#brady is doing his best ok

[sicc-nasti]

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--------- Lovely second piece I commissioned Iyel on Twitter for. Pleassse check out their art. They're truly stunning. RED VERSION

[precious-little-scoundrel]

What do you have in store for Ida and Rosie’s story? Because they are the only pairing who aren’t at the POW camp.

Aha!! This is gonna be a long answer, hence why I let your ask molder away as I worked on a reply, thanks for your patience.

I can’t wait to weave this whole thing, and it’s honestly the only postwar story I’m at all sure about in this universe so far. Let’s just say it’s a hella slow burn. Even after getting married. Because they do marry. Rather soon. But they are a bit of a buddy cop duo. Romantic love -at least for Ida- comes later.

I think it’s safe to assume that dear Ida was present when Rosie first introduced himself to the Bucks, told his underwear story and generally made a magnificent entry. Now, one must consider two things with this:

1. Rosie’s regret over what the hell he was thinking telling that story would be compounded by telling it in front of a female officer

2. Ida might have always been a stiff spined stickler before her trauma and the Stalag, but she did have a sense of humor. I like to think she found him funny, plus, with the Bucks beginning to fray a little in their own morale, flagging in offering encouragement to the newbies, I think Ida would be the sort to fill that role, best she can. Surprisingly, Rosenthal, Nash, Pappy, they’re not the sorta men to resent a woman giving them a pep m-up chat.

Now, keep in mind it’s three missions later and she’s been downed so there was not really a connection made there. Although I love to think that some night in the Stalag when everyone is bored and playing ask games with each other, one of the questions is:

“Who was the last person ya danced with?”

And Bucky gets to tell about Paulina and Gale gets chafed about choosing Meatball over Maureen and Brady bemoans having been so stuck on the bandstand playing sax instead of taking his chances and then when it’s Ida’s turn she’s just: “it was one of the new ones, the ‘egg frying on the instrument panel,’ guy.”

This is met with a chorus of “Rosenthal???”

“Told me to call him Rosie.” Ida shrugs. “He had some fun moves.”

Anyways. That’s a far off thing by April of ‘45.

SPOILERS ABOUT ESCAPE:

….

when Ida get away with Gale and makes it back first of anyone to England? Best believe she is beyond distracted with worry for her girls. Who’s there to meet her and welcome her and Cleven to Thorpe? Crosby of course -and Rosie. Malnourished, ptsd riddled and burdened with responsibility for her girls, Ida isn’t exactly the sparkly female Colonel that Rosenthal remembers meeting and dancing with.

In fact, that first initial interaction goes a bit sourly. She needs a nap, he awkwardly needs a deposition on her treatment. It’s a little rough, ok?

But the longer she is back at Thorpe, reunited with her few girls still there who were never downed, she learns how well their new Lt. Colonel -Rosenthal- has looked after them, fought to resend the grounding orders after Ida went down, generally been a good bean.

Also, due to being her superior now and having been given the legal burden of collecting information and evidence on the girls treatment by the Germans, Rosenthal and Ida start spending time, a lotta time, together.

There’s Jeep chauffeuring, Coffee Breaks and Mercy Runs where he goads her into buzzing the tower for the first time in her life -“of course I haven’t done it before, Rosenthal. One of you cats do it and it’s cute, I do it and I’m fired. No, I don’t mean discharged, I mean plainly fired.”

And then there’s the depositions, eventually full of her having to dictate shit that she’s never vocalized since it happened to her. Somehow, Rosie makes the whole thing easier than she ever expected. Not to say it’s easy. Although if you asked his female secretary, she’d say the one more visibly affected by it was the male lawyer, not the half catatonic victim spewing a rote litany of horror.

One time, his grip on his pencil gets so tight that it snaps. Ida replaces it. His quiet rage for her is about the best closure she’s felt so far. And that thread of such shared knowledge between them and them alone, even if it was in professional context? -That’s Intimacy. Far more than kisses or rings.

A righteous vengeance duo? Yes please, they’re a force to be reckoned with as the war winds down.

Before long Ida is asking Croz, “Was Rosenthal always that pretty?”

Harry is cackling over it, “Yeah.” He goads her, “But he is more confident now.”

“Confidence.” Ida repeats, trying to convince herself, “Yeah, that would be it.”

The thing of it is, Ida was unsure or marriage before her brutal treatment in captivity. Now? And after her military experience? She’s very sure she could never be a wife. Not even of a smart and secure man like Robert Rosenthal. Men just expect certain things and dynamics from their wives and Ida has never been sure she had that in her. Now she’s positive. And she’s too proud to marry only to then “turn a blind eye” as he finds what she lacks in women elsewhere.

Rosie? His argument is that what they’ve already built these last months, it’s what he wants. Marrying her is to keep that. If that’s all they ever have that’s enough, he couldn’t stand to lose it.

A chaste honeymoon on the way to Nuremberg to go fuck up a bunch of Nazis for the second time in their young lives? You betcha.

[pinksiames]

John Egan didn’t have a staring problem.

Yeah he had been caught ogling the girls back in England a little too long, and had given enough sharp glares that got him into trouble enough times to hopefully learn a lesson he’ll never remember. But he wouldn’t say it was a problem. It wasn’t weird to him that he had his best friend's face memorized, from the long, blonde lashes that complimented his baby blues to the moles and freckles that speckled across his tan cheeks. It wasn’t strange that he knew the full expanse of his body, strong shoulders that melted into soft pecs and grabble waist, how he arched his back a certain way in the shower, warm water drops rippling down curves of muscle. It’s not even out of the blue how he knew how Bucks slender but lean legs shaped themselves, crossing at the knee so elegant and dainty that some people could get the wrong impression just with a simple glance.

That’s about how Gale looked right now. John went and picked him up in their little Jeep, legs crossed so neatly at the knee, hands resting on top of his thighs, driving them and a few of the other men into town and to the local Pub they had quickly become regulars at. And like usual Gale was in his passenger seat, having Bucky drive him around like his chauffeur.

It’s not like he didn’t mind, he actually preferred it. It was, in his minds eye, an act of love. A small way to show the younger man that he cared about him. But it didn’t stop him from teasing him.

“I’m thinking about getting a sticker to put on your seat that says ‘this seat is reserved for Gale “passenger princess” Buck Cleven.” He smirked, earning him a light shove of his shoulder and pink flaring across Gales cheeks.

Tonight was no different than the others. John, Curt and Brady were busy getting drunk, but knowing them it was going to be a while before they reached the level of drunkness they wanted. Gale was sat at the bar, ginger beer in hand as he watched his boys make fools of themselves with the women around them. Bucky kept a trained eye out for his best friend despite the current copper headed woman that was velcroed to his side, who’s name he had already forgotten. If at a glance the blonde almost looked sad, distant. Like he was lost in thought. Bucky just simply couldn’t have his buck dwelling on such grim things. He said a few words that got him separated from the woman, sauntering over back to the bar.

“What’s got that pretty little head of yours all riled up about hm?” He asked, leaning on his side against the worn oak.

Gale just shook his head, resting his chin in his palm as his gaze shifted downward. “It’s nothing important. Just thinking.” He replied.

“Well it’s gotta be somewhat important if it’s got you lookin like a kicked puppy Buck.” He sighed, a large hand gently resting on a plush cheek. Gales eyes quickly darted up to John’s, that same familiar shade of pink flushing itself across tan skin. “I know your not a drinker but maybe just one to loosen you up ok? You look absolutely miserable.” He joked half heartedly. Giving his cheeks a pinch before pulling his hand back, his palm suddenly feeling empty.

He could see the thoughts tumbling around in gales head, trying to decide whether or not to take John up on his offer. He swore off drinking or anything like it. He didn’t want to turn into the man his daddy was, beatin on Gale when he lost his bets. But he wasn’t like his daddy. He was a good man. With a good woman waiting for him at home. Even if it was a lavender relationship. What was the harm in one drink?

“Fine, but only one. I don’t think my body could take more than one. I don’t think it could even take half a drink.” Gale said, leaning his elbows and chest against the bar. God Bucky needed to get his staring in check before someone pointed it out. He ordered for Gale, a dark brew English beer that wasn’t as good as the ones in the states but it was better than nothing. Sliding it over he watched buck do a sniff test, his nose scrunching adorably in disgust.

“God it smells like piss, and you enjoy drinking it?” He asked, holding the glass up to John’s eye level.

“It’s not the taste or smell that makes it good, it’s how it makes you feel. That’s what’s so great about it. You drink enough to forget it also tastes like piss because your floating in the clouds. No go on, take a drink. If you gotta plug your nose do it.” Bucky encouraged, his eyes locked on Gales plump lips as they touched the rim. How his throat looked swallowing the drink down. He took some pretty decent gulps before setting it down finally, sucking in heavy breaths trying to catch it back.

“God that tasted like shit. I can’t believe this is what yall get excited for everytime we come into town.” He groaned. And then it hit him. That nice fuzzy feeling in his brain, the sudden heaviness of his limbs. Knew he was a lightweight but by god he didn’t know it was this bad.

Um here’s my very shitty wip of a fic I’m trying to get through with writers block

[ao719]

Vancross

Vancross - I Keep Falling For You (Chapter 11)

Most of the characters belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: A group of friends embark on their final year at Vancross Institute with the hopes of making it their best year yet. When a new face with a complicated family plagued by secrets and rumors arrives on campus, new friendships are formed, a new relationship blossoms, and threatening challenges arise.

Title inspiration: Fallin’ - Dylan Brady

Main Pairing: Liam x F!OC

A/N: I tried to post this yesterday, but tumblr wanted to be uncooperative, so I apologize if you got a tag for it. Multiple crossover series. There will be random sprinkles of canon throughout this story, but for the most part, it’s pretty much out the window. Thank you to @burnsoslow for prereading! Please excuse any errors.

Rating: M • Warnings: This series will contain nsfw material, language, some alcohol and drug use, and is not suitable for minors. If you read, you acknowledge you are 18+

Catch up here

After their impromptu Saturday morning team meeting, Blaine and Liam walked away from the polo field, headed back toward their building. 

“That’s an hour and a half of my life that I’m never going to get back,” Blaine grumbled.

Liam shook his head. “Coach was in a damn mood.”

“Yeah, and so were all of us since he pulled us out of bed on a damn Saturday for that shit,” Blaine scoffed. 

Liam sighed, thinking back to earlier that morning when he woke up next to Croía for the first time. Then he thought of the direction things seemed to be headed before they had been interrupted. Moments between the pair had been heating up for a while now, but even more so in the weeks since they had made things official between them. 

Since knowing her, Croía had always come off as reserved, so Liam was trying to follow her lead in that particular area, not wanting to come off as too forward. At the same time, he was only human; he couldn’t help but think about it. He wanted to explore that with her. 

Blaine glanced over when he heard the sigh, and chuckled. “Sorry again about, er … this morning.” 

Liam shook his head with a wry laugh. “It’s fine.” He had told Blaine, in as little detail as possible, why their impromptu meeting had him feeling irritated for more reasons than one.

“So, have you two, uh … ya know …?” 

“‘Ya know?’” Liam laughed. “What are we, 12?”

“Ok, first of all, what the hell were you doing at 12? Because I sure as shit wasn’t doing that,” Blaine quipped. “Second, you know what I meant, so stop deflecting.” Liam laughed, but when he looked at him and shook his head in response to the initial question, Blaine’s eyes slightly widened as he looked away, puffing his lips before letting out a breath. “Damn, man, that’s rough,” he chuckled. 

“I mean … things will seem to be potentially leading there, but something always manages to interrupt.”

“Ah, the good ol’ cockblock,” Blaine snorted.

“Yeah,” Liam chuckled.

“Well … I was planning on staying at Alia’s tonight,” Blaine said. “So you and Croía can have our suite all to yourselves should you want.” 

Liam glanced over at him with a subtle grin. “Oh?”

“Having our girlfriends be suitemates definitely has its fair share of perks. This is one of them,” Blaine winked. “And speaking of … Alia messaged me shortly after we left and said she and Croía were headed to the gym.” He gestured up ahead of them to the building in the distance. “We can stop by and see if they’re still there.” 

Liam’s brows furrowed. “Croía doesn’t go to the gym …” 

“I guess Alia persuaded her this morning,” Blaine shrugged. “Maybe she’s trying to get out some, er … frustrations of her own,” he chuckled. 

Liam smiled. “Perhaps …” 

****

Aria and Croía walked out of the room inside the campus gym where they had been for the last hour in a pilates class before they planned to spend the afternoon studying. “This is where I usually linger when I’m here,” Alia said, gesturing to the small weight area. She was secretly hoping she could get Croía to tag along to the gym with her more often; she found that going with a friend was more fun and motivational than going alone. 

“Do you have a routine?” Croía asked.

“Not really,” Alia chuckled, excited about her sudden interest. “Usually I do legs one day, arms another.” 

“I have no upper arm strength,” Croía snorted. “Like … none.” 

“See! This would be perfect for you! I don’t have much myself, though, if I’m being honest,” Alia giggled. 

“I’m sure you’ve got more than me,” Croía said.

“Here …” Alia dropped her bag as she walked up to the pull-up bar; she jumped and grabbed onto it. “Let’s see how many we can do.”

Croía watched as Alia started pulling herself up. She wasn’t normally the gym type, but when Alia invited her to tag along, she agreed, if only to give her something to try and clear her head. 

When the guys left for their meeting, Croía and Alia headed back to their suite to change, and her mind had remained jumbled; she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her morning with Liam. “Maybe we can pick this back up later?” The way they had gotten lost in the moment, paired with the tone in which he said it and the look in his eyes, she knew what he meant. And it wasn’t that she didn’t want to take things further with him. She did. This was all very new to her, however. And she was nervous, but she wasn’t sure if it was more for the unknown, having to explain it, or both. 

Croía knew she more than likely wasn’t what Liam was used to, whether it be a relationship or something else. She didn’t want him to see her differently, and had no idea what to expect … out of any of it. 

“Lookin’ good, babe,” Blaine called out from behind them. 

Distracted by his voice, Alia dangled from the bar as he approached her. “Help,” she laughed. 

Liam watched Croía turn, smiling when they met gazes. The thoughts he was already having about her and them started to spiral when he caught sight of her in her fitted leggings and matching cropped tank top. “Hey, you,” he grinned when he approached. 

“Hi,” Croía smiled. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips as his hand curled around her waist. “How was your meeting?” she asked when he drew back.

“Dumb. And boring. And pointless,” Blaine answered for him.

“What he said,” Liam laughed. “What are you two up to?”

“We did a pilates class, then decided to stall studying by seeing how many chin-ups we could do,” Croía chuckled. 

“How many did you do?” Liam asked.

“I haven’t gone yet. But I’m sure Alia beat me. I have no upper arm strength,” Croía smiled sheepishly. 

“Well, she’s cheating,” Liam teased as he gestured to Blaine, who had his hands on Alia’s hips, helping to lift her as she pulled herself up.

Alia began to laugh as she let go of the bar, letting Blaine plant her feet back on the ground. “I did like … 10 by myself before Blaine showed up.” 

“Ok,” Liam looked at Croía. “You do 10, and then I’ll help you,” he smiled. 

Croía nodded before walking up to the bar; she jumped and grabbed a hold of it. “I can already tell … this isn’t going to go well,” she laughed.

“Go on!” Alia urged. She started counting as Croía pulled herself up, and Liam watched, standing with his hands on his hips. She began to struggle after five, laughing as she went. “Eight … nine …”

“And 10,” Liam finished as he started walking towards her.

