#but I love finding bigger meaning than what was intended and in terms of the voyeurism of these characters pain vs the audience…

[somanypetals]

The more I see people say “how are we supposed to watch young Natalie now, knowing what happens” the more I feel like that kind of…becomes the whole point for the viewers in a really clever way? Bc from the get-go, part of getting invested in Yellowjackets is you accepting that more than half of these characters are gonna die, and once we know who the surviving adults are it’s hypothetically ~easy~ bc you can just compartmentalise and view the other characters through the lens of “they’re gonna be eaten” and detach yourselves from those characters

But killing one of the core 6 adults off completely shifts the dynamic!! Now we’re gonna be watching Nat in a new, heartbreaking light, which ultimately is how we should have been feeling about all of them this whole time, but we all knew too much

And so now the lines start to blur for the viewer between the “doomed” characters and the ones we thought were safe

And like, yeah…it’s horrifying and miserable and hard to watch, but also…that’s kinda what it’s been like the whole time, and it makes sense that we now have to watch new characters knowing they never escaped the wilderness, bc ultimately even the ones who made it out never escaped the wilderness: it lives in them

[silverskye13]

I am turning EB around in my head like a microwave and I have a couple questions:

What is EB and EX's relationship like? I know they view each other as family and EX gets EB's booth, but will we see how they interact more?

Did anyone wind up telling EB that hels!zedaph is dead? If not, does he have suspicions that he is?

and a more general Hels question (that is totally not related no siree) - what is the upkeep for the remembrance walls like?

EB and EX are on friendly terms! They previously saw each other,,, not as rivals in the traditional sense. They didn't openly attack or oppose each other. But EB viewed EX as a challenge: How do I stay distinct from my brother's shadow? Anyone looking for it would find it obvious. EB got Bigger and Louder whenever EX was around, and he used to be much bigger and much louder than he currently is. It's less that he was mean, and more that he was prideful. Becoming friends with Helsknight changed him for the better in that regard. Since he's mellowed out, he and his brother have become closer. They enjoy visiting with each other during Colosseum matches [EB will often stand with EX in the box and talk both before the events, and during intermission] and EX invites EB to a lot of parties, where they shit talk the guests together. We'll see them together once during RnS, but EB is a secondary character, and outside of the one appearance, I don't intend to have EX very involved in the story. He's kind of the unspoken god of the world: he gets a lot of mentions because he's very important to hels, but he's not very important to the plot lol.

Someone did wind up telling EB about hels!zedaph, though yes, he did suspect before he was told. EB hadn't gone looking for HZ for a reason. He didn't want to be the one to find out he was gone. If I can't see it, maybe its not really there.

And the Remembrance Wall Ramble got long so its under the cut!

[Hello future me cutting in here because I just realized you were probably talking about what individuals like EB would do to upkeep a name of a loved one. Mostly it involves regular visits. Keeping the stone clean, replacing it if it gets cracked, making sure it doesn't wear down. Nether bricks to me are a bit brittle, and the ones on the bottoms of the walls will crumble and break down over time. Most of the time, the Order of Remembrance is pretty good at getting them replaced, though they encourage individuals to do it themselves, to decorate the stones, paint or carve them, and overall keep the care personal. People will also sometimes leave gifts of food, flowers, and favored items at walls where loved ones names are kept. Walls are very colorful spots in hels, full of a lot of care.]

The Remembrance walls are, basically, graveyards. Alongside friends and family, who will make sure loved ones names are put down and remembered, the Order of Remembrance manages all Remembrance Walls in the city. We'll get into it a little in the upcoming chapters, but the Order of Remembrance church, and its knights, have a very active presence in hels. They are the cloaks seen most often roaming the streets, in twos and threes. They have regular routes they walk, with walls they are assigned to tend. They make sure the stones are stacked straight and don't fall, replace broken ones, and help people carve names. Many knights have prayer chants where they intentionally try to memorize every name on the wall. Their focus is on the idea that no helsmet is truly gone as long as some memory remains of them. They welcome helsmets approaching them with fond memories of loved ones, and will take testimony from people who know their time is coming. Their church is a glorified library and house of memorization. Part of their worship in remembrance of people is also in the remembrance of history, and they have at least one copy of every book, memoir, and journal in hels they can get their hands on. They have one private collection in the church, and one public library in hels, which they regularly update with copies of originals from the church library.

The only place outside the Order of Remembrance's domain is the shady side of town where Cleo's gangs keep the peace. For control reasons, Cleo doesn't like any opposing force on her claimed land, which includes Order of Remembrance knights. She does still have Remembrance Walls on her side of town, but they are up-kept by the people that live there as a community project. People get together once every few weeks, make food, talk about those that are gone, and make sure none of the stones are broken or stolen.

Erasing memory is a big taboo in hels, understandably. The universe is already cruel enough in taking people, and people, once taken, are woefully easy to forget [they were never meant to exist in the first place, after all]. On the sides of town where the Order of Remembrance upkeeps the walls, anyone caught stealing or destroying stones is tracked down by their paladins, and subjected to community service under close supervision. They're often roughed up in the process, but the paladins won't kill you for breaking a stone. Depending on whose stone you break, and how angry hels is that day, the same can't be said for anyone else who catches you. Repeat offenders, or people who destroy many stones at once with the express intent of erasing memory, are branded by the Order with a mark somewhere visible, normally on the hands. Anyone with that unlucky brand will see increased hostility from their peers, ostricization, lost of livelihood and home -- it's a great way to make everyone in hels hate you. Anyone on Cleo's side of town caught destroying a stone is hunted actively in the streets, and leaving her side of town will not save them. She offers high bounties for that kind of thing.

[the-badger-mole]

Hallmarks of the Season: Part 4

The next morning, Katara was up early again, to her chagrin. Fortunately it wasn't a school day, so she was the only one awake in her family of early risers. She checked her phone for any missed messages, then she decided to work off some of her excess energy with a morning run.

Katara headed for the downtown area, intending to reward herself at the end of her run with a cup of coffee and a pastry. The two miles between her family's home and the middle of town was sparsely populated this early in the morning, and a light snow was beginning to fall, muting even the sound of her feet on the pavement. It was like running in a dream. The coffee shop had just opened, and Katara had her pick of fresh baked goods. She chose a crispy guo kui for herself, and some fruit tarts for the rest of her family, and a tall cup of spiced dark tea to sip on her leisurely walk home. Once her breakfast was done, she pulled out her phone to check for messages. There was one from Sokka informing her that Sesi had a dentist appointment that day, and another from her father asking if she felt like going out to dinner that night. Katara sighed, and put her phone away.

She spotted Aang first, this time. He was wrestling with the key to one of the shop fronts, and he nearly dropped the ring when he heard Katara call his name.

"Hey, Katara!" he greeted her brightly. "Wow, I'm amazed! You're never up this early."

"Jetlag," Katara shrugged and rolled her eyes. "By the time I'm over it, it'll be time to go home."

"It's so weird hearing you call someplace home and not mean here," Aang chuckled and shook his head. Finally, he was able to get the key to turn and he held the door open for Katara to come in.

"So this is the shop?" Katara looked around and tried not to react. The shop was dingy, even before Aang turned on the lights. The slight odor of wet animal permeated the air, and it was smaller than Katara would have guessed.

"Pretty great, isn't it?" Aang held his arms out and grinned. "It needs a new coat of paint, but this is just where I start. Once it takes off, I'll be able to get a bigger place, too. Eventually, I want to take over the old Highwater barn. To give the animals space to run and stuff. Maybe even turn it into short term pet boarding." Katara cast a look around the shop again, and this time her smile wasn't forced.

"I'm really happy for you," she told him. "It sounds like a wonderful plan." Aang's cheeks flushed slightly and preened.

"You don't think I'm a failure for not making it through vet school?" he asked. "I'll probably never get rich off of this."

"You probably wouldn't have gotten rich off being a vet," Katara joked. "But that doesn't matter. You've found something that makes you happy, and I think that's worth all the wealth in the world."

"Really?" Aang's smile widened. "That's not what I was expecting to hear from you."

"Oh?" Katara's face turned inward in confusion. "Why not?"

"Well..." It seemed like Aang was trying to find a delicate way to say what was on his mind. He rocked on his feet nervously and gestured at Katara. "You know...I've...we've all kept up with you, you know. The small town girl who made good in the big city. You're marrying some rich guy-"

"None of that means I'd put money ahead of my happiness," Katara was unaccountably annoyed. "And how do you know how much money Zuko has?"

"I don't mean to be rude," Aang waved his hands, backpedaling quickly. "I was curious when I found out you were engaged. I didn't get a chance to ask you about it yesterday, so I peeked at your social media. Zuko Kaji is...well...I don't think his wealth is any secret." Katara rolled her eyes.

"Yes, fine, he does have money," she admitted. "But that's not why I love him."

"I didn't mean to imply that," Aang swore. "I just...when I saw you at the store yesterday...It's just, you seem so different now. I haven't seen you in almost ten years, and now it's like you're a completely different person." Katara tapped her finger against her cup thoughtfully.

"I am a different person," she said. "Aang, you can't base what you know about me on who I was when I was in high school. I'm not that person anymore. None of us is exactly who we were ten years ago. That's what happens. I'm living a different life than I saw for myself back then, but it's a good life, and I'm happy."

"Good!" Aang turned and started fiddling with the cash register. "I'm glad to hear it. It's nice to know that fabulous wealth doesn't hinder happiness." Katara eyed him for a moment, but then laughed weakly.

"It's not as bad as the movies make it look," she said. She glanced at her screen for any text notifications.

