “He brings it on himself.” He said. “The whole cop thing—witch cop—is he nuts?”

“I said the exact same thing.” Dean agreed. You rolled your eyes from the remark that you knew wasn’t exactly the man you were trying to clear the name of, Portia threw the man a subtle glare from how his big mouth seem to run at the worst of times.

“Then there's you, babe.” Philippe said, talking directly to Portia. “It isn’t done, Portia, and you know it.”

"I'm sorry. Uh, remind us," You spoke up, flashing a smile at the miscommunication that seemed to be going on between all of you. It seemed Portia left something important out from telling you. Philippe couldn’t have been anymore cryptic even if he tried. "What isn't done?"

Before you could get any sort of answers from information you felt Portia had left out, a man approached the four of you, seeming to have known the woman well when he spoke her name. You greeted the stranger with a smile, Dean came right out with the same lie when he noticed the stranger was a little curious to the new faces he hadn't seen around here before. "Uh, I'm a--I'm a wiccan. I'm from Detroit." Dean introduced himself. Your smile grew a little wider when Dean leaned back in his seat and draped his arm across the back of the couch. This couldn't have been awkward, but somehow he made it that way. "She's my...familiar."

"Spencer's the man to ask." Portia said, gesturing a hand to the man standing in front of you.

"Have you ever heard of a spell where a witch can control the actions of another witch?" You were the one who asked the question to the fellow wiccan when Dean attempt to do so, but only ended with him letting out a few words before he sneezed once again. You scooched away from him, not wanting to be in the target area from his allergies that were seemed to be triggered by a nonexistent feline.

“No, I have never heard of a thing like that. I don’t think it’s possible.” Spencer said. You let out a quiet sigh from the only possible lead you had that might explain what was going on. The man looked over at Portia, feeling the need to check up on the fellow friend you had in common from all the rumors circulating. "How's James?"

“Better.” Portia replied. “I’ll tell him you asked.”

"Philippe," Spencer directed his attention to the man you were sitting across. "It's time we were going."

"Of course. Good night." Philippe said his goodbyes to Portia, in the kind of voice that made it seem they weren't exactly the best of friends. He looked over at you and Dean to say farewell to the both of you as well. His lips stretched into a smile when he made eye contact with the older man. "So nice to meet you two."

You were about to return the gesture as a sign of friendliness, but you felt your lips parting away from one another from what you saw. Philippe's eyes changed color into a sort of yellow, along with the shape of his pupils. When you blinked, he went from human to a little black cat, in the matter of seconds. You let out a slight chuckle from how you didn't figure it out sooner that he wasn't a witch, but a familiar. Spencer gently grazed his hand across the cat's head before the both of them went on their way. You heard your phone go off, right after Dean mumbled something about how he knew Philippe was the reason for his allergies.

Rolling your eyes, you excused yourself up from the couch, wanting to take the call in private when you noticed it was Sam who was trying to get a hold of you. "Where are you guys?"

“Some witch bar.” You said. “Why?”

“Listen, I just got the lab work back from the blood on James’ shirt.” Sam said. You asked him what he found, slightly hopeful that it wasn’t what you thought it was. Of course, he didn’t call to make this easier. He had been on your side about wanting to give James the benefit of the doubt, but after what he discovered, you had a feeling there was no more chances you could give. “Not good. Blood’s an exact match to victim number three.”

"Great. Well," You let out a sigh from what you were hearing. "That pretty much says it all for us, doesn't it?"

You looked over your way at Portia, who was sitting on the couch, and trying her hardest to eavesdrop on the conversation. You had a feeling she didn’t need to hear a single word from how it was going, your expression said it all. You said a quick goodbye to the younger Winchester before hanging up the phone. Nodding your head to Dean, you had a feeling it was time to leave and tell him the news that he was right about James all along.

[Next Part]

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robronsecretsanta · 6 years

Photo

a madness to the method

(AO3)

Rating: E

For @notforonesecond . Merry Christmas! From your Secret Santa. May this bring you as much joy as your presence on here brings me.

:::::

He stands there, script page in hand and a growing pit in his stomach, as Robert Sugden walks up to him with a grin.

“What you waiting for? Get your kit off.”

:::::

It’s his third big role, but the first one that actually means something, Aaron having acted in a couple of big-budget blockbuster films to date; the last two even giving him some lines and some stunts, the latter of which he’d done himself. But so far most of his career has involved plenty of little-known stage work and a few well-received indies, as well as a particularly popular episode of Black Mirror.

He’s fairly certain that’s what landed him this script, his wide body of emotionally driven work. Not every day a Frank Clayton production sends a part your way. Not every day Harriet Finch is attached to direct. (Aaron’s pretty sure he’s one of the few people who’s seen the entirety of her oeuvre, even purchased some of the early stuff on DVD, forcing his best mate Adam to sit through whole movie marathons of her work, dissecting every shot inch by inch.)

The film’s a period piece about two young men who fall in love as a war looms over them; two lovers star-crossed in one of the worst ways possible. Both stuck going to war terrified the other won’t come home. Only they do, if not a little emotionally scarred and a little physically injured. The reunion is emotionally sweet and full of hope — exactly the kind of story Aaron wishes he could have grown up with. Because sometimes a happy ending really makes a difference. He’d almost learned that hard way.

“You sure you want to do this?” His mother asks, curled up on his sofa in his flat in North London and peaking up at him with big brown eyes through dark, bit-too-long bangs. “People might start asking whether you’re gay, love.”

Aaron understands her concerns and where she’s coming from. Doesn’t stop him from shrugging them off and holding firm to the feeling in his gut.

“Let them,” he says, lips downturned at the corners as he paces across the living room determinedly. “Not got anything to hide, have I?”

Despite all his bravado, there’s a flicker of doubt. If this somewhat calculated risk doesn’t pan out, it could be the end of the upward trajectory of his acting career. For all it’s progress on the LGBTQIA-depiction front, Hollywood itself isn’t as accepting of openly queer actors. And while Aaron won’t miss the perks of rising fame at all, he will miss getting to work on more interesting projects or movies, like this one.

Still, Aaron Dingle has never been a liar, and he’s not going to start now. Especially when it comes to his sexuality.

:::::

His agent, a no-nonsense woman named Priya, approves of his decision immediately. She knows he’s gay, has known from the start. But it’s never affected her decision to take him on as a client. (It’s one of the reasons Aaron’s stuck with her so long; tying his rising star to her job.)

“You’ve certainly got the talent and the range to pull this off,” she states and it feels less like a dream and more like reality. “With Finch directing it, this could become potential Oscar material. This part’ll definitely get you noticed.”

Aaron smiles and nods along, because that is nice he supposes. He’s just glad the production company don’t want yet another audition, or even a chemistry read with his yet-to-be-announced co-star. He’s sick of them at this point.

“Who’s the other lead?” He asks, fingers picking at each other, left knee bouncing in the chair. He’s about ready to leave Priya’s office. But the second he hears her answer, he’s stuck bolted to his seat. His mind reeling with the news of it.

Robert Sugden.

:::::

To say he’s heard of Robert Sugden is the understatement of the century. If anything, he’s the one responsible for Aaron’s sexual awakening.

Like most teenage boys his age, he’d been obsessed with the Transformers movies. Only unlike his best mate Adam, he didn’t fall asleep and wake up hard to thoughts of the hot female lead. No, despite his best attempts at the time, his mind always drifted to the slightly older but also teenaged Robert Sugden; the son of a famous actor who’d also made it big quite young, starring in at least two popular TV series. (In hindsight, Aaron’s desire to purchase and put up a shirtless poster of Robert on his bedroom wall should have been a big hint as to his nascent gayness. But like all sexually confused teenagers he’d managed to convince himself he was more into the trucks instead; that he wanted to be Robert Sugden, not be with him.)

He’d spent a full summer when he was 15 watching his way through Robert’s early work, bingeing that one popular science fiction series where he and a group of teens investigated strange paranormal phenomena at their English boarding school. A part of him had come alive when a body-swap episode had caused Robert’s character’s body to be a possessed by a female friend’s, resulting in him kissing and making out with her boyfriend who’d been played by Pete Barton. (Aaron had spent the ensuing weeks reading and rewatching everything to with those few minutes of airtime, refusing to let anyone play over his recording. He’d worn out the tape till it could play no longer.)

The first time he’d come was a few weeks later, Robert’s name on his lips as he’d pictured being kissed by him, his hand moving up and down the length of his naked shaft faster and faster; rock hard and aching at just the thought of him.

Robert. Fucking. Sugden.

What are the odds?

He doesn’t know whether to quit the project or just die of mortification. How is he supposed to act against someone he’s had those kinds of thoughts about? (He’s never had limits for who you should love and be with. After all, that would be a tad hypocritical of him. But some lines shouldn’t be crossed, no matter the project, and he’s fairly convinced this is one of them.)

He mentions this to Adam when he comes over to play FIFA on the PS4 later, only his best mate doesn’t quite seem to get it. Though to be fair, he’s never really had to deal with this, has he?

“So what? You used to jerk off to him. Big deal!” Adam shrugs, cycling through the options and picking his players. “If I said I’d avoid every female celeb I did that with, I wouldn’t be able to work with any of them.”

Aaron makes a face, even if he does concede that Adam has a point — not that he’s out there having to act against… (He’s actually not sure who this week’s flavour of the month is. Adam’s feelings of attraction waxing and waning like the moon.)

“Though,” Adam says, turning to look at him when he’s satisfied with his choices. “His sister Victoria is pretty fit. Do you think you could get her number?”

Aaron tosses a cushion at his face. Leave it to Adam to miss the point completely.

It bounces off and falls onto Adam’s lap, he picks it up and places it beside him.

When he turns toward Aaron this time, he looks a lot more serious, an earnestness in his gaze that wasn’t there before.

“Listen,” he says, voice soft yet firm. “You’ve wanted to be in one of Finch’s movies ever since I’ve known ya. Don’t back out now just because of Sugden.”

Aaron nods, though he’s still not convinced. Adam must see it because he then adds, “You’ll do fine. You’re an amazing actor. That’s why they wanted you for this part, you know, instead of me.”

Aaron shoots him a look and Adam just shrugs. Turns his attention back to the TV screen as he says, “What? I’m a scene stealer. Everyone knows that.”

That triggers a laugh and when it’s over, Aaron feels a lot lighter. But even as they both accept their team and kit selections and start the game, his mind drifts back to a young, shirtless Robert…

:::::

He keeps the part after all, the announcement making some waves in the press. However, any intrusiveness into his personal life is circumvented by the latest news about Robert. Rumour has it that he’s up for consideration as the new James Bond. Aaron had laughed when he’d first read the news. But laying in bed, later that night, he can’t help but picture Robert in a trademark suit, smirking down the barrel of a gun, the way he’s become known for.

It’s enough to make him shaken and stirred — not that he lifts a finger to relieve himself of the dull, building throb. (If there’s one thing Aaron Dingle’s sure about, it’s that it’s impolite to pleasure oneself to the thoughts of an upcoming co-star. Even if they were the starring role in his teenage fantasies.)

He ends up taking a cold shower instead.

:::::

Meeting Harriet Finch is everything like he’d imagined, and yet nothing like it at all.

Aaron spends all morning practicing what he wants to say to her, pacing back and forth in his newly assigned trailer — which happens to be both bigger and more luxurious than he’d expected. None of the words of praise he’s wanted to lavish her with seeming right for the moment, or even worthy of her, but he keeps practicing all the same.

That’s why he’s thrown when she comes to see him, telling him how much she’d enjoyed his turn in a small play he’d done last summer as a favour to an old friend (and ex-boyfriend), Ed.

She smiles at him with kind, dark eyes and outlines the many ways in which he’d knocked that role out of the park, followed by his performance in those few movies and, of course, Black Mirror.

“I knew you were the right man for the part the moment I saw you,” she says, voice like a warm woollen blanket, the words wrapping him up in a cocoon of comfort. “You’ll make a marvellous ‘Thomas.’ I just know it. I’m glad to have you on this project.”

But just as he’s basking in the glow of her reassurance, she asks the dreaded question.

“Have you met Robert Sugden?”

:::::

If first meetings dictate how the rest of a working relationship might go, Robert and Aaron’s is already off to a really bad start.

He’d shown up to Robert’s trailer and gone in after knocking a few times, only to find him in the throes of being orally pleasured.

Aaron hadn’t recognised the woman, just seen the back of her head, as she’d kneeled in front of Robert and blown him. Robert was sitting on the edge of his trailer’s bed and leaning back, both arms supporting his weight across the still-made comforter. His shirt was unbuttoned and he’d got his leather jacket on, neck exposed as he half lay there jerking and groaning.

He’d seemed to sense Aaron because Robert had looked up at once, locking eyes across the short distance. He’d given him a long hard look, then flashed him a wink and a smile, before closing his eyes and coming into the woman’s mouth not very long after.

Cheeks reddening and more than a little shocked, Aaron had turned and bolted. He’d wanted to spare that poor woman the embarrassment of knowing he’d seen this happening, but more importantly, process it all himself.

Standing in his own trailer he wants to kick himself for being such a goddamn fool. The tabloids had been reporting this side of Robert Sugden for years on end. But Aaron had ignored them because that’s what you were supposed to do. (And maybe, he tries not to acknowledge as his heart continues to pound, because it had ruined his fantasy of Robert and his younger self.)

But for all his talent — and he has plenty of it — Robert Sugden has always been a bit of a playboy; has the ex-wife and half a dozen ex-girlfriends to prove it. The result of this is a respectable body of work, but no one noticing because of all the gossip. (Aaron had once suspected this was Robert trying to undersell himself, maybe a bit nervous of all the extended limelight. He’d grown up Jack Sugden’s son, had had to bear that mantle, while also carving a name for himself, with not much room for error.)

Any sympathy he’d once felt though, has now been stripped away, replaced with cold, hard knowledge. Robert Sugden actually enjoys behaving like this, and Aaron can’t believe he’d liked him.

As he starts pacing, his heart still racing, Aaron gets madder and madder. They’ve both been given a golden opportunity being cast in these roles, and it’s something Robert wants to squander?

He’d wanted to walk away from this project because he’d been worried about his own personal hang-ups. Not wanting any former feelings for Robert to affect his performance. But now all he can think about is Robert’s smile and his wink, as if showing off his sexual prowess to Aaron.

This feels good, and I made that happen. Maybe I can do that for you as well?

Aaron growls, feels like punching something nearby, hating the small part of him that had kind of enjoyed it; that place deep within himself that still tends a tiny flame devoted to Robert Sugden; that place that had enjoyed watching him come.

It’s not your fault, Aaron tells himself, trying to banish the recent memory from his mind — though he’d spent years picturing and imaging exactly that. Him blowing Robert and feeling him coming under him, his palms flat against his thighs. (Sometimes he’d imagine the flip of it too. Him coming apart in Robert’s hands, his mouth smirking as Aaron comes right into it.)

He’s just managed to get rid of it, when he hears a dry chuckle, spins around to find Robert standing in his trailer, blue shirt all buttoned and jeans up and belted, like that midday blowjob hadn’t happened.

He smiles at him, blue-green eyes glittering, “So I take it you’re Aaron Dingle.”