“I don’t know if this is really fair,” Blaine joked. “You’ve got a slight height advantage on me, so it’s easier for you to lift her.”

Liam looked over his shoulder, shaking his head before his lips curled into a subtle smirk. “Ok, fine.” 

Stepping up to the bar, Liam jumped, grabbing hold of it on either side of where Croía’s hands were, dangling behind her. He wrapped his legs around her, locking his ankles at her shins as he bent his knees, taking the weight of her own body off her before he effortlessly pulled them both up.

Despite the surprised laugh his gesture drew from her, it caused Croía’s mind to spin and fill with more thoughts. She could feel the taut muscles in Liam’s chest and stomach flex against her back and his warm breath on her neck as he exhaled with each pull-up. She was barely gripping the bar now, far too distracted.

“This fucking guy,” Blaine laughed as he shook his head. “Damn show off.”

The rumble from Liam’s chest against her back as he laughed pulled Croía from her thoughts; his one arm dropped and gently wrapped around her waist, and she took the cue, letting go of the bar before he lowered them both back to the ground. He kept his arm around her as they turned to face Blaine and Alia. 

Liam chuckled. “How was that?” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Blaine scoffed with a good-natured grin. 

“Alright you two,” Alia interjected. “I hate to cut your little visit short, but Croía and I have a library date to catch up on some studying.” 

“Boring,” Blaine playfully rolled his eyes. 

Alia grabbed her bag from the floor. “What time are you coming tonight?” she asked as she and Blaine walked toward the exit.

Liam and Croía trailed behind them. “Hey, so … Blaine is staying at your place tonight with Alia. Did you want to stay with me?” She looked up at him. “We can get take-out … watch a movie …?”

Croía smiled, feeling her stomach flip. “Sure.”  

****

That afternoon, Alia and Croía sat in a quiet corner inside the library, both with a book and their laptops opened in front of them; they each had two big papers they needed to work on, one due this coming week, and the other the following week. 

Croía was finding it hard to concentrate, however. 

Liam inviting her to come to his place for take-out and a movie wasn’t something new, but with what had started that morning and his offered rain check for later, Croía was feeling a little on edge. 

Alia happened to glance up to see Croía staring off in a daze, completely unfocused. “Are you ok?” she asked.

Pulling her from her thoughts, Croía looked at her. “Oh, uh … yeah. I’m good,” she smiled awkwardly. 

“Thinking about Liam?” Alia teased. Croía’s cheeks blushed as she dropped her gaze back down to the book in front of her; she didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. “You are,” she giggled. She leaned back in her chair with a soft smile. “Things between you two seem to be going really well.” 

Croía let out a whisper of a laugh as she looked back at her. “Yeah … they are.” 

“So, you’re staying with him tonight?” Alia asked. 

“Uh, yeah,” Croía nodded. “He said Blaine was staying at our place with you, so he invited me to stay there with him.” 

Alia grinned as she sat forward. “Sounds like a sleepless night is ahead for both of us,” she chuckled before glancing back down at her book.

Croía let out a quiet breath at her words. Liam hadn’t once made her feel as though he expected anything from her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if that particular night with having his entire suite to themselves would change that. Alia certainly had her assumptions as to where the night was headed, so it was possible Liam thought the same. 

Given her isolated upbringing in Drakovia, this wasn’t something Croía had to worry or think about before. And it was something she’d never discussed with anyone, not even Marguerite. Alia was right there, and Croía was sure she’d be more than willing to listen if she wanted to talk about what was on her mind, but she didn’t because if she were being honest, she found herself a little embarrassed. She had already been well aware, but coming to Vancross only made her realize how truly sheltered her life had been. She knew that none of the friends she made could relate, and it wasn’t that she was worried they would mock her, but she wasn’t exactly sure she wanted to hear their opinions on it either … Liam included. 

Croía supposed that it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing if Liam had assumptions about that night, and considering it was something she had been thinking about herself, a part of her wondered if she should say anything at all. Was it something she needed to bring up? Would he want to know? Should he know? Would he care either way? Would it even matter? She wasn’t sure how to go about it, but perhaps not telling him would just be … easier. At the same time, Liam already seemed to be able to read her fairly well; she knew she lacked a poker face and was certain her nervousness would give her away.

****

“Thank you,” Liam smiled at the delivery man as he took the bag of food from him before handing him a wad of cash. “Keep the change.” 

The man nodded in thanks before turning and disappearing down the hall. Before the door closed, Liam heard a brief exchange being made; he poked his head out into the hall to see Croía passing the man, making her way toward his suite.

“Perfect timing,” Liam chuckled as he held the door open for her. 

“Thanks,” Croía smiled as she stepped inside.

Liam followed her, letting the door latch shut behind him as he carried the bag to the kitchen. “I got sushi from that Japanese place around the corner from campus,” he said as he started pulling out containers. “And some tempura … rice … steak …” 

“Who are you feeding?” Croía giggled. 

Liam chuckled as he looked at her. “I wanted us to have options.” After emptying the bag, he turned to her, cupping her face in his hands and leaning down, pressing a lingering kiss on her lips. “Hi,” he smiled as he drew back.

“Hi,” Croía smiled in return. “And thank you,” she gestured to the food. 

“What do you want to drink?” Liam asked as he moved to the refrigerator.

Croia sat on one of the stools at the counter. “Water please.” 

After grabbing two bottles of water and two dishes, Liam took the other stool, giving her one of each. They opened the containers, filling their plates. “How was the library with Alia?”

“It was good,” Croía nodded. “Just worked on my paper.” Using chopsticks, she lifted a piece of sushi to her mouth. 

“What class is it for again?” Liam asked. 

“The one I worked on today is for Foreign Policy and is due Wednesday. Then I have one for National Government due the following week.” 

The two talked and laughed while they ate, settling into their familiar comfortability, but in the back of both their minds were the lingering thoughts on where that night might go. 

And for two entirely different reasons.

****

After dinner, Croía followed Liam into his room to put her overnight bag in there. “Did you want to watch the movie out there or in here?” he asked as he looked at her.

“Oh, uh …” Croía smiled nervously. 

Liam chuckled at her awkward grin. “I’m fine with whatever.”

“Either one … doesn’t matter,” Croía replied.

Liam felt a flicker of anxiety pass through him; he couldn’t shake the thought that what had been on his mind since that morning had also been on hers … and she just put the ball in his court. Fuck. 

If he chose his room, he didn’t want to come off as having expectations because he didn’t. On the other hand, if he chose the living area, he didn’t want to come off as not wanting what started that morning to continue — if that’s what she wanted, too — because he did.

It wasn’t as if this was something new to him, so he wasn’t sure why the hell he was suddenly so nervous. 

“Uh,” Liam cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I can put it on in here,” he said. “If that’s good with you, I mean.” 

“Yeah,” Croía replied. 

Liam smiled with a nod before turning toward to grab the remote as Croía set her bag down in the corner of the room, feeling her cheeks start to burn. She closed her eyes and shook her head, telling herself she was overthinking everything. She let out a quiet breath before turning back toward him; she moved to his bed and climbed on as he scrolled through movie options. 

“Have you seen this?” Liam asked, stopping on one.

Croía shook her head. “No, but Alia was telling me about it a couple of weeks ago.” 

“That ok then?” Liam chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at her; when she nodded with a smile, he made the selection on the screen. He set the remote down on the nightstand and clicked off the light before joining her on the bed. He settled back against the headboard, lifting his arm, and she nestled into his side. 

****

The movie playing in the background had been long forgotten. Liam was propped up on his side with Croía on her back, their tongues languidly curling together; his hand rested on her waist as her fingers gently threaded through the hair on the nape of his neck.

They began to lose themselves in that kiss as it grew deeper, in every touch as they grew more eager and fervent. Liam slowly moved his hand to her hip, brushing his fingers against the exposed skin of her stomach just above the waistband of her pants; her body slightly and unwittingly arched into him. 

A soft smile played on his lips as he let out a quiet, breathy chuckle as he drew back. “Do you have any idea how badly I want you?” he whispered huskily before capturing her lips again.

Croía could feel her heart pounding, nerves mingling with anticipation of the unknown fluttering in her chest. She didn’t want to stop, but she knew it might be for the best; she wasn’t sure going into that night if she should say anything at all, but a little voice in her head was telling her that she needed to talk to him. She couldn’t bring herself to pull away from his lips, however. Each slow curl of his tongue against hers and feathery graze of his fingers on her skin only seemed to draw her in more.

Liam’s hand slid over her hip and down the back of her thigh before he gently pulled her leg up to his waist. When he shifted his hand back up, he splayed it against the small of her back, applying just enough pressure to cause her body to arch against him again, but now she could feel just how much both she and that kiss were affecting him as well. 

Croía let out a shuddered breath against his lips as she drew back. “Liam …” 

“Hmm?” Liam hummed in response before kissing the corner of her mouth. His lips moved to her jaw, and she closed her eyes as he slowly trailed them down to her neck. 

“I …” Croía paused, her heart racing faster as he continued placing feather-light kisses against her skin. “You should know — I mean, I need to — I’m … I’m a — I just haven’t — Liam, I’ve never …” Her stuttered whispers trailed off, and she held her breath when she felt him freeze. 

With his lips on her neck, Liam stilled, and his eyes snapped open. Registering her sudden nervous demeanor paired with what she said and how she said it, he immediately realized not only the meaning but the weight behind her words and what she was trying to tell him. And suddenly, other things he had noticed since meeting her began to make sense, like her reaction to that particular scene in the first movie they watched together and her being unable to answer Alia’s question, and her slightly nervous demeanor when they found themselves in moments just like this over the past several weeks. 

Liam slowly lifted his head to look at her; her eyes were squeezed shut and her brows knitted as he stared down at her for a silent moment. “You … you’ve never …” He swallowed thickly. “You’re saying that you’re a vir—” He was cut off when Croía sat up, covering her face with her hands to hide her embarrassment. His brows furrowed in concern as he sat up behind her. “Hey …” 

Croía let out a breath as her hands fell away from her face; she ran her fingers through her long hair, shaking her head. “No,” she said just above a whisper. “I’ve never … yes, I’m … I’m a virgin.” 

“Ok,” Liam said. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Croía glanced over her shoulder, giving him a look of disbelief. “It’s not.” 

Truth be told, the thoughts skipping through Liam’s mind at her revelation were not exactly all pure nor princely. The idea that she’d never been with anyone else, of potentially being her first — only if things ended up going down that road at some point because she wanted them to and felt comfortable enough to take them there — was a turn-on, and one he was not expecting. 

Liam cleared his throat, shaking the thoughts; that should be the last thing on his mind right now. “Really, Croía, please don’t be embarrassed. It’s a choice that you’ve made, and I have no problem respecting it.” 

Croía quietly scoffed as she looked away from him. “I wouldn’t exactly say it was a choice … at least not mine.” 

Liam furrowed his brows, placing his hand on her back. “What do you mean?” When she shook her head and remained quiet, he shifted closer, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Hey … you know you can talk to me.” 

Croía turned her head to meet his gaze as she let out a sigh; he tilted his head, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. After a moment, she turned her body to face him and glanced down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers as she spoke. “When I was 17, there was this … this guy …”

“A boyfriend?” Liam asked.

“No,” Croía shook her head. “He was the son of not only my mother’s head guard but her most trusted one. We practically grew up together because he lived in the staff quarters of the palace with his dad. And he was my friend … my only friend. And when we got older … things kind of started to … blossom into something more. Looking back now, it was more curiosity than anything else because we were really only ever around each other, but he was my first crush … my first kiss. We would always sneak off during balls and events at the palace … and we … fooled around, but nothing beyond a certain point.” Croía paused, taking a breath. “One night, my parents were hosting a dinner, and we snuck off like we normally did … and one thing started to lead to another, and we almost … but my sister, Lydea … she caught us before anything happened.” 

Liam’s eyes slightly widened. “Did she tell your parents?”

“Of course she did,” Croía scoffed, shaking her head. “Before everything happened with Trystan, Lydea abdicated her place in the line of succession because she didn’t want the crown; she said there were plenty of us to take her spot as the “back up.” What she wanted was to be in the Drakovian royal guard, which my parents approved. Over time, she made it no secret that she wanted to be the head of our royal guard, but there was one person standing in the way of that …”

“Your friend’s father …”

Croia nodded. “That night she caught us, she pulled me down to the ballroom, pulled my mom aside, and told her what she walked in on. My mom dragged me from the ballroom to my bedroom, absolutely furious. I tried telling her that I really cared for him … not to try and make an excuse for what almost happened, but to try and make her see that it wasn’t something random. She told me that I was a Princess and he was just a commoner and that he was only showing an interest in me because of my title. When I told her he didn’t care about my title but that he actually cared about me … she laughed in my face.” Liam saw a flicker of sadness flash in her eyes before speaking her next words. “She said that I had absolutely nothing to offer him … that I had nothing to offer anyone other than what I almost ‘gave up’ … and that I was a fool to ever think otherwise.” 

Croía looked away from Liam again, and his brows raised; he couldn’t imagine a parent saying that to their kid. 

“She left me in my room for the remainder of the night with two guards outside my door so I couldn’t leave. The next day … I snuck down to the staff quarters, wanting to apologize to him because I knew my mom probably went to his dad and that he must have been in so much trouble … but he was gone. My mom fired her guard and banished them. I never saw him again.” 

“Why would she fire the guard?” Liam asked incredulously.

“She was suddenly convinced that he pushed his son to show an interest in me, that he was trying to gain something from it. And once he was gone … Lydea became the head of the royal guard, just like she wanted.” 

Liam let out a breath. “Wow, that’s …” He trailed off, unsure of exactly what to say. 

“Yeah …” Croía sighed. “I was kept under even more of a lock and key after that. And that’s why I’ve never …” She trailed off. “I was never given an opportunity to meet anyone else.” She glanced up at him. “Not until I came here …”

Liam smiled, lifting his hand and brushing it across her cheek; she leaned into his touch, holding his gaze, unsure of what he was thinking. “Look, I’m in no hurry to rush things. And I certainly don’t want you to feel pressured into anything you don’t want—”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” Croía chuckled, and her cheeks blushed at her interruption. “Look, I know … I know I’m probably not what you’re used to … and that I don’t have as much experience as someone like you …” She trailed off, laughing at his expression. 

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” Liam waved his hand. “For the record, I’m not some kind of manwhore,” he chuckled. “You’re making me sound like that guy in this Hopeless Hearts movie,” he said, gesturing towards his television to the rom-com playing on the screen. “Like I have a different woman every night and can’t remember their names.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Croía laughed despite herself. “I just meant that I know you have more … experience than me … and while I may have never experienced that … I’m not completely inexperienced either,” she sheepishly smiled. 

Liam smiled in return as he took her hand in his. “So, we take things slow, and if it happens, it happens … if and when you’re ready,” he shrugged, his eyes alight with assurance as she stared back at him. “I want to share that with you, but only if it’s something that you want too,” he said quietly before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers in a soft, lingering kiss. “And if it does happen, just know … I’ll take care of you, Croía,” his voice came out as a whisper, deep and husky with promise. 

Croía smiled, feeling even more heat rise to her cheeks, but also some relief. “Keep talking like that …” Liam chuckled mischievously, pulling her back down to the pillows; propped up at her side again, he leaned down, brushing his lips against hers before kissing her again. When he drew back, resting his head on his hand, she met his gaze when her eyes fluttered open, and she softly smiled. “I … I almost didn’t tell you …”

Liam furrowed his brows. “Why?” 