"Hey, Katara?" Aang cleared his throat nervously.

"Yeah?" she looked up expectantly.

"You're in marketing, right?"

"I am," Katara answered slowly. Aang lifted his arms and gestured around the shop.

"Obviously, I'm going to need some more customers if I'm ever going to make it to the Highwater barn, but I'm kind of lost on the whole marketing thing. Do you think I could pick your brain? I mean if you have time."

"Sure, Aang. I actually have some time today. I can swing back around this afternoon and we can talk strategy. Yeah?"

"That'd be awesome!"

Katara gathered her bag of treats and her now ice cold tea and headed for home. Hakoda was on his way out to work, but he gratefully accepted a custard tart on his way out the door. Sesi couldn't have any sweets before her appointment, and Sokka refrained out of solidarity, but he made Katara promise not to eat his while he was gone.

"As if I was the one with that problem," Katara scoffed. "Bottomless pit." Kanna was visiting a sick friend, so that left Katara on her own for the better part of the day. After she showered, changed and checked her messages, Katara headed back out for Aang's shop.

It was busier than it had been that morning, but only just. Aang was at the large tub sink rigorously scrubbing down something large, fluffy and white with a towel. He glanced over his shoulder to see who'd come in, and his face lit up when he saw her. Katara felt heat rise to her cheeks unexpectedly.

"Who is that?" she asked, motioning towards Aang's client.

"Indrani," he told her. "This is Mr. Saki's best friend. Or so he says. She's a friendly ol' furball." Indrani turned and licked Aang's cheek.

"She certainly likes you," Katara giggled. "She's pretty. Even without her blowout."

"Second prettiest she in the place," Aang shot Katara rakish grin, and there was another rush of heat to her cheeks. She cleared her throat and took a seat in the waiting area.

"I'll be over here when you're ready." Aang and Indrani moved over to the drying station, and the sound of the pet dryer made conversation impossible, so Katara took her phone out to occupy herself. She'd muted her work emails, and now had to resist the urge to open them to see how things were going at the company. There was nothing she could do to make the money from the investors clear faster, anyway. She opened her personal email instead. There was nothing in her inbox but some coupons for the makeup brand she wore and an announcement for a sale at a store she hadn't shopped at in years. She navigated back to the home screen and hovered over the text message icon for a moment before opening her video app and putting in her earbuds.

She was halfway through an hourlong video on the history of Ba Sing Se's surprisingly shady cabbage trade when she was brought back to the present by a tap on her shoulder. Aang stood over her, waving and grinning as if he'd been calling her for a while. Katara glanced around and realized that Indrani was no longer there. She had been taken to a kennel in the back of the shop, Katara would learn later.

"I didn't realize I had it up so high," Katara said as she put away her headphones and phone.

"No worries." Aang switched the sign on the door to closed and motioned for Katara to follow him. "Step into my office."

Aang's office was a supply closet with a desk. there was no window and it was cramped, but Katara was impressed that the shop had anything resembling office space at all. There was a pile of boxes in front of the desk, so both chairs had to be put on the same side of the desk. Aang let Katara take her seat first and settled in beside her.

"So..." Katara took a notepad and pen from her purse, and leaned against the wall behind her. "Why don't we start with the basics? How often are you posting on social media?"

"Um..." Aang blinked in surprise. "Social media? I haven't really been on any of my accounts in a while."

"Okay, and what about you socials for the shop?" Katara pressed.

"I...don't have any?" Aang replied sheepishly. Katara wrote that down on her notepad.

"Social media presence is really important," she explained. "Especially with a business like yours. It's a really effective way to keep in touch with existing customers and connect with new ones. And you have an immediate hook. Everyone loves pictures of cute pets."

"That's so much work, though!" Aang complained. "The whole reason I stopped using social media was because of all the time it took up."

"You don't have to spend a ton of time," Katara told him. "Most sites will let you preschedule your post. I'd recommend setting them up a week in advance. It shouldn't take you more than a couple of hours a week. It's also a really good way to announce sales and specials and stuff like that."

"If you think it'll work..." Aang seemed uncertain.

"Trust me!" Katara said. "You'll want to ask all your customers to like and follow the page. And every so often- like say, once a month to start- you'll want to announce a special. Just to keep them engaged." At the word engaged, Aang's eyes drifted to the ring on Katara's finger. It glittered beautifully, even in the florescent light of the office. Katara was too busy scribbling down monthly special ideas to notice Aang's scrutiny.

"Are you running any holiday specials?" Katara asked, startling Aang from his thoughts.

"Er...no," he said. Katara's lips drew down in a quick frown.

"Tell you what," she said. "I'm going to work on a few things for you. A couple of flyers, a loyalty card, and a couple of post for your social media. And I'll make a plan for your next quarter. What do you think?" Aang scrambled for a response.

"Wow, that sounds like so much," he said. "Do you think you'll be able to do that all before you go?"

"It won't take me more than a few hours," Katara said. "Small business campaigns are really easy, but if you stick with the plan, it's going to bring in so much business you'll have to move to the barn!"

"That would be amazing, Katara! I don't know what I'd do without you. I've been open for three months and I still only have three regular clients. It's been...scary."

"The first year of business is always the scariest," Katara reached out and squeezed Aang's hand. "You're going to be fine." Aang looked at her hand on his. The ring, with it's giant stone glittered and twinkled at him. He placed his other hand on top of Katara's and squeezed it.

"How did you get so good at this?" he asked.

"It's what I do," Katara said. "I'm the head of the marketing team at Zuko's company." That caught Aang's attention.

"You're marrying your boss?" He made a poorly concealed face at that. Katara's cheeks went pink and she shrugged.

"He's not actually my boss," she said. "I mean, I don't answer to him directly. We didn't even realize we work at the same place until our second date." Katara chuckled at the memory.

"How did that happen?" Aang asked. "You didn't know the CEO of your company? Isn't it like...number one on the list of interview advice to look up the CEO of the company?"

"Nah," Katara shrugged. "You want to know enough about the company to be able to talk about why you want to work there, but no one actually cares if you know who works in the C-Suite. I met Zuko at a coffee shop about month into working at the company, and he asked me out. We promised not to talk about work on our first date, and we weren't supposed to talk about it on our second date either, but then we both got an alert from work about an ad campaign falling through because the company we were partnering with didn't like the layout. We ended up both having to go in at the same time. It was like finding out each other's alter-egos.

Katara laughed as she recounted the look of shock on Zuko's face. He was worried that HR would have a problem with them dating, but since Katara was both high enough in the company and far enough removed, it hadn't been an issue, though they still kept it secret for another year.

"You really like him, huh?" Aang asked.

"Very much," Katara sighed. She idly flipped her phone over and checked for notifications.

"Are you expecting a call or something?" Aang asked.

"Sort of," Katara turned her phone back over and pushed it slightly away. "I sent Zuko a message yesterday, and I haven't heard back."

"Oh?" Aang leaned forward, his brow drawing down in concern. "Is that unusual for him?"

"Kind of," Katara said. "He's in the middle of work crisis. He can be very single minded when he's working. He usually takes the time to text, though." Aang regarded her quietly for a moment. He put his hand over hers again, tracing lazy circles around her ring.

"You know...they say that engagement is the time when couples are supposed to be attached at the hip," he observed.

"Yeah, this whole investor fiasco is really cutting into our gross engaged couple time," Katara snorted. "But I knew going in that running this company was going to take a lot of his time. It's a fairly new company. You know how much work it takes to get a business off the ground."

"That's true," Aang conceded. "Still, if I had someone like you, I'd drop everything for a text." Katara blushed and slowly withdrew her hand from Aang's.

"It's not that simple," she said. "Especially with what's happening now. He has a lot more people than just me to take care of. I'm proud of him and how much he cares. I just...I miss him."

"Good thing he's coming soon, then," Aang sat back in his chair, arms folded and eyes directed away from Katara. She paused before she answered.

"Yeah..." she said, tucking her phone into her purse. "Good thing." Then she stood up and gathered her things. "I should get going. If I get home fast enough, I can knock out one of these flyers before dinner."

Aang stood up and walked Katara back to the front of the shop. He caught her hand before she left the shop. Katara looked from their hands back up to Aang's soulful grey eyes.

"You deserve to be cared for the most," he said. Katara nodded dumbly and hurried out of the shop into the chilly winter air. It was sharp after being in the heated office for so long. Katara felt like she was waking suddenly.

As Katara turned down the block to her father's house, her phone buzzed. Zuko's name flashed across the screen, alerting her that he had finally, finally answered her text.

I'm sorry I took so long to get back to you.

I know I said I'd be there in four days, but something's come up with the investors. I have to change my plans. I'll talk to you soon.

Love you and miss you

Katara took several deep breaths. She wouldn't cry. She had acknowledged this possibility privately before. It wasn't Zuko's fault. And despite what impression this was leaving on her family and friends, she knew that Zuko did truly care and would be there if he could. She just wished that it was in his power to put her ahead of his company more often.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

[bluegekk0]

Alr, Anon from prior, Allow me to elaborate.

1:

The reason I questioned PK and WL breaking up was because it seemed "Out of place", for lack of better word, It didn't seem like they were going to break up, WL still loves PK, and PK (in this au at least) seems patient enough to help someone find better ways to grieve, so it doesn't make sense (from my pov, obviously), for him to leave someone over something as simple as how she handles the death of her children, If you really wanted a good, in character reason for them to break up on good terms, you could also just say her mental instability became too much for him, and he left her bc he didn't want to play doctor anymore.