It sends a thrill up his neck, short hairs lightly lifting, at the prospect of Robert Sugden saying his name. But then annoyance sets in as that memory comes back and Aaron grunts his affirmation.

“What do you want?”

Robert doesn’t seem deterred, doesn’t even seem to clock his rudeness. Just smiles at him like he said something funny. “To apologise. That wasn’t how I’d pictured our first meeting.”

“Why? You plan on having your cock in someone else’s mouth?” Aaron fires back, a little shocked that Robert had ever given meeting him any thought.

Robert’s eyes widen at the accusation, but whatever it is that came over him passes because he laughs and clears his throat. “No. Wasn’t planning to, actually. Just wanted to tell you what a big fan I am.”

His eyes flit away, and his smile kind of softens. Robert looks back at Aaron. “And that I’m looking forward to us working together.”

If Aaron hadn’t seen what he’d seen, he’d believe every word of this, Robert coming across well-meaning and earnest. But then he remembers just how good of an actor his co-star-to-be really is and snorts. “Nice try. Hope you’re better on camera.”

Robert winces at that, but his smile remains, even if it’s starting to look a little brittle.

“I’m sorry about what happened, alright?” Robert says, frustration colouring his voice at the edges. Aaron can see that this really is paining him; Robert not that good of an actor. “Let’s start over.”

He takes a step forward and holds out his hand. “Hi. I’m Robert Sugden.”

Aaron ignores it, crosses his arms across his chest.

“I know who you are,” he spits out.

Robert looks confused, studies him further before withdrawing his hand and eventually letting it drop. He puts it in his jacket pocket and renews his smile at Aaron. It’s just as small and soft as earlier.

“I’m trying, you know,” he says and Aaron can feel himself willing to give him that inch, to soften and forgive Robert so they can start over. But then he thinks about how smug and cocky he’d been just before he’d come right in front of him, and a wave of pulsing, hot annoyance shoots right through him.

“Then try harder,” Aaron half-growls, taking a small step further. And then, “And maybe try keepin’ your dick to yourself.”

:::::

Production kicks off without any further hitches, and he quickly gets to know the rest of their cast and crew — even becoming friends with a production assistant named Ellis.

Though most of the time Aaron just stays put in his trailer, constantly rehearsing and working on his character.

Harriet seems happy with his performance so far, giving him any extra takes he wants to do. But Aaron hasn’t been able to get in a groove that makes him truly happy; where he has an understanding of his character inside and out.

From the script, his own chat with Harriet, and the homework he’s done, he knows “Thomas James” to be a straightforward fellow, a little tentative, but earnest with his feelings.

He’s a farmer who owns and works his own farm, before one day he runs into Felix, his new and struggling neighbour. Felix’s family has lost most of their estate; bad debts and investments before the beginnings of the war hit. All they have now, is this one farm to their name, and Felix, a city boy — or rather, man — through and through has no clue how to run it.

Unable to stand it, Thomas steps in to help him, and Felix promises to do his accounts in trade. Thomas agrees, the spark between them growing and burning brighter.

Robert and he have played and shot a handful of those initial scenes, mostly set up for the rest of the story. But as their characters have seemed to find an easy camaraderie, there barely exists one between them.

For his part, Robert hasn’t really paused his efforts to win Aaron over, always making jokes and trying to give him an opening. Internally, Aaron struggles not to let go and give in, not having run into Robert with his cock down someone else’s throat since.

He doesn’t understand how Robert can just switch into his role and then right out of it, a slippery fish if there ever was one. He throws on Felix’s skin like it’s one of those button-up shirts he so favours, constantly remaining in costume longer than needed. (Aaron actually doesn’t mind that because it’s easy on the eyes and for their characters, Robert wearing 1920 period garb like he was born for it.)

Felix is smart and inept, but also charming and funny, a gay man in his shell, with no real interest in marriage. Just a blushing eye turned towards Thomas.

And that’s the part that kind of stings in their scenes, because it’s in those moments that Aaron feels he can really see the Robert he once had a crush on; a hint of him shining through.

It’s in Robert’s small smiles and the soft in his eyes, the blue-green of them a warm summer ocean.

But then Harriet says, “Cut” and it all disappears, Robert’s eyes growing cooler, his body more indifferent; tensed and held in a way he doesn’t when he’s Felix, like he’s holding a deep breath in.

That’s the first thing Aaron notices as they take a break before they shoot their first big scene, a first kiss where both men realise their mutual attraction.

They’re standing in a field, where Felix’s tractor has broken down, and Thomas has ridden up in his horse to help fix it.

As Aaron walks through the wet grass, his period accurate boots and jeans sinking into the mud a little, he gets his first glimpse of Robert.

His shirt sleeves are rolled back and his brow is plastered with sweat. He’s clearly been out in a full afternoon of labour.

They go through the dialogue, Felix directing Thomas to the back of the tractor, some kind of malfunction trapped within it. Thomas gives it a look, and Aaron produces a short grunt of surveyance, really giving it a decent study.

Then exhaling slowly he offers Thomas’ suggestion, that sometimes you just need to push it. He does as he says, and gives the tractor a shove, before letting his knees soften and himself fall forward in the muck.

Above him, he can hear Robert’s laughter bursting forth loud and clear, and he knows instantly it’s not his acting as Felix. He turns to his side and shoots Robert a dirty look, but in his chest his heart skips a beat at it.

Finally springing into action Felix leans forward and offers Thomas a hand, Robert bending and extending his hand out. The laughter still shines in his eyes, even if it’s not coming out his lips, his breath still short and him still panting.

Something surges in Aaron and he feels Thomas’ quiet sense of humour, reaches up and pulls Robert down towards him.

Robert captures all of Felix’ (and probably some of his own) surprise, his own knees bending as he falls atop Aaron; the hard firmness of his limbs utterly unexpected, and yet fitting against him perfectly.

He’s now laying on his back in the mud, feeling the cold soak into his tough warm denim, the flannel of his shirt doing little to protect him. But none of that matters as Robert gazes down at him, both their chests pressed together.

The script says this is where Felix kisses Thomas, too physically close for any more doubted restraint. Only Robert hasn’t moved, just keeps on laying there, mere centimetres away, his eyes trained down on Aaron’s lips, as if frozen by disbelief and nervousness.

Probably just nervous about kissing another man, Aaron thinks, flashing back to Robert kissing Pete Barton, and the way his hands had cupped his face. Probably worried that this time someone might think he’s gay.

Deep inside Aaron, something aches. He lets out a small, frustrated huff, his head relaxing back into the wet dirt, resigning himself to a long wait.

And then it’s like something snaps, because Robert leans forward, lunging for his lips with everything he has; his tongue barely waiting as Aaron’s lips part. (They hadn’t rehearsed this, or even really discussed it. Aaron not wanting to spend more time around Robert than entirely necessary.)

But as he lays here now, Aaron can’t help but give himself over to it, letting Robert’s fingers skim his sides before they bunch up in the warmth of his flannel shirt, his hands finding their way onto Robert’s lower back and his hair. He holds Robert’s head firm as he deepens the kiss. His co-star isn’t the only one who can improvise.

He doesn’t feel the lack of oxygen until the tail end of a groan, too deep into it to know if it’s from him or Robert.

When they pull apart both of them are panting. Robert’s gaze comes back up and they lock eyes again, a lock of his blonde hair dropping onto Aaron’s forehead, as his breath continues to tickle his lips; both wet and a little blitzed.

Deep in the depths of Robert’s green and blues, Aaron sees a spark of searching nervousness and hesitation. He brushes that bit of hair back almost without thinking; an unconscious act of soothing.

He can hear Robert’s breath hitch at the feel of his thumb pad on his skin, sees the way his eyes drop back down to Aaron’s lips. No longer nervous, and still barely thinking, Aaron leans up and presses another kiss to his lips, this time a more sweet and chaste one.

When he pulls back, Robert still has his eyes closed, almost cute in his stunned still surprise. Aaron finds himself smiling and recording this picture mentally; filled with the desire to go back in time and tell himself, “We kissed Robert Sugden!”

Robert opens his eyes and a second later Harriet yells, “Cut!” Aaron can’t help but feel interrupted.

What did you want to say? He wants to ask, as they both get to their feet. Aaron barely makes an attempt to clean himself off. He knows he needs a good shower.

Next to him, Robert seems to be avoiding his eyes, focusing a little too hard on dusting his pants off. Aaron tries not to spend too much time admiring his bum in the process.

They’re walking off set, when Robert makes the joke, voice flippant and tone just insulting.

“Feel like hitting a strip club, eh?” He says with what is meant to be a playful nudge. “Need to see some naked tits, pronto.”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, this being a movie and all, but it still stings hard and deep all the same.

Aaron feels hot anger come over him without much warning, and he explodes back at Robert in a rage.

“All of this is just one big joke to ya, isn’t it?” He practically spits out the words in a low, angry growl as he shoves Robert backwards into a nearby trailer.

He doesn’t care if anyone’s nearby, or if they even see him. All he can see and hear is Robert.

“These are people’s lives,” he continues, the line of his right forearm held against Robert’s chest, constricting the way he breathes slightly. “Do you even get that?”

“It’s just a joke,” Robert answers, sounding both defensive and soft.

Aaron couldn’t give a toss about it.

“Excuse me if I don’t think bein’ gay is funny,” he fires back, leans in a little and lets the anger radiate off his face, hoping Robert gets the message.

Apparently, he does, because his eyes just widen, and then he’s saying, “Aaron, I’m sorry. I didn’t-“

He knows he’s not exactly hiding his sexuality, but Aaron isn’t really advertising it either, so it sends him reeling back the second he realises Robert has figured out he’s gay.

He stands there panting, anger being replaced by panic, the air evacuating his lungs just as his heart takes residence in his ears.

He turns and walks away before his balance decides to go, can feel his knees weakening with each step he takes; thinks he hears Robert calling at him in the distance.

Calling him because he knows this thing about him.

Calling him because he knows he’s gay.

Shit.

:::::

He’s exiting his trailer when he runs into Robert again. Aaron almost bolts the instant he sees him — only to realise he’s blocking his way.

“Aaron, wait,” Robert pleads, looking up at him from the bottom of those short metal stairs. Aaron almost turns around and goes back inside.

But then he notices that Robert is still in his costume — which is not too much of a surprise — but it’s a sign that he’s been waiting outside this entire time. As much as he doesn’t want to, Aaron knows he must honour that. From what he’s seen, Robert Sugden does that for no one.

“You going to invite me inside?” Robert asks when he sees Aaron willingly to stick around in his trailer doorway.. His attempt at a teasing smile fades when he gets Aaron’s answer.

“Whatever you want to say in there, you can say out here.” Aaron crosses his hoodie-covered arms across his chest, retaining the warmth within it.

Robert nods, and takes one step higher, making this whole conversation a little more private. Aaron can smell him, even standing a few inches away; the intermingled scent of mud and sweat and Robert. (The note is slightly floral but kind of muted like Lavender, but Aaron can’t be sure because he doesn’t know flowers.)

“Sorry I made those jokes earlier,” Robert says softly, and Aaron can see that he’s being absolutely serious. “I don’t think being gay is funny…”

Aaron doesn’t say anything, just keeps on watching. He can see that Robert is on the edge of something.

After what feels likes very long pause, it finally drops. “… because I’m actually bisexual.”

He can’t seem to meet Aaron’s eyes as he says that, his cheeks going pink as he looks away and to the left. Standing this close Aaron can feel the tension radiating off of him in waves, coming over him in rapid succession.

Aaron swallows, not sure what exactly to make of it; his teenage dreams all coming true in an instant. So he bites his tongue and holds back his first three replies, and then offers the one he feels is most supportive.

“Thanks for telling me,” he says and he finds that he means it. He’s actually a little touched by Robert’s choice to trust him.

“Figured it was the least I owe you,” Robert says with a shy smile, and for a second Aaron really feels like he’s looking at Felix.

His inner Thomas makes him return it.

“That why you wanted to do this movie?” Aaron asks when the moment eventually passes. It’s a big question he knows, but he needs an answer.

“No, actually,” Robert explains with a chuckle, something raw and unguarded about him now. Like he’s been acting this entire time Aaron has known him.

“I’m a big fan of hers,” Robert says with an excited smile. “She was my mum’s favourite director.”

Aaron gets it and gives him a nod. “Yeah, I’m a big fan myself.”

Robert grins at this little piece of information, a bigger reward than he was expecting.

“Guess this means we should definitely be friends,” Robert suggests, shyness still lacing his voice. “Don’t know many people who’ve even heard of Harriet.”

Aaron studies Robert, takes the entirety of him in, considers it and then shrugs. “Guess you’re not a complete idiot.”

Robert’s smile when he says that is radiant.

:::::

That night he dreams of Robert, the same one he’d had when he was fifteen. Only this time his brain fills in all the missing details.

He needs another shower in the morning.

:::::

Things improve on set by a thousandfold. Robert’s one-sided jibes giving way to Aaron returning them, both of them ribbing and teasing each other between takes. Robert somehow becomes a mainstay on his trailer’s sofa, as they hang out a lot more between scenes, running lines and even whole scenes together.

They seem to have found a quiet understanding when it comes to each other and their space.. (Though, coming out to each other does that, Aaron supposes.)

It’s crazy, but he genuinely thinks it makes both of their scenes better. Both of them now freer with how they move and touch each other. Aaron had once read somewhere that it has to do with the language of how queer people sometimes act and speak; a quiet understanding of how love can be writ across their bodies. He doesn’t know how much he agrees with that exactly. But he does feel it when Robert hugs him as Felix.

It’s a gentle gesture, Robert coming from behind and embracing him around the waist, one hand coming up to rest over Aaron’s heart. Aaron presses those fingers close to his chest, letting Robert feel the steady rise of his heartbeat as he sinks back into him; Thomas leaning into Felix.

They stand like that in silence for a moment longer, Robert’s chin on Aaron’s shoulder, both of them

bathing in the pale sunlight of a cool autumn morning, as filtered through the dusty windows of Thomas’ work shed.

It’s as they’re standing, silently breathing and hearts quickly beating that Aaron is seized by a sudden urge. Following the wave of it, he brings Robert’s fingers up to his lips, gently pressing a kiss on each knuckle as if soothing away newly-formed blisters — the results of Felix’ recent hard labour.

The moment his lips touch skin he hears Robert’s breath hitch, but it only guides him forward. He holds that last kiss longest, before pulling away and spinning them around, Robert’s back now pressing into the edge of Thomas’ workstation, their hands caught between them; Aaron’s fingers wrapped around Robert’s wrist, his thumb resting on his speeding pulse.

Robert for his part, seems to be trusting Aaron implicitly as he gazes down at Aaron first with surprise and then excitement. He smiles softly, clearly anticipating a kiss. Aaron smiles back and obliges him.

It’s completely unscripted and wholly them and yet none of it feels any bit of wrong. Aaron leans forward, slowly edging closer, his eyes locked into Robert’s. He hovers for a second, feels his breath bounce off Robert’s lips, then dips forward and claims them.

This kiss doesn’t progress as quickly as the first one did, Robert letting Aaron set the pace by which they go by. So he takes his time, focuses on nipping at Robert’s bottom lip; gentle kisses that should convey Thomas’ affections.