“I don’t know,” Croía shrugged. “I’ve never had to worry about telling anyone before. I guess a part of me didn’t know if you’d want to know … or if it really even mattered if you knew. And I didn’t know if it would make you see me differently …”

“I would never see you differently because of that, Croía,” Liam shook his head. “And at the end of the day, this is your life and your choice to tell what you want about it and to who, but … I’m really glad you told me.” 

Croía softly smiled. “Thank you …”

“For what?”

“For just … being understanding.” 

“You don’t ever have to thank me for that,” Liam smiled. 

*******

The following Thursday, Liam and Croía walked hand-in-hand alongside Blaine from their final classes of the day, talking as they headed toward the guys’ building. They had no classes tomorrow due to a conference that was being held on their campus for professors from different universities all over.  

Liam glanced over at Blaine. “What time are you guys leaving?”

“Her parents said the jet should be here around four,” Blaine answered. 

Liam chuckled. “You got your suit ready for the birthday ball?”

“You royals and your damn balls,” Blaine shook his head, earning a laugh from both Liam and Croía. “But yes, I got it.”

Alia and Blaine were going away for the three-day weekend; they were leaving for Monterisso that evening to celebrate her sister’s birthday. 

Croía, who had finished and turned in one of her papers, was planning to spend the evening and most of tomorrow finishing her other that was due on Monday, that way, she wouldn’t have to worry about it over the long weekend, and could spend it with Liam. She was stopping by his suite before heading to hers to grab a book she had left there the night before. 

In the days since learning what Croía had told him that night in his suite, Liam had really been following her lead. Not that he wasn’t before, but knowing what he knew now, he became even more internally cautious of being too forward and crossing any boundaries. He didn’t want to be reckless with the situation or her; they had been together every night since, and while those moments they shared continued to grow more passionate, he was going to do nothing unless she initiated it. He wanted her to set the pace she was comfortable with, relinquishing pieces of herself only when she was ready. And he didn’t want her to feel any kind of pressure, especially on his behalf. 

The air of innocence Croía carried herself with, something Liam had always found endearing, made more sense to him now. She was practically the epitome of innocence. And while this was all new for her, it was new for him as well, albeit in a different way. He’d never been with anyone who was chaste; he’d never been someone else’s first. So when he said that he was glad she told him, he meant it. Contrary to what she may have thought, he felt that it definitely mattered if he knew; he would have felt awful if at some point something had happened between them and he somehow found out after the fact.

Once inside the suite, Liam went to his room to grab Croía’s book; he returned a moment later, meeting her in the kitchen as Blaine perused the refrigerator for a snack. “Here ya go.” 

“Thanks,” Croía smiled, taking the book from him. 

“Want me to do some meal prep for you so you don’t starve this weekend? Or are you just going to order out the whole time?” Blaine teased as he turned to face them.

“I am perfectly capable of cooking for myself,” Liam scoffed before turning back to Croía. Blaine met her gaze, widening his eyes slightly and shaking his head; when Liam saw her crack a smile, he whipped around, catching him. “I can cook!” Liam turned back to Croía. “I can cook.” 

Croía nodded. “Ok,” she chuckled. 

“Maybe you should cook her dinner this weekend to prove it,” Blaine suggested jokingly.

“Ok,” Liam replied without hesitation, earning a look from Blaine.

“Oh?” Croía smiled.

“Yeah …” Liam nodded. “Uh … tomorrow.” 

“That was supposed to be a joke,” Blaine sighed; he walked up to her, slinging an arm over her shoulder. “It’s been nice knowing you.” 

“Shut up,” Liam laughed, shaking his head. 

Croía chuckled before glancing at her watch. “I should go and get working on my paper.” 

Blaine patted her shoulder and stepped away before Liam walked her to the door. “I’ll call you later.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. 

“Ok,” Croía smiled. She glanced behind him at Blaine. “Have fun this weekend.”

When Croía left the suite, Liam headed back to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he clasped his hands together; he tucked the pads of his thumbs beneath his chin and steepled his pointer fingers over his lips as he began to wrack his brain.

Blaine looked at him, seeing the slight look of dread in his friend’s eyes, causing him to laugh. “You’re trying to think of what you’re going to do about making her dinner, aren’t you?” 

“What the hell was I thinking?” Liam chided. He knew the basics of cooking, of course, but to make a whole meal to impress his girlfriend with? Absolutely not. “Why would you even suggest that?”

“I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on it!” Blaine laughed. “That was your fault.” 

Liam stood straight as an idea struck, pulling his phone from his pocket; he quickly tapped the screen a few times before bringing it to his ear. 

****

Inside her study, Queen Eleanor sat next to Constantine as they looked over proposal paperwork; when her phone chimed with an incoming call, she glanced at the screen. “It’s Liam,” she smiled before answering, placing the call on speaker. “Hello.”

“Mom, I need your help!” 

Eleanor shared a look with Constantine before looking back at the screen, both of them straightening at the slight panic in their son’s voice. “What’s the matter?”

“I told Croía I would cook her dinner this weekend …” 

Eleanor covered her mouth to stifle a laugh as she looked at Constantine again; he let out a breath, sitting back and pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “Oh?” she squeaked in reply. “That was … really sweet of you.” 

“It’s not sweet when I don’t know what I’m doing, Mom!”

“Take a breath,” Eleanor giggled. 

“This is all Blaine’s fault.”

“It is not!” Blaine laughed in the background. “I only made the suggestion out of jest, Mama E! He’s the one that told her he could cook!”

Eleanor chuckled. “Ok, well … Croía doesn’t strike me as the type to expect anything fancy.”

“She’s not,” Liam agreed.

“So, I would suggest something easy then.”

“Ok,” Liam replied. “And … what exactly would you recommend?”

Eleanor thought for a moment. “How about just a simple homemade tomato pasta? You can’t really go wrong with that, and it’s one of your favorites that you can share with her.”

“Ok,” Liam said. “I think I can manage that …” He remained quiet for a moment. “What, um … what do I need to do?”

“Jesus Christ,” Constantine mumbled through a laugh beside his wife.

“Is that Dad?”

“Yes,” Eleanor giggled. “You’re on speaker …” 

“Perfect. Great.”

Constantine and Eleanor began to laugh just as a knock came on the door; it opened and Leo strode into the room. Seeing his parent’s amused expressions, he arched a curious brow. “What’s going on?”

Constantine met his eldest son’s gaze with a grin. “Your brother wants to cook dinner for a date.”

****

At the sound of his brother’s loud guffaw, Liam threw his head back with a grumble. “Liam wants to cook? Like, a real meal? For another human being?”

“Shut up, Leo!” 

“Oh, hey there, little bro,” Leo snorted. Liam could hear the door open again, and when he heard his mother greet his sister, he ran his hands down his face. 

“Why are we laughing?” Lena asked.

Leo chuckled. “Liam wants to cook dinner for his girlfriend.”

“Oh, good lord. I thought we’d at least get to meet the poor girl before he killed her,” Lena deplored. 

The sound of his family’s laughter came through the speaker, and Liam snapped his head up when he heard Blaine join in. “None of you are helping!” 

“That’s my cue!” Blaine chuckled as he grabbed his bag. “I’ll see you Sunday … and hopefully Croía will still be with us.” He laughed as he dodged a small plastic storage basket Liam had grabbed off the counter and threw at him. “Bye!” he yelled before quickly exiting the suite. 

After a moment, Liam heard the laughter on the other end fade into the background. “Ok, calm down,” Eleanor giggled. “Cooking dinner is not that big of a deal, Liam. Do you have a piece of paper?”

“Hold on.” Liam headed for his room; once inside, he grabbed a piece of paper from his desk. “Ok, got it.” He scribbled down Eleanor’s list of things he would need followed by her instructions on what he needed to do. 

“And just sample the sauce as you go,” Eleanor said. “You know what it’s supposed to taste like, so just add seasoning until it’s to your liking. That’s all there is to it.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Liam said, dropping his pen.

“Because it is easy. Stop worrying so much,” Eleanor chuckled. “I doubt your relationship with Croía is going to hinge on whether or not you can cook. At least, I hope not,” she jested.

“Mom,” Liam sighed.

“I’m only teasing,” Eleanor giggled. 

*******

The following evening, Liam stood over the stove inside Croía’s suite, finishing up dinner. Croía had been working on her paper since last night and had spent the majority of that day in the library with the intention of coming to his suite once she finished. He decided to bring the dinner to her place instead, getting her guard to let him inside; that way it would be ready when she got back and she didn’t have to go anywhere. 

After draining the pasta, Liam prepared both their plates and set them on the table. He took a step back, admiring his work and making sure he had everything; he snapped his fingers, turning toward the counter and grabbing the bowl of freshly grated cheese, placing it between the two plates. Taking another step back, he gave one last look over the table just as his phone rang in his pocket; he pulled it out, seeing Croía’s name flash across the screen. 

“Hey, you,” Liam answered.

“Hi,” Croía replied. “I’m walking into my building now to change and then I’ll be on my way over.”

“No worries.” Liam thought about telling her he was there but decided not to. “Did you finish your paper?” he asked as he heard the chime of the elevator in the background.

“Yeah, finally,” Croía huffed. “Give me about 10 minutes.” 

“Ok,” Liam chuckled. “See you in a few.”

The call ended and Liam slipped his phone back into his pocket. He walked to the switch near the kitchen, dimming the lights just as he heard fumbling against the door knob. 

Croía stepped inside a moment later, and came to a halt as the door fell shut and latched behind her; she set her things down, smiling with furrowed brows when she met his gaze. “What are you doing?”

Liam approached her with a grin, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips. “I told you I was going to make you dinner tonight, remember?” he said as he drew back. 

“I didn’t think you were actually serious,” Croía giggled. 

“Well, I was,” Liam chuckled. “And since you’ve been working on your paper all day, I figured I would bring the dinner here, so you didn’t have to worry about going anywhere.” 

When he stepped aside, Croía let out a breath when she saw the flickering candles on the table set for two. “Liam …” No one had ever done something like this for her before. 

“Come on,” Liam grinned as he guided her toward the table. He helped her into her chair before taking the seat across from her. 

Croía looked down at the pasta. “It smells good.”

“I hope it tastes ok,” Liam smiled sheepishly. “It’s just a simple homemade tomato pasta, but I have to confess … I might have exaggerated a little when I said I could cook … because outside of the basics, I’ve never really done much of it … so I kind of had to call my mom,” he chuckled. 

Shaking her head, Croía smiled as she stared at him. “This is very sweet, but you didn’t have to go through all of this trouble for me, Liam.” 

“I wanted to do it.” Liam smiled as he grabbed his water glass and held it up to her; she returned a grin of her own as she grabbed her glass and gently tapped it against his. “Now, if it’s terrible you need to tell me so I can order us some take-out.” 

Croía laughed as she grabbed her fork; she twirled a small bit of pasta onto it and leaned over, taking the first bite. As he watched her tentatively, she sat back and met his gaze with a smile. “You did good,” she nodded. “It’s delicious.” 

Liam smiled as he took a bite, wiping his mouth with a napkin before speaking. “It’s not quite the same as my mom’s … but close enough. I’ll call it a win,” he chuckled. When he caught her smiling at him, he gave her a questioning look. “What?”

“I just can’t believe you did this,” Croía shook her head. “No one’s ever made me dinner before.” 

Liam grinned. “Well, I’m glad I was the first.” 

****

Later on, long after they had finished dinner, Liam and Croía were in her room, settled on her bed; the television played a show in the background as the two became wrapped up in each other, another one of their moments, growing in intensity with each passing second. 

Liam remained cautiously aware of his every move. 

For Croía, however, as things grew more passionate, she felt her body thrumming in a way she never had before. With their limbs intertwined as their tongues curled together, his leg slightly shifted, and she unwittingly arched her hips as if her body was desperate to find something to alleviate the sudden ache she had. 

Liam’s hand instinctively moved to her waist, but when he felt her hand cover his and subtly urge it lower, he drew back from her lips. “Croía …” he whispered. 

“I-I … I want …” Croía stuttered through a breath. 

Brushing his lips against hers, Liam smiled. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” Croía breathed. “Something …” she chuckled nervously.

With her hand still on his, Liam searched her eyes, seeing both a question and an answer in them. “Tell me.” In a silent response, she shifted his hand a little lower in an attempt to show him instead. “Are you sure?” he questioned. She nodded. “I need to hear you say it, Croía.” 

Croía audibly swallowed with a nod. “I-I’m sure.” 

Liam stared at her for another moment, making sure there was no hesitation in her eyes before he kissed her again as his hand shifted lower and his fingers brushed against the button of her jeans. He felt her hand slide between them, grazing his stomach over the fabric of his shirt as it inched lower, but he gently grabbed her wrist to stop her, drawing back from her lips again. “One thing at a time,” he chuckled quietly. 

Croía smiled sheepishly yet curiously. “But … what about—”

“Don’t worry about me,” Liam interrupted as he shook his head. 

Knowing that she hadn’t really experienced much of anything, he wanted to focus on just her; he wasn’t worried about getting anything out of it for himself. And he didn’t want her to do too much too soon, especially not because she felt like she had to; he didn’t want her to feel obligated in any way and he was fine with taking things at a slower pace so that she was more comfortable. 

“I want this to be just about you,” Liam said. “So long as you’re still sure, that is …” 

Croía let out a soft breath, feeling her heart race as she nodded. “I’m sure.” 

Capturing her lips again, Liam moved at a meticulous pace as he kissed her slowly in between helping her maneuver out of first her shirt, then her jeans. He eyed the dark purple lace set she had on underneath as his hand sensually outlined the curve of her body before he met her gaze again; his fingers toyed purposely with the waistband of the lace that covered her as he stared at her, still watching for any signs of hesitation. When he saw none, he hooked his fingers through the fabric, sliding them down her legs.

After tossing them to the floor with the rest of her clothes, Liam noticed her legs were slightly bent and her knees together; he lightly dragged his fingertips up her thigh to her hip as his eyes met hers. “Relax …” She let out a breath before slowly opening to him. “Are you ok?”

Croía nodded, feeling his fingers trace lazy shapes along the inside of her thigh, which only caused her body���s ache for contact to heighten. “Yes,” she whispered. 

Liam’s eyes scanned over her, slowly drinking her in, now clad only in her bralette. “God, you’re beautiful.” His words earned a soft smile from her as he took her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing each of her fingertips, not wanting her to feel like he was in any kind of hurry. When he met her gaze, she drew his mouth back to hers; he kissed her as he began to shift his body. His lips parted from hers and slowly trailed from her neck down to her stomach; when he reached her navel, he paused and his eyes flickered up to see her watching him. “You’re sure?” he asked again, and Croía nodded. 

Liam settled between her legs and hooked his arms around her, his large hands gently curling around her thighs as he glanced up once more. When he met her gaze again, he could see both the anticipation and nerves in her expression. 

Croía was shy by nature, so when it came to anything intimate, he was expecting the same, at least to start. For someone like him, it was simple: Lay back and let me make you feel good. For someone like her, it was much more than that. And with her being shy and her admitted lack of experience, he wanted her to know that she could and should be vocal. Even if she didn’t say any words out loud, her sounds alone would tell him both what he needed and wanted to know. 

Liam turned his head, trailing a path of tender kisses down the inside of her thigh, getting her to relax just a bit more. He glanced up a moment later. “If something feels good … I want you to tell me.” 