2:

I did not know you intended this au to be a comfort space, Mostly because the whole "He went into sleep, Got beat up by his kid, and his wife left him" thing doesn't make it obvious, so sorry.

and 3:

did not intend him to be a joke character?

Could have fooled me, It seems like the only content that is posted for the au to establish any kind of storyline is either indulgent palegrimm stuff, Memes, Or somewhat descriptive images.

In short, While I hold no blame on you for what you choose to post, this is what happens when one claims something to be serious, but doesn't necessarily treat something like it is serious.

Also, I don't intend the tone nor theme of this to be harsh, Passive aggressive, or criticizing, I just had greatly subverted expectations that somewhat annoyed me, and I enjoy writing long messages, So it wasn't difficult to make.

alright. i tried to be as nice as possible, i really did. when i said i don't appreciate those kinds of comments, it was not an invitation to continue to nitpick my au. you have problems with the way i write my character, that's fair. that does not mean i will explain every single issue you have with it or change it to your liking

i will be blunt. this au was not made for you. this is something personal for me. is it perfect? no. i'm not claiming it to be. it's not meant to be perfect. maybe it does not make sense. i'm not a good writer, it's inevitable that it will have holes. i do this for fun, and i share it because people like to see it. i do not want to "establish a storyline" in a sophisticated manner that is coherent and professional. i'm simply sharing art and ramblings about the characters i love that mean a lot to me. if you're looking for a well written narrative that always takes itself seriously, you're in the wrong place. you are free to scroll past my stuff. you are free to block my blog if it bothers you. i won't hold it against you

this is the last time i will respond to this. i do not wish to turn this into a drama and a bigger deal than it is. let's be respectful to each other and just move on with our lives. i make silly posts about my au, you have your own expectations that were not met by said posts. it happens. life goes on

[freckliedan]

I’m sorry if this is a dumb question but if Dan was a trans woman how would that work since Phil is gay? He would be supportive of course but would that not be an issue for the relationship? I do not mean to offend by the way!!

not a dumb question & you're not offending! i have two angles of response for this.

first: i've never put a label on dan's identity.

dan has always acted in ways that defy gender expectations for cis men. he's been increasingly open about doing so intentionally since 2017. and! that has escalated noticably since the gaming channel return. we can't determine what it means for dan, but we can be happy about it <3

my dan gender blogging is a celebration of her comfort & happiness. dan might be comfortably cis and exploring gender nonconformity. dan might be exploring identifying outside of the gender binary. either way i'm here cheering for dan's bravery and joy and openness.

second: there are so many different ways that a relationship can go when one partner figures out they're not cisgender.

sometimes when a person's partner transitions to a gender identity incompatable with their sexuality, that ends the attraction in the relationship even if they both still love and support each other. other times the relationship ends because one or both partners' identities are invalidated in an irreconcilable way.

so yes, phil's gay. but in this hypothetical i find it equally unlikely that dan would end up feeling misgendered by phil's continued attraction or that phil would feel his identity was invalidated/lose attraction as a result of dan identifying away from cisness.

we all saw how phil reacted to sister daniel, and he's been openly supportive of dan's other forays into gender exploration, past and recent.

even in a world where dan is transfeminine to some degree, that's not something that's mutually exclusive with still being a man in some regards. you can be both at once, or fluidly move between genders.

but ultimately i just don't think that phil's gayness is a bigger part of who he is than his partnership with dan. in part this is me speaking from experience?

i used to be solely a lesbian and when i realized that my partner might someday identify as a man (before he realized they're a nonbinary trans man) there was never a doubt in my mind of if we'd stay together. it just changed how i related to my sexuality & lead me to further introspection on my own gender.

i don't think phil would end up in quite the same place as i did of reassessing identity. but i also can't imagine gender coming between him and dan, after everything the two of them have been through together.

if a fic that brushes on this same question would add clarity for you, @dvp95's quiet on widow's peak is AMAZING and articulates what i'm trying to say better than i did.

does that help answer your question?

¹occasionally i or others use descriptive language that is also sometimes a self identified label, like gnc/nonbinary/genderqueer. it's never intended in an identity-labeling way when i do this, & always as an umbrella term that encompasses a variety of experiences.

[scarletooyoroi]

Bond with the earth.

Bond with the world.

Allow yourself to breach individuality, but realize the base components that you and everything around you share. Only then, will a very particular strength be much more willing to be drawn by your hand.

Thoma found itself ruminating overthis over the longest time. Whether in miniscule moments, or at his most troubling heights. Somehow, the aspect of training always allows for that saying to stir the tranquil waters of his mind. It was a welcomed focus as he takes concentration upon this open clearing. Right now, he needed a required step back into the basics.

Shieldcraft, the simple application of stirring forth barriers for offensive and defensive means. An apt lesson already rests within due to vigorous training and the particular fuel that inspires his divinity. Protection. The very concept enjoys blooming in various manifestations. Right now was a situation no different, a joyful breath is swept into his lungs, allowing anemo-kissed oxygen to empower the lungs and body. What would surge from him in copious waves would be the stir of his energy, a very potent heat that finds itself imbued with the essence of Pyro.

Gathering the concentration of elemental energies allowed swaths of scarlet to be witnessed to the trained eye, coalescing in concentrated waves as the blonde holding their stance within remains upon the epicenter. What many would feel as turbulent waves of temperature would be the ideal of passion circulating within the heart of Thoma. Steam would billow from his lips as the timed exhale that follows. ‘Mmm. In terms of the basics, how about manipulating the radius this time around..‘ His thoughts would serve as the kindle of inspiration.

For the many, many times he’s managed to prove the scales of durability in more compacted shields, it certainly has been awhile since taking this method and extending it. As he proceeds to bring his hands close, that tinge of inspiration from the geomancers rings as the inspirational thread.

They conjure their formidable boundaries from the earth, the land, a constant and overwhelming source that all of humanity and much of animal life walk upon.

Couldn’t the same principle remain true for heat? The eternal balance to everwinter?

Realize the Authority.

A shell of pronounced crimson would immediately surface from the land itself, streaks of riveting orange and gold stirring to wakefulness alongside of the starting color, giving the pronounced image of more animated flames revolving around the growing dome that begins to extend  far from his body and high into the heavens, extending it’s reach by the second. There would no threat of fire as the dome completes a new scale of extension, as even the surrounding grass found itself at peace with Thoma’s intentions, never holding the threat of catching ablaze as that nurturing directive extends to nature itself.

Part of him comes to be surprised at just how easy this particular has come to him. As much as his past failures led him to believe that bigger shields sacrifice durability for raw range.. to some means maybe that principle holds true still, but experience remains the winning attribute to turn this tide. That same dense heaviness could be felt within his soul, considerably more improved to the barriers that flickered and faded at the mere thought of holding entire parties or buildings worth of people.

Good. This would be good in the times where his capabilities to provide cover were considerably more valuable than offense. It was a means to provide calamity from realizing any foul destinies that intend to callousness tear life away.

Thoma’s Vision could only give a joyful gleam as the scarlet powers vested within that crystal shone, reverberating with the core concepts that found this a loving quality for the future ahead.

“And I feel so tireless too.. Heheh, it truly has been a wild road to reach this point. Okay, now how about a sparse moment of meditation while keeping this maintained. Learning to keep this leveled for prolonged periods would be crucial.”

There was no hesitation to get to work.

[milkywayan]

as promised: the start of a new long post of the making of, of a new 15th century dress. here is a first sketch of it, though i have no idea what colour to make it in. maybe i will make a nicer illustration when i actually know what fabric to use. a friend of mine said he had some swatches of nice wool from people in sweden, so importing it to norway should work fine. maybe i even find producers here, who knows.

things that are different to the previous one: one piece, short sleeves with extra detachable ones. also, i am drafting the pattern myself this time, because the one i used last time did not fit what so ever. this means, this thing will be skin tight, as it should be!

first off, lets start with the pattern drafting: i followed this amazing tutorial by the amazing Morgan Donner, and i love her.

a lot of notes and measurements, a bit chaotic maybe. please excuse the mix of german and english, i dont know all the terms in english and the short notation i only know in german from fashion school. bilingual brain things, i guess

started to make the pattern then, right now i have the front and back done, and still need to do the sleeves, where i am not sure yet how long each are going to be.

i made it a bit bigger than intended, because i am currently a bit on the low side of my weight, and i dont want it to not fit when i am done. but i already know that i have to remove some width in the chest area. but i will know more when i do the first (of many) mock ups. last time i only made two mock ups, which was a massive mistake! this time i will make mock ups until i reach perfection. this will be an iterative process :D

[genshin-impacted]

deserved // Zhongli x Reader (NSFW)

Word Count: ~2k

Notes: female reader, Zhongli/Reader, established relationship, just two people who love each other exploring what the other enjoys, NSFW (see below)

nsfw mentions: spanking/humiliation, brat!reader, dom!zhongli, dom/sub dynamics, implied afab, penetration, kink exploration!!

Summary: "There are certainly many things I am not knowledgeable on, and this is one of them." Zhongli says (modestly, in your opinion), "But human pleasure and pain have... always been complexly intertwined, and if this is something that will provide you that joy, then I would like to try-- for you."

So you want him to wield a harder hand-- he can do that.

.

.

.

"You would like me to... hit you?" Zhongli asks hesitantly, his furrowed brows and hesitance a clear sign of his confusion.

"Well, yes, but in a very specific way," you explain very clinically. He has always liked that about you, being able to keep a level head and being upfront about topics of importance or about things that would have normally been embarrassing for other people. It makes your points clear, which is ever so helpful with the many human things he has yet to comprehend. "Spanking over the knee as punishment, more specifically."