But then Robert’s hands start to slide across his back, pulling and holding him closer — only nothing about the gesture feels overtly sexual. It’s just two men standing and savouring the act of kissing, two men revelling in their affections.

They kiss a little longer, the pace still languid, Robert letting him take his sweet time, before Aaron decides to pause and not take it any further.

He pulls away, lets out his own small exhale — the matching one to Robert’s. He smiles at him, Robert returns it. Then with another small breath he leans his forehead against the other man’s; shuts his eyes and feels the feel of his skin against his own.

A few seconds pass, Robert still holding him close, Aaron feeling like he’s just survived a continuous free fall.

It’s in the middle of this that he hears Harriet’s quietly spoken words, “And that’s a wrap. Not going to get a better take than that one.”

:::::

He’s on his way off set when Robert catches up with him, grabbing his elbow to still him.

He doesn’t let go even when Aaron stops in place, only does when Aaron looks at him questioningly, despite the whole thing feeling natural.

“You doing anything later?” Robert asks, both hands in his leather jacket pockets, a leather messenger bag slung across his chest and shoulders. “Thought you might like to come over for a drink.”

Aaron considers it, gives it a long hard thought, but it must make Robert panic because he blurts out, “We can run lines or something.”

“Yeah, okay,” Aaron tells him, giving him a nod. And then, because he thinks Robert might have the wrong impression of him and he doesn’t at all like that.

“We don’t always have to work, you know. I do have other interests..”

Robert grins and nudges him in the side. Then he goes into an impression of Aaron.

“I’m Aaron Dingle and I think work is fun. If you don’t, then you’re a right idiot.”

Aaron tries not to, but he can’t stop himself chuckling, a little charmed by Robert’s intonation.

:::::

He finds that Robert’s home is nothing like he’d imagined, more lived in and comfortable than overly posh — though he has all sorts of shiny appliances in the kitchen. A mark of either a man who cooks, or just someone who likes the aesthetic. (Aaron is willing to bet it’s the first one.)

The bookshelves — of which there are two big ones — are stuffed to the gills, brimming with books threatening to fall off them. The walls, a nice calming shade of blue, are covered in posters paying homage to some of his favourite works of science fiction.

“Didn’t know you were such a nerd,” Aaron says when he’s got a drink in hand, as he looks up at a poster of The Xavier Files, the show he’d been more than a little obsessed with. Robert is standing front and centre as the star, his boarding school uniform fitting him flatteringly. (Aaron swallows, his blood growing warmer as he understands where certain fantasies might have originated from. He tries not to think about it in case he’ll need another cold shower. He’s already taken one before coming to this place.)

“You just don’t understand art,” Robert retorts, coming over to join him. He looks at the poster for a good second and then adds, “Or quality science fiction.”

Aaron snorts at that, unable to contain himself. “Think you’re using the term rather loosely. The ‘Gavoorians’? Come on.”

Robert looks at him in surprise, and maybe a hint of pleasure, as he says, “Don’t tell me youwatched it?”

Aaron goes red, feels his mouth turn dry, so he answers as honestly as he can, trying not to let the truth of the matter slip out even as he looks Robert in the eye.

“Might have caught an episode or two one summer,” he says, voice straining to remain casual. Then he adds, because he can’t help himself, “Saw the one where you kissed Pete Barton.”

Robert’s face goes from surprise to embarrassment to all-out amusement, barking a laugh with his neck tipped back, his shoulders relaxing and also dipping down. Aaron’s never seen him this joyful.

“What?” Robert says, growing suddenly conscious, his laughter fading and his body going still. His cheeks are pink as he studies Aaron.

“Nothing,” Aaron shrugs, voice above a whisper. His ears are hot, his pulse pounding. “Just wasn’t expecting this reaction, is all.”

“Well, it’s a bit of a surprise,” Robert explains, as if it all makes sense. “Didn’t think you’d have even heard of it, let alone watched it.”

“Why not? Because I don’t understand ‘science fiction’?” Aaron teases, oddly thrilled at subverting Robert’s expectations like this. “Don’t have to watch a lot to understand quality.”

“So you agree,” Robert smirks, nudging him with his elbow, a twinkle in his eye. “It is science fiction.”

Aaron snorts, nudges him back. “I suppose. But you’re really stretching the definition.”

They smile at each other, then go back to sipping their drinks, settling comfortably in the silence.

“I loved working on that show,” Robert says after quite a long beat, his voice holding a note of pride. But it’s quiet and with absolutely no hint of preening. “And kissing Pete wasn’t half bad either.”

Aaron feels his cheeks redden as he pictures it again, teenage Pete and Robert going at it.

“Did you have a crush on him, or something?” He looks down at the glass in his hand. He’d never thought he’d be having this conversation with Robert Sugden.

“God, no.” Robert shakes his head beside him. “Pete was pretty fit, but he’s pretty much as straight as they come.”

He waits a beat and then adds, “Decent kisser though.”

How about me? Am I decent too? Aaron wants to ask. But he just chuckles in amusement, enjoying this behind the scenes glimpse into one of his favourite episodes of television ever.

“But what about you?” Robert asks, turning his attention to Aaron. He finishes the last of his drink and asks, “Did you fancy him?”

His smile is conspiratorial and all kinds of knowing. His eyes are dark but inscrutable. Aaron’s cheeks redden despite himself, as he struggles not to blurt out, No. I fancied you, you idiot.

What he does manage to say, after a long moment of waiting, is, “Well, I wasn’t watching for the plot. Was I?”

It doesn’t feel like lying, because it is completely true. Though he does see the flash of something in Robert’s eyes. It disappears behind a laugh a moment later.

“No, I guess not,” Robert concedes, turning and walking over to the sofa. When he takes his seat, it’s with his legs spread wide, all the focus on his crotch. Aaron struggles to not let his gaze drift downward, keeping it trained on Robert’s face instead. And honestly, it’s worth it.

Robert’s smiling up at Aaron, buzzing with excitement. Aaron smiles back because it’s infectious.

“If you liked The Xavier Files, there’s a film you should check out,” he says, switching on his TV, Aaron no longer the focus of his attention. He pulls up Netflix, slowly searches through it, before he asks, “Have you seen The Cabin in the Woods?”

The way he’s looking at Aaron now is just pulling at all his heartstrings, an element of youth befalling all of Robert’s features. His eyes are sparkling, his smile is crooked, and his excitement is radiating off of him.

Robert Sugden: Horror fan.

“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Aaron says shaking his head to clear it. It wouldn’t do to fall for Robert Sugden again. Not when he’s a full-fledged adult. Not when he could accidentally act on it. (Aaron’s always has a rule against dating fellow co-stars or crew members. But no one’s been openly queer enough to test that — or even simply Robert Sugden.)

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Robert says patting the sofa seat beside him. Aaron glances at the screen where the movie is waiting, already cued up, then goes ahead and joins him. “Joss Whedon wrote and directed it.”

Even sitting next to Robert makes his heart rate spike, as does the warmth he feels from his proximity. Robert’s choice to sit in the middle of the sofa and almost spread himself out means he’s just a few fingers far away from Aaron, their hands centimetres apart on the same cushion; the dip caused by Aaron sitting causing Robert’s hand to slide a little closer to him.

He barely manages a nod when he hears Robert talk to him, asking him if he can start the movie. (He would have said yes, but his tongue has ceased to work. Another symptom of sitting next to Robert.)

The film begins and Robert reaches forward and places the remote on the coffee table and suddenly Aaron can focus once more; the thought of Robert accidentally touching him no longer playing on his mind, now free to enjoy the movie.

But as he watches the story of a group of friends — one played by Chris Hemsworth — who decide to spend a weekend in a cabin in the woods, there’s a growing sense of disappointment.

He quickly looks over to Robert’s hands in his lap, and starts to wish they were once again closer.

:::::

He doesn’t have to worry for very much longer, Robert reaching out and grabbing his forearm, when the movie presents its first real scare. Aaron isn’t expecting it, the move causing his heart rate to surge for the monster on screen itself, the feeling of warm, solid fingers clutching him clear even through thick fabric.

As it turns out Robert’s not a very passive watcher, constantly leaning over to make asides or jokes. But mostly it’s all facts he finds fun about the movie. (Aaron agrees. They’re actually quite interesting.)

It’s sweet, Aaron thinks, as he gets more and more invested, both fretting for the imperilled college students and watching Robert.

Gone is the tall and handsome actor who practically grew up in the limelight. In his stead sits a tall, handsome, and surprisingly knowledgeable genre film buff. He’s on the edge of his seat and mostly turned toward Aaron, a bit of a contrasting match to his own seating. (Aaron’s sat back, leaning on the right arm of the sofa, a little too tired to really make himself sit up properly.)

There’s another scare. Robert’s grip tightens. Aaron hides a chuckle at Robert’s expression, the shock of fear stealing the words out of his mouth. He’s left eyes wide, mouth open, and gaping. It’s almost as if this is his first time watching the movie.

Robert doesn’t seem to notice himself holding Aaron’s arm as the movie ticks on, and for his part, Aaron doesn’t alert him.

:::::

He’s enjoying the movie well enough when Robert excitedly tugs at his arm.

“This is my favourite part,” he says, before turning to look at Aaron, eyes crinkling in delight at the edges.

He’s not sure what it is in that moment — the steady warmth of Robert’s grip, the pinks of his cheeks undercutting his freckles, or the reminder of how much he used to want him — but there’s a swell in his chest and Aaron leans forward and steals a kiss from Robert.

His lips feel just like they have every other time, soft, firm, and tender. But unlike all those times they’ve kissed on camera, his co-star isn’t responding.

Panic sets in and Aaron instantly pulls back. He sees that Robert is frozen in surprise; lips barely puckered. Instantly, he realises he got carried away by his feelings, and so backtracks as quickly as possible.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, getting to his feet, Robert’s hand falling away in the process. The loss of warmth immediately starts to smart, Aaron already having gotten used to the feel of it.

“Aaron,” Robert starts, but he just cuts him off.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Aaron swallows roughly unable to look at Robert again, his embarrassment turning his stomach. He feels like he might throw up. “Better go home now. Early call time tomorrow.”

With that, Aaron bolts out of the room and then out the front door all without waiting for another word from Robert.

:::::

He doesn’t sleep a wink that night, just replays the moment in his mind.

Each time it gets worse than before, Robert looking at him in shock bordering on disgust, green-blue eyes flashing. (Aaron knows objectively that Robert didn’t actually sneer at him, but emotionally he might as well have.)

This is what happens when you let your feelings get confused, Aaron chides himself, tossing and turning, his sheets all a tangle. This is why you can’t fall for your co-star.

By the time it’s morning he’s tenser than before. But at least he knows what to say to him.

:::::

He goes to Robert’s trailer before he goes to his own, knocking on the door once and then going right in.

Immediately he’s faced with an eyeful of half-naked Robert in snug boxer-briefs, pacing the space and going over his lines by himself.

Aaron loses his voice, his throat going dry. He just stands there in stunned silence. (He has actually seen Robert without a top on a few times before this, courtesy of a few of his movies. But like with all things, real life is proving better. He’d forgotten just how many freckles he has — and how much he used to want to count them.)

Robert notices him ogling him a few seconds later, and he pauses mid-pace. Just stands there frozen, script page in hand.

“Hi,” Aaron says, for lack of anything better. He smiles nervously, both his hands tucked in his coat pockets, watching Robert quietly.

“Hey,” Robert greets back, sounding almost relieved to see him. He doesn’t look like he’s slept either — probably trying to come up with ways with which to let Aaron down gently. Aaron swallows nervously.

At least you don’t have your cock out again, he wants to joke. But now hardly feels like the time for that.

“About yesterday,” Robert begins, taking a step forward, his tone already sounding apologetic.

Aaron takes that as his cue to take over, and so springs into action.

“It was a mistake,” he says matter-of-factly, having practiced this a few times coming in. “I got carried away. Forgot we’re not Felix and Thomas. Don’t worry it won’t happen again.”

Learned my lesson the hard way.

Robert’s brow is furrowing and he doesn’t seem too pleased. Probably because Aaron is issuing a gentle let down for him. He’d figured this was the easiest way to save face: to acknowledge his crime and issue an apology, save Robert the trouble of having to do any heavy lifting.

“Besides,” Aaron says, trying to lighten the mood, even though it’s absolutely twisting him inside. “Wouldn’t want any rumours ruinin’ ya chances, eh Mr. Bond?”

He offers him a smile, but it feels too watery and shallow. He’s barely able to keep his lips turned upward for long.

Robert’s expression doesn’t soften even a bit, just grows more dark and displeasured. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can the trailer door swings open.

“Oh excellent,” Harriet states, coming in with a smile, happy to see both of them. “This should save me some time.”

She must sense the tension in the air, the trailer now thick with the smell of it. Her smile fades and she looks between them, then asks, “Everything alright?”

Aaron chances a glance at Robert and finds him looking almost inscrutable. (Though to be fair, his mind hasn’t moved on from the fact that he’s practically naked.)

“Just fine,” Aaron says, with another thin smile, this one a little easier than that first one.

He’s not sure if she believes him, but she does nod anyway, so he finds that to be heartening.

“There’s been a bit of a change in the shooting schedule, seeing as the weather forecast for today is a bit unexpected,” Harriet tells them, looking from Aaron over to Robert. “So we’re going to try and do today’s scenes tomorrow, and tomorrow’s stuff today. You fine with that?”

Aaron thinks real fast, runs through his memory, trying to figure out what tomorrow brings. He realises it a second later, his stomach sinking quickly, filled with dread about how they’re going to do this.

“Yeah, sure,” Robert replies, sounding quite casual, like what’s about to happen isn’t a big deal to him.

Aaron doesn’t know whether to be hurt or happy, so he just files it as a temporary win. He nods his acceptance when Harriet looks at him questioningly, then follows it up with a, “Should be fine.”

“Perfect! I’ll let the rest of the cast know, and I’ll get makeup in here first thing,” Harriet says, smiling in relief. “Why don’t you two work on any blocking you feel you might need? Especially since all of this is short notice.”

She turns and leaves, the door slamming shut behind her. Leaving nothing but aching silence.

When Aaron finally hazards a glance, he sees that Robert’s staring down at his script page, all focused like if he stares hard enough he can change what just happened.

“So do you want to…” Aaron starts, gesturing between them, unsure what else to say. He kicks himself mentally once again, for ruining any progress in the working relationship between them.

Robert sighs, long and deep, then says, “Suppose we can just figure it out when we both get there.”

He only looks at Aaron when he’s done talking, like he can’t bear to look at him.

Aaron nods his agreement. “Cool. Better get going then. Get into today’s ‘costume.’”

It’s meant to be a joke but Robert doesn’t respond. Just nods back at him pensively.

Aaron desperately wants to ask if everything’s alright between them, but he doesn’t want to make the situation any worse than it seems to be already.

“Yeah, great. See you on set,” Robert finally says, turning away, and walking towards the opposite end of his trailer. A non-verbal dismissal.

Aaron exits, then shuts the door, letting out a sigh as he leans back against it.

It was every bit as awkward as he’d expected — only now it’s been ratcheted up to a million. They’re going to need every single bit of their acting skills if they’re going to sell what’s about to happen. Because Aaron’s not sure how else he and Robert are going to get through the rest of this day, when they’ll both be shooting Thomas and Felix’ first sex scene.