Despite her body relaxing, her chest was rising and falling heavily, but the nerves had ebbed away, and it was just anticipation now. “Ok,” Croía whispered. She could just make out the hint of his lips curling into a smile before he dipped his head. 

When she felt his warm breath ghost her center, Croía’s eyes fell shut, and he placed a soft kiss just above where she craved his attention. When his lips moved lower with another teasing kiss, she let out a breath. 

A moment later, she felt his tongue. 

A soft gasp escaped Croía as she subtly arched her back, feeling him lick a long, slow strip. When she felt his lips wrap around her and his tongue slowly swirl, she couldn’t help the quiet breathy moan that instinctively fell from her lips as they parted. Unsure of what to do with her hands, she dropped them to her sides, gripping the sheets as another whisper of a moan fell from her lips. 

Every thought she had became clouded in a haze as she started to drown under the sensation he was giving her. 

Liam paid careful attention to every breathy sound he drew from her as he worked her slowly toward the edge. His eyes kept flickering up, gauging her, watching during those quiet moments when her lips would part, seeing her fist the sheets as she slightly rolled her hips. 

Liam drew back, circling his thumb over her most sensitive spot. “Do you want more?” he asked as his finger gently stroked her. 

Croía lifted her head off the pillow to meet his gaze, biting her lip coyly when she saw him smiling. Her head dropped back with another quiet moan as his thumb continued to move against her. “Yes,” she breathed. 

“Yes, what?” Liam playfully whispered.

“Yes, I-I … I want more.” 

“You need to tell me if it’s too much,” Liam said, and he saw her nod impatiently. 

Croía slightly tensed as he slowly added a finger, but it wasn’t too much; it was just enough. A moment later, a gasp escaped her when he replaced his thumb with his tongue. The sensation of his mouth as he leisurely worked her with his finger caused her grip on the sheets to tighten as a surge of warmth shot through her whole body. Her breaths became more ragged as pleasure started to ceaselessly ripple through her with each swirl of his tongue before she was suddenly drowning under a crashing wave of it. Her back arched with a moan as her eyes squeezed shut, feeling almost out of her own body as it trembled. 

Liam relaxed his ministrations, slowly working her through her release as her legs quivered. When he saw the grip she had on the sheets let up, he lifted his head; her neck and chest were flushed as she tried to slow her breathing. 

After a few moments, Liam shifted his body to lay beside her, settling his hand on her waist as he met her gaze when she opened her eyes. “Are you ok?” 

Croía was unable to stop the smile that curved on her lips as she nodded, earning a chuckle from him before he leaned down, capturing her lips in his. Her hand curled around his neck and he kissed her slow and deep as she continued to come down from the high he’d just given her. 

A few long moments later, once she fully relaxed, Croía reached up, grabbing her robe off the bedpost; she sat up, slipping her arms into the sleeves before rising from the bed. She gathered her clothes from the floor, tossing them into the laundry basket before pulling out a T-shirt and shorts from her dresser. She walked by the bed, headed for her bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”  

Reaching up and grabbing her hand, Liam smiled when she laughed as she pulled her back down, kissing her once more before she drew back. When she disappeared inside the bathroom, he flopped back on the bed, letting out a breath as he ran his hand down his face; he tried thinking of anything other than what just happened in order to will his thoughts in another direction before she returned. Leo’s smelly tennis shoes … Maxwell’s avocado toast smoothies … a chair … Rocky Mountain Oysters. He grimaced before he sighed; that did it. He was completely content with focusing on her, yes, but he was also still human, one who needed a moment to compose himself. 

Liam stood from the bed and went to his bag near the door; he changed into his sweatpants before grabbing his toothbrush and slipping out of her room for a moment. 

A short time later, Croía emerged from the bathroom, clad in her T-shirt and shorts. She saw Liam laying on her bed, now in his sweatpants. He smiled as she walked around the bed and climbed on, holding his arm up in invitation. When she slipped beneath the blanket and curled into his side, he kissed the top of her head. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” Croía nodded before tilting her head back to look at him. “I just kind of … I feel bad,” she smiled sheepishly. 

Knowing what she was referring to, he smiled and shook his head. “Do not feel bad,” he insisted before kissing her softly. “I told you, don’t worry about me. I wanted it to be about taking care of you.” 

Croía smiled, lifting her head to press her lips to his; he brushed his hand across her cheek as the kiss lingered before he slowly drew back. He pulled her closer to his side as she laid her head on his chest, turning their attention to the tv before they drifted to sleep.

*******

Liam’s arm was draped over Croía’s waist when a banging noise startled her awake the following morning. She lifted her head as her brows furrowed, and a moment later, she heard it again. Someone was knocking on the door, rather incessantly and obnoxiously.

“Whoever that is clearly doesn’t realize it’s a Saturday morning,” Liam mumbled beside her. Croía quietly chuckled as she looked at him; he cracked open one eye, offering a sleepy smile. “Morning.” 

“Good morn—” Croía was interrupted by the banging again as they stared at each other. “I should go see who it is.” 

Croía stood from the bed, running her fingers through her tousled hair as she stepped out of her room. As she made her way towards the door, thoughts of the night before filled her head, causing her to smile as her chest fluttered. 

When she got to the door, Croía reached for the knob, and when she opened it and saw the person on the other side, her eyes widened. 

Croía swallowed thickly as the color drained from her face and a familiar crippling anxiety slowly filled her body to its core.  

“Mom …” 

***************************************

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[nova--spark]

We’ve had a lot of questions about the autobots (especially the Brady Oplita Bunch). But what have the decepticons doing?

Last we saw them…

Megatron is somewhere (likely still on Cybertron)

Starscream was in a coma and will probably get sent to prison as soon as he wakes up l

Soundwave is still in the alternate dimension (how has he not run out of Energon?)

I have no idea where Shockwave ended up

Knockout switched sides at the last second

And Arachnid is on Cybertron’s moon

Oh goodness, ok so I briefly covered it in passing, when asked about Knockout when the Trio visited Cybertron but.

Megatron

For the large majority, Megatron has remained in his self imposed exile, off world. He has made no effort to make contact to Cybertron, only once in fact did he return, before his exile resumed. It was to make a final denouncement of the Decepticon faction, that all who still followed him were not ordered nor encouraged by him any longer.

There are passing rumors sometimes, from smaller colonies, that a war frame of gold and steel roams the planets, as if trying to find purpose. Optimus hopes that perhaps, one day his former brother may regain one.

Starscream

Has been indeed kept in a stasis lock/comatose state, largely due to the damage that came from the Mini-Cons he forced into his command. As a result, he is monitored by Elite Guards and highly ranked medics, in the event he wakes up. Knockout has paid a visit or two, if only to think of how the 'mighty' have fallen.

Soundwave and Shockwave

Soundwave has remained in custody, likewise, of the Elite Guard, after his break out and arrest for his crimes during and after the war, even if he was unaware the war had ended at the times of his attacks and battles with Team Bee. He is kept isolated from other prisoners, and is heavily guarded due to the dangers he posed.

Shockwave has also been imprisoned, for his crimes against Cybertronian life, and is kept in a high security facility.

Knockout

Knockout adjusted decently enough in the rebuilding of Cybertron. He took his medical skills more seriously, and began a mods/cosmetics practice of his own.

Ranging form custom paint jobs to added modifications, he's also done work in prosthetic surgery. To honor Breakdown's memory.

He does well enough for himself, having sided in the end and fully changed to become an Autobot in frame and spark. Sure he gets the odd snark from veterans but...he takes it on the chin with honor, knowing he did indeed cause pain to others. So, he tries his best to heal that pain now. Not many know, but he managed to salvage a spacebridge with coordinates to Earth. Sometimes, when he most misses Breakdown, he goes there to visit the old dusty deserts of Jasper, if only to reminisce or join the odd street race or two, maybe catch a movie in a drive in.

Airachnid

Having little to no escape off Cybertron's moon, she has indeed resorted to syphoning the Energon of her many troops to fuel herself, which has sustained her thus far.

It will not last forvever though, and she has taken to scouring the solitary celestial site for whatever she can to either fuel herself, or get herself off planet.

The first thing she plans to do once back where she belongs :

Syphon every living thing with Energon in it's veins.

[bropunzeling]

14 & 29 😊

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

oh gosh. i think maybe marriage bets if only (a) i think it would translate best to a visual medium and (b) i fucking love romcoms and our society is NOT on the ball in terms of giving the people (me) what they want (more romcoms). that said almost every fic i write has one scene where i would LOVE an art of it because my visual for it is so strong: contenders are the parking lot forehead kiss in girl!leon, the party in my kj/op as good as gold fic, any of the kitchen scenes in omega matthew, brady and quinn walking back to the hotel in the quinn-sees-the-future-maybe fic.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

im probably never gonna write this matthew/leon break-up make-up as it is right now so here's a bit from the beginning:

It’s only once he’s parked in the garage and let himself into the kitchen that he looks at his phone, checking Hanny’s messages first. There’s one from early in the day, back at the start of Matthew’s golf game: hahahahaha damn. Then, from around the time Matthew was driving:

holy shit dude

are you seeing this

matthew?

do i need to call you?

dude

Matthew frowns. He switches to his texts with Brady, but Brady hadn’t sent much. Just a link, and, u gonna be ok?

Matthew blinks at the text. Clicks the link and lets it take him to the NHL app.

Leon Draisaitl to Florida for [Bobrovsky and Someone]

Matthew stops reading. He sets his phone down, then grips the edge of the granite countertop, until it bites into his fingers. Bile rises up in his throat. For three long seconds, he feels absolutely sure he’s going to puke.

He doesn’t puke. Instead he swallows, and heads straight to the fridge to grab a beer. He drinks a third of it standing in front of the open refrigerator door, feeling the cool air on his face as his throat works. When he has to stop, he sets the beer on the counter and paces back over to where his phone is lying innocently, like it hasn’t derailed Matthew's life.

It’s too easy to scroll through his phone contacts until he hits the Ds, until he finds the one that he wants: DO NOT TEXT ⛔⛔⛔. Last conversation: August 1st, 2022.

He taps out: are you fucking kidding me

He doesn’t send it.

[theanticool]

About a year ago I asked how JDM would stack against the other contenders at 170. Since then he's had three fights and his last he knocked out Burns a strong wrestler and grappler. After everything you've seen in the past year how does he stack up with the rest of the current division? Guys like Shavkat, Belal, Edwards, Ian Garry, Sean Brady, etc.?

I think the good thing for JDM is that, at this point, Burns is probably the best shot wrestler at the top of 170lbs. Edwards is ok at it but a lot of his takedowns come from extensive clinch wrestling. Same with Shavkat. His lead foot heavy style, forward pressure, and questionable wrestling instincts (shouts to him going for that same wizzar kick he ‘hit’ against Basil Hafez in the 3rd round against Burns) make him a target for guys who can get down underneath him. It’s why Hafez was able to take him down. Burns was able, intentionally or not, to turn those big level changes into big offense in the 2nd when he landed that big elbow and the overhand. Both came outs hat ducked down position. And JDM showed he’s a tough guy to keep down. He can really scramble up when he needs to.

I don’t take Sean Brady seriously in this match up. Man’s ability to wrestle and boxing defense completely evaporated in the face of Belal’s pressure. And that is Belal. For as talented and relentless a grappler he is, how can I trust him if he gets tagged and can’t immediately grab hold?

I do not trust Leon Edwards against high volume pressure fighters. Never have, never will. There’s a chance that Edwards is able to pick off JDM from range and keep the fight at a brisk pace, but I do not trust him to do that for 5 rounds. Like Nate and Colby were able to eventually find paths to their offense. If they can manage to do that in 25 minutes, I trust a big punching switch hitter like JDM with actual pressuring mechanics.

The best analogue for a Belal match up is probably Luque. Much like Burns, Belal was able to use lateral movement to set up his entries. Where I think JDM would have success over a guy like Luque is that he will likely not overstay his welcome. Luque is foot slow and Belal was able to turn him, occupying him with his hands while moving and then shooting for the leg. The concerning thing for JDM is he also likes that high crotch single leg on southpaw fighters. That said, I think I’d favor JDM. Belal does really struggle with southpaws and I have to think that a fighter with a more active lead hand and less likely to just plant and fire back makes him more he less likely to shoot in.

Ian Garry is weird. We’ve seen him struggle with a pressure fighter before (was it Gabe Green) but he managed to overcome with some really smart adjustments. The problem is that he recently fought Neal and just looked pedestrian at dealing with pressure. To the point a lot of his responses were turning and circling out at full speed. Not what you want to do against JDM.

Shavkat is by far the most interesting fight. A guy who will not let JDM pressure. Who will tie up with him if he does get backed up. A guy who is a smooth operator at mid range. But also a guy who we’ve seen hurt by crafty southpaws on the inside and outside. He’s not going to be able to get underneath JDM for easy takedowns and since Maddalena does not really kick, the takedowns are coming from the clinch. If he got JDM down, I trust him the most to actually do damage with any top position he gets. Also, he’s got those amazing knees that I could see JDM getting caught with should he look for the rear hand. I’m curious if he’d fight Shavkat out of southpaw because while he had some issues, a lot of his best offense was beating up on Neal by taking advantage of the angles the open guard match up presents.

They’re all great fights though. Hopefully we get the JDM vs Shavkat fight. Either for #1 contender or the title, should one of them beat Edwards.

[runawaymun]

Trick or treat! What about a line or two from something that'll likely never see the light of day from the WIP folder?

Ohhhh this is a fun question!

Ok so with @the-commonplace-book's permission, I shall share quite a few chunks of a little story we wrote together for fun, mostly just to take a break from some of our more serious joint projects, which is the MGME trope, but make it a couple of kids and their shitty parents -- who are some longstanding OCs which have been knocking about for years from a different, really cool project that she's working on. Mostly this whole thing began with, "what if Torin and Finley met Elrond and he could maybe dad them a bit? Wouldn't that be fun?"

The first section includes Glorfindel rescuing the parents from some Trolls (classic) after they fall into Middle Earth, and then I'll just select chunks at random. We wound up dropping it because we got to a point where we got bored, but it was a really good time while it lasted and spawned a totally different (but similar) idea which we poke at every once in a while.

This could get quite long :D

-

Neil and Deidre had been bickering so loudly and incessantly, that they hadn’t heard the thud! thud! thud! approaching until it was just behind them. They spun around just in time to see an enormous grey monster reaching for them. 

They scrambled to escape, but it had them in their clutches - one in each giant hand. It was as rank as it was ugly, and no matter how much they squirmed and screamed, it wouldn’t let them go.

It carried them a ways through the woods, to a camp just outside a cave, where another giant grey creature sat tending a fire proportionate to their size. They began to chat.

If they had spoken the local tongue they might have understood the conversation as:

“What do you have there, Art?” 

“Oh just some tasty morsels for tonight’s stew! Caught them scrambling about the edge of the moor, I did.”

“That one’s got a good bit of fat on him.” The second troll said, poking Deirdre with a thick grimy finger. 

Art yanked her back, sending Deirdre screeching anew. “Hands to yourself, Wildo. I found them. I’m cooking them up.”

“There’s plenty to share! With that one at least.”

“This one’s mine. You can have the skinny one.” He tossed Neil to Wildo, who fumbled the catch, much to Neil’s increasing distress.

Of course, Neil and Deirdre Brady couldn’t speak this language, and so they were left in a fright, with monstrous creatures tossing them about and speaking utter nonsense. Perhaps it was for the best. No one, of course, wants to know that they are about to be roasted alive for lunch.