"Punishment?" Zhongli echoes. He is familiar with the term but he would have never associated its need when it comes to you. "Why would I punish you?"

At this, you give him a playfully withering look. "Zhongli, you can't possibly say I don't mess up sometimes and show up late or forget to do something." You tease, "There's plenty to punish me for."

"But... I do not wish to punish you for those," Zhongli protests, and you feel yourself soften when he holds onto your hand, insistent. "Bound to contracts as I am, I would never cause harm upon you, regardless of mistakes such as those."

"I know," you say softly. "Sorry, I guess that wasn't very clear. But I meant... you would 'punish' me for... 'misbehaving.'" At his increasingly concerned look, you laugh. "I think it makes sense if you view it in a more sexual way, babe." (Zhongli feels himself flush at the way one of the pet names you have given to him rolls off your tongue so naturally.)

"You're not really mad at me," you continue, "but you can act like you are mildly displeased in order to punish me for something I did- or I guess, in this case, for what I didn't do. Like, listen to you, or something."

"I see." Zhongli pauses thoughtfully. "And this would be enjoyable to you? I will not be causing you harm by doing this?"

"Well, if it did, I agreed to try it, and I could always let you know to stop," you say, reminding him. "Our safe word and all." You crack a smile. "And I think the physical harm is part of the pleasure. As well as the emotional. But since I know you aren't really hitting me because you, I don't know, hate me or something, it should be fine."

"I don't hate you," Zhongli replies immediately. "I love you."

You feel your heart clench at the easy admission of his feelings for you and squeeze his hands. "I know. I love you too." You clear your throat. "Which is exactly why I trust you to do this with me and be able to enjoy it."

"We can always try again if it doesn't work out," you say. "But are you okay with doing this?"

"There are certainly many things I am not knowledgeable on, and this is one of them." Zhongli says (modestly, in your opinion), "But human pleasure and pain have... always been complexly intertwined, and if this is something that will provide you that joy, then I would like to try-- for you." You beam at his response and Zhongli feels comforted by the fact that you have always been patient and have proven to be so even now.

"We'll work it out," you tell him. "But you have verbal consent to do it whenever you think is appropriate... though I think I can probably act in a way that'll make it easy for you."

Zhongli blinks. "What do you mean, my dear?"

Your eyes twinkle.

.

.

.

You are a playful person at heart, and Zhongli thinks that has been one of the (many) reasons why he is in love with you the way he is. You bring levity into his life, a sense of appreciation for the world around you that is simple in its beauty, finding joy wherever it can be found. He is not surprised to find himself faced with a very similar attitude in the bedroom where you tease and coax, making him feel the need to hold you down and claim you as his (much to your delight).

("You are a minx," he mutters into the crook of your neck that he had, not a moment ago, ravaged with lovebites. You only laugh, hugging his head and pulling him closer, the marks on your body the spoils of victory.)

Zhongli understands now what you meant how it would be a natural progression to introduce your latest kink when you decide to rock yourself onto him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes. Pay attention to me, your hands say, trailing over his shoulders seductively. Notice me.

The book in his hand will always pale in comparison when it comes to you; you need not have tried to demand his attention at all when you could simply ask for it. But as a result, he had requested a few minutes to read, to which you would have normally acquiesced to quite easily. But today, he finds that you are impatient, almost impudent in the way you demand his attention.

A brat.

His heart beats steadily faster than usual (but it always is when it comes to you) when he says your name firmly, a hard tone in his voice that has not been there before. You notice immediately. Zhongli almost wants to look at your reaction if the way you freeze is any indication of how his tone affected you.

So you want him to wield a harder hand-- he can do that.

"Will you not listen to me?" He asks, hand curling around the small of your back. His hands have always been much bigger than yours, but at the moment it seems ever more expansive with the way he commands the room. "Do you need my attention that badly?"

Your retort is quick and sharp in a futile attempt to gain the upper hand, despite the way your cheeks redden. "No," you say immediately, eyes trailing down his unbuttoned shirt collar. "I was... just bored is all."

You gasp when he grabs hold of your wandering hands, his eyes flashing dangerously when he speaks. "How unfortunate. For you to disturb my peace and to lie to me..." Zhongli says calmly, "I believe we need a reminder for you on how to behave properly."

"Get on my lap, since you want to be on it so much, and I'll make sure you remember clearly." You open your mouth to protest and he shoots you a sharp look. "I will not say it a second time."

You glare at him, but that is all you do in protest. Quietly, you swing your leg off of him and delicately place yourself onto his lap, your head hanging down from one end and your legs on the other. Zhongli watches, mesmerized, as you 'reluctantly' submit to his words and display yourself for him with pressed lips, a heated face, and a subtly hidden look of anticipation.

Zhongli takes your consent in mind and does not ask before he sweeps your skirt up to your hip, making you jerk in surprise. He temporarily admires the round of your ass, the fullness of your cheeks, and thinks for the first time that he may enjoy watching how it bounces from the impact of his hand. His rubbing on the curve of your right buttock is the only warning you get before he raises his hand and spanks your ass.

The involuntary sound you make from impact is obscene.

Judging from the way you clamp your mouth with both hands, Zhongli thinks you hadn't anticipated doing such a thing either, and if anything, that makes it all the more attractive for him to have heard it. He looks back at your ass and decides you can take another hit if not a few more. (For both yours and his sake, it is a good thing indeed.)

Zhongli hits the same spot for good measure, and you gasp, back curling slightly as a response. He smacks your other side soundly, earning him another sound; grabbing your ass into his hands before spanking it again consecutively makes you cry out again in a way that makes it evident that it's from pleasure rather than pain.

It goes straight into his cock, and Zhongli has to resist the thought of it hardening for now.

You are covering your mouth from embarrassment, however, and that won't do.

"Put your hands by your sides," Zhongli commands, making you freeze. "This is your punishment; I intend to hear every sound that comes from your mouth."

You place your hands to the side, your fingers digging into his leg to resist the urge to move it back. "Z-Zhongli," you stammer out, wiggling your lower half.

Zhongli takes a gander and slips his hand into your panties and comes out with his fingers wet.

"You're dripping," Zhongli says bluntly. He glances at you as you reflexively hide your face in embarrassment, only to quickly place it down in memory of his command. "How long have you been aroused, dearest? How long did you go wanting me until it was too much to bear?"

You whimper in response, your ass wriggling in his firm hold. "Hold still," he tells you, and when you plant your feet firmly onto the ground stubbornly, he slaps your ass again. A few times, for good measure-- a symphony of gasps falling from your lips, and you stop moving immediately.

The power over you, and the enjoyment you take from being controlled, is intoxicating.

"Good girl," he says instead, trailing a hand down your thigh in praise. Your hand grip into his leg in response, ass rising ever so slightly as though to urge him to continue-- though it has long stopped being a 'punishment' for you anyways.

Zhongli takes care to spank mainly on the convex of your ass, lovingly swatting below and upon your thigh to shock a lovely gasp from your lips. He watches as you rub your legs together in an attempt to abate the sting of the spank and relieve the tension below. When you become muted, he takes a peek at your expression and feels his breath leave him at how your lips are slightly parted, panting, and your eyes glazed over with pleasure.

Utterly submissive, he thinks, watching as you choke out another sound in between a gasp and whine. You may be enjoying yourself thoroughly, but he thinks he enjoys this kink of yours (and his, too now) if you end up looking irresistible like this, in a different way from the way you can dominate him, fucked out and completely pliant for him.

"Did you learn your lesson at all, I wonder," he says, gently tracing his fingers on your tender cheeks. When you nod your head furiously at his question, sniffling, he smiles, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. "You were very good for me, darling, taking all that for me.” He allows you to maneuver yourself until you are delicately straddling him again. He kisses at the plump of your cheeks, holding out his hand so you may sit comfortably on him without rubbing yourself raw with your already sensitive skin. In response, you melt into him, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him, and his heart feels full to bursting with affection for you and the vulnerability you have allowed him to see.

"I'll take care of you, my love," he says. "I have a soothing balm that will surely be of great use; I'll pull up a bath for you and make you comfortable."

Zhongli is surprised when you pull yourself away from him to see your pout, adorably petulant, your hand roaming down to where his cock has been hard for the past session.

"My darling is greedy today, aren't you?" He teases and chuckles when you make a disgruntled noise even as you unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants. "No? You aren't greedy?" He helps you pull his pants down as he lifts himself up, grinding himself onto you. "You can be if you so wish," he says, as you look at him pleadingly.

He could have demanded you to speak to him and tell you what you wanted, but he decides against it. He aids you when you line yourself up for him and carries you down gently when you sink yourself onto him. The look on your face is pure bliss, and you have never looked more like a temptation.

Zhongli bites onto your exposed collarbone and lets you ride out your high for as long as you desire. It is, after all, what you deserve.

[luimagines]

Perhaps them being protective over you(the reader)? Mostly platonic but hints of romantic(if you get what I mean?) Like, the relationship between them has been platonic and they’ve only really seen it has platonic, but someone(the Heroes) might be catching feelings. Also if it isn’t too much trouble do you think you could keep this in the same timeline? Like, your other scenarios had the same reader and felt like these all happened at some point, can you do the same for this one? I hope this isn’t too much trouble, really love your blog!💖💖💖

Masterlist

Ok, I think I get what you mean. The Hero is protective with a hint of feelings they haven't come to terms with. They're crushing but they don't know it yet.

I don't know what you mean by the same timeline though. It wasn't supposed to be the same reader for all of them but hey! It be like that sometimes, I guess! Especially if they're just friends.