:::::

He stands there, script page in hand and a growing pit in his stomach, as Robert Sugden walks up to him with a grin.

“What you waiting for? Get your kit off.”

The words hit him before the tone does, Robert’s voice sounding teasing but brittle. Aaron’s eyes shoot up towards him, and he sees that the smile on his face is nowhere near his eyes and he’s clearly keeping up pretences.

Right, of course, Aaron tells himself, after getting over the initial surprise of it. We’re all actors here. No point pretending.

It’s silly and it shouldn’t sting as much as it does but Aaron’s still aches at Robert’s reaction. It’s one thing to not be interested in his romantic advances, but it’s another thing to pretend they completely didn’t happen. (He knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way, seeing as he’d actually prayed they could do this last night. But now that he’s living the exact reality he’d hoped for, he knows to be careful what you wish for.)

Still, he smiles right back, feels it hurt to even do so, as he lobs back a response of his own. Both of them standing there in bathrobes.

“Why don’t you get yours off first?”

Robert’s eyes widen, but his smile never falters. Instead, he winks and says, loud enough for anyone standing close by to hear, “Looks like you’ll be getting your wish soon enough.”

Aaron rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are still blushing, Robert having hit upon a wish from his youth.

Thankfully, Robert doesn’t see it, Harriet having arrived on the closed, private set, the number of people limited to just her, the two of them, and a small team of production people.

When she gives them a nod, they both strip out of their robes, both of them left standing naked, except for their actors’ modesty socks hiding their cocks and balls. Aaron does his best to keep his gaze level and facing forward, as he goes and finds his mark. The scene involves Felix making love to Thomas, on the floor of the latter’s barn.

The wooden floorboards are tad bit cool and just a little prickly — stray stalks of hay strewn across them — Aaron discovers as his bare back and arse come to rest against them, the sensation causing his skin to stand on end and his back wanting to arch off of it.

Aaron doesn’t have much time to process it, because now Robert’s crawling into his position, slowly lowering himself across Aaron and coming to rest on both his forearms. Aaron keeps his eyes pointed towards the barn ceiling and the rig of artificial lighting, hoping to make things as less awkward as possible.

He can feel Robert’s breath against his cheek, and the heat of him on his arms and chest as they silently hold these poses for the lighting check; Robert is now laying between Aaron’s spread and bent thighs, his arse exposed for everyone to see — not that he seems to care or even looks embarrassed. Instead, Aaron can feel him looking down at him, pinning him to the ground where he’s laying. Still, he refuses to look back at him, his heart furiously beating, as he refuses to make even a hint of eye contact; his last vestige of privacy.

“This isn’t going to work,” Robert says with a sigh after what feels like a day and an age, and Aaron feels his stomach clench, preparing for Robert to clamber off him, already missing him despite no part of them really touching at the moment. “Not if you don’t look at me.”

That gets Aaron’s attention and he looks up into Robert’s eyes, where he finds nothing but calm and watchful understanding.

“What?” He whispers, not meaning to come off so rude, but he’s nervous about what Robert might say and this is a pre-emptive strike — a test to see if he can handle it.

“About yesterday-” Robert begins, and Aaron immediately protests.

“I thought we were done talking about it.”

“No,” Robert insists, voice firm and kind of steely. “You talked about it. I just listened.”

Aaron swallows and lays there, his heart in his ears, as he wishes himself anywhere but here.

But then without warning, Robert dips down and kisses him, a firm press across his lips before a tongue swipes against the bottom one. Aaron grants him eager entry.

Robert pulls back, a half a moment later, remains naked and panting over Aaron.

“What was that?” Aaron asks, body locked in surprise, though his cock is already having a bit of a reaction. He tries his hardest not to think about it.

“What I wish I’d done last night,” Robert replies, speaking softly, as he shoots Aaron a tentative smile. “What I wish I’d done this morning.”

“You mean…” Aaron trails off, struggling to compute, still feeling like this puzzle is missing a few pieces. Any thoughts about his dick fall by the wayside.

“I like you, Aaron,” Robert says like it’s a well known fact, and not something he just demonstrated with his tongue down Aaron’s throat. “And as you can see, I don’t really care who knows it.”

Aaron glances around and sees that no one’s really paying them much attention, Harriet studying the film monitors in front of her from the director’s seat, the sound guys standing and chatting in the corner.

“Guess that’s a relief,” Aaron finally sighs, when he comes back to look up at Robert’s face. “Seein’ as I like you too.”

It’s like a wave ripples between them because suddenly they’re both touching in millions of tiny ways. Robert’s arms move a little closer, Aaron’s a little wider, both their limbs now settling together. Robert’s planking position lowers, causing him to actually lay across Aaron, their chests just centimetres apart, even as their belly buttons touch, and their cocks, swaddled in their actors’ modesty socks now rest against each other; both steadily hardening. (Aaron smiles as he realises that, flushed with pride that Robert Sugden wants him.)

“So, you going to kiss me back or what?” Robert then asks, smiling down at Aaron, his arms framing either side of his face.

Aaron shakes his head, grinning back cheekily. “Thought we’d save it for the camera.”

:::::

When Harriet yells, “Action,” Robert’s focused and gazing into his eyes. But he doesn’t lunge forward like Aaron expects him to.

Instead, he slowly comes forward, nudges his nose against Aaron’s, before touching their lips together and letting them hover that way for a second, before increasing the pressure, one hand coming to holding the side of Aaron’s face.

Slowly, Aaron’s waiting lips part, as he opens his mouth and lets his tongue curl and slide against Robert’s; allowing him to steal the breath right out of him.

They kiss like that for a couple of minutes, Aaron’s hands sliding up Robert’s back to wrap around the balls of his shoulders, half holding, half gently kneading.

Slowly and gently, Robert starts to rock in place, dragging his thick and hard cock against Aaron’s. He may be simulating sex, but the feelings are all real, as Aaron feels his own shaft throbbing and aching harder.

Robert kisses his way down his jaw, and then his neck and then his chest, Aaron’s back arching unconsciously against him.

Robert comes back up kiss at his lips, the movement of his hips growing faster.

Aaron closes his eyes and pictures his teenage self and all his exploration of sexuality with another boy in his class in the local village pavilion. None of that compares to Felix and Thomas’ first time, none of that compares to this moment with Robert.

Another wave comes over him and he gives himself into it, rolling them over so Robert is now under him; shaggy hair blending with the straw on the wooden floorboards. Aaron takes his lips in his and resumes their kissing.

He continues to grind, increasing the pressure and speed just a little, chasing that spark that shoots through him when their cocks touch through their socks at just the right spot. He can feels his balls tighten and Robert groan into his mouth, the sound of it soaked with wanting. His own cock feels swollen, now more than thick and leaking, the leaking come making the fabric stick to him and his erect shaft more than sensitive.

Aaron can see his climax rising on the horizon, can feel it gathering at the base of his spine, the pressure building to a tall cresting wave, threatening to crash down over him. Under him, Robert continues softly groaning, loose hands scoring up and down Aaron’s back; the movements causing a little thrill of pleasure.

Then just when his orgasm starts to move towards his peak, pushed onward by the friction between their penises, he hears a sound that causes him to stop almost instantly, and Robert to whine under him.

Aaron lays there panting, cock now more than aching, he curses the gods and this particular profession. He brings his forehead to rest against Robert’s. The sweat on both their brows mingling as the chill in the barn begins to set in.

“Alright,” says Harriet from somewhere behind them. Her voice is firm and brooks no questions. So they know better than to protest it. “This was great. But let’s try that again.”

Aaron drops his head into Robert’s neck and groans.

:::::

An hour later he starts to wonder if Harriet is doing this intentionally; guiding them close to the edge with her takes and directions, only to cause them to pull back again, just adding to their rising frustrations.

His only solace is the presence of Robert, who moves from over to under — and even one time, beside — him, as they keep kissing and grinding against each other for the camera; both more sensitive than ever.

“Come back to mine after,” Aaron grunts softly in the middle of one take, too soft for the boom controller to hear him. Robert’s mouth nipping at his shoulder.

“And do what?” Robert whispers, when Aaron rolls them over. It’s clear that he’s a little beyond thinking.

Aaron gets it, biting his tongue as a wave of pleasure sweeps through him.

“What do you think?” He asks, through gritted teeth, as his hips begin simulating trusting. Then he grins slyly as he looks down into Robert’s unfocused eyes.

“Reckon we could run lines or something.”

:::::

They bolt off set before Harriet can even declare it a wrap — or pull either one aside to talk to them — neither of them able to keep the smile off their faces. Aaron tries not to speed, or run a red light, but it’s a struggle with Robert’s right hand on his thigh, slowly inching higher and higher the entire time.

He manages to still his breathing — and his body’s tetchy reaction — as they exit the vehicle and later enter his building. In fact, they make it all the way up and into his flat, without him making even a single move to try and tear Robert’s clothes off.

“Nice place,” Robert says, as Aaron shuts and locks the door behind. Aaron glances around at the classic film posters on his own living room walls and the lived-in state of his sofa; the prime location for all his movie marathons between projects.

“Thought you might want to see it,” Aaron says coming up to stand in front of him, his hands coming to rest on Robert’s lips.

“You were right about that,” Robert says, though his focus is on him. He smiles and adds, “I’m a big fan of Aaron Dingle.”

Aaron smiles back. There’s a flutter in his chest, like a flock of birds flying back after winter. He swallows roughly and gives his answer, his voice coming out rougher as his gaze drops to Rober’s lips, “I’m right about a lot of things. Guess you’re going to have to remind me.”

That’s all it takes because Robert’s lips are on his, with all the urgency of a man drowning.

Aaron grabs at his jacket and starts pushing it off him, as he also walks him to the bedroom.

They stumble a little, the room still a mess from this morning, Robert grabbing Aaron’s biceps so as to not trip backwards over a pair of kicked trainers lying in the middle of the floor.

“You know, a little tidying never hurt anyone,” Robert says coming back in for a kiss.

“Do you want to talk cleaning, or do you want to fuck?” Aaron growls back, still very frustrated from this morning.

Robert stripping him of his hoodie is his answer.

Grinning into the kiss, Aaron tugs Robert’s shirt up and out of his jeans and then makes quick work of the buttons up front — not caring if he loses one. He pushes it off him, and trails kisses down his neck, before pausing to nip once at his collarbone.

Robert inhales sharply, pressing closer into him. So Aaron does it again, just a little bit harder, earning him a groaned, Aaron.

Smiling again, he licks the same area once, then kisses it as if to make it better. Then he turns his attention to Robert’s jeans, his dick already bulging in the front of it.

Robert’s hands are once again moving, pushing Aaron’s own jeans down to pool against his feet. He tries to step out of them, while undoing Robert’s belt buckle, only to feel one of Robert cup his cock through the fabric of his boxers, the pressure firm but gentle.

Aaron lets out a gasp as Robert just chuckles, “Well, hello there Mr. Dingle.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Aaron asks, as he tried to focus on the jeans button in front of him, Robert’s cock already straining against his zipper, as his hand slips from outside Aaron’s boxers into them, drawing out a shuddered gasp as he squeezes his erection.

“Make me,” Robert says with a smug little grin, the words a low purr that goes straight to Aaron’s eardrum.

Aaron takes him up on his offer, kissing him thoroughly, before pushing him back against his mattress.

A thrill runs up his back as he sees a mostly naked Robert Sugden, resting on his elbows and across the unmade purple sheets of his bed. He kneels down at the base of his bed, then reaches up and pulls the hem of Robert’s underwear down. His cock springs out, already wet and leaking, and every bit as long and thick as Aaron had expected.

He runs a hand up it, giving it a test of a stroke, in front of him Robert twitches.

Pleased with the response, Aaron leans forward and hovers over it, feeling Robert’s eyes watching carefully. Then he smiles up at him, before dropping his head down as he sets up about fulfilling a fantasy.

On either side of his head, Robert’s thighs jerking and flexing — just like that first day in the trailer. Only this time it’s Aaron with his mouth on his cock, him being the one to draw the groans out of Robert.

Down between his own legs, his cock is once again aching, having been denied release too many times in one day. Aaron wraps a hand around it, smearing his own pre-come over his head and down around it, his thumb flicking the edge of his frenulum and causing a thrill of excitement. He keeps on steadily stroking.

When he feels Robert nearing the edge — now more than well-versed in his body — Aaron pulls off and hears the expected moan of disappointment. He gives him a kiss as he reaches for the lube, eager to avoid a painful experience.

He slides two fingers in, gently twisting and scissoring, Robert groaning and pushing down into it.

When he feels he’s ready, Aaron slides his now slick dick into Robert and gets a satisfied sigh for his efforts.

He waits a second for Robert to adjust to the discomfort, but all he gets is grunted, “Hurry up and fuck me.”

Doing as he says, Aaron sets up a punishing pace, the front of his thighs smacking against the back of Robert’s in a satisfying rhythm.

It’s not too long before he feels his climax once again approaching, having been at the edge of his fingertips all day. Below him, Robert’s busy stroking himself as he keeps on moaning Aaron’s name, punctuated by a gasp every time Aaron hits that special spot.

His neck is tipped back and his eyes are tight shut, his hand is rapidly pumping, Robert lost to the build of his own orgasm.

With his own edge within sight, Aaron makes a quick decision, he leans down, hips still rolling as he positions himself right beside Robert’s ear, and then whispers, “It was you I liked, not Pete Barton.”

He hears Robert’s strangled cry and his come hit his chest. It’s enough to make him come inside him.

:::::

He wakes up a few hours later to Robert on his phone, just laying next to him naked. The white light from the small iPhone screen illuminates the side profile of his face in a strong but gentle white glow; his features looking like he was sculpted from marble.

There’s a fondness in his eyes and a glow in his cheeks as he lays on his back, biting his bottom lip, staring at the screen intently, probably skimming the news on a gossip news site. (Aaron actually reads a few of them himself, a couple proving quite reliable in terms of casting news and breakdowns.)

“Anything good?” He asks, when he’s drunk his fill — though he’s finding that his thirst for Robert might be bottomless.

Robert doesn’t startle or even really flinch, just looks over at him like he was gently awakened. His smile is radiant — but more so in this light, white teeth flashing in the phone light, which also renders his freckles a little paler.

“Nothing as good as what’s right here,” Robert says, affection coming through loud and clear. He then lifts his right arm above his head, an open invitation.

Aaron accepts it, shuffling in closer, and bringing the covers with him. He snuggles in closer until his head is resting on the ball of Robert’s shoulder as he turns himself sideways on his left side. Robert’s arm comes back down, wrapping around his back and resting on the curve of his arse.

When Aaron turns towards the phone screen he sees instead that it’s a book, Robert’s attention instead captured by some kind of video.

It takes him a second to clock what’s happening on screen, because then he gasps in disbelief.

“Are you watching my episode of Black Mirror?” He shifts to gaze up at him, searching Robert’s face for any detail of an answer.

“Why?” He asks, horrified.

Robert turns from the phone to look down at him, and then says without any embarrassment or shame. “The first time I ever saw this, I knew I had to meet you.”

“You’re joking me,” Aaron barks a laugh. “My character was mental.”

“Yeah,” Robert agrees, his index finger now rubbing a lazy circle into Aaron’s hip, the feel and motion of it deeply soothing. “But you played him with such intensity.”