-

Trolls were nothing to sniff at.

They raised such a horrid stink.

Glorfindel had been waiting just at the edge of the cave this lot was living in, having been drawn by the orange glow this side of the hill. A glow that bright in the middle of the night in the Trollshaws only meant one thing. And these trolls were too close to the main road not to be a nuisance to travelers. 

He’d been waiting because he had only counted one troll at the fire and they generally never lived alone if they could help it. It would be better to bag them both at once.

He was handsomely rewarded when the troll’s companion returned with dinner. 

A very loud dinner.

The screeching was warranted, but hard to listen to. Glorfindel winced. No time to waste!

He left Asfaloth where he was –there was no sense risking him with the trolls– and strode into the ring of light, Aurë flashing in his hands, and called out jovially:

“Ho, my friends! What a nice catch you have!” 

Both trolls froze and turned to look at the intruder. 

Glorfindel gave Aurë a whirl and then gripped the hilt with both hands. “Mind if I join you for dinner?” 

Before either Art or Wildo could decide how to react (trolls were, of course, rather slow creatures), Glorfindel raised his voice in a battle Song which forced both to drop their prizes and clutch their ears in horror. He sprinted toward them, Singing, and cut Art down with one long slice to his belly. Wildo recovered quicker, and grabbed the wicked-looking knife from his belt– which was about the size of Aurë– and waved it wildly in Glorfindel’s direction with a terrified shout.

Glorfindel neatly sidestepped each cut, parried, and then stabbed Wildo straight in the knee.

The troll howled in pain and sank to his knees. Glorfindel took the opportunity to plunge Aurë straight into the beast’s eye, right up to the hilt.

It took a bit of a yank to get the sword out again, which was tiresome. He had to put a boot to the creature’s skull to get enough leverage.

Panting, he cleaned Aurë and sheathed it, then turned and held out a gloved hand, glowing with golden light, to the woman first. 

“Right. I hope you are not terribly hurt. Nasty things, trolls.” 

-

(and later, the twins find the two boys in the forest and, after discovering that they speak no recognizable language, bring them to Rivendell to see if Elrond can figure out how to communicate with them)

The twins led the boys up to the house. It was buzzing with activity this time of day, elves going to-and-from the healing halls or the kitchen, some Dunedain guests milling about. They passed a group of hunters heading out for the diurnal prey that would be out soon. 

Elrohir would have liked to get the boys another meal before doing anything else, but it was best to figure out what language they were speaking first. They climbed the stairs to the second floor, then went out to the garden and passed Lindir, who greeted them with a bow.

“Ada’s in his study?” Elladan asked.

Lindir nodded. “I have just come from there.” His eyes fell to the boys with curiosity, and then flicked back up to the twins. 

“Uh…we’ll explain later. We really have to talk to him,” Elladan said again, and said goodbye and continued on past the courtyard to knock on the door to his father’s study and then went inside.

Elrond was indeed there, bent over some letters with Erestor at his side. Both of them looked over and Elrond straightened. He probably meant inquire after the hunt, but paused at once when he saw the boys.

Before the inevitable could be asked, Elrohir cut in: “We found them at the edge of the trollshaws alone and lost. No sign of any adults. Um– and I have no idea what language they’re speaking.”

“He tried everything,” Elladan added. “They don’t speak common. Elrohir even tried Khuzdul and Haradi but they recognized nothing.” 

Elrond held up a hand to still them both and slowly came over. The boys had dark hair and light eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he would think they were Elros’ kin. But if what Elladan and Elrohir said was true, then he couldn’t imagine how that could be. 

“The trollshaws?” From behind him, Erestor was incredulous. “What were they doing in the trollshaws? That is a long way from any Mannish settlement in the area.” 

“I imagine we shall find out if we talk to them,” Elrond said evenly. He wished to hear them speak, if only to take a stab at a language root. He sank down to their level (his height was hard to handle for some grown men, let alone two children), and then put a hand to his chest and introduced, “Elrond.” And gestured to the eldest. 

Torin kept his feet firmly planted on the floor, despite the way this man’s presence made him want to cower. He was tall - taller than any man Torin had ever met. His grey eyes looked old beyond his years and when he knelt to Finley’s level with those careful, gentle motions and that disarming tone, a profound sense of unease and acute distrust churned in Torin’s gut.

“Torin. We’re just looking for a phone.” He held his hand to his ear, fingers extended to pantomime it, and searched the man’s face for any sign of understanding. “Phone? Cell? Ring ring?”

Finley shrunk behind his brother. 

Elrond cocked his head. The gesture was completely unfamiliar. The language…he supposed he didn’t have enough information to discern a root, though if he had to guess it might be Rohirric in nature. 

The three questions in quick succession were clearly an attempt at some sort of clarification. Synonyms. But unfortunately he hadn’t the faintest idea of what any of it meant.

He glanced up at the twins, who looked baffled, and then sat back on his haunches and decided on: “Well met, Torin. I am afraid I don’t know how to help you,” because regardless of whether or not they understood each other, he was still going to give him the respect of speaking to him. “But I promise I will do my best to find how.” 

“You don’t know what they’re speaking?” Elladan was astounded.

“Unfortunately I do not. It is a puzzle,” Elrond replied back. 

The only thing Torin understood out of all that was his name. It was swiftly become clear they either had no idea what a phone was, or simply didn’t have any here and were trying to explain that. 

“Fuck,” he said, guessing that was as gibberish to them as anything else in English. If he hadn’t left his damn phone charging in his room they wouldn’t be in this mess.

“Okay, uh, Plan B,” he said, not even bothering to whisper. They couldn’t understand what he was saying to his brother anyway. “We’re gonna get some more food and figure out where the hell we are, and then figure out the real Plan B.”

Finley nodded mutely.

Torin took out the little wrapped bread from earlier and held it up, pointing to it. “Food?” 

At that, Elrond lit up into a warm smile. It was an easily understood question.

“That was going to be my next suggestion, in fact. Food,” he repeated the unfamiliar word. “Yes.” 

The letters were entirely forgotten with his attention entirely diverted onto this new puzzle. Erestor let out a long-suffering sigh and gathered them up into a neat stack. Elrond stood and started for the door beckoning. 

“I’ll go get them something,” Elladan said, heading down to the kitchen. “Terrace?”

Elrond hummed in assent, and started up the walkway to the third floor, Elrohir following behind. 

-

Elrond led them back downstairs, all the way to the first floor of the library. He waved to Iûldis as they passed her desk on their way in. She paid him a polite nod of her head. Elrond led them through the rows of books until they came to the selection of maps. He took one down and rolled it out on the nearest table large enough to accommodate it, took a moment to orient himself, and then pointed to Rivendell.

“We’re here. Rivendell.” He then traced over the mountains to: “Dale,” then downward, “Rohan,” further south. “Gondor. Minas Tirith.” And finally, back over the mountains, being sure to trace slowly all the way west. “Bree.” Then, “Ered Luin.” 

Torin may not have been a geography whiz, but he knew a map of world and knew this sure as hell wasn’t it. 

“Are you fucking joking?” Torin shook his head. “You don’t even have a real map. That’s grand. Fantastic. Fuck!” He grabbed the map and threw it off the table like the useless piece of garbage it was.

Finley flinched and shrunk back, worrying at his sleeves, stiff with shoulder hunched up to his ears. 

Torin pointed an angry finger at Elrond. “Tell us where the hell we are!”

“Riv–” Finley tried to say Rivendell. He’d picked up that much. Not that he knew where or what Rivendell was, but it was where they were. The word couldn’t form. It tangled up in his mouth. “Ri–”  Rivendell. Rivendell. Rivendell. It was right there caught in his throat behind a lump of anxiety.

Elrond took the outburst in stride. He watched the map drift to the floor, and then returned his attention to Torin.  Iûldis had crept over at the commotion and was leaning around to glare at them all disapprovingly from around the bookcase. He shot her an apologetic smile and bent to retrieve the map. Thankfully, it was not damaged.

He rolled it up and reshelved it.

“Rivendell,” he repeated, because the question was clear and Torin’s little brother’s answer was also predictable. “That is where you are. And if you dislike the map we can look at others, but I am not sure if they will be of any use to you.”

He had begun to radiate a gentle flow of calm through the floor, if only because he could feel how fast the little one’s heartbeat was. It also may help keep the surrounding books intact. 

Torin couldn’t pinpoint how, but he got the sense Elrond was trying to calm him down and that only put him further on edge. “ Ireland. Europe. British Isles. Dublin. Any of that mean anything to you?!” 

He couldn’t tell if this was an elaborate act of if they really were that disconnected from society. For concerning recent events, the cosmic phenomenon they experienced yesterday had nothing on the presence of these pointy-eared bastards.

-

Elladan and Elrohir decided to go upstairs and get some sleep. They had slept little on their hunt, especially the night before, and it was beginning to catch up with them. On their way in, though, they stopped to check on the boys. 

“Torin screamed at Ada,” Elladan muttered with a laugh. “Everyone’s talking about it.”

Elrohir’s eyes grew wide. “He’s lucky Erestor wasn’t there. He would have put him over his knee. Ai, I can still remember the first and last time I ever did that.” 

Erestor had never done anything of the sort, of course, but the scathing disapproval had hurt just as much. He’d been in the room at the time. Ada had simply taken it in stride, asked him if he was finished, and then sent him to study a corner of the nursery for three hours. The boredom had been another kind of pain.

-

(Glorfindel arrives with Neil and Deidre, and they go to "reunite" with the boys but uhhhhh it does not go well... partially due to the language barrier but also due to the shitty family dynamic which the elves have no way of knowing about)

Celebrían led the boys upstairs. Elrond and Glorfindel came in before they could make it all the way to the terrace, meeting them in the hall. They had to sorely bedraggled adults with them who, Celebrían guessed, looked quite a lot like both boys. 

“Glorfindel! It’s good to see you back!” she shot him a bright smile.

Glorfindel’s smile that he gave her in return was radiant as ever. “It’s good to be back.” 

Torin froze. His body went stiff and he planted his feet. No. No, no no.

There were their parents, tired, with muddy clothes and tired eyes. Relief washed over their faces at the sight of him, but Torin didn’t share the sentiment. He knew it was a lie.

“Torin!” His mum went to hug him and he shrugged her off. His dad placed a hand on his shoulder and he stiffened. 

“We’ve been looking for you for over a day. We were worried sick.” 

“Yeah I’ll bet you were,” Torin grumbled. 

“Where’s your brother?” The concern carried a nearly imperceptible edge.

Torin looked to his side. Finley was gone. Fuck. His eyes turned to his dad’s with a sharp glare. “What do you care?”

Neil sighed, like dealing with a petulant child, and tried to ask after Finley. “The smaller one? Finley?” He indicated the height, hoping one of the strangers (and they truly were strange) could help.

No one knew what to make of the strange encounter. This was not how they had expected it to go. Torin did not look glad to see his parents. Elrond began to wonder if it had not been an accident that they had been separated. 

So focused were they all on the conversation that it came as a terrible surprise when Torin’s father (whom Glorfindel had introduced as Neil) asked about Finley. Before Elrond could register what he meant, Celebrían frowned, looking around. 

“He was just here–”

Ah. Finley was the little one. And he had gone missing in a matter of seconds. Elrond’s heart jumped. He craned his neck. Sure enough, Finley was nowhere in sight.

He shot Neil an apologetic smile and said, “I will look for him. Celebrían, could you have Lindir make up a room?” 

A little shaken, Celebrían nodded. She couldn’t imagine how Finley had been so quiet, nor so quick, that no one had noticed him disappear. 

Elrond set off. Glorfindel took it upon himself to introduce: “Lady Celebrían, this is Neil, and his fucking cunt Deidre.” He said it cheerily, gesturing between the two of them, looking very proud of himself for picking up on the word for spouse from all of their bickering. 

Celebrían shot them a smile and touched her hand to her chest and inclined her head. “Well met. Celebrían,” she introduced herself. 

Deirdre, however, squawked in offense and, before Neil could stop her, slapped Glorfindel. “How dare you!” 

“Deirdre!” He reached her a moment too late. 

“You heard what he called me!” 

“You really think he knows what that means?”

“Well– Well then it’s your fault! He must have picked it up from you!”

Meanwhile, Torin burst into laughter the moment Glorfindel said it. “No, no.” He gave a thumbs up to Glorfindel and pointed to his mum, still laughing. “His fucking cunt.”

“WIFE! I’m his wife!” Deirdre screeched. 

“Torin.” Neil shot him a warning glare, but then those eyes flicked around their company. 

Torin, knowing his dad couldn’t do shit in public, just shrugged and gave him a shit-eating grin. “You said it first.”

Glorfindel was so surprised by this entire thing that he froze. Celebrían’s eyebrows rose. She put her hands on her hips, ready to lash out at Deidre despite her being a guest because they most certainly did not allow anyone to strike anyone in her house– but at Torin’s reaction and Deidre’s apparently correction, the situation became clear.

“Glorfindel– I think that doesn’t mean what you think it means,” she said slowly.

Glorfindel looked between Torin, Celebrían, Neil, and Deidre. “He called her that the whole time!” 

“Maybe they don’t get along as well as you thought,”  Celebrían said with a thin, albeit amused, smile. 

Glorfindel blushed and ducked his head in Deidre’s direction. “I misunderstood. My deepest apologies.” 

Deirdre huffed, but accepted what she hoped was an apology. “Does anyone here speak English?” she demanded. 

“Nope,” Torin said. “No English. No phones. No maps. We’re fucking stranded with these weirdos in this godforsaken larping compound.”

-

(one last little snippet here, after Finley bolts to get away from his parents, Elrond goes off to find him).

Elrond set off from the group. When he turned the corner in the hall, he stopped, shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and blocked everything out to attune to the floor beneath his feet. 

Sure enough, it was faint, but there was a tiny heartbeat some distance away, racing at breakneck speed. 

He followed it down to the second floor, past the rows and rows of guest rooms, hardly saying hello to anyone as he passed them. It grew stronger and stronger until he came to his study. The corners of his mouth twitched. Silently, he slipped in and padded over. The source of the heartbeat came from behind his desk. 

If Finley’s first reaction upon seeing his parents was to hide, that was a bad sign. Torin had, really, reacted no better. Elrond was in no hurry to return Finley to them at present. More than likely it was only out of anxiety that they would be angry with him for running off, or getting lost, or any number of things. But this was such a strong reaction that Elrond worried it might be something more than that.

He sank down to the floor to sit on the other side of his desk, resting his back against it and reclining. 

“Finley, is it?” 

He was glad that he finally knew the little one’s name. He kept his voice soft, hardly above a whisper, and began to radiate a gentle pool of calm, hoping that Finley might come out on his own. 

Finley wasn’t sure how he got here, or where here even was. His arms wrapped around his knees, squeezing so, so tight; he felt he might crumble into a million little pieces if he let go. He couldn’t stop shaking, his head was spinning, his chest wound tight, and he could barely breathe. 

I shouldn’t have run. I shouldn’t have run. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry. 

The words filled his thoughts to the brim like swelling pressure against a frail dam. The door opened. His whimpers silenced and he pressed against the corner of the wood. 

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Go away. Please go away. Please don’t–

The footsteps stopped on the other side of the wood. A pause, then a voice. That wasn’t his dad. He felt like he should know who it was, but couldn’t remember through the screaming mess in his head. Whoever it was, he had a gentle voice. Finley felt the air come back into his lungs. Tears sprung from his eyes. 