The Reader is also set to be the same age as Wind for his scenario.

Warrior's got longer than intended and there is some catcalling in that one. FYI

Scenario under the cut!

Legend

"You can be seriously going out in that." Legend couldn't help but snap. The group had been dropped into a snowcapped mountain in the middle of a blizzard. The only luck they had on their side was a nearby cave where they all but ran to in an attempt to weather the storm and get their bearings.

But someone still had to scout and you were planning to take Wild and Twilight with you since they were the only ones who could both brace the cold and most likely find their way back.

He, however, didn't like the idea of you going out there period.

Even less so when he found you severely underdressed compared to your companions.

It seemed however, that you saw no problem with it, even going as far as to tilt your head and look down at what you were wearing at his comment. It sparked something in Legend's chest that he wasn't willing to decipher at the moment.

"What's wrong with it?" You asked.

"Are you serious right now?" Legend scowled. The top you wore was tight around your chest and the cloak that clasped at the front billowed around you ever so slightly from the wind at the front of the cave. There were thin layers of furs under your linen over shirts that matched the fur lining your boots outlining your figure and silhouette in a way he found irritating.

The light that barely peaked through the clouds lit up your form gave you a halo of light over your head and made you look more of a hero than he ever would have pictured you.

It didn't sit well with him.

"That doesn't nearly look warm enough. If you plan on going out in that then you'll freeze within the first ten minutes." He crossed his arms and stared you down, willing you to disagree, to challenge him, keep you here longer so one of the others can pick up the lack and go instead.

"It's bear fur Legend." You reply instead with an easy grin your face. He elected to ignore it because he was trying to stay mad and irritated at the lack of care you seemed to have for your own safety. Why weren't the others backing him up?! Wouldn't Twilight have said something by now?! Or Time?!

Why was it just him?

How dare you smile like that? And at him no less! He's trying to make a point, darn it! It's hard to concentrate when you look so... innocent and bright and happy and-

Focus Link.

"I actually have four layers on as well." You continue and peel back what you can to show him what your clothing looks like. Unknowingly giving him a great look at your figure beneath said layers. "Two layers of wool and two of fur and I still have my clothes under here as well. Without enchantments like Wild, it's probably the warmest thing here. I'll be alright."

He can't bring himself to believe it.

He grits his teeth and continues to look at you, not bothering to spare a glance at Wild or Twilight when they eventually join your side, both now ready to head out.

"Honestly Legend. I know it doesn't look like much but I grew up around snow and ice and mountainous storms. If anyone knows what they're doing here, it's me."

He knows this. You told him. He knows that he knows this.

Why can't he believe it?

His hand forms a fist with a tight grip and he gets an idea.

Before he can fully think it through, he's marching up to you and snatches up your hand before you can protest.

You haven't put on your gloves yet so it's skin on skin.

He can't think much of it or he'll lose his nerve and he's already gone too far to go back now or he'll only be making a fool of himself.

Legend all but rips the most powerful ring he has on his person and shoves it onto your own. It's a protection ring, it'll shield you if anything tries to hurt you.

He's not entirely sure why he cares so much, just that he does, and this is all he can do if no one is going to back him up and stop you from going.

"I want this back." He says. He knows it sounds meaner than he's intending but then you let him put it on, take your hand back and marvel at it for a moment.

"I'll protect this with my life." You flex your hand, testing out how it feels and wonder what magic it must posses for Legend to not only give it up but deem it worth for the storm outside.

"Thanks Vet." You grin brighter and Legend finds himself floundering for a moment at the intensity of it.

The tips of his turn red, he knows this and he forces himself to distance himself or else the others would notice.

Your trio disappears into the white and he sits down by the fire made for the smaller ones of the group. He hasn't made eye contact with anyone since you left and he makes the mistake of trying to casually play it off by looking up.

Time is watching him with a knowing smile on his face.

"What?" Legend barks and scowls at the attention.

The older man just laughs a bit to himself and shakes his head but he doesn't say anything.

Legend thinks back on his actions a little sooner than he thinks he should and glances at his hand. The hand that grabbed yours.

Despite the journey, your hands were so soft.

He can't help but smile.

Time

Time was watching the over the group for the morning shift, his hand over his sword and his eyes watching... well you.

You intrigued Time.

Out all the heroes of courage on this journey, you weren't one of them. You weren't a Link and yet you seemed to fill a gap the group didn't know it had.

He couldn't figure out why or how but he found himself wanting to know what made you tick, why did you work so well with the others, what your world was like, and how did it mold you to be so....

He had trouble finding a word for it.

As the boys rough housed and played around, he found himself relaxing. It was a quiet morning and he had the added support of Wolfie on look out for any monsters.

He put his sword down and and walked over to where you were.

You were sitting with a book in your lap, something he found you doing often. But this time you were ignoring the book, laughing at Wind's and Wild's antics as they blasted each other with their Deku leaves. Wind continuously knocked the Champion around but neither of them seemed to mind.

If anything, it appeared the were doing on purpose and were trying to see how far he'd go.

Boys.

He could feel the smile on his face as he made his way toward you.

"Enjoying the theatrics?" He spoke up.

You jumped with a small yelp, something he found endlessly entertaining.

"You're the biggest guy here! How are you so quiet?!" You yelled in his face with a pointed finger and hand on your chest.

Time chuckles and sits down next to you, sitting just close enough for your knees to brush. "Sorry. It's not always intentional, I promise."

"So you admit you do it on purpose!!" You turn to face him fully. Book absolutely forgotten.

Time finds himself pleased by the change.

"Occasionally." He grinned.

"Oh, and I so happen to be your favorite victim then?" You crossed you arms and leaned closer to him. Your words were biting but the smile on your face was teasing and the glint in your eye was knowing.

"Of course."

"You're impossible." You shove him away. "You're only like this because no one will ever suspect you."

"Is that so- LOOK OUT!" Time had noticed a second too late but in the seconds Time stopped paying attention to them, Wind and Wild had stopped launching each other and started launching objects.

Such objects like coconuts and hard wooden barrels.

Like the ones heading in your direction.

With no time to act, he grabs you and rolled out of the way, pressing you into his chest. The huddling objects bounced off of your spot, some exploding on impact while the rest crashed into the nearby trees and bushes.

It looked like a war zone.

Time held onto you for a second after the damage passed, waiting for any else to come your way. When nothing appeared, he began to let you go, looking down on you to see your reactions. "You ok?"

You had curled yourself into his chest, continuing to press yourself close to him even after he let go.

Time finds himself pleased by this as well.

"Well..." You took a deep breath and slowly looked up and around. "That was exciting."

"Are you hurt?" He asked again. You looked fine, if only a little shaken, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"I think my leg got scratched in the chaos."

Time forces himself to stay calm and to not show any reaction. A scratch is better than getting hit head on. You'll be fine.

"What about you?" You look up to him again, eyes wide and bigger than he remembers and they were such a lovely color-

"I'm more concerned about you." He says, cutting his own thought process off. Time proceeds to get up, being as gentle as he can with you still in his arms. "I did just happen to grab you."

"Well, I'm sure it would have been worse if you hadn't." You grin at him and push yourself away.

Time now finds that he misses the feeling of you there but isn't able to focus on why when the two culprits are running up to you at break neck speeds.

"Are you two ok?!" Wind reaches you first.

"We're so sorry, we miscalculated the angle and it went wildly off our target." Wild continues and helps you to your feet.

Wind hovers near Time, unsure of what to do or how to help.

Time looks over to where you are, breathless but smiling dazzlingly. "We're ok." You tell Wild. "Just thrown around is all, we're fine."

Time sighs and stands up, putting his serious face on. "You boys better have a good explanation for this."

They could have hurt someone. They almost hurt you. His only consolation is how they squirm under his gaze.

Good.

Wind

"What the hell? What the hell? What the hell? What is this place?!"

Wind looked over his shoulder from the fight over to where you were, the monster he was fighting falling before him. It was a great thing in his eyes to no longer be the youngest of the group. Not only for there to be someone of his age to talk to but also get the group off of his back for some of their more dramatic attempts at keeping him safe.

Wind was having a blast.

Everyone had found a dungeon in the sense that they fell into it against their knowledge and will and had happened to land with partners.

He hopes so anyway.

But on his end, he's with you!

And he's loving it!

You've never judged him and you've always thought that his stories were great and this was a great opportunity to show you how cool he is in a fight without the others trying to stop him from doing all his cool stuff.

And as an added bonus, he loves spending time with you!

Wind was close to wishing on stars for more time to spend alone with you. The others were always around and always in his business. How lucky that it seems he got his wish without doing that little kid stuff, like star wishing.

He didn't take into account that this might be your first dungeon though.

...Guess you didn't have those in your world...

But that's fine! He'll just walk you through it. They're easy once you get a groove going, and as dungeons go, this one is old hat for him.

The enemies around you fall within minutes and you're a little more shaken up than he likes.

"You ok?" He puts his sword on his back and walks toward you. You're staring at the fallen enemy in front of you with your own sword still raised. There's a slight cut on your arm, a red line going across and down, but Wind is almost certain that the cut is across...the blood is just going down your arm.

Wind takes a moment to quiet the sudden and unexpected rage. The monsters are lucky, he thinks, that they're already dead.

He grips his wrist tightly at the sight and places his other hand on your own. You gulp slightly and look at him tearfully. "Wind, where are we?"

You're scared, he realizes.

Scared, and alone and you don't know what kind of place this is.

There's another cut just above your eye and there more blood going down your face.

Wind feels himself fill with determination. He has the experience you lack to make it through here. He has been in more fights than you have. He knows what he's doing.