“Probably just thought I was fit, or something,” Aaron protests, rolling his eyes at Robert. “I spent half the episode naked.”

“Well, obviously there was that,” Robert concedes, but even with his playful tone, Aaron can tell he still means it. That he’d actually been attracted to Aaron’s acting.

“Does this mean you fantasized about me?” Aaron asks cheekily, even though he’s nervous about the answer.

“If I didn’t, I’d be mental,” Robert says with all the confidence in the world, like this is an undisputed fact.

He’d wanted to hear it, but it still makes him blush. Aaron rolls inward towards Robert’s shoulder. Robert’s hand and finger don’t stop their circling.

“Shut up,” he chides him gently.

“It’s true though,” Robert admits, voice quiet in the night, his face growing ever more thoughtful. “It’s why I wanted to do this project. Figure at least this way I’d get a chance to work with you.”

“More like, hoped you’d get a chance to shag me,” Aaron retorts, but there’s nothing in his voice but affectionate lightness.

“Not going to lie and say I didn’t dream about that,” Robert chuckles. “Though I did really hope you might be bisexual as well.”

“Worked out in the end, I suppose,” Aaron says quietly.

Robert hums his agreement. On his phone screen a younger version of Aaron fights against a male co-star.

Time passes, a few more moments go by, then Aaron says, trying not to keep the worry from creeping into his voice too much, “You know, if people find out about us, we might have to come out publicly.”

He doesn’t want to say it, but he feels like he has to, not wanting to cost Robert his career. “You could lose the Bond role.”

“I told you, Aaron, I don’t care who finds out.” It doesn’t sound flippant, and it doesn’t sound thrown away. It sounds sure as can be and confident. “Didn’t exactly take this job to prove I could do my own stunts. Though I think we both did well on that front.”

Robert pinches his hip as if to underscore the point, sending a spark of shock right through him. Aaron startles and arches his back closer, his bare chest now snug into Robert’s side.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Aaron grumbles poking his chest. Under his left ear, Robert shakes with quiet laughter.

“Yes, but an idiot you like,” Robert says when he can finally answer. “And an idiot you had a crush on.”

Aaron rubs his hip sorely. “I can still kick you out of bed, you know.”

“You wouldn’t do that to a poor, defenceless, idiot,” Robert offers in his defence. Aaron just rolls his eyes at it.

“Do you seriously ever shut up?” He questions, not really annoyed.

Robert’s voice is low when he replies, “Like I said. Go ahead and make me.”

Aaron comes up for a kiss.

:::::

They do come out eventually, when doing the rounds to promote the movie, and all their fears are brushed aside as it makes their stock rise even higher. Suddenly they have interviews scheduled with all the top publications, with joint profiles in both The Guardian and Variety. (Aaron asks his mum to go buy extras of both, his idea to have them framed as an eventual moving-in present.)

The movie’s a success as it starts to do the circuit, opening first in limited release and then going wider and wider. It garners great reviews, most of it focusing on Aaron and Robert’s performance, with plenty of mentions of their chemistry. (Robert particularly likes reading those aloud in bed, pulling them up on his phone not long after Aaron awakens.)

Amongst all the furor and the immense fan support, the good news start to trickle in. George Miller wants to meet Aaron to discuss a possible part in Mad Max, while Robert has a meeting about playing Bond after all. As it turns out, times are very definitely changing, and the minds in charge of the franchise have decided they’d quite like to adapt along with it. Neither of them expect anything to actually come of it. But they still joke about Robert wearing that suit and celebrate.

A few months after that, Harriet calls waking them both up, the film — as well as both their performances and her direction — having been nominated for an Oscar. They lay there together, Robert’s phone on speaker on Aaron’s bare chest, his cheek close beside it, neither of them daring to breathe in their shocked silence.

Aaron cracks first, a long and loud laugh, seconds later Robert starts to join him.

“Can you believe it?” Robert asks, lifting his head. The diffused sunlight from the hotel room balcony window backlights him, showing off his bedhead in all its glory.

“Sure I can,” Aaron shrugs easily, taking in the high cheekbones and the freckles dotting them, the unexpected pinkness of Robert’s lips. Then he looks into Robert’s eager eyes, letting the now-alert green and blue wash over him. “Harriet Finch, innit?”

“But you and me, nominated for an Oscar…” Robert quietly marvels. “Do you think we could win?”

Aaron just watches him, memorising this face, already planning their celebration. He brings a hand up, and cups Robert’s cheek, stroking a thumb across a warm cheekbone. Then he leans up, gives him a soft kiss, then lies back, his head hitting the pillow.

Robert’s eyes open slowly, and his smile grows softer; a small one that he reserves for Aaron.

“Reckon we could,” Aaron says, feeling himself return it. “Who doesn’t love a good love story?”

#robron #long post #robron secret santa #robron fanfiction #notforonesecond

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petri808 · 6 years

Text

Coming of Age

@nalulovelovefest -Day 4 Unbearable Rated M- NSFW

Just another day for the friends as Natsu and Lucy walk into the Fairytail guild that morning to check the job board. She had insisted on taking an easy job without him to make some extra spending money, but as soon as they reach the board to peruse the offerings, Gajeel gestures at Natsu to talk. That was a bit odd, they weren’t close, and usually their dealing were to throw jabs at each other.

With an eye still on Lucy, Natsu crosses his arms expecting a fight, “what is it, metal head?”

“I heard your birthday is coming up, how old are ya gonna be?”

“Why?” Natsu pauses as he calculates the years, “I think 21.”

A wide smirk crosses over Gajeel, “in that case, how’s your relationship with bunny girl? You guys still just friends or what?”

“She’s my best friend that’s all,” narrowing his eyes, “since when do you care?”

“Gehe! Guess no one’s told ya about a slayer’s 21’st year.”

Natsu cocks his head to the side, “do I get a bigger party or something?”

With a hearty laugh, he slaps Natsu in the shoulder and starts to walk away, “well something’s gonna get bigger!”

“Oi!” Natsu calls after him, “What the hell do you mean?” But Gajeel keeps walking and laughing at a joke only he knew the answer to. Muttering obscenities at the iron slayers back, Natsu almost didn’t realize Lucy had come up behind him.

“What was that all about?”

He freezes and turns to her voice, “beats me,” shrugging his shoulders, “said something about a slayer’s 21stbirthday and wanting a bigger party.”

“Bigger party,” she tilts her head slightly, “you want a bigger party?”

“No, I’m cool with hanging out with just you actually. I don’t need anything special.”

A slight blush falls on Lucy’s cheeks, “well um, speaking of that. I found an easy mission I’m gonna go do so I can buy your gift. I should be back in a 2-3 days,” showing him the flyer for waitress help, “the tips are usually good here.”

Since it wasn’t anything exciting, she expected Natsu to simply wish her luck, so she was a bit surprised when the slayer’s demeanor slipped into irritation. “I don’t know if I like that idea,” his brows furrowed. “Guys give you bigger tips cause they’re checking you out.”

“So? Isn’t that kinda the point? It’s not like they get anything else from me.”

He scratches his head in confusion, since when did he care about Lucy taking waitressing jobs? “I’m sorry, I don’t know why that came out like that. It’s fine, maybe I’ll take something easy too. Are they looking for waiters, I could help ya out?”

“Hmm,” Lucy re-reads the flyer, “it’s doesn’t specify only females, so I don’t see why not.” Looking back at her friend, “but are you sure, cause you could probably find something with action instead on the board.”

“Nah.” His trademark smile making an entrance, “I could use the extra cash too.” Natsu holds out his hand, “faster we get there the more money you can make.”

“Okay,” she smiles and takes it, “having company will be less lonely too.”

Or maybe not. While Natsu always made their missions livelier, and sometimes embarrassing, this was the first time that Lucy actually started to worry about her friend. Only a day into the job and she had started talking about going home. It seemed that his little comment back at the guild had just been a preview of what was to come. First, it was just glaring at the male customers from a distance, then it turned into taking the tables with guys on them before she could. Was Natsu trying to keep her away from them?

When she’d question it, he acted like she was just imagining things and flash his grin. When she mentioned the word jealousy he scoffed, what did he have to be jealous of? It was true, it’s not like these customers were going to steal her away or even did really anything to deserve the insinuation except look in her direction. Eventually it became, he ‘sensed’ foul motives from the men, whatever the hell that even meant. All she knew, is it was killing her tips and getting on the managers nerves.

So, by the time they reached their motel room on the second night, Lucy confronted the slayer. “Natsu, you are totally not acting like yourself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She crosses her arms, “I know what protective Natsu looks like and this is more like, I don’t know, a possessive and jealous Natsu instead.” He huffs and looks away as she fires question after question at him. “What was it that Gajeel told you? What is so special about your birthday? How is it related to being a slayer? Why would he say you’d want a bigger party? It has to mean something. Is it embarrassing and that’s why you won’t tell me?”

“He didn’t tell me anything I swear! I figured he was just trying to get on my nervous, you know how he is.” Natsu reaches to uncurl her arms, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m acting weird. Stuff comes out of my mouth before I can think…”

Rolling her eyes, “that’s not new.”

“Okay I deserved that crack, but seriously, you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or make you sad on purpose.”

Lucy’s body slowly relaxes, “I know you wouldn’t…”

“You’re my best friend,” he leans his forehead to hers, “can’t fault me for being protective over that.”

With a sigh, Lucy’s hand moves up to rest over his heart, “just please try to be nicer to the customers tomorrow Natsu. I really want to give you a nice gift, but I can’t if I don’t make enough tips.”

“Okay.”

That night, as soon as the dreams took hold of the slayer, he was sent into a situation hotter than any fire he’d ever consumed. It was like every wet dream, wanton desire, and covetous thought he’d ever had of his best friend was manifesting into an eroticism that would shock the most perverted of minds and there was nothing he could do but indulge in the fantasy. Natsu’s body craved every touch this dream woman was giving him, hungered to taste her flesh, to suckle at her mountains and traverse her hidden valleys. Dear god, he thirsted for… her blood!

So, startled by the physical aspects of the dream, it had actually woken him up in a panic, afraid that it was real. Flushed with sweat, his sheets soaked through and lightly singed, clearly Natsu had been experiencing something. He quickly checks the other bed in the room and while she had kicked her blankets off, probably from a rise in room temperature, Lucy appeared to still be asleep. Thank goodness for small favors.

He’d had a few fantasy dreams about a certain celestial mage, but never of this magnitude before. If he licked his lips, the taste of her skin was still fresh, her scent was still heady, and his fingertips tingled from touches that weren’t even real. What the hell was that all about! This was Lucy he was dreaming about! Lucy! Natsu shudders from the very idea of doing to her what he had in the dream. It didn’t matter if the imaginary one begged for it. She wasn’t real, there was no way in hell he could just take the real Lucy… ‘that’s what Gajeel was getting at!’ “Ugh…” he drops back onto the bed, ‘bastard could’a warned me!’ Too afraid to go back to sleep, Natsu opts for a cold shower instead and maybe a bit of handled relief.

Once the bathroom door closes, Lucy takes a chance and partially opens her eyes, but as soon as she hears the shower turn on, and could gauge about how long he would be, they pop open and she sits up. For about an hour the celestial mage had stayed wide awake, unsure of what to make of her best friend in the other bed, and with no clue as to what to do. With the amount of twisting and moaning Natsu was doing, it didn’t take a lot of imagination to guess the kind of dream he was having. And she’d be a hypocrite to chastise him for something she herself has had on occasion. But what had worried her, was when the temperature in the room had started to feel like a raging bonfire and even in the dark, she could see heat waves coming from his body. Frankly, if it had carried on for too much longer Lucy would have had to wake him up or flee in fear of a real fire bursting forth from the man.

First the weird behavior at the guild, then the restaurant, and now the slayer was having erotic dreams?! Lucy had no idea if this was a normal occurrence for Natsu, but considering Gajeel’s comments, maybe these were all tied together somehow. But as what?! A few minutes later the shower turns off and Lucy quickly dives back under the covers, positioning her arm in a way to hide her eyes from view but still keep them a little open.

When the door opens, her heart skips a beat as the slayer appears in the frame with just a towel wrapped around his waist and outlined by the glow of an overhead light. ‘Stop it,’ she groans internally, ‘it’s not the first time you’ve seen him like…. Oh, Mavis help me!’ As he simply walks over to his duffle, drops the towel and begins to put on a new outfit. Bending down to pull on his boxers, the muscles in his ass and thighs flexing… Lucy knew she should close her eyes but damn it they weren’t cooperating! Suddenly, his foot catches on the leg part. He stumbles, body twisting slightly and revealing what she knew from Erza’s smut books to be… ‘EEK!’ Lucy barely catches the scream that bubbled up in her throat.

But not quickly enough. Natsu’s head whips around, eyes trained on Lucy who squeezes hers shut and forces her breathing to still. “Are you awake Luce?” He could’a sworn he’d heard something… Her breathing seemed typical, eyes closed, body motionless, but something had changed. Pulling up his boxers, he tilts his nose and takes a deep inhale. Yes, her scent was definitely a little headierthan usual and now that he was firmly aware of it... Natsu runs a hand down his face, he was probably going to regret this, but he quietly walks over and lifts the blankets as gently as he could to release more scent…. And it hits, as soon as he lifts past her waist the scent becomes too potent. He drops the blanket uncaring if it woke her and rushed back to the bathroom, locking himself in.

Lucy’s eyes fly open, what the hell just freaked Natsu out? She looks down at her body, nothing was different about her than when they’d gone to bed. For all intents and purposes, she was sure he thought she was asleep. Unable to simply ignore the situation anymore, she sneaks up to the bathroom door, listening for any cues that might help her unravel the mystery. But what she hears was certainly eye opening.

Through hushed tones and mumbled jargon, things like mate, horny,and sex were spilling from Natsu’s lips. Instincts kicking in, can’t do that to her…. Who the hell was ‘her’? She wondered, did Natsu have a crush she didn’t know about? Scent, triggered…. A cold sweat settling over the spirit mage, scent, what scent? And that’s when the rug was pulled out. After a noisy exhale on his part, that frankly sounded like a deep moan trying to be suppressed, Lucy, fuck, I want you so bad… She clasps a hand over her mouth, as if the embarrassment of seeing him naked wasn’t enough, but he wasn’t done yet. Ashamed, doesn’t want me…. Asuka… kiss….

Oh, Mavis he thinks I don’t like him! It’s true that in that long-ago moment, when Asuka was telling them to kiss she’d gotten cold-feet, but…. I’ve gotta fix this somehow! Swallowing her embarrassment and steeling her resolve, Lucy gingerly knocks at the door. “Natsu, please come out of there.”

She hears him suck in a breath before responding. “I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can,” doing her best to hide her anxiety while still sounding normal, “Natsu, I think….” she deeply exhales, “I know what I want to give you for your birthday. It’s something money cannot buy. So please,” voice cracking, “come out here so I can give it to you.”

Natsu cringes away from the door, his suspicions now confirmed that she had been up, she’d probably heard him, oh crap had she been up through the dream too! All of his fears were coming to fruition and he was trapped in the bathroom! His eye flit over to the small window, maybe I could break out of here…. Gah! I can’t run out on her like that! But how am I supposed to face her!