He opened his mouth, but not words would come out. They all tangled up in his clenching chest.

It was quiet for a long time, save only for the sound of Finley’s still-racing heart, his sniffling, and the little sounds of distress he was making every so often. Panic. Elrond’s chest twisted. He briefly considered going to fetch Torin, but that might mean alerting Finley’s parents that he had been found. He had no intention of doing so until Finley was calm and they had a chance to…

…what, talk? They couldn’t. Elrond bit the inside of his cheek, frustrated. He squashed the feeling as soon as it rose before it could bleed out of him.

Finley neither spoke nor came out from under the desk, though his heart did slow somewhat. Elrond fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully reached behind him to set it at the corner of the desk, within reach without forcing Finley to come out before he was ready.

After another long stretch, an idea occurred to him. It was risky– especially in the state Finley was in– but there was a chance they might be able to communicate.

Tentatively, with the upmost care to be gentle, Elrond reached out and brushed Finley’s whirring, anxious mind with his own. 

‘I am not here to make you come out,’ he told him, hoping that at least something would be intelligible, ‘don’t fret.’

The voice, or… impression of a voice, was warm. It felt the same as the calming presence that had begun to ease his fear. Not banish it, but lessen it at least. What he imagining things? He figured he must be. His dad said his grandma used to hear things that weren’t there. 

Whatever he was, a real or not, Finley’s thoughts tumbled back to him.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run away. I just got really scared. I don’t know where I am or if Torin’s okay. He was probably so mad and it’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have run away. I’m sorry.’

The response was remarkably clear, for all its rushing current of fear which choked the words. Elrond let out a relieved breath.

‘Torin is well. He is safe,’ he told him at once. ‘And to my knowledge no one is angry with you. Only worried.’ 

Finley buried his face in his knees and pulled them closer to his chest, biting his lip so hard he tasted blood. ‘No. No he’s angry. He’s really really angry and it’s my fault. It’s my fault because I ran away and now he’s gonna hurt Torin and it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have run away or hid the rings or taken the rings or anything. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!’ 

“I’m– I– I– I’m s–” the words stumbled weakly out of his mouth. “‘m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Elrond shifted, rounding the desk to settle down once more a fair distance away, within Finley’s line of sight, but neither blocking his exits nor forcing either of them to look directly at each other. 

‘No one will hurt Torin in my house. I will not let them,’ he replied back, firm and steadfast, but still gentle and warm. ‘is it your father that scares you so much, tithen pen?’ 

Finley didn’t look up when he moved around the desk. He kept his face buried in his knees, but nodded, just a little. 

‘He was really angry, ‘cause I took something I wasn’t supposed to and now we’re here and it’s my fault.’

Elrond tilted his head, still radiating that flow of calm and relieved beyond words that this was working. 

‘predicaments so unfortunate and tangled as this are hardly ever any one person’s fault, let alone someone so small as you. And in any case I am certain you did not intend to cause harm. And a second I promise: I will not let anyone hurt your brother. Neither will I let anyone hurt you. No matter how angry they might be.’ 

Finley couldn’t say why he believed him, but he did. He was just one of those people who made you feel safe. Finley was scared to look up, because he wanted so badly for him to be real, but was so scared he wasn’t. 

It took a few minutes to muster up the courage to lift his head and open his eyes. 

There, sitting on the floor, was Elrond.

He was warm like summer and had a presence so much bigger than Finley’s dad, but so much kinder. 

--

anyway, that's the gist! I know that's quite bit more than a "line or two" but this will likely never go up anywhere, since we don't plan on finishing it. It's a fun idea, but we wound up doing a similar thing with the same characters a little to the left, and we like that better.

[designidraws]

Sam and Max characters’ hygiene ranked from best to worst:

Sybil Pandemik: She is a career-woman and knows what she is doing. Sybil cares about her appearance and how she is perceived, she is the most likely to give a shit about her hygiene.

Myra Stump: She is a talk-show host on TV and has a large audience. She definitely cares a lot about her hygiene since she acts like a bossy mom.

Santa Claus or the elves: Smells like holiday cheer, one of the best scents.

Momma Bosco: Self-explanatory, she probably smells of 60’s perfume and definitely takes good care of her hygiene.

Agent Superball: He probably smells like a really good cologne and he takes himself extremely seriously.

Grandma Ruth: Ruth probably has that grandma perfume smell that is just extremely nostalgic. She definitely cares about her BO.

The Narrator: He is British and very sophisticated, he takes good care of “himself”.

Jurgen: He is very attention-seeking and cares how other people perceive him. He definitely collects the latest and most popular perfume.

Conroy Bumpus: Sure, he may be involved in animal cruelty, but he seems to care a lot about his appearance. He has a toupee on display with high-security soooooo…. he cares a lot.

The Director: She is a director known for being prestigious about acting and probably takes good care of her hygiene.

Darla "The Geek" Gugenheek: She definitely showers regularly.

Sam/Sameth: Sam definitely cares about his hygiene for the most part. He acts like a dad and probably smells like one and cares about how he is perceived.

Lee-Harvey: He is a henchman for Conroy Bumpus and looks well-kept.

Anyone in the toy mafia: These guys probably smell ok.

Satan: Weirdly I think Satan in this series probably smells alright. He always cares about whether his bald-spot is showing on camera during the interview in *The City That Dares Not Sleep*.

T.H.E.M.: They smell average.

Abraham Lincoln: Smells like stone? (Whatever that means)

The C.O.P.S.: The smell of machinery.

Roscoe Bosco: He probably smells average, maybe a little sweaty some days.

Sal: He is a cockroach but seems relatively well-kept.

Flint Paper: He probably showers, but cares more about cases rather than personal hygiene.

Lorne (the friend for life): He doesn’t shower as much as he should.

Mr. Featherly: He is a chicken, but he does seem to care about how he is seen and is very much an attention-seeker.

Sammun-Mak: He smells like dirt but like in a good way, like the nostalgic kind of way.

Trixie: Ehhh she smells well… like a giraffe with a layer of perfume overtop

Max/Maximus: We all know he is covered in so many germs, but Sam definitely tries to get him showered every once in a while.

Hubert Q. Tourist: He is a strange, strange fellow. I don’t know what it is about him, but he makes me uncomfortable and he probably doesn’t smell all that well.

Hugh Bliss: Bacteria

Bessie: She’s a cow…

General Skun-ka’pe or his minions: All I need to say is gorilla.

Bruno: He is a bigfoot, need anymore explaining?

Brady Culture: I don’t think I can explain why, but I think he just doesn’t smell good at all.

Anton Papierwaite: HE IS FRENCH! (Also his *secret* makes him smell worse probably)

Girl Stinky: She smells like really bad, but tries to haphazardly spray perfume to cover it up.

Charlie Ho-Tep: People don’t have the decency to wash their hands before playing with him.

Any sea creatures: I absolutely despise the smell of fish…

Any of the baby characters: Babies can smell really bad…

Jurgen’s Monster: He is basically Frankenstein’s Monster, so he probably doesn’t smell good.

The zombies: They are undead and *god* do the dead smell gross.

Eldritch horrors of any kind: They don’t smell very good.

Molemen or the Rats: These guys smell like shit and probably don’t care about showering. They live in the sewers.

Grandpa Stinky: It’s in the name, he smells absolutely rancid. He probably hasn’t showered in decades.

The Soda Poppers: THEY SMELL REALLY FUCKING BAD

[whatsaboomlakalaka]

🌿how does creating make you feel?

💎why is writing important to you?

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

🌿how does creating make you feel?

i answered this one in words already so have some emojis: ✨🥰🙌🤗🫶🎉

💎why is writing important to you?

creative release outside of my day job is VERY important to me and writing and d&d are my favourite types!!

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

ria ty for letting me gush about my current wip. let's talk about the bridgerchuks. under the read more bc l o l

✨ fic writer asks meme ✨

ok so i mentioned in a previous reply that i'm writing a fic where matthew tkachuk is the eldest of eight so like.... here's a list of all my tkachuks, in age order, including all the ocs bc i love them:

Matthew - my son, not much different to canon but turn that Big Brother Energy up another, oh, 5 notches

Braeden (Brady) - brady also isn't much different, really, i'm not here to change too much up

Aisling (Ash) - here the changes start!! ash is two years younger than brady and was born the summer the family moved to st louis. she's loud and sure of herself and athletic to an extent but not into team sports - she goes to school in california and likes to surf and she's going to be a lawyer

Olena (Lena) - lena came two years later - the summer keith ended up reporting to training camp overweight which like. good reason. so many kids buddy. she's the quiet tkachuk. she likes her alone time more than any of the others and she will carve it out for herself, but she still loves them all fiercely even if she wishes they'd shut the fuck up. she watches everything so she knows a lot about hockey even though she never plays (and eventually will become a hockey scout bc of this)

Ciaran - Twin #1 - ciaran did the thing all the other boys did and went "hockey? ok!" but he did it different and went "shouldn't one of us play d though?" so he's a defenceman. i realised during the draft this year it would have been his year to get drafted to based the team he plays for off the teams who took d men in the higher pick so ya boy's a hab! and excited about it! he loves attention, and did theatre in high school (which is where he met his long term girlfriend who will follow him to montreal after college) and he's passionate and not afraid to speak his mind and stand up for minorities

Madison (Maddie) - Twin #2 - maddie saw her twin playing hockey and went "me too!" and then saw him switch to d and went "erm, no?". matthew and brady will be the first to tell you she's got the best slapshot in the family. she's playing collegiate but we'll see what happens with all the pwhl stuff before i decide what happens with her.

worth noting kieth had a vasectomy after the twins which, erm, did not stick. sorry buddy.

Oleksander (Xander) - xander was a suprise and i realised after building the spreadsheet (of course there's a spreadsheet) that his conception would have been when keith got home after being a playoff rental to the trashers LOL. he plays hockey as a kid bc he feels like he has to, and he's so nervous to admit he doesn't want to but everyone's like.. literally do what you want. why would you play professionally if you don't enjoy it!! so he's gonna go to college and do something DIFFERENT and be so much happier for it

Taryn - taryn is still taryn!! just much younger!! she is born in 2009, so keith's last playing year as he retired post 09-10 season. she's still the baby, still perfect in everyone's eyes. still highly competitive and will go into field hockey.

i went OFF and i'm not even sorry but i love them its nice to release them into the world a little after so long of them living in mine and @puckthisshift's head lol

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Which of the guys will get along best with Jean?

Ok so you know what the gut punch ti this is? It woulda been Curt.

But anywayssss, seeing as how Curt went to go be a sexy lil Angel, we must not content ourselves with the present. I’m gonna have so much fun writing these guys with her -I hope I can do it half justice to what I have in my head.

I think Douglass would be so down to shoot his shot in a very aware way that he’s got no chance but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity of hitting on her/complimenting her work

Speaking of- I feel like Everett Blakely probably has a very brief but interesting conversation with her, probably about the industry in special effects or some thing entirely unlike what most people ask her about.

Gale gets along with her, appreciates her, is relieved by what a sweetheart she actually is, but he’s also a little preoccupied with Marjorie

Rosenthal think she’s great, can’t believe he’s getting to dance with her, but he also has enough smarts to think she’s pure trouble and leave it at one dance wishing Egan the best 

Hambone wants her advice on nylons for Gerry

Brady can barely make eye contact he’s too haunted by memories of hauling Bucky over to her picture in the Stalag and dipping to new morale lows by giving him outlandish and eventually downright crass pep talks, he didn’t take into account at that desperate time she was someone daughter and he might be called upon to shake her hand.

Tbh ive I no idea what Benny Demarco would do, probably be very happy she immediately asks to meet his son Meatball

Croz sips champagne off her tits, side by side with Egan, on the first night. Jean Crosby keeps a blurry picture of it she got from Ev in the liquor cabinet:

[bisluthq]

What is wrong with Joe wanting to establish a name on his own? Women used to do that for decades, women with careers tried to do that for decades, not to be known as someone’s wife only. Joe was deliberately humiliated in person by one interviewer who asked if he really worked hard on her albums to which he adamantly replied yes. If it was me, I would have walked out of the interview. Yet when the tables are turned and the woman is the big breadwinner, we turn on her husband/partner. Hypocrites.

no one is turning on anyone. IMO Joe handled things as best he could in terms of the public stuff (how he was at home, in terms of being distant and inattentive at the end is on him and him apparently being fairly cowardly in ending it is assholeish but also relatable - he was wrong but relatable). It also wasn’t wrong for Tom Brady to prefer to be known for his career and not for Gisele and to likely not laugh if the world was saying she had made him famous. But it’s super dope for Taylor that she’s with someone who is silly enough and secure enough and whose masculinity isn’t fragile enough for there to not be any joke we’ve seen so far - and ergo I struggle to imagine such a joke - that he wouldn’t at most say “ok that one doesn’t land for me personally but whatever”. This man is unroastable.

If Travis asked Taylor not to come to games and meet him at the after parties - or even just to chill a bit during the games - he wouldn’t be unreasonable. If Travis didn’t go on an SNL skit making fun of his dating life, that’d make sense. If Travis banned Taylor talk on his podcast and interviews, I’d understand.

he doesn’t feel he has to do that, while also not over spilling or ever being rude in any way. He’s always complimentary and kind and positive but also doesn’t give a shit what people are saying. That’s fucking awesome for her.