He's going to make sure you get out of here without being afraid anymore.

"Come on." Wind lets himself go and places his hand on top of yours, gently pushing the sword down and make a small effort to lace your fingers together. His other hand grips his sleeve and he begins to swipe it across your face, trying to clean the blood the best he can. "We're going to find the others, ok? We just have to keep going and if we're lucky we'll find a map, maybe a compass and it'll help us get out of here. We'll be back with the others in no time!"

You gulp and nod, tightening your grip on his hand and let him lead you through the unknown. Your voice is quiet and soft and Wind finds that he wants to hear it more often like this...just not laced with fear. "Ok. I trust you."

Wind nearly preens at your words, a large smile overtaking his face.

He'll protect you and you won't have to be afraid, not while he's here.

"Just leave it to me. I got this."

Warrior

"Whatup, Captain?" Warrior feels a weight be thrown on his shoulder at the call of the voice.

He looks to the side where it is and throws an easy smile on his face.

It's you! And you're grinning fabulously in his direction.

"Nothing in particular. Just checking our supplies, we might need to make a supply run in the nearest town for potions if we're lucky enough to find one but..." He looks at the bag in front of him with slight distain.

Truthfully, the group is low on a lot of stuff. Food, medical and magic supplies, someone is going to have to buy the Veteran more sewing supplies as well with how much battery all your clothes have taken on.

It would have to be a big buy....

A small town probably won't have half the stuff they need. And he doesn't know what kind of budget he's working with either.

But he's dealt with worse with less.

The group will hold on for a little longer if nothing drastic happens.

But Warrior doesn't want you to know that. If he had things his way, he'd let you think that everything was ok. That everything was fine and under control.

He's used to having to keep dire news from the troops so that they can keep fighting the good fight.

Lying to you though feel wrong. Dirty.

He finds your complete trust in him endearing and your willingness to help him with any and all loads on his shoulders means more to him than he'd ever be willing to tell you to your face.

You brighten and throw a thumb in the direction behind you. "We're in luck then. There's a town, that-a way according to Wild's weird telescope from his slate. I was planning to go check it out regardless but was in need of a partner. Wild can't because Twilight benched him after last fights stunt. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone?"

That idea sounds fantastic.

"I'd love to." He says easily. "Got anything to do before we head out?"

"Nope. Ready to leave immediately." You get off of him and he follows after you without missing a beat, quickly falling into sync with your steps. It's a habit he has trouble breaking, but if he can focus on matching your stride instead, he can stay by your side for the walk.

"We're getting supplies from the town. Be back soon!" He calls out to Time and the group as you walk by.

Time raises his hand in acknowledgement and goes back to pinning Wild down with his stare alone. Warrior doesn't feel sorry for him.

With that taken care of, you both pick up your speed and quickly leave the range of your little camp. Jokes are traded easily between you two and Warrior finds himself relaxing.

It's a strange feeling but one he knows that he can share with you.

You put him at ease and there's something about you that calls for his attention.

Maybe it's your attitude. Maybe it's your determination. Maybe it's the way you fight and the grace you carry yourself with.

You're a good fighter, a good team mate, and a good person.

You take care of the others. You take care of him.

He doesn't know how to thank you.

Warrior notices that you both reach the town in record time, the conversation seeming making time a useless way measure distance.

You both walk in and begin with Warrior's shopping list since it has a higher priority than simply exploring.

Warrior makes a promise to himself to find something for you.

A small gift, if you will.

He's not entirely sure what you like just yet but he thinks you deserve something nice and if he's here to buy nice things, then why shouldn't you get something as well.

The trouble is getting it without you seeing him buy it, or figure out his plan.

You were always able to read him like a book.

"Lookin' good sweetheart!" A voice calls from the side. A loud and obnoxious voice followed quickly by multiple cheers and whistles.

Warrior instantly has a spike in irritation and he forces himself to not shout back. He's used to this. It happens sometimes back home. He's not surprised it can carry elsewhere. There's pigs everywhere.

He ignores them.

"Why don't you leave your boy toy and come find out how a real man can treat you darlin'?!" Another one comments. More cheers and howls.

Boy toy?

That's new.

Warrior looks in their direction and comes to a startling discovery.

They're not looking at him. THEY'RE LOOKING AT YOU.

Now... Warrior likes to think he's a rational man. He's good at keeping his head on straight in tough situations. He's good under peer pressure and under stress.

He takes one look at you and sees your smile gone, your head is down and your face is red in shame, anger and embarrassment.

But you don't say anything in reply and only shuffle closer to him, trying to get in front of him so he'll shield you from their gaze.

Warrior is a rational man.

Many would agree with that.

He wants to tear their heads off.

"Come on baby, don't be that way! As easy as your back is to watch, we want to get a good look at your pretty little face!"

Warrior turns suddenly and faces them all head on. "Thank you for the compliment doll face! I'm new in town and just passing through but maybe-"

He starts walking towards them as sultry as he can manage, pulling on every acting cell he has in his body.

Which is a lot if you ask him.

The tactic works as he wants it to. Warrior knows he wasn't their target and the idea of him responding instead throws them off their rhythm.

"No, no, wait-" One of them holds a hand up and takes a step back. "Not you."

"Who else darlin'?" He mimics their drawl and smirks at their instant discomfort. "You want a good time?"

"I'm leaving." One of them says after a second of horror shows on his face and not so subtlety turns on his heel and leaves. The third follows without saying anything and it just leaves Warrior and the first caller.

Warrior likes these odds.

He drops the act and lets his murderous intent shine on his face. "Got anything else to say?"

Warrior reaches for his sword and the idea finally gets through the guy's head. Leave us alone or else.

"...No." He says and finally leaves as well, not looking back at either of you.

Warrior nods at his retreating form and returns to you, a little ashamed by how long it took him to react. For your sake.

His head is low when he reaches you and he scratches the back of his neck instead of making eye contact.

"Um... What do you want to do now?" He asks lamely. By Hylia, he wants to kick himself into oblivion.

A small snort catches his attention and he snaps his head up.

You're looking at him, hand over your mouth and crinkled eyes giving away your not so hidden smile. Your shoulders are shaking and it only grows as he stares at you.

You're not mad? He has trouble believing it because he's still furious.

A small bark of laughter escapes without your consent and it's the last wall to break as the dam flows out. You're laughing hysterically and it's beginning to scare him a little.

"D-Did you see their faces?!" You nearly scream. "Oh my god, Warrior, I love you. That was amazing."

Warrior shakes off the shock and feels himself blush. "It wasn't that special..."

"Wasn't that-? Oh boy, I wish Wild was here. I would have loved to get a picture! Warrior that was awesome. I'm so glad that you agreed to come with me." You walk beside him and grab his hand, beginning to drag him through the town. "You know what? I owe you. I have some rupees and we're not expected to come back to camp yet. You want something? I'll get it for you. My treat. Anything you want."

Warrior begins to flounder, and he's uselessly dragged behind you while your grin grows with every second that you talk.

While this all happens and you talk about the ways you plan to treat him, Warrior starts to think that he might just do anything for you.

Hyrule

Hyrule was busy enjoying the scenery of their most recent trip. He had managed to sneak away from the group and walk around the area without having to worry about the others for a moment.

The quiet was nice and familiar. The place was new and begging for him to explore what it had to offer.

Hyrule... found himself wishing for companionship, weirdly.

Well, as long as his travel companion is you.

He supposed Wild would have been just the same....but he found himself wanting to be with you instead.

He just... he doesn't know why. It doesn't bother him.

There's just.... He has trouble finding the words.

You're warm and gentle and it reminds him of casting his Life spell on himself before he met the others. There's a sense of safety, of calm.

A cool breeze on a warm summer's day.

A smile creeps on his face at the thought of you. Hyrule knows that he does it often but he still can't bring himself to care about it.

"Oh my- NO! HEY!" He hears your voice. Panicked, frantic and shrill.

And it gets cut off.

It's a bucket of ice water dumped over him. His heart launches into his throat and his stomach drops to his feet. His feet are moving in the direction towards you before he even realizes it.

Hyrule has reached a full on sprint and has to continue to run when he fails to find you. He takes a moment to be grateful for his stamina and how he's used to running but you're not.

At least he doesn't think so.

But he hopes this isn't where he finds out.

He trips over something. A sharp pain cuts across his shin as he falls to the ground, palms barely sustaining damaged thanks to his armor.

Hyrule gets up and sees something even worse than what he thought.

It's your sword.

You don't have your sword.

You're unarmed and alone.

Hyrule picks himself up and your sword and continues running at an even quicker pace.

He reaches you eventually and feels unadulterated rage flood through his system.

There's a pig monster over you, cheering and dancing in victory. There's only one. He thinks it's one of Wild's bokoblins but he calls on his magic and sends his sword straight through the monsters beating heart.

There's no black blood as it falls.

He sprints even more in your direction and begins to cradle your head, gently checking for blood any injuries.

He lets the healing spell move through his fingers to catch whatever he might be missing, whatever he can't see or get to without hurting you further.

He can feel what areas need the attention the most and can almost reconstruct the attack.

There's a large bump on your head, most likely the hit that knocked you unconscious.

Your arm is scratched and multiple pieces of skin have been torn off but it's a graze more than anything, it's not bleeding and doesn't goa any deeper than that.

Probably the hit that knocked your sword out of your hand.

There's a bruise blossoming on your knee and on your stomach and he has trouble figuring out what came first. They could have come from your fall or the beast could have simply hit you again.

The magic works its way through your system and subsequently heals him as well from his own minor injuries.