The longer Natsu remained silent, an anxious Lucy starts to pace as doubt-fueled concerns slip into her mind. Had she been wrong about it all? But he’d said her name and she was sure there wasn’t any other Lucy’s around him. Then again, she could have mistaken the context of his words… Holding back the tears, “alright I’m sorry, I won’t push you. Maybe, I was wrong about how you felt about me after all.” She turns her back to the door as a few tears leak down her cheek and her hopes dashed like a wrecked ship against the shore. “I’ll just see you in the morning.”

Now he’d gone and done it. Natsu could smell the salt of her tears, heard the whimper behind her words. He hated when Lucy cried, his blood boiled whenever someone made her cry, and now, I’m one of those bastards…. But he could fix this. Slapping himself in the face, this was for Lucy, goddammit! The girl he’s always wanted, and it seems she wanted him too! Grow a pair and go comfort your woman you idiot! He growls at himself, I know, I know! and throws open the door.

The loud bang of the door slamming open, makes Lucy jump but she doesn’t turn around. Part of her wanted to run to her bed and dive under the covers, but the other half wanted to know….

Hands snake around her midsection, nails dragging across the taunt surface and sending shivers all throughout her body. Whispers, heated with amorous intent fill her ear, “why would you think I wouldn’t want you…” Moving to the other ear, “do you have any idea how much I’ve wanted you for years? It’s been unbearable at times, but I respected our friendship.”

“Y-Years?”

“And now this instinct crap is making that damn near impossible.” He weaves a hand up to her throat, tilting her head to the side. “Now do see why I was afraid to come out?” Letting his canines drag against her skin and relishing all the little quivers it gives her. “Is this what you want Lucy? Even now I’m barely able to hold myself back from just taking you as my mate whether you…”

“Do it,” she blurts out. “That’s what I was gonna tell you. My gift to you… i-is me.”

He straightens out, “Wait, what?”

“You’re right, I was afraid of ruining our friendship too but,” Lucy turns around in his arms and punches his chest, “you big idiot, of course you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted!”

That’s all he needed to hear. A reverberating growl sends a heated tremor straight through Lucy seconds before she found herself pushed up against the wall and her night shirt being yanked over her head. Natsu latches onto the nape of her neck, licking and suckling at her pulse point. The feeling of his sharp canines ghosting over her flesh had Lucy mewling and moisture saturated her panties as a result. Natsu grins at the added scent she was giving off and slides his hand into the fabric, oh it was soaked!

More groans leach forth from the frazzled woman as his finger, then two slips into her pussy. While his other hand toys with her breasts and his mouth works on her neck, those fingers test the waters, curling, pumping at differing speeds to see which pulled the greatest reactions. Natsu was like a cat loving on a new toy and all of Lucy’s vocalizations only fueled his actions. He pulls his face back to observe the contortion of hers, pumping even harder to increase her cries. Natsu licks his lips as a new idea rolls into his brain.

He slides his hand out of her panties and pulls away from her. Lucy’s about to throw a fit when he suddenly drops to his knees, cuts the offending fabric away and hoists her onto his shoulders. “What are you….” a slurry of expletives gushes forth and she grips to his hair when his mouth consumes her pussy. Leave it to Natsu to devour her like an all you can eat buffet.

It was his turn to moan and salivate over the delicacy, lapping up all her sexual juices before it could flow past his chin. “Fuck… tastes… yum,” his mouth too busy sucking on her clit or tongue rolling the little bud to worry about sentences. Natsu slides his fingers back in to her pussy, pumping at a rapid pace and that sends Lucy’s body arching, legs clamping around his head just to keep from falling off.

All the stimulation was pushing Lucy past the point of no return. “Natsu you’re gonna make me cum!” but her cries were falling on deaf ears, for he was too engrossed in his ministrations. Her scents, her taste, her cries, all mingling and clouding his mind in a euphoria of its own. “Nat…suuuu!!!” it was only when Lucy’s body stiffened and was practically strangling him with her thighs, that he realized…. Something arcane takes over his mind and while Lucy is in the throes of the orgasm, his canine nicks her outer labia. She flinches briefly, but with a few flicks of his tongue to seal the tiny pin prick, it was almost like nothing had happened. If anything, those additional strokes by his tongue against her overly stimulated folds gave her a few more electric jolts and he made sure to slurp up any excess flow of moisture.

“Y-you bit me didn’t you,” she pants, unable regulate her breathing at the moment.

He shifts her legs off his shoulders, “Mmhmm,” was his only response because he was too fixated on completing his conquest, scoops her back up and drops her onto the bed.

“But why… does it have to do with…”

“Don’t know, brain just told me do it.” Crawling over her body, “no goin back now Luce,” he grins and burns off his boxers. Lucy flinched the instant his body flared up, even closing her eyes…. Eh? No burning pain! She opens them to see his cocky smile, “guess there was a reason for it after all.”

“Could’a warned me! Oomph!” Natsu seizes upon her lips and smothers anymore complaints from the blonde with passion laden kisses. Trailing them along her jaw line, nibbling, teasing, testing for sweet spots until the heady aromatics wafting from his mate’s body give up their secrets. Lucy’s natural pheromones were changing, melding into a combination of her florals to his smokier musk driving his inner dragon even wilder. He moves lower to suckle at her breasts, placing love bites around the pillowy flesh, his hands caressing the rest of her body, curving with the swell of her hips, and molding along the firm flesh of her abdomen, as visions of filling it with his seed take hold.

Natsu almost howls from the images of a pregnant Lucy carrying their child dancing in his mind. Fuck yes! Lucy will be a perfect mother, he just knows it! Wow, why hadn’t he thought of this sooner! Coveting her lips once more, his pelvis shifts and centers, pressing his cock against her folds. She mewls its welcome, arching her body and weaving her legs over his thighs to apply pressure. So, Natsu lifts his hips and lines up. With unspoken cues, she nods, biting her lip in anticipation of the pain that may come and he’s not blind to them, sending warmth to his cock for added heat to soothe the muscles. The last thing this dragon wanted to do was cause his mate pain.

Slow and measured, he pushes through Lucy’s walls, cringing whenever her face contorts even just a little. She appreciated the gentleness of Natsu’s actions, even the heating gesture for it was helping to relax her. Once seated as far as he could go, Natsu caresses her cheek, smoothing his thumb over the silky skin, and placing chaste little kisses upon her lips. “I love you Luce…”

She smiles, returning his kisses, “I love you too.” Readjusting her frame, when Lucy feels it’s a more comfortable angle, she grinds her hips to show she’s ready. Through half-lidded eyes and with a purr in her tone, “now slay me oh dragon.”

Cocking an eyebrow, “you are so weird Luce, why would I slay my mate?”

Oh, brother. “Never mind,” she chuckles, “I meant, fuck me Natsu.” And as if to drive the point home, bucks her hips roughly.

“Well why didn’t you just say so!”

With measured thrusts, Natsu rocks into Lucy, pumping with the support of his legs and hips. She plants her hands against the headboard to keep from sliding backward, bending her body as his arcing trusts begin to lift upwards. Over and over he pounds into her. But he wants to go harder, and this position wasn’t giving him enough leverage. Frustrated, Natsu stops for a moment to catch his breath then sits back on his haunches. He grips her waist, with her legs hanging over his forearms, and impales her again.

Lucy gasps at the deeper reach it provided as his legs, now acting as springs, allows for unrelenting thrusts, burying his cock into her core. She arches her back, using her arms to hold up the curvature of her spine. But that position wasn’t going to last very long so, she flails above her head for a pillow and shoves it under her lower back. One problem solved, Lucy is reduced to holding her breasts down from all the bouncing to solve another.

When Lucy looks up at her man, his eyes are closed in concentration and his face was contorted. Any other time, the weird expressions would make her laugh, but if her cries were any indication, she was probably faring no better than he. The room was turning into a sauna, no flames yet, but hot as hell. Things were definitely heating up, literally and all Lucy could do was hold on for the ride.

All of his grunts were starting to sound shakier along with some of his thrusts and after her own experience of it, Lucy realized he was probably close to his climax. “N-Natsu... you should slow down…. If you’re close to…”

“I know,” he pants. But her pussy was like a drug milking the slayer for everything he was worth. Natsu just couldn’t stop. “You feel… too fucking good…”

His legs were starting to shake, so his hands lend support, pulling her body towards him as his hips drive forward. Heat waves were visible now, even in the dim lighting provided by the bathroom. She had a feeling the flames wouldn’t hurt her, and damages to the room would be bad, but it’s not like she could stop him now. Fuck, she didn’t want him to stop. Natsu was showing her all the constellations every time she closed her eyes!

Natsu’s onslaught grows ever more erratic and his voice hits a new octave as a garbled version of her name spills out along with gibberish when he reaches his orgasm. Jagged thrusts of his hips follow as his seed spilled forth into Lucy’s womb, her own muscles palpitating against his shaft to make sure every drop is extracted. “Wholly fuck!” he breathes out and falls over onto Lucy when the last pulse left him sent. Natsu didn’t even have the energy to pull out.

She let him catch his breath before rolling his heavier body off her and before he became dead weight. Of course, he whined about it, having gone from the virile slayer who needed to mollify his instincts right back to the goofy slayer she’d fallen in love with. Natsu scooched right back over to straddle her side and rest his head amongst her boobs. Lucy chuckles and runs her fingers though his hair. They can talk about the whole mate thing in the morning but for now,

I guess he deserves a break after doing all that work….

#nalulovefest #nalulovefest2018 #day 4 #unbearable #nalu #NatsuxLucy #natsu x lucy #natsu and lucy #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #petri808 #nalu fiction #fan fiction

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love-killed-the-superstar · 6 years

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femslash february strikes again and i finally updated that one cornirma fic that ive been meaning to get back to for literally an entire year

Title: The Frying Pan Conversation Pairing: Cornelia/Irma Chapter: 2 - funny how we run around Summary: “You're awake...” “Great detective work, Sherlock, want a medal?” “It's too early in the morning for you to be sassing me,” grumbled Cornelia, half-heartedly throwing her phone onto the blankets and scooting closer to Irma. “Good thing you're way too cute for me to be sassing you with intent to kill,” Irma teased, pulling her in closer for a hug. She was overly warm from sleep and Cornelia happily melted into it. Irma's boobs made for an excellent pillow. (Cornelia and Irma spend Christmas with the Hales.)

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13743063/chapters/42144206

Cornelia loved watching Irma sleep. While she usually ran her mouth during the day, when she slept she had some sort of serenity around her, a tranquillity one wouldn't expect from someone who spent half the night tossing and turning, hogging the blankets and drooling all over her pillow. Yet, when morning came and Cornelia returned to wakefulness, Irma was at peace with herself in the land of dreams, hair framing her face like a halo. It took all restraint not to kiss her, but Cornelia had never been a fan of kissing before one had brushed their teeth.

Instead, she continued to watch. It was quiet and dim, the early morning sun casting strange light and shadows throughout the main room where they were set up. Without her family milling around, it felt peaceful. She wondered if this was how it would be all the time, if she and Irma moved in together some day. Sure, it wouldn't be some luxury cabin, but the world would be quiet like this. There would be no eyes on her. The whole room would be theirs to lie in silence and watch each other and feel cosy and secure. While Cornelia did want lavish things for herself someday, when she was older and things like throw pillows and vases mattered greatly in the grand scheme of things, it amazed her how easily she would sacrifice that just to be able to wake up next to Irma each morning and take on the day, regardless of whether they were in a plush king-sized bed or squashed together on a pull-out.

Geez. She really was picturing the rest of her life with Irma, like the hopeless romantic she was.

She rolled over to reach for her phone in the semi-dark. Too early to start messaging the group chat, but she hedged her bets with someone who did have a tendency to be up at this hour.

Will, you awake?

Not three minutes later, she received a reply.

ofc?? no rest for an athlete, corny. how did telling the parents go?

It didn't. Turns out I'm a bit of a coward.

nah it's tough. i only told my mom about being genderfluid a month ago, and i had no idea if she'd even CARE about it

Well, she cares about YOU. And from what you've told me, she's taken it well?

The speech bubble indicating a reply stayed for a while, and Cornelia repositioned herself so that she could watch Irma doze while waiting on Will to get back to her. After a few minutes, her phone finally pinged, and she hastily lowered the volume as Irma stirred slightly.

yeah, turns out dean being our teacher way back in the day finally paid off bc sheffield has diversity training or smth. he sat down w me and my mom and talked over all this stuff she was confused about. and she still doesn't totally get it, but she said she just wants me to be happy. guess that's all i really needed. stuff like if she comes to pride and w/e doesn't matter to me tbh, just knowing she's there for me is enough

Cornelia chewed her lip wistfully. If only it worked out that simply for everybody...

That's great. Really, I'm so happy it all worked out for you. I'm just worried about my parents, I guess. They're not bad people, but sometimes they can be so backwards with things. Really, I just want them to accept that this is a part of me so I can stop lying about a college guy just to keep them from overanalysing the way I am around Irma.

hey i get it! you're both just so darn cute together!

Indeed we are.

They shared some quick, casual conversation (Will, as usual, had some funny story to tell her about life as Taranee's roommate, and Cornelia caught them up on the bullshit that was her and Irma's road trip to the cabin) before Will had to leave to start their morning swim practice.

“Psst. Blondie.”

Cornelia dropped her phone in surprise, catching sight of rich green eyes watching her intently.

“You're awake...”

“Great detective work, Sherlock, want a medal?”

“It's too early in the morning for you to be sassing me,” grumbled Cornelia, half-heartedly throwing her phone onto the blankets and scooting closer to Irma.

“Good thing you're way too cute for me to be sassing you with intent to kill,” Irma teased, pulling her in closer for a hug. She was overly warm from sleep and Cornelia happily melted into it. Irma's boobs made for an excellent pillow.

“You're comfy,” she mumbled.

“Yup, cushy tits run in the family,” Irma remarked, relishing in the way Cornelia shuddered with an implosion of laughter. “You know this is the first time in months we've woken up together?”

“Feels like it too,” Cornelia sighed. “I've missed this. You should really come visit me more often, you know.”

“Oh yeah? I visited you twice last term. It's your turn to visit me just as soon as daddy dearest hands over your fucking prius.”

“Well, no offence, but your college campus is like a 30 minute drive away from Heatherfield,” pointed out Cornelia. “I'd sooner you visit me than risk bumping into Uriah of all people at a house party.”

Irma scoffed. “Thanks a lot! It may not be ivy-league or State U or anything, but there's still a ton of stuff to do! Besides, pretty sure Uriah's at Sheffield Community College, Anna works with his mom.” She paused. “Though, I did run into our dear old chum Nigel at a Halloween party this year.”

“Oh? And how did that go down?”

“How do you think? He followed me around half the night asking about Tara until I finally snapped and was like, 'you missed the boat, honey, our girl is gay as the day is long'. Haven't seen him since. Reckon he dropped out when he heard how swimmingly Taranee's life is going without him.”

“I doubt he flunked out because of a girl he was dumped by five years ago,” Cornelia deadpanned.

“Uh, hello? Our girl is a catch. He's lucky to have even walked the Earth in the same lifetime as her.”

“A bit dramatic, but I get the sentiment.”

Cornelia fell quiet, listening intently to Irma's heartbeat, her breathing.