We can be happy for her now while understanding where Joe was coming from (and know he spent yeaaars with her so clearly he did a lot right, as did she, and in the end it just wasn’t meant to be). Taylor might get over this level of publicity in a month btw lol but for now she’s digging it and so is Travis and Joe is defs not at home wishing he were doing SNL skits about his personal life and Matty is banging some Insta model (but he did lose a lot of money recently so maybe he’s sad about that idk) and everyone is all good.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

deh in the broader Genre of like telling the tale of a (probably teen) child & a difficult/strained relationship with their parent/s where the conclusion to the overarching thread there is tied to the feelings of the parent/s, with the child's sense of emotional resolution hinging on some newfound understanding/recognition/appreciation of those Feelings Of The Parent/s, namely that they Do genuinely love the kid / Care, Regardless of the otherwise "seeming" insufficiency of the provided emotional support of the child, oft justified in full as well by broad things like [doing their best] and [could've been worse / at least not as bad as i had it]. wherein the conflict is resolved probably not totally unilaterally, but mostly by the child realizing their feelings were wrong and/or at least setting them aside by virtue of recognizing how the parent/s felt all along.

like ofc larry in particular, who does Feel Sad that his son died, and other people getting to realize this helps effectively temporarily resolve the murphy family dynamic problems over intermission, and then we come back and larry tells evan he still feels justified in everything he was doing re connor, who died, and evan says that connor (reminder: who died) was really lucky to have a dad who Cares So Much About taking care of Stuff. larry also singing about how Everyone Else thinks & does things wrong for not aligning/agreeing with him on Stuff. and also of course, that doing the right thing is Hard for him. and in the end, words fail, larry hasn't actually changed re: for example never listening to his wife, whose feelings are Not inherently justified like his and who is i guess just not committing to The Hard & Right Thing for not feeling like she has the answers / knows what to buckle down on and never let up about no matter what anyone else thinks, including like, the people directly affected by what you're doing. throw in all the other classic moments like insisting connor simply dropped the ball himself, Somebody Had To Be The Bad Guy, that his daughter be shopping for also not wanting to be monologued at about larry's baseball lore in a garage. ok

but things are fine in the end through the implication that the murphys are staying as married as ever? like, no lmao. we've never seen a single instance of larry showing basic respect for his wife as a peer (tempering addendum: i'm sure this is a slight exaggeration & larry is at least being neutral enough at various times lol. but like at the least disagreement b/w them, she's dealing w/a brick wall). and was zoe being unsarcastic by positing the brady bunch as some hypothetical family dynamic ideal? she's had a hard year but she's fine and mostly what we know about her life is that fact of her parents being undivorced, like, is it assumed that We'd assume she's more bummed out if she was Dealing with that too, rather than relieved/happier. in every case of divorce were the children apparently completely insulated from their parents' dynamic & its effect on their behavior. in the case of every marriage held on to for dear life no matter what For The Children / b/c for w/e other reasons divorce is off the table, are the kids just clapping & cheering regardless of everything else like huzzah to have both my mother & father living together, legally wed. tbt like third or fourth grade & for seom reason, maybe book related, a teacher asking the class who had divorced parents, and saying it was good there was only one person who had to Go Through That. seems inappropriate lol and also inaccurate, having to note that down at the time as an informed adult / child of divorced parents opinion, while actually having a [tragically "divorce is off the table / marriage for the children" situation] unfolding & having to understand things entirely through the lens of how in fact, parents know best / are trustworthy b/c they care, kids just don't get it and are only mad about being grounded and stuff, and mistreatment is an outlier noticeable to all and characterized by nonstop cartoonish contempt blatantly expressed, physical violence/neglect, the classics. but if a parent does something like disallow boundaries / privacy, well someone Had to, and it ranges somewhere from "well that's just appropriate disciplinary measures [cite the usual "it could've been worse" and/or "well sorree that parents aren't always perfect" and/or just general sentiments abt if you don't do xyz kids will never learn that they have to abide by your authority at any time regardless of what's going on for them as their own person]" to, well, also what i just put in brackets like "sometimes you make lil mistakes but did your best, sorry i wasn't perfect, the kid i was raising & mistreating was less perfect though sooo."

heidi is naturally more actually sympathetic but she's also on basically a [her own feelings] journey by and large, even while again it's not totally unilateral? like, there's the misalignments in between, but she and evan were always the one conversation away from their resolution (of not wanting to mutually disown each other). she realizes evan was unhappy at the start, then gets upset about his apparent increasing distance, then realizes he was more unhappy than she realized....? like, okay i guess. (""shoutout"" to cynthia noting that larry dismissed connor being suicidal as essentially Not Actually That. like evidently heidi is clearing that bar, but just throwing another tomato at whatever all larry's up to.) and in good for you, it's like. yes heidi is blindsided by things and none of this is to say that real parents, or parents as characters, should have Irrelevant feelings, or not make mistakes b/c of them, but it's sure A Time wherein she expresses Some Things like, all presumably motivated by her feeling that evan is effectively rejecting/disowning/leaving her, that he shouldn't get help from other people, and even if they're not strangers, they can't be Real Family? and like, certainly evan is just experiencing a bit of [it's free real estate] standing in for A Son here rather than this being some [found family trope] moment with a more genuine foundation, on top of the whole false pretenses thing, but heidi doesn't know any of this and is falling back on like, it's inherently unacceptable b/c they're not Real family, she is [his Real] mother, an emphatic argument Checkmate surely. and here & along the way she's cited the "i'm trying (my best)" / Sorry I'm Not Perfect matters, while being able to criticize evan about ways he's failed to do [xyz] regardless of whether he was trying (his best), generally regarding the anxiety matters like, he Needs to be able to order a pizza, and make friends, and do the therapy exercises that aren't helping, etc. unsurprising evan feels like she thinks he needs to be fixed, he's also Not Wrong that it's not his fault if he's getting support from outside The Family, i.e. his mom and being in their house. interesting that heidi presumed evan was always staying over at the kleinmans' more and was at least more okay with that, with a difference of course being that she knows them already / is(?) friends with jared's mom.

naturally a sidenote right there in the fact that jared doesn't want to / in effect can't tell his parents anything that's true. while on the one hand he doesn't seem too concerned about never breaking rules in any situation, there's also no sense he's like got this whole secret life going on / anything to Particularly hide from his parents, and having no friends doesn't help re: just his getting up to much in general. that we get no resolution for him, and the resolution for evan and zoe apparently involving the former having reconciled w/his mom and the latter just doing okay for the fact her parents are further from divorce, like, are we going to presume as we're often meant to, re: this Overall Genre, that well jared's parents probably care / are trying their best / are there & married, so ultimately He's Fine for that fact alone, aren't we all? seems a significant assumption in this story's conclusion. never heard about alana's parents at all, but i guess if jared was reeeeallyyy unhappy at home or alana was an orphan also, we'd've heard about it. in this story of everyone being completely forthcoming with each other the whole way through

anyways then heidi shifts into "oh nvm" reconciliation mode after gfy via facebook letter posts and having realized evan was That sad at the start of things? like, again that it's not completely unilateral, as is more usual, and she Is affected by understanding more about how He feels, but also like, we know she knows he had a bad year and is currently still generally unhappy / lonely, and herself knows she can't be there for him all the time / as often as she feels she'd like, but like, she had to know he was even sadder / more struggling than that? and that their strained / unideal relationship was just....more so as well? doesn't super feel like a more fundamental revelation about what's Really going on, versus just like "oh you've been Really [those things i was already aware of]" like, the change just being in the Degree of these situations/factors. i suppose a more inherent shift could be that she was thinking of it all in terms of evan's judgment of her and this conversation is showing her he was worried about her judgment of him? just this one conversation away from resolution the whole time....as well as anything being framed as like, a Two Way Street as the best answer to things rather than actually anything being shifted towards the child, like, unconditional support towards them, supposing there's some mutual grievances & hurt feelings, it's Not just [well i'm sympathetic Enough] for a parent to go "my support's a bit conditional tho" rather than in fact having to set their feelings aside more than their child might. shoutout again to larry at breakfast like "of course i openly don't give a shit b/c i'm assessing that connor doesn't either and that's some real fair's fair stuff"

anyways like, ofc already heidi was Never going to disown & leave evan, who ofc doesn't want to disown & leave her either (& even more Of Course doesn't have that option w/the murphys at that point anyways). and like, yeah surely important that they both know that but like, nothing else particularly changes? or is somehow guaranteed to change for their now having this newly informed mutual understanding on how each other has Felt all along. like, guess evan won't be so distant now that he knows his mom doesn't hate him, that's a difference yeah, but again he also Couldn't be b/c [my bad re: the murphys] [fell out w/his one friend and i guess is even More like "well, can't talk to him ever again / that's that" b/c not like we hear in the finale about having had, or planning to have, a chat w/him too]. sure It Matters that evan know his mom wouldn't hate him for xyz, or that heidi knows evan doesn't already hate her or something, and resolving this surely makes a difference, and it's not like this mutual Emotional Component is irrelevant. but it's oft handled as All that's relevant, and definitively tilted in favor of the parent's(s') feelings justifying / negating the child's(ren's) feelings as an impact of their treatment by the parent/s. is heidi going to have a different approach than going "ugh cmon evan" when he's not doing what he "has" to in whatever various situations, besides perhaps reminding him she won't Hate & Leave him if he can't, just still be disappointed & critical & hoping for him to become Can do it....we've all been there re: "i love you / will support* (*how?) you No Matter What.....But....." unless you haven't been there, at least in terms of this only being meaningful to the person saying it & is merely a Hypothetical intro that automatically justifies whatever Actual treatment is about to unfold, in which case hell yeah

the other key thing that happens here i suppose being heidi using her parental experiences to let evan know it feels overwhelming now, but later, it won't. fun re: her character, simultaneously like, well it's true and useful that how you feel on any given day / in any given moment is never permanent, helpful perhaps re weathering negative ones / appreciating positive ones, on the other hand the sentiment can also be applied dismissively like "well you'll get over it" especially re: children / teens, like "oh prom or being bullied or whatever else won't matter to you in ten years so whatever" (also that Feelings Changing Always obviously doesn't mean people are like, psychically made anew in every moment, and unaffected by things that happened prior, even during childhood / adolescence, like oh cringe weirdos still affected by how their parent/s treated them or how they were treated by their peers or how their affected by these kinds of things Now) or that pretty much anything they feel is immature & thus effectively incorrect and irrelevant, b/c the only Real Feelings in this life are [i have to pay a bill :(] or [i have to parent a child :( / :) (?)] like. any sentiment / idea can be cited in any situation, citing it for the purposes of "so it doesn't really matter how i treat you / how i Don't bother to do fuckall for you" as it may to dismiss [my child's upset rn] or something, is not helpful. but for our purposes heidi doesn't seem to be being dismissive, And ofc due to the specific situation there's not really anything she or evan can do to otherwise improve it rn (i mean, he could potentially also talk to jared again or consider it at least, but.) but the conclusion being that Your Parent Doesn't Hate You & Won't Leave / Will Always Be Here For You, Which Means: Step one: Being Here always; Step Two: [???] is certainly thusly unspecific, not exactly revelatory, and like....Thee Whole Time heidi was not hating evan & was planning on being there always, but that alone didn't mean there weren't these major failures to communicate / understand him / conflicts. well and good to i guess keep sitting on the couch like "remember: i don't hate you & won't disown you & leave" but that's like, certainly a premise of the relationship rather than [a particular way that fact manifests in her supporting / interacting successfully with him]. like her saying she Has, Does, And Will fuck up ten zillion ways (real lyric. jk) is like, again, Yes, parents are people which mean having feelings and making mistakes, and it's presumably important to her re: Not feeling so overwhelmed by parenthood that she recognizes this, but it's also like....yeah but then what, what happens when you make the mistakes re: Being A Parent. she wasn't ever going to leave or hate evan, that's irrelevant. again: how will their avg dynamic such as we've seen it, resulting in [failed connection] across the scenes, change re: the day to day for evan now knowing heidi's not planning to ditch him.

referring back to this as a general genre, it's this sort of point in an exploration of a parent/child relationship being A Limit as well, like, welp, where can you even take things beyond "aw hey. remember that your parent really cares & is trying" lol like. and there's the fact that this point as [the resolution] will probably make the child simply Less "Difficult" / "Wayward" in their teen behavior as well. like yes heidi's sympathetic, her feelings are relevant as a character and a parent to another character, yes also to a degree evan Is being somewhat "difficult" and distant and lashing out / verbally critical at times, but ofc Also a) not for no reason, and b) those reasons being His feelings about things / being Imperfect with it, but that herein more sympathy lies with the parent for those same facts / the resolution must be that the parent was already ultimately Enough re: their support, regardless of acknowledged imperfection. larrycore, except he also won't acknowledge imperfection lol.

and then, naturally, cynthia's the entire other parent character, but she just has like, less going on? she's mostly interacting with [the concept of connor] and evan doesn't like get a glove scene with her or anything and i guess her satisfaction with life manifests in how Normal her family dinners are, cough (made it all this way w/o yet citing Normalcy lol (i think). but it is intrinsically relevant throughout) and she's happy with larry so long as he's been outwardly sad about connor. and that according to zoe she was Too Lenient (convenient as well re: us getting to imagine for ourselves what the supposed perfect middle ground would be) which like, seems particularly relevant To zoe if she was apparently nonzero times tormented by connor's goings on with no recourse. but the overall situation staying very Vague, though with enough impression that cynthia a) is sad that connor died and b) doesn't blame him about it / wasn't dismissive of everything and c) her approach involved pursuing anything fundamentally supportive rather than, say, deciding someone can't have basic privacy and you just keep at that until they're a flexible piece of athletic equipment, so she wins out over larry for sure, don't really have to just throw up our hands like well i guess they're both wrong and the answer is generally somewhere between their general approaches. and other than that it's like, what, she wouldn't be having continual identity crises if her family was more brady bunchesque? there's zoe's vague suggestion that being stuck in the house (b/c if she doesn't Have to work, how could she leave) is also a factor in her identity crisis moments that are manifesting in ruining the Family Dinner experience and evan is lucky to mistakenly think he has problems not having much money. but then she's also just like, fine enough by act two, and again in the finale wherein i guess she's still fine enough for the fact of still being married. noted that cynthia is also the most forthcoming / straightforwardly emotionally expressive character here (ft. larry telling her to calm down jeez cynthia our cringe son only died or whatever or we're now being cyberharassed while everyone hates us for that, chill, so hysterical. women be shopping)

oh wait cynthia and evan do have that bit of a one on one prior to ywbf. definitely something, even if ofc cynthia doesn't get a whole song in that scene, and she and evan have less of a direct exchange in it. and naturally she gets the first song but it's like, where's, idk, heidi and cynthia having a later parallel payoff interaction Parent To Parent about not knowing how the hell to do this. didn't Have to be setup thusly but eh, society if. god knows cynthia talking to larry is a dead end, and talking to evan is limited, him not being a parent also. it's kind of like you can get support / understanding / validation from peers / Outside of [your lifelong nuclear family setting up romantic partnership], but this romantic partnership is the only Peers relationship of evan's that he Needs resolution on. though tbf the Real mystifying aspect of this in the finale is why zoe wanted to / why what she was apparently getting from their relationship all along was such that she now feels like he's this theoretical romantic ideal, rather than it being possible that she needn't regret the relationship for what she could've been getting out of it at the time but also doesn't need to now wish she could do it all over again, without the premises that led to them even dating in the first place. dunno why in either love song led by either of them, evan can't cite a Reason he likes zoe, while zoe textually declines to cite a reason she likes him. if you're Not relating to "if he was a boy & she was a girl & they not only don't hate each other but could share the same house with awkward tense amicability / lack of absolutely blowing up at each other all the time....why Shouldn't you assume you might be in love and start dating your way towards ideal eternal soulmateship" then it's like, kinda at a loss out here. ofc evan can be relieved she doesn't hate him forever and zoe can feel she doesn't hate him forever and have the generosity to pat him on the back abt stuff and the orchard, but their already baffling relationship is only way more so when for some reason zoe has to definitively tell evan he's still this theoretical romantic ideal like....we can still interpret it as, idk, zoe having low standards / limited experience at this juncture tbh lol but even so, regardless of this, there's the fact that this Romance being established as centrally crucial in the very beginning and end (and ofc in between) is The Story / Work Overall considering it centrally crucial and it's like ummm. holding this and looking at it like okay..........what is this

one explanation being "well we don't need an explanation. soulmate romance Is supposed to fix and/or justify your whole life and the more isolating it is the more its proven how much Love their is / how that's all you need" and ofc high schoolers would want that asap so long as the other party seems nice enough. whoops compare and contrast with how when we check in with evan in the finale he's also Been doing okay enough and the sole relationship we even know of is that with his mom, and hey, if that's all he has then that just shows that that love of a parent is enough / all one needs. which is the limit here, and the limit of The Genre, like, hmm, families aren't ever perfect and can have these major issues and failures huh: the critical examination/exploration of this then not getting more specific than "but in the end that's who's always there for you, which is heartwarming in and of itself rather than its own problem b/c when people Don't get actual support there for any reason/s, there's nothing else for them, except perhaps support via marriage / romance" where the problems also can be considered utterly unavoidable in a [throw up your hands, can't even begin to speculate on alternatives w/any meaningful specificity] way, and justified as like, kids who just need to be more appreciative / understanding of their parents, and parents who should be appreciated / understood as simply human, which means they're not perfect and they have feelings, but Everyone is simply human with emotions and mistakes, but then the fact in & of itself of Some people's imperfection & emotions gets to invalidate Other people's imperfections (see: however the Former People reacts to the Latter People's mistakes is fine) and their emotions (see: however the Latter People react to how they're affected by anything the Former People do is not fine, so long as the former people feel that their own feelings were sympathetic and/or that they merely made a mistake / can't be expected to be perfect, ugh well sorrreeee) which happens in the direction of Who Already Has The Power / Authority: that being The Parents, vs. children having zero leverage or other options than the immediate family & "ideally" (suburban single family home) isolated, or at least bounded off, living situation they just so happened to be born with. and parents, themselves isolated like "if you don't love your spouse enough that you aren't perfectly happy from just living w/them forever and you'd throw everyone else in your life into a volcano for them & still be perfectly happy, that's just your failure to find a soulmate ig b/c otherwise At Least being able to go 'yeah it's not perfect but it's good enough. & what else is there. also i can't afford to live without splitting 8 jobs w/a partner' is within your grasp" and isolated as parents like, you know what they say, it takes a two parent household to raise a child, if you're obviously overwhelmed like e.g. dealing with a newborn, haha well it's the damnedest thing but that's just how it is and anyone struggling w/parenting alone or even as only two people is experiencing that [just how it is]ness, nothing else to be done, unless legal custody is revoked to punish the parents. if the children are punished then that's just family business, they're the ones who also have no choice in entering a family via entering existence, belong to their parents, oft aren't considered to need / deserve basic elements of personhood, cue connor losing his Basic Privacy b/c someone Had to and whatever.