There's no way you can wake up fast enough and it leaves his heart pounding in his chest.

Hyrule knows when there's nothing left to heal and has to force himself to stop before he overexerts himself. The uncertainty is killing him. Just when he was hoping to spend time with you alone, this happens.

You groan and begin to sit up, your hand going to your head before realizing that it doesn't hurt and that you're not alone.

"Hyrule...Hey." Your voice is soft and a smile overtakes your face. You looks around and sit up straighter when you catch the dead body of the monster not two feet from you. "Guess that's your doing?"

Hyrule nods and moves to give you space, reaching his hand out for you to take. "How are you?"

"Good, all things considered...." You shrug and pick up your sword. Hyrule didn't even notice that he dropped it. "I was looking for you."

A mix of emotions fills his heart. Guilt at being the cause of it. Relief that at least you're together again. Happiness, strangely, at the thought of you thinking about him.

"Well I'm not lost, just..." He nervously looks up to you, his hand coming to scratch the back of his neck. "Got left behind."

"We noticed." Your smile fills with mirth and it's borderline a smirk.

Hyrule is not prepared by the realization that he finds that incredibly attractive.

"Thanks for coming to my rescue." You say, wrapping your arm with his. "The rest of the group is over here by the way."

"Yeah... Yeah ok." He grins and tightens his grip around your arm. "Let's meet up with our friends."

Yeah....friends...That's just what friends do.

Why does he feel weird about it?

Twilight

"On a scale of one to ten, how hard is it to learn how to ride a horse?"

Twilight looked around Epona's form, pausing his motion in brushing her to see you leaning up against her, a hand on her neck and brushing ever so slightly.

"Some people are more natural than others I suppose..." Twilight responded, an idea forming in his mind. "But it's not difficult."

You nodded in response and continued to pet the best girl around.

"I can show you how... If you want that is." Twilight grins to himself, leaning closer to Epona so you don't notice. The thought makes him giddy in a childlike way and he doesn't want you to be put off by his overexcitement.

You snap your head in his direction, a bright and excited smile on your face. "Really? I've always wanted to learn but I didn't want to impose."

Oh.

Out of everyone who could easily show you how to ride a horse, you came to him.

Well... doesn't that do something to his heart.

I mean, he is the only one with the horse but -DETAILS!!

He doesn't care for them.

"Here. Get on." He walks around and holds the reins, gesturing for you to get on Epona's back.

"Right now?" You're surprised, but delighted.

Twilight thinks it a good look on you.

"Sure. We're not going anywhere just yet and Epona can use a walk to stretch her legs." He says and helps you get up. Twilight is quick to follow after you and sit behind you, your back pressed up upon his chest.

"Ok, here's what you're going to do." He gives you the reins and places his hands over yours, leading you and Epona to where he thinks is a good place to go for a small trot.

It's effortless for him to lead you both through the trail.

Your trio actually pass by the group who are resting for lunch and wave to them as you go. Twilight catches the smile Time has on his face and is quick to put together that he knows something he doesn't. He'll ask Time about it later.

Twilight talks to you about how to hold the reigns, how to kick the horse into gear, how to steer and anything that he can think of that means safety for both you and the animal.

"Hey Twilight-" You mention suddenly and point just beyond the distance. "-Should we be concerned about that?"

Monsters, also on horses.

An arrow wizzes by suddenly, imbedding itself in Epona's side.

Shocked by the pain and scared by the suddenness of it, Epona takes off in a sudden sprint. Encouraged by the reaction, the monsters give chase.

Twilight notices that they don't have as much control over their chosen transportation.

He has the advantage.

Epona's first instinct is to run back to the group, back to the numbers and safety. Twilight knows better though, he can't lead the monsters to the group, even if he has a sizeable lead on them. He quickly turns her away, a plan forming in his mind.

You don't have weapons or back up, so this is going to get interesting.

"TWILIGHT!" You scream and throw yourself against him, covering your eyes with one and and gripping him tightly with the other. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Trust me!" He yells over the rushing wind. "I think I have a plan!"

"YOU THINK? You're crazy!" You reply, directly into his ear. "But I trust you... so I guess I am too!"

"That's the spirit!" He grins. Twilight knows Epona won't be able to do much more without injuring herself further and he doesn't want to make any reckless decisions with you right next to him.

He'd hate for you to no longer want to ride a horse over this bad experience.

"Hang on tight!" He finds himself yelling, adrenaline in his veins and he pushes Epona to go a little bit faster.

There's a cliff nearby, a ledge that if he can Epona to go fast enough, she can jump it.

The monsters may try to follow but Twilight is riding heavily on their lack on control and the horses will to stay safe.

Epona reaches it and jumps.

There's a moment of weightlessness and Twilight's heart floats up to his throat. You gasp, and fling yourself around to press your face into the crook of his neck.

Twilight takes one arm off of the reigns and wraps it around you, pressing you tightly into his chest.

Epona makes the jump, landing on the other side with a little more turbulence than Twilight is used to, but he'll blame her shot.

He slows her down and looks to the other side of the ledge.

The monsters do in fact try to follow but Twilight's gamble and intuition pays off. The horses stop just by the edge and several monsters fly off of their backs and down below. The other monsters who can't get by, stop in anger and scream from the other side.

But it appears they lost their archer to the abyss.

So you're safe.

"Oh my goodness..." You gulp and remove yourself from him. "Holy cow... You did it. You mad lad, you did it."

Twilight chuckles nervously and begins to lead Epona back to the camp, gentler and a little more aware now of how she's moving, how much she's been hurt.

"Is Epona ok?" You try to look around him and spot the injury, but there's not a lot of space on the saddle to manage that. He does it for you and sees that it's mostly blocked by the saddle itself, the arrow imbedded deep into the side, just missing the both of you.

Epona most likely only has a scratch and was more startled if anything.

Twilight's not happy about his girl getting hurt but knows that she's taken worse hits. He'll tend to her later, he's worried about you too.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, but Epona?" You insist.

"She's fine. It mostly hit the equipment. They were terrible shots." Twilight grins easily, taking the lead in steering Epona and leans into your back.

You laugh breathlessly and turn your head directly into his. It gives him a great view of your eyes and how they seem to glow in the light. He finds himself entranced and almost misses what you say completely.

"You're incredible, you know that?"

He nearly preens and he pulls himself back. "You think so?"

"Incredibly reckless." You snort. "You've lost your privileges' for yelling at Wild. You're just as bad as him."

"I-..." Twilight starts but can't finish.

"But hey, at least we're ok." You lean back and make yourself comfortable against him. "That could have been worse."

Twilight doesn't move a muscle while you're there, if you're comfy against him, then he'll keep you comfy. "Yeah. Sorry about freaking you out back there."

You go quiet for a moment and he wonders if he's ruined something. Twilight doesn't know if there's something to ruin actually, and he doesn't understand the thought now that he's had it. He doubts you'll stop being friends because of this, so that's not at threat. Monster attacks are not something new. But...

He wants to do this with you, for you.

He doesn't like the idea of you turning him down.

"I don't know..." You say eventually. "Maybe you can make it up to me by continuing these horse riding lessons. Maybe I'll forgive you then."

Twilight doesn't look at your face, he doesn't turn to look at you. He's afraid he'll give too much away on his face if he does.

"If you're still up for it?" It's question. It wasn't supposed to be a question.

You nod and fully relax, your heartbeat gently beating against his own. "Maybe less monsters next time?"

"Agreed." Twilight grins. "Not until after you learn to go out on your own."

"How about... No."

Wild

"Wild. I. Have a question." Wild looks up to your approaching form, tensing up in anticipation.

"Yeah, what's up?" He tries to grin naturally. Wild feels his heart start to beat faster and his face heat up. He gets nervous around you even if he wants to be by your side, but he doesn't know why.

He knows you're friendly and sweet and nice and incredibly smart and there should be no reason that you do this to him and yet he wants to impress you so bad....

But he doesn't know how.

"Your slate has that crazy inventory right? So you carry a whole bunch of stuff on you at all times?" You try to stand tall but you dip your head and thread your fingers through your hair.

You're nervous.

Now you really have his attention.

"Yeah. I might have enough stuff to rival the Veteran and he's known as the Collector as well." Wild sits back and tilts his head at you. "What's up?"

"I..." You start and bite your lip. Wild's eyes land on it and he focuses there for longer than he thinks is appropriate. "I just wanted to ask if I could borrow a sword if you had extra... Mine's about to break and I don't want Smithy on my case about it, since I don't have what I need to fix it. But....um...You know what, nevermind. It's not a big deal, I'll manage, I'll-"

"No! It's fine!" He shoots up to his feet and grabs your hand to keep you from leaving. "Got anything in mind? I've got claymores and short swords, elemental weapons and sheikah blades. I've got some cool boomerangs or clubs from monsters if you want those."

While he's talking, he brings up his slate and begins sliding through the pages and icons, bringing it up to your faces so you can get a better look at what he had to offer. He's quick to point out what weapon can do what and how he has one story for each of them.

He takes a look over to your face and is overjoyed when he sees that you're looking through the screen with as much fervor and excitement as he did when he first came into contact with his world's weapons.

"..." He sees your eyes lock on one of them and voice comes out in a giddy giggle. "This one."

"Which one?" He leans over and places a hand on your shoulder. You let him, or you don't notice but the fact that you don't shove him away makes in happy in a way.

You point to it and he has a brief moment of panic when he sees the one you want. It's one of Robby's creations, a sheikah chainsaw so to speak. It's one of the biggest weapons he has.

"OK." He gulps and takes it out. He presses the activation button and watches your face when it lights up the blade.