“D'you think today's gonna be the day?” Irma asked softly.

Cornelia let out a noise, somewhere between laughter and a sigh.

“How do you always know what I'm thinking?”

“Because you have the antithesis of a poker face, darlin'. I've been reading you like a book since I was thirteen.”

She tangled her fingers up in Cornelia's hair, gently combing through, careful to avoid knots.

“I don't know if it'll be today,” sighed Cornelia. “Does it make me a hypocrite? I was so certain I wanted to do it this time.”

“Look. You need to stop putting this pressure on yourself to do everything exactly how you imagined,” Irma said firmly. “You don't have to tell them I'm your girlfriend. You don't even have to tell them you're pan if you aren't ready for it. We can call this off, you can spend the rest of Christmas break not having to worry about their reactions, and we can make out and cuddle and all that good stuff the second we set foot in my house. Would that make you feel better?”

“No?” Cornelia reached up to pull Irma into a proper hug. “I want them to know how happy you make me. I want them to know that I'm happy being myself. But the part where I actually tell them? Opening up like that, it... it's a very emotional process.”

“I know. I know it is. But I promise you, once it's out in the open... never mind their reaction, you will feel worlds better with it off your chest.”

“Ugh, why does my girlfriend have to be so wise?” Cornelia wondered aloud. Irma formed a fist and lightly knocked her on the head.

“If I'm going to be a teacher some day, I gotta be wise. I'm meant to be some sort of inspiring prophet, if your dad's stirring speech at dinner last night was anything to go by.”

“He's a passionate guy,” Cornelia shrugged.

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

A sudden creak from down the hall disrupted them, and they sprung apart, Cornelia sitting upright and reaching for her phone while Irma pretended to go back to sleep. A moment later, Harold's face poked around the door.

“Morning, darling!” he uttered in a stage-whisper, before stepping into the room clad in his robe and slippers. “Does Irma take coffee? I was thinking of brewing a pot to wake your mother up.”

“Only with six million sugars in,” Cornelia said, rolling her eyes fondly. “Don't worry, I'll take over. I know how to make it so she doesn't spit it out.”

Harold laughed, and moved over to start on breakfast as Cornelia set up the coffee maker.

“You two are as thick as thieves.”

Cornelia's hand froze.

“...Well, we're still good friends, but...”

“I drifted apart from my school friends when I went away to college, you know,” Harold mused. “I regret it now. The rift grew so big, and by the time I saw them again they were married, had families... and although we could still talk with ease about these kinds of things, the bond we shared at school – the books we liked to read, the movies we saw together, the pranks we would play on our teachers – all of that was gone. It was something we could look back upon and laugh at, but it's not the same.”

“I didn't know that.”

Harold offered her a kind smile, and reached over to crack some eggs into a bowl, dusting the mixture with pepper.

“Well, I think it's important to keep in touch with those you love. I was actually quite worried when I heard that you were going to your college alone. I know how close you are to the girls you met at Sheffield. I'm... glad that you were able to keep a close bond with them despite the distance.”

Oh, if only he knew how close.

Cornelia set out some cups on the side, hoping her face wasn't burning. If she really was as easy to read as Irma said...

“Well, they're my friends. They're important to me.” She glanced over at him. “Dad, I'm... I'm really happy with my life right now. With the person I am, and the person I'm with.”

Harold stopped whisking, and moved over to pull Cornelia into a tight hug.

“I'm so glad to hear that, darling. I really am.”

They worked in a pleasant silence after that, and when Irma next rolled over, Cornelia was nudging her, cup of overly sweetened coffee in her hand.

“Rise and shine.”

Harold was whistling away as Irma took her first sip, his back to them as he began tossing some bacon and eggs in the pan.

“Mmm. You made it just how I like it.”

“Well, you're picky. If my dad made it you'd choke it down and feel awful the rest of the day,” Cornelia teased. Irma stuck her tongue out.

“Jerk.” After another sip, she added coyly, “I heard the conversation between you two. It was sweet. Are you thinking today might be the day after all?”

“Maybe,” Cornelia said, a flame of confidence ignited in her heart. “He really wants me to be happy, so... maybe when I tell him, he'll understand.”

“Look, Harold Hale might not be leading a revolution, but he's always seemed like a chill guy to me,” Irma said quietly. “If you keep dropping hints, he might figure the rest out on his own.”

“Maybe.”

Cornelia glanced back at her father, still blissfully unaware of their conversation, and she leaned down to press a kiss to Irma's forehead.

“Now, drink up. We have a big day ahead of us.”

…

Breakfast was uneventful, with Lillian dominating the conversation with talk of some dream inspired by a zombie TV show she'd been binge-watching over Christmas break. Irma munched on French toast and bacon and watched in amusement as Harold became disgustingly sweet with Elizabeth, pressing kisses to her head whenever he went to refill drinks, even reaching down to pinch her behind when he was sure his daughters and his oldest's girlfriend weren't looking. Elizabeth swatted his hand away, pretending to be mortified at his brazen display in front of Irma, but the rouge on her cheeks and the affectionate eyeroll told another story. All the while, Cornelia quietly ate and drank, keeping a straight face while prodding Irma's foot playfully with her own under the table.

Oh, Irma could get used to mornings like these.

They took turns showering and dressing, and did the usual routine of wrestling for more mirror space as they brushed their teeth and put on make-up.

“So what's the plan for today?” Irma asked, rubbing some kind of moisturiser into her cheeks. Cornelia leaned in closer and inhaled with a happy sigh. Mango. Irma took the opportunity to turn and press a kiss to the tip of her nose, and Cornelia pulled away with a grin.

“Oh, well now we're all together, today will definitely be a decorating day. I mean, it's Christmas eve tomorrow, so it'd be a little sad if we didn't have the decorations ready by then,” she explained with a shrug, uncapping her mascara beginning to apply it to her upper lashes. “It really shouldn't take too long though. We'll have some time to get away, don't worry. And I think tonight my parents reserved dinner for us at a restaurant in town. I have to warn you, the waiter we had last time was super obnoxious...”

Irma stared at her reflection in the mirror, zoning out of Cornelia's anecdote about the wait staff at said restaurant, before glancing over at her girlfriend. In their teen years, she'd always envied how immaculate Cornelia's appearance was. She'd always seemed flawless somehow, even though Irma knew better and would never ever admit that much. Then, those feelings started to mix with something else, and attraction, jealousy and self-consciousness melted into an ugly soup of insecurity in her psyche. Even now, when she knew better than anyone that Cornelia was smitten with her, doubt crept in, especially in situations like these when they had to stand beside one another and pretend like they belonged in the same league.

“You're beautiful,” she sighed, interrupting Cornelia's spontaneous yelp review. Cornelia's hand jerked at the suddenness of Irma's statement and she hurriedly reached to blot away a clump of mascara stuck to the end of her eyelashes.

“Oh. Well, I do my best, and when it comes to make-up practice always makes perfect, you know.”

“I'm not talking about make-up, though yeah, you should consider dropping out of college and becoming a beauty guru on youtube instead.”

“Well, I think you're gorgeous too,” Cornelia replied with a smile, moving onto her lips. First a layer of balm to soften them, a waiting period of three minutes, and then the application of gloss or lipstick. It was her routine every time, and the waiting drove Irma mad in the mornings they'd spent together over the years. Cornelia's lip balm always smelled so damn good that fighting the temptation to kiss it clean off was a rare torture.

“Have you seen me?” muttered Irma, frowning at her reflection. “Eyebags for days. Messy brows. My lips are chapped to fuck and my skin has been kind of red lately...”

“Every time I see you I want to kiss you all over,” Cornelia said in the kind of factual tone that had Irma raising an eyebrow in disbelief. Still, she didn't protest as Cornelia wound her arms around her, and Irma caught a whiff of coconut lip balm. God damn it, she wanted Corny-kisses so bad. “You still get insecure, huh?”

“Hard not to when my girlfriend could pass for a fucking supermodel.”

“While I'm flattered that you hold me in such high regard, you're a far cry from the disaster you're making yourself out to be,” Cornelia laughed. “Besides, if you're really worrying about stuff, just talk to me, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Irma muttered. Cornelia rifled through her make-up bag for a few moments, before bringing out a small bottle.

“Come here, dope. Let me help you.”

“Why pay big bucks for a beautician when you can get one for free in the form of a generous girlfriend?” Irma deadpanned, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Cornelia grinned back and started to apply the liquid to her cheeks and brow with some kind of blender sponge thing shaped like an egg.

“The trick to combating redness and dark circles is to have a good, strong base that neutralises any discolouration in your skin. In your case, green tones kind of cancel out reds, and yellows are good against dark circles, so it just leaves your skin looking healthier, see?”

She switched over quickly to one with a yellower hue, and Irma hummed in agreement, staying put as Cornelia began tending to her eyebags.

“I think I get where you're coming from. Hay Lin calls me up all the time to gush about colour theory, the importance of colour wheels is stuck in my brain for life.”

“Oh, you and Hay Lin call each other all the time? More than me?” Cornelia teased. She put down the sponge and reached back over to her make-up bag, retrieved something that Irma could only describe as the world's tiniest broom, and began to tame Irma's unruly eyebrows. “Don't tell me the two of you are having a sordid affair behind my back.”

“Our torrid love affair is about as real as yours with mystery botanist man,” Irma responded. Without breaking eye contact with Cornelia, she reached over for her own chapstick and began to apply it. Cornelia's tongue poked out slightly in concentration as she smoothed down Irma's brows.

“It's bad enough my parents keep going on about him, don't you start.”

“Well, he is my alter-ego,” Irma pointed out. “Seems a little rude to silence my opinions on him.”

“I hate when you make a good point.”

Cornelia leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Irma's brow, breathing in the smell of her mango moisturiser one more time and sighing deeply. Irma, in a similar moment of pure, unfiltered lesbianism, caught the scent of Cornelia's lip balm and damn went out of her mind. She tilted Cornelia's head down and what transpired for the next few minutes were a combination of kisses, hugs, and several attempts to escape Irma's python-like grip.

“It's lipstick time,” Cornelia complained, a playful glint in her eye as she finally pried Irma's arms off of her waist. “My lips will dry out.”

“Honey, we're both balmed up, if anything, now we have a double coating. You'll be fine.”

“Still, the sooner my make-up is done, the sooner we can get decorating out of the way, and the sooner we can chill out watching crappy holiday movies.”

“The temptation to stay in this bathroom where no one's watching and we can keep kissing forever, though...”

“Aren't we saving 'kissing forever' for the week at your place?” Cornelia asked innocently, perfectly pencilled eyebrows raised.

“No, that's 'sex forever', silly,” Irma said cheerfully, clapping her on the back.

She glanced back at her reflection. While the foundation and tiny grooming hadn't done much besides tidying her reflection up some, her eyes twinkled with something she could only describe as 'the Cornelia effect', and she found her appearance didn't really bug her so much by this point. As they stood side by side, Irma came to the realisation that she and Cornelia really did fit together, but more like a pair of odd socks that compliment each other in all their contrasting glory.

Maybe someone else would call that love.

…

Christmas with the Hales was turning out to be pretty fun.

Irma and Lillian fought bitterly over control of the spotify playlist that morning, while Elizabeth and Cornelia decorated the tree and Harold cheerfully filmed the entire ordeal. Lillian was stubbornly obsessed with the classics, while Irma kept switching them out for lesser appreciated cover versions, partly because rooting for the underdogs was how she rolled, and partly because she got immense glee out of pissing Lillian off (and for that, Cornelia saluted her for her heroism). When Karmilla's edition of 'All I Want For Christmas' came on instead of Mariah Carey, Lillian threatened to throw Irma's phone out of the window, which had Elizabeth swooping in and putting an end to their temporary rivalry.

They called a truce when the parents set out to buy icing and other edible decorations for the Christmas cookies, leaving the girls to prep them for baking. Lillian greased the baking tray while Cornelia mixed eggs and flour and sugar and cinnamon together in a big red bowl. Irma, meanwhile, sat herself on the island and, in compromise with Lillian, put on a playlist of nineties nostalgia, singing along to Re-feel-it and pretending to drum with a pair of wooden spoons against the countertop.

“Funnyyyyy, how we run around,” she belted. “And see what we got, we don't even know what it is we found...”

“And honey, take a look around,” Cornelia chimed in, using the whisk as a microphone. She spun on her heels, her eyes meeting Irma's as she lifted the whisk up to her lips. “By the time we get there we won't even know where it is we're bound!”

The two of them burst out laughing, and Lillian rolled her eyes. “Dorks.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Cornelia sighed dramatically, smirking at Irma before turning back to the mixing bowl and continuing to whisk the mixture. “I forgot we were in your divine presence, Lillian. I hope you can forgive us for entering the realm of uncool nostalgia for two seconds.”

Irma snorted.

“You know, she always gets more sarcastic when you're around, Irma,” Lillian accused.

“Yeah, I rub off on her. I'm a baaaad influence.”

“Is that any way to talk to our renowned guest?” Cornelia chastised. “What would Dad say?”

“He'd probably tell you not to sing into the whisk. You know how many germs you could be putting into the cookies by breathing on the mixture? You've built up an immunity living among students, but have some consideration for those of us who haven't stepped foot in a sweaty student union hall.”

“You're actually mad,” Irma cackled. “What kind of diseases could Cornelia have besides a bad case of the cooties? Unless... Corny, please don't tell me your parents are anti-vaxxers, or I might have to end this friendship for good.”

“Hell no, they're fine. Since when did you become such a germophobe, Lillian?” Cornelia teased.

“I play zombie games,” Lillian responded sagely. “I know how infection spreads.”

“They really don't paint as accurate a picture as you've been led to believe.”

As the mixture began to thicken into a dough, Lillian joined Irma on sitting on the island counter.

“So what's college like?”

“Classes are boring, my roommate sucks, and I'm drowning in student loans. But the parties are fun, and the people are cool when they aren't being pretentious tools.”

Lillian hummed.

“I can't wait until I go to college. Community's one of my favourite shows.”

“Heh, well, Community is an exaggeration for the sake of comedy, but...”

“Cornelia, what's your college like?”

“You saw it when you and Mom and Dad helped me move in,” Cornelia pointed out, distracted as she began to knead the dough.

“Yeah, but it's not the same! Your dorm is nice, sure, but what about the classes? The parties? The boys?”

“Hmm, I don't know about that. Boys aren't my area of expertise.”

“Well that's gay.”

Irma raised her eyebrows.

“Using 'gay' as an insult? Very 2004 of you.”

Lillian rolled her eyes. “Sorry. So you don't have a boyfriend?”

“Nope,” Irma said shortly.

Cornelia began to knead a little harder.

“I bet you know stuff about Cornelia's boyfriend though,” Lillian said to Irma, arms folded. “Why doesn't she talk about him? Is he secretly ugly?”

Irma snorted.

“Ha. I know a thing or two, but he's actually... probably the most handsome person I've ever known. Aside from your sister!” She playfully punched Lillian on the arm, who looked unimpressed by the statement. Cornelia made a strangled sound.

“Lillian, pass me the cookie cutters, please,” she choked.

Lillian raised her eyebrows and hopped off the counter top, retrieving ones shaped like pine trees and angels and bells, handing them to Cornelia.