anyways, Thee Genre where "welp, this is just how it is" can only be preserved like this, like, well, guess this Has to resolve where of course a child is stuck w/their parent no matter what, right, so in turn the child must just ultimately feel okay with whatever's up with their parent/s as Fine Enough, while parents care enough to not want to renounce their claim of this being their child, but really nothing Must be conceded by the parent in terms of behavior, the Family Unit ultimately cannot be denied in any way such that the child really ever has any recourse but to try to accept the parent/s Being Only Human as justification for it all, and more, and/or the potential sort of theoretical threat of ideas like "be glad you had Anyone in the first place / don't have Worse parent/s / aren't Disowned, b/c think of how much worse you'd have it on your own," which yknow spoilers, threats aren't really support, nor are the effects of any failures in support / outright mistreatment Justified by the inner world of the party responsible for it being declared / judged as Good Enough, or certainly as good as you deserve.

anyways obviously it's not a nightmare in deh (at least for evan, lbr. larry....) and in the story it Is posited as enough b/c it's a fictional construction that can say whatever, and or let plenty be unspoken, like skirting around why exactly zoe's supposed to be regarding evan in any which way that she does at any point after iicth, tbh. but this is really a subset of "deh arguably has this premise that The Pursuit Of Normalcy is correct re: amending the kinds of problems evan has here; normalcy is the nuclear family as an ideal, whether Your Parents (as close to two married suburbanite ones as you can get) or You As A Parent (same as prior parenthetical)" wherein that subset genre is another one that must ultimately accept Normalcy as well, where parents have this irrevocable authority in their children's lives, and an exploration of a strained / messy family dynamic at any age can only resolve with "well in the end, parents aren't perfect but they try & care, and their kids have to accept this as ultimate justification for any & all of their experiences they have grievance with. fill in any blanks with [throw up your hands / whaddaya gonna do / c'est la damnedest things]" like. again that jared is only worse off for [the plot] and we have no update on him and we know he has no friends now (evan too, presumably) and only his parents he doesn't talk to. and we can presume this is good enough only by a) dismissing whatever feelings he has to make him not want to share anything w/said parents as Surely frivolous/unfounded and/or b) operating on that premise that, well, he has parents, and they're only human, so that is automatically All You Need To Know (with a little bonus of (c) that any Real Abuse must be so extraordinary that it's this rare outlier and what are the odds? rather than a common experience that's this guaranteed option when parents own a kid and the kid has no choice but to accept this situation / no other support. And, as with all "unusual" Abnormal things, all normal people would be able to diagnose someone with Abused or Disabled or Trans, Closeted Or Otherwise based on fleeting interactions and Not on someone declaring their own understanding of their experiences, which is actually probably wrong / an exaggeration/lie....But also if anyone experienced something abnormal like that, they'd know right off and be talking about it all the time to get help resolving their situation; if people have the idea it's a secret, that people don't just Believe Them, and/or that people Can't just help them up and resolve their situation wholly and safely and soon enough, that proves it's not real or at least not That big a deal, who cares if you have some gender thoughts or ""mild" autism" or kinda shitty parents, if it's relatable just deal with it, if it's not, you're just being weird and try being more normal, which is also supposedly just dealing with it, but all the more dismissively / emphatically) like iunno jared would Have to tell us more explicitly that his parents are terrible, and then we could just disbelieve him, or figure he deserves it, or that he's just mad about being grounded once or whatever. there's two of them, probably married, and they have feelings and are imperfect, so he's fine.

also the fact that any relationship with peers, besides looking for your romantic soulmate asap, is frivolous and optional. coincidentally (is it??? jk. it's not) it's a form of support outside the nuclear family you were born into / establishing your own nuclear family. friendships are about the chats you can squeeze in with coworkers you happen to tolerably get along with, or prior, same but with other students, and if they're not Perfectly Working Out At The Start And Forever (see, in fact: evan's illustration of the perfect friendship in For Forever, wherein he needn't even explain like, how they became friends, or how it was so different from any other dynamics. or explain to us the audience how he and jared threw together this material that emulates it via this roleplaying sesh, but that doesn't warrant eventual resolution) then a friendship does not deserve either "well they're only human, so i guess i have to accept Whatever" like re: parents, nor "i Need to put effort and intent into an active pursuit/continual maintenance of this relationship" of the [it validates your life so you need it, as well as it being the only appropriate/expected support in a legal adult's life, move out with your spouse already] Romance. that alana, though her motivation and sort of silver lining reward in the end (re: the orchard) isn't all about evan, also gets no resolution and was sure not evan's parent nor love interest, so Well Whaddaya Expect....again, if she was a tragic orphan, she'd've announced as much, and if she has parents, they're human and she's Fine Enough

anyways you can perhaps critically explore/examine these experiences beyond these not explicitly, directly expressed premises that in the end the parental feelings override the the child's and justify the reality that the child has no recourse anyways when their nuclear family is all they have and the familial Belonging can be [the children are parental property], wouldn't it be great if that was always okay enough anyways, b/c that's all we can get, and considering otherwise is weird and probably an unrelatable outlier anyways. so The Conclusion to stories abt parent/child relationship problems can't/don't upend the premise that a child can be stuck with their parent/s as people who forever unconditionally retain some ability to actively impact that child in whatever ways, and even if this is questioned, it has to be resolved with the child accepting this Reality w/whatever justifications that supposedly validate the parent enough / even just being like well it's better than the alternative of Not having your "support," surely, b/c that was even unhappier. the child can feel badly about whatever treatment, even treatment they don't think had any ill intent, but the parental authority is A Fact and ya just gotta make peace with it, whether the parent only personally justifies it with "b/c i'm the parent" or "i mean well enough / sorry i'm not perfect"

this versus material where the parent actually does have to change their behavior regardless of their feelings, in recognition of An Actual Relationship rather than eternal justification of the parent = superior / authority figure. or where, as is true re: any actual relationship, a child does get to withdraw from said relationship (as is true even if the child is still in the parent's life / the parent thinks there's A Relationship b/c of the child still being in their life and their feeling they totally have adequate authority here) and like, frankly points to how that often seems to work best when the viewer isn't privy to seeing said child's experiences / interactions w/the parent/s directly. Just Like Real Life, a) can't really convey the reality of such a dynamic via "wow look how Obviously bad it is" snippets, even such [obviously bad] moments can be Dismissed as snippets like well but on Average it's not That Bad(tm), and this leads into b) the premise when we Don't get to be shown the interactions directly being: what we Do get shown being the child's perspective / feelings and That actually getting to be what matters and can in turn justify their being supported regardless of if the parent tries / cares at all / means well / makes mistakes etc etc, and any illustrations from the parent's end of things being secondary really, while things lean such that the child's feelings have more weight and what is Justified by said feelings isn't [anything they do to anyone ever] but actually having other avenues of support than w/e parents they happened to have. and whether things were Really That Bad don't have to be judged by other people who can't have the full picture or direct experience or be Better at understanding the situation for having had more "normal" experiences, and who aren't them and why should someone be judged thusly like "oh sorry it's Not That Bad" and then, again, have no recourse like, can't go anywhere else, and if you can, there's zero guaranteed support Unless it's via whatever particular personal relationships you happen to have, which is why it's great that isolation isn't basically a guaranteed feature of abuse, and that [social support can only come from Personal Relationships] doesn't foster isolation / insecurity / vulnerability overall. this was politics all along, what isn't?

anyways, these like "hmm....social phenomena...." approaches that are limited by unquestioned concepts of Normalcy that the audience must understand similarly too; including this genre here of the Inevitable Reconciliation b/w parent and child justified by the parent having feelings, and the child's feelings being dismissable. kinda the case in deh that said feelings just needed to be aired so as to be understood, and then things are fine enough indefinitely now. arguably Having A Talk is a change in behavior/the dynamic, but also it comes about via a wild specific convoluted series of events and still only manifests last minute b/c heidi saw a facebook post and evan's at the end of his rope here lol. and he has no friends and the nebulous potential of [i'm still theoretical soulmate material for another the perfect girl. someday] and a customer service job??????? godspeed. and the idea of other people and we're out babeyyyy

[bropunzeling]

thinking deeply about brady being a little earnest about ballet!quinn. knows the names of all of the moves and french terminology and all of that jazz BUT cannot name it correctly! maybe a reporter asks what he's going to do on his night off in vancouver and brady talks a little bit too much about his best friend who's a principal dancer and the ballet he's going to watch and how quinn made principal and the reporter is like. sir this is an interview for the nhl ? not sure how that's going to land but like obviously brady drags a bunch of guys to quinn's preformance and is eunthusiastic about it the whole time. captain privillege. timmy really wanted to hit a bar but now he's sitting front row obviously. OBVIOUSLY

ok i'm not going to share any more snippets because i really! truly!!! have not written very much, but like. you get it, anon. that is EXACTLY the vibe. brady is gonna bring up his best friend being incredible to anyone who will listen and he is gonna wax poetic about, like, giselle, and he is gonna go to the one show a year he can manage when they play in vancouver (and maybe sneak off to bc during his bye week). he is gonna do that!

[moregraceful]

9, 11, & 15 for quinn and brady in other-vancouver!

the world can hold quite still aka quinn hughes's big adventure in other vancouver!! under a cut bc i can't shut up ty becs ily

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

oh good question. no! there are many versions in my head about other vancouver (the sedins are elder gods, elias is an elder god but he doesn't know it like a fucked up percy jackson also brock is a plant witch in love with him, alexander edler is the only person who calms troy's ghosts who are slowly killing him, thatcher demko california goalie who hopes vancouver doesn't hate him is the coyote king of vancouver, what was going on with rogers arena.....) that are just straight up urban fantasy but not really any other versions of the quinn/brady story. they were always just a very tender love story that came together very easily in my heart and once i figured it out i didn't really want to explore it from any other angle. (also bc maggie requested a) that verse and b) the nucklings. and the 2019-2020 sens are fully beyond my comprehension lol. there is FOR SURE a brady story but it would require way more research on the ottawa senators than i am currently willing to do hahaha.)

also, unrelated entirely to quinn and brady, someone commented on jack laughing in his sleep, saying "there's a whole other world" in it which i didn't consider while i was writing, but now i'm like, give $5 to boston pride hockey and i will write a spin off of a spin off of jack hughes's interiority and the way his dreams are always happy (and the one time they're not?) and what happens in other new jersey and also how he and quinn are each other's touchstone

(at some point i assume you all will get sick of ambiguous endings and then i'll really be in trouble lol)

11: What do you like best about this fic?

oh man i kinda said this is in my comment response to you but i really liked how easily this one came together once i started. the mattdrai one was very difficult because there was a lot of worldbuilding and a lot of leaps of faith bc it was built on a premise that just is never going to happen, but the qhughes in other vancouver is like...that's a real love story. not in a tinhat way, just in a way where there is very clearly years of love and affection between brady and quinn (in whatever form that takes, not my business what their business is). it's easy to take something that exists and just play with it in an other world. it came together very easily for me bc there's a very real element of care. also bc i am often in the rarepair trenches, it was kinda nice to just poke around at something that is way more tangible and has more documented history than like. well you know the shit i usually write lol

but also this is my favorite part:

Brady jams a stick against his shin, trying to get the puck out from under him. “Stay safe,” he whispers to Quinn. “Please stay safe for me. Please, Quinn. God, I hope this isn’t what it’s like for you. I hope your dreams are never as bad as this one is. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.”

“What?” says Quinn, turning all the way around, knocking Brady off balance through pure adrenalized shock.

Brady kicks the puck out from next to Quinn’s skate. He knocks his visor against Quinn’s. “I love you so much, Quinn,” he says fiercely. “I hope I wake up soon.” He bats the puck away from Quinn and races off down the rink.

brady wants him to stay safe :( brady loves him so much :(

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

THAT I SHOULD NEVER TRY TO WRITE A FIC IN 100 WORD SCENES JFC it was like writing the world's worst twtfic for no reason. on that note, keeping a strict word count for scenes can be very helpful for writing when you're stuck! 100 words was...insane, considering the worldbuilding i wanted to do in this fic, but telling myself, ok, you have 500 words per scene, go, that was actually a really good writing exercise AND helped me get better at nailing down what exactly i wanted to convey in a scene, over just saying whatever. my first draft sucked bc i couldn't wrap any scenes up, like they were just going on and one forever without any real purpose, so i really enjoyed giving myself a strict word count per scene and working under that. i think it made me a better writer and it's also something i've been playing more with in subsequent fics, giving myself strict word count rules.

thank you for asking ily!!!!

[bitethehandthatneedsme]

June June June June do you have Sambrady headcanons or just.. Brady in general.. I cannot find more than like.. idk ten Brady/Sambrady headcanons and I’ve already liked every single one of them on your blog

been waiting 4 this question my whole life….

these r all just fluff hcs bc i want 2 be happy pls🙏🙏

• brady was an extremely physically affectionate person so sam always had an arm around his shoulders and always got a hug goodbye (even b4 they were together)

• brady was an incredible artist. sam was always in awe of his work and one time sam found a drawing of himself in his sketchbook (sometimes hes a little nosy ok!!!!). he never mentioned it to brady but he thought about it a lot

• because sam has, like, the worst self esteem on the planet, when brady tells sam he likes him, sams all “you really mean it???” (bc he doesnt truly believe that anyone could ever like him Like That bc hes ‘tainted’ and ‘wrong’ yk the usually sorry this is supposed to be fluff I’m Sorry pls forgive me😭😭🙏🙏), and bradys “yeah ofc i mean it ur the best thing thats ever happened to me :))))”

• whenever brady got hurt, sam would patch him up and brady would complain bc “im supposed to be the doctor sam wtf😕😕😕😕”

little sambradyluis bonus bc theyre my boys 4LIFE !!!!!

• sam and brady were each others first and only friends for a while!!! but then they met luis and they felt complete :)))).

sorry this is so short i have a headache rn but i wanted to answer as fast as i could i will totally add more to this tho when i can dw!!!!