“Here they are, weirdo. Anyway, you can't blame me for being curious! We had to pry it out of you that you were seeing anyone at all, and you're always so twitchy when we bring him up. Irma, is he a junkie or a biker or something?”

“Nope, just a loser who lies around watching cartoons all day,” Irma responded with a lazy grin.

“So you have a thing in common.”

“Lillian!” Cornelia admonished, slamming a cookie cutter into the dough with enough force to make the other shapes jump. “Also, Irma, I don't appreciate you calling my partner a loser.”

Lillian pulled a face.

“Partner? What are you, old timers?”

“Cowboys,” Irma chimed in.

“Oh, stop teasing me,” Cornelia huffed. “I'm just trying to be more inclusive. The world could do with more of that, you know.”

Lillian shrugged. “Whatever. So you're liberal now?”

“I reckon I've always been, yes.”

“And you, Irma?”

“Socialist, through and through.”

“Of course you are.”

“Just wait until college, Lillian,” Irma chided with a smile, as Cornelia began setting out the Christmas cookies on the tray. “There's a whole wide world out there.”

…

The Italian restaurant Harold took them to that night was fucking fancy, to say the least. The kind of fancy where there were lemon-scented wipes in little packets on every table and complimentary garlic dough balls and everyone was in suits and dresses. The Hales looked like they fit right in, and Irma was some vagrant they'd picked up off of the streets and were treating to dinner in a commendable act of charity.

“I don't even know what half the stuff on this menu is,” Irma hissed to Cornelia as they took their seats.

“It's good food,” Cornelia promised. “They just use posh names to scare people into thinking its worth the money they're paying. Come on, you watch enough Hell's Kitchen to know what filet mignon is.”

Irma ended up ordering something that she was pretty sure was some kind of beef thing, and Cornelia ordered the one pasta dish on the menu that used aubergines instead of pancetta. The wine was decent at least, and Irma found it easier to sneak glances at Cornelia's cleavage in the scoop neck dress she was wearing with the large flower centrepiece obscuring them from her parents. Lillian, while looking the part in a simple white turtle neck dress, was very obviously playing on her phone under the table.

The sweet onion soup starters arrived swiftly, and Irma was dragged back into a light grilling about her teaching degree from Harold, while Elizabeth began to catch Cornelia up with the latest family drama.

“Why, I just think it's so inspiring that you're choosing to act as a beacon for young people, and pave their futures-”

“-And your uncle, of course, is still coming around asking for money, as if your grandparents don't have enough to worry about-”

“-And you know, teaching qualifications open up the whole world to you! You could teach in international schools, or you could teach English in schools where it's a secondary language-”

“-It's not like their health is getting any better, you know! I keep telling him it's time to stand on his own two feet, he's certainly old enough-”

The moment that their waiter came to take the dishes away, Irma hurriedly excused herself.

In the bathroom (one of those spotless white ones with tiny shell-shaped soaps and embossed toilet paper because of course, rich people) Irma took a few moments to collect herself, staring at her reflection in dismay. She'd done her best to look presentable, but she still stuck out like a sore thumb in this kind of environment. Her dress was a little tight since the last time she'd worn it was for graduation, and her choker was crooked. Her bun was already starting to look lopsided, the redness of her cheeks was starting to show through the base Cornelia had applied that morning...

“Why am I not as perfect as the folks out there?” she muttered to herself, eyes narrowing as she glared at her reflection. She reached for one of the shell-shaped hand soaps and began to pick it with the edge of her fingernail. Absently, the faucet turned and water began to gush out, thrumming to the beat of her frustration.

After a few minutes of self-loathing and contemplation, she heard the sound of the door open behind her, and saw a flash of Irish green fabric, before Cornelia came up behind her, a vision of concern. She startled as the small army of water gushing from the faucet turned on her, almost letting out a hiss of steam, before Irma quickly called it off, allowing it to taper down the drain and out of sight.

“Irma, are you okay? My parents thought I should check on you in case the wine didn't agree with you, but...”

“Yeah, it isn't the wine,” Irma sighed. “It's this whole place. I can't fucking believe your dad called this place rustic on the way here.”

“He doesn't know the meaning of the word,” Cornelia agreed with a giggle. She wrapped her arms around Irma, leaning down to rest her chin on her shoulder. “You look amazing tonight.”

“Really?” Irma sighed. “I don't feel it. Or is this a classic 'lying to your girlfriend's face so she doesn't start crying in a stupidly fancy bathroom' tactic?”

“Well, it wouldn't be a great start to the meal.” Cornelia pressed a kiss to her jaw. “But I'm serious. You look great.”

“I'm practically bursting out of this dress. My tits are fighting for freedom. And my hair is coming undone and my stupid face is getting stupid red!”

“Of course it is, you've been drinking,” Cornelia said, rolling her eyes fondly. “And your face is the furthest thing from stupid, so don't even start.”

“I'm past the point of starting, Corny, I'm waist-fucking-deep in it. Look at this damn soap.” She gestured aggressively towards a shrivelled pebble in the basin. “That was shaped like a fucking seashell when I came in here and I picked and picked at it and now it looks like, I don't know, a really tiny golf ball?”

“Wow. Okay, let's take a step back from the soap.” Cornelia spun her around and rested her hands on her shoulders. “Irma, you look wonderful tonight. Seriously, you do, and I hate that going to this stupid dinner has made you so worked up.”

“It's not just the dinner.” Irma frowned up at her so-tall-it-was-unfair girlfriend. “Look at us. I mean, really look. We're like chalk and cheese, except, you're too pretty to be chalk. We're like – I don't know! An oil painting and cheese! I don't belong here eating food so fancy I can't pronounce it with wine I'm too weak to drink and in a dress that's too tiny for my damn good. You might fit into this magazine-spread life where everything is minimalist and perfect and velvet but I just don't. I saw it in the mirror this morning and I saw it in the mirror again just now. Are you honestly okay with that?”

“Why are you asking me this?” Cornelia asked, the smile gone from her face. “I love you. I love having you in my life. Sure, I like the nice material stuff sometimes, but if you think for one second that I'd put that stuff before you – before us – then the wine has definitely gone to your head.”

Irma huffed. After a beat, she muttered, “Rich people wine is ridiculous.”

“Agreed. Now, listen to me. We're too deep into this relationship to be hitting insecurities over stuff like this, got it? You know I come from money. You wanted to come on this trip with me. Unfortunately, that means seeing the way my family lives up close and personal. I just want you to remember that doesn't define me, or how I feel about you. I want you here. Okay?”

“I hate when you're being reasonable,” Irma groaned. She hugged Cornelia tight.

“Oof. Heh, don't tell me you're drunk already, we have the rest of a dinner to get through.”

“Are you gonna tell your parents tonight?” Irma mumbled into Cornelia's waist.

Cornelia hummed uncertainly. “Maybe. I don't know.”

“Well, remember I still love you. If you don't wanna come out here in this stupid fancy restaurant, no pressure. We'll make it happen some other time.”

“Hey, no need to comfort me, you're the one feeling insecure,” Cornelia teased. Irma lifted her head up to protest, and was met with Cornelia's lips pressing against her forehead.

“Ugh, you're too cute,” whined Irma. “If I weren't wearing heels I would go on my tiptoes and kiss you. And if you weren't wearing heels, we might actually be fucking level for once.”

“Thanks for clarifying that,” Cornelia quipped. “Not to worry, I can accommodate you.”

She leaned down and cupped Irma's cheeks, pulling her into a kiss.

The sound of the bathroom door abruptly shutting ended the sickeningly sweet moment, and they jolted apart. Lillian stood there, wide-eyed.

“Uhhh. Mom told me to come get you two, the main courses are out...” She blinked a few times. “Are you guys... lesbians?”

“Lillian,” Cornelia started, voice strained.

“I'm a lesbian,” Irma said with a shrug and an awkward chuckle.

“So you called me ignorant earlier even though you really are gay?”

“Ignorance is ignorance, sis.”

“Lillian, please don't tell Mom and Dad about this,” Cornelia pleaded. “I'm going to tell them myself, I just haven't had time to yet.”

Lillian folded her arms and huffed.

“I can't believe your mystery guy is just Irma.”

“Oh, ouch?”

Cornelia let go of Irma and approached Lillian.

“I'm serious. Can you please promise me you won't say anything?”

Lillian shrugged.

“I guess. I mean, I don't care about it. Not like they'd believe me anyway.” Seeing Cornelia's pinched expression, she sighed loudly. “All right, no. No, I won't say anything. So you can stop looking at me like that! Now come on, or Mom will be next to find us in here.”

As she pushed open the door to leave, she turned back.

“Also, Irma, you've got lipstick on your face. Hard to play dumb when the evidence is right there on your forehead.”

“When did she become such a smartass?” Irma muttered as Cornelia fished around in her clutch, bringing out a make-up wipe. “Look, don't panic. Lillian might be a pain, but she respects your business. Probably. I mean, I don't know her that well, but it's none of her business right? She knows that.”

“How did she seem to you?” Cornelia asked, chewing her lip. “Uncomfortable? Freaked out? D-Disgusted?”

“None. It was the same kind of grossed out she got when she caught you making out with Peter for the first time, I reckon. It was sibling disgust, not, y'know, her being a phobe.”

“Are you sure?” Cornelia fretted.

“Super sure. Now come on, you heard what she said. Lets go back before your mom drags us back by the ears.”

Irma reached over to squeeze her hand and didn't let go until they were out of the bathroom and in sight of the Hales. Elizabeth turned and shot them a disapproving look, motioning them back over, and Harold's face lit up with a delighted smile.

“I was starting to think the two of you had fallen in!” he joked, as they took their seats. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, everything's fine,” Cornelia promised, a lie rolling effortlessly from her tongue as Irma stared down at the steak au poivre in front of her. “Irma just smudged her mascara and needed me to come to her rescue.”

“Ah, I see. Surely it shouldn't take that long though?” Elizabeth turned to Lillian. “Were they taking selfies?”

“Oh, they were having a gay old time in there,” Lillian deadpanned.

Cornelia froze. Irma dared to look up from her food to stare daggers at Lillan.

A moment passed, and Harold shrugged.

“Well, I'll never understand it, myself. But the youth of today are always finding beauty in everything! They can make moments last a lifetime! And I'm envious that an entire generation has learned to take pictures from an angle that certainly appear more flattering in post-production...”

As his speech continued, the tension melted away. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at the two of them, as if to silently chastise them for sending Harold on a spiel about technological advancements, before tucking into her food.

Cornelia swiftly kicked Lillian under the table, but all she got back in response was an impish grin.

…

“Urgh, I'm full to burst.”

A now pyjama-clad Irma flopped face down on the pull-out bed, before rolling onto her side and burping softly into the back of her hand.

“I told warned you against dessert, if you recall,” Cornelia said with a grin, pulling her nightgown over her head.

“Yeah, but they had cheesecake. You know I'm weak for cheesecake, Corny.”

“That I do.” Cornelia lay down beside her. “I was a bundle of nerves the whole night.”

“Aw, come here.” Irma pulled Cornelia close, combing her fingers through her hair. “Lillian was just being a brat, that's all. She's got dirt on you, of course she's gonna poke a little fun. But she wasn't about to out you or anything.”

“I know,” Cornelia groaned. “I know. But she's on thin ice, I'm telling you now!”

“Well, the sooner you get it off your chest, the sooner she'll lose that power over you,” Irma pointed out. She yawned. “I'm pooped. Can you turn the light off? And then come spoon me?”

“Sure, your highness,” teased Cornelia, prying Irma's hands off her waist. As she wandered over to the light switch near the hallway, she caught sight of Lillian leaving the bathroom. The two stood there in silence for a few moments, before Cornelia uttered, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Lillian shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly. “Hey, Cornelia?”

“Yeah?”

“Um. I know I didn't say it at the restaurant, but... I don't like, mind or anything. About you and Irma.”

Relief washed over her.

“You don't?”

“No! And you should stop caring that somebody does, you know? Mom and Dad are whatever. I don't know if they'd care about it. But, it shouldn't matter if we mind or not, that's my point. It's about you and Irma, not about the rest of us. Although, since you're a lesbian now, I wish you had better taste in girls. I've seen her eat peanut butter out of the jar with her fingers,” Lillian pointed out, pulling a face.

Cornelia, stunned by the overload of information, leaned back against the wall.

“With her fingers?”

“Yup. It was our house peanut butter, too!”

Cornelia buried her head in her hands. “Oh my god. If I didn't love her so damn much that would for sure be a deal breaker. Also, I'm not a lesbian.”

“You're not?”

“No. I loved Peter, remember?”

Lillian pouted. “Yeah. I miss him.”

“I know you do, you remind me all the time.” Cornelia squared her shoulders. “Lillian, I'm pansexual.”

Lillian raised an eyebrow. “Pansexual?”

“Yes. Pansexual. I... fancy people regardless of whether they're a guy, a girl, or nonbinary.”

“Nonbinary?”

“The internet is a great place to learn about this stuff, since you're on the track to being an ally now.”

Lillian giggled.

“Yeah, I guess. Well, okay. So you're not gay, you're... what's the short of it? Pan?”

Cornelia nodded wordlessly.

“Okay. Cool. You're pan. And Irma's your girlfriend. And she's a lesbian?”

“Yes. You caught on fast.”

With a shrug, Lillian said simply, “It wasn't that hard to grasp. You're pan, Irma's gay, you're dating. That's that.”

Cornelia's mouth opened and closed a few times. At last, she uttered, “You made that seem really easy.”

“I'm a smart and socially aware kid,” Lillian said proudly, hands on her hips. Her smug expression softened. “And I'm happy you're happy. I was kinda thinking, cause you never mentioned your 'mystery uni boyfriend', that maybe you didn't really like him. I'm glad it's just a mix up.”

Cornelia's heart swelled, and she stepped towards Lillian, hugging her tight.

“You're a good sister.”

“And you're a clingy sister, god!”

They bid goodnight and Cornelia climbed into bed beside Irma, who had her back to her and was softly groaning. She yelped as Cornelia wriggled under the covers.

“Holy crap, Corny, your feet are colder than Mount fucking Thanos!”

“So warm me up.”

“Sorry, you got the wrong guardian for that party trick.”

Cornelia rolled her eyes fondly and reached around to spoon her.

“Geez, you ate too much. Your stomach feels like a rock.”

“Don't bully me, that was rich people food! How many times am I gonna get to eat like that again, huh?”

“If you'd just let me take you fancy places-” Cornelia pointed out.

“You know I hate fancy places!” whined Irma, punctuated by another burp. “Ugh. Just cuddle me to sleep, jerk.”

“Who are you calling a jerk, jerk?”

Cornelia obliged nonetheless, letting her body wrap around Irma's with a familiarity that had adapted over the years; from guardian sleepovers to family vacations to just the two of them drunkenly sprawled out in Cornelia's dorm. And now here they were, fitting together like jigsaw pieces, water and earth.

“Sweet dreams,” Cornelia whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of Irma's neck.

“Keep your lips to yourself, Corny,” mumbled Irma sleepily, snuggling closer all the same.

#w.i.t.c.h.#w.i.t.c.h #cornirma #irmelia #femslash february #cornelia x irma #irma x cornelia #cornelia hale #irma lair #irma/cornelia #cornelia/irma #writing

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