A large grin over takes your face when you see it and stare at it for a moment. The light is bright in your eyes and you let out a giggle that's borderline hysterical.

"This is awesome!" You make grabby hands at it and he hesitates to give it to you.

He likes that you like it....but he's suddenly not all to convinced that he should. Wild knows that he's reckless and that he gets hurt a little more than anyone appreciates but... What if you get hurt? With his weapon, no less?

The thoughts scares him a little more than he'll admit.

Maybe you should have that one.... Maybe a more... normal weapon would have been better?

You step away and give it a few experimental swings and his heart launches into his throat.

"Ho-ok!" Wild frantically opens his slate again and takes out a another weapon, a normal iron sword. "Take this one as well actually."

"One is enough Wild. Thank you but-"

"We don't want the others to get jealous, now do we?" He lies. "This way it'll be easier to explain...so maybe save that one for emergencies?"

"Alright." You press the button and stash the weapon away, taking the other sword from his hand. Your fingers brush and he tries to not jerk his hand back and make it awkward.

"For the others sake." You grin, and there's a glint in your eyes that makes him think that you're on to him.

But you don't mention it.

He won't plan to mention it either.

He'll gladly share anything else with you though. You just have to ask.

Four

"RUN! WE HAVE TO RUN!"

Four's head snaps up and he doesn't have the time to register why before you run past him and grab his hand, dragging him behind you.

"WHAT?!" Four yells next to you and matches his stride to your easily. "WHY ARE WE RUNNING?!"

"THEY'RE AFTER ME!" You cry and continue running, taking a sharp turn. "NO TIME TO EXPLAIN!"

Four isn't prepared for the level of rage and concern for your behalf as he begin to reach for his sword and turns around to fight whatever has you in a panic.

"Don't!" You pull his hand harder and nearly throw him off of his feet. "It's not worth it. Just run, maybe we can find a place to hide."

"What's after you?" He asks instead. How bad did it have to be that you didn't even want to fight back? Was it monsters? Did they have numbers on their side? Was it the weapons they had? Were they infected?

He'd gladly fight them for you.

But if it's bad... it's bad and he knows that infected monsters take more effort then they should and they're not something he can do alone.

"Here!" A smile appears on your face and with another sharp turn to press him close to your body and squeeze into a small space. There's no space between you two, it's chest to chest, completely up against each other and Four suddenly has a hard time concentrating.

Four says your name in an attempt to distract himself from your body and eyes the hand you press against his mouth in response.

"Shh..." You look outside the hidey hole and snap back in.

Familiar voices ring with mirth and exhaustion but they are not dangerous. Four finds it in himself to be a little miffed at there not actually being any danger but he keeps quiet at your request.

"Where do you think they went?" Wind has a grin in his voice.

"I don't know. I think they actually lost us." Wild replies in kind. "But they can't be far. It's not like they can out run us."

"You take the right and I'll take the left?" Wind offers and Four has to wonder what they want with you.

You keep your hand over his mouth for a moment longer before slowly retreating.

Four gulps and takes a breath. He's immediately assaulted by how you smell. It's weirdly not just sweat, but apple blossoms and some kind of herb that he's having trouble pin pointing.

It's intoxicating and despite the lack of personal space, Four thinks that this is the most comfortable place he's been in a while.

"Ok. I think they're gone." You turn and begin to shimmy out of the hole. "Sorry about that. They want me to do something dumb with... an item of mine and I don't have the heart to tell them no. So I ran... Which didn't really work because they followed."

Four follows out of the hole and brushes the front of him off. He places his hands on his hips and fixes you with a stare.

"And then I ran into you and I didn't want to explain everything but you're a good guy and you'd just tell them where I went because you wouldn't know and I didn't want to risk leaving you behind-"

A good guy?

"So you kidnapped me?" Four raises an eyebrow. "That was your solution?"

"Well... How else do I get your attention?" You mimic his position and look him in the eye.

Four's about to retort with something that you could do before he stops himself. It's... not something one would just say to a friend. But he finds the idea very appealing for a moment before being disgusted with himself for thinking that about you.

He rolls his eyes to change the conversation outwardly but he continues thinking about it. "There are easier ways to get my attention. One of them, for example, say my name."

"Hard to do, if all of you have the same name." You grin.

He smiles back.

Truthfully, now that he's thinking about it, a lot things that you do catch his attention.

The way you move your hands when you talk. The way you move when you fight. The sound of your laugh. The color of your hair and your eyes.

"Um..." You laugh nervously and scratch the back of your neck. "Would you mind staying with me for a moment longer? I uh- Don't know the way back and I don't want to risk running into either of them just yet But.. I did kidnap you, so if you have something better to do-."

Oh yeah, he'll stay with for for longer. He doesn't mind one bit.

Sky

Sky yawns and rubs at his eyes for a moment before turning his gaze back into the fire.

It's early.... like, stupid early. He hates getting up before the sun and would have gladly stayed in his bedroll... but it's his shift.

Admittedly, he doesn't mind being on watch.

But it's the whole concept of being up before the very time keeper in the sky that miffs him. His body wants to fight it and he typically has to put his whole bed roll away when it's his turn or else he'll be tempted to go back to it and sleep the rest of the night time away.

The only bonus, he supposes, is the chance to watch the sunrise.

It's so different on the surface than on Skyloft, there's more colors and it's not as blinding. He can't to experience more when he reaches his own time again.

The other bonus, he supposes, now that he's thinking about it, if the chance to watch over his new friends and that includes you.

You... Are just as mesmerizing as the sunrise, he thinks.

There's something about you that he finds completely captivating. Your endless colors and arrays of simplistic beauty keep his attention in ways he wouldn't have thought possible. Bringing peace and tranquility to the group when they need and being a signal to start the next leg of the adventure.

And yet, he can admit that it's nothing extraordinary.

You're not trying to impress anyone. It comes naturally to you.

Like the sunrise.

Sky smiles to himself and....he's mature to admit that he's glad he met you, and he think he'll miss you the most when this is all over.

When Sky comes back to the present instead of being trapped in his own head, he realizes that he's been staring at you for a while.

You're still sleeping.

He takes a breath. That wouldn't have been awkward. He prides himself on not being a creep, thank you very much.

You turn in your sleep and a sound escapes you.

Sky sits up a little straighter and watches you again. He knows that everyone has their fair share of demon to fight even when they're asleep. It wouldn't be all that surprising to learn that you had your own battles beyond daytime.

You move again, lifting your arm to fight whatever your brain says is in front of you and a gasp comes through.

Sky shoots up again begins to make his way over to you. He's careful not to wake the others but if he kicks Wind's on the way over, he won't mention it... It's not like that woke him up anyway.

When he finally reaches your side, you're shaking and moving side to side without knowledge of what is happening outside your own mind.

Sky nearly growls and kneels next to you.

"I wish I can fight those things for you..." He says out loud as he begins to gently shake your shoulder. "How dare they still plague you. They're not even here. Who gave them the right?"

You give out a small scream, something in your mind terrorizing you and it prompts Sky to shake you by both your shoulders until you wake up.

Your eyes shoot open with a gasp. You're covered in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. It takes you a while to realize where you are and who's in front of you but in the meantime you try fighting Sky off, still not fully aware that you're awake.

"Hey, hey, it's me." Sky takes a step back in hopes of calming you, even if it's the last thing he wants to actually do. "You're safe now. It's ok."

You finally stop and look at him, staring for a moment until he can see the moment when you see him. "...Oh..."

"You ok?" Sky takes the step forward. "That seemed rough."

"I... Um..."

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He takes another step forward and places his hands on your shoulders. You're still shacking but instead of answering him you launch yourself into his arms.

Sky doesn't hesitate to hold you and lets you cry into his shoulder for as long as you need. He makes a vow to himself right then and there.

He's going to do his best to protect you... and the others. So that even if things get hard, maybe you'll have less nightmares to deal with.

If you'll let him, that is.

For now, he's going to hold you and be there for you when you need him.

It's... really all he can do.

[wiypt-writes]

Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 8 Part 2

Summary: Andy and you both head back to Boston, and you encounter two familiar faces you hoped you’d never see again…

Warnings: Language, mentions of smut (NSFW, 18+). References and flashbacks to past abuse. Slight violence, and a very angry Lawyer Daddy, which is a warning in itself…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

W/C: 9.5k

A/N: Again, we got LOT going on in this chapter, but it all serves a purpose in the bigger plot…you’ll see!

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 8 Part 1

The anticipation leading up to your trip grew, but along with the excitement came anxiety for both yourself and Andy. However, you had to rip the proverbial band-aid off and just go. You'd been away from Boston a shorter amount of time than Andy had, but neither of you were steady on your feelings of returning there. You were there for your parents and Penny, Andy was there for you. But there were bits of closure you both needed and whether Andy wanted to admit to it or not, he still had a friend in town that he kept in regular touch with.

So, after driving in from Logan International late one afternoon, the two of you settled in with your parents, as your mother broke the news Penny had moved back in a week prior, and despite yours and Andy's anxiousness about Boston in general, you'd warmed up to being home nicely. 

Now, on your first full day back in town, you were just pulling up to have lunch with Andy's friend Joanna at the Thai placed she'd set up.

“I’m really looking forward to meeting her.” You smiled at Andy as he turned off the ignition. “You speak very highly of her."

"I really want you to meet her," Andy smiled softly. "She's the only friend I have here. Only friend I had for a while, actually.”

You looked at your hands, struggling to put into words what you were feeling before you decided to blurt it out anyway. “I hate that all that happened to you. You didn’t deserve it,” and then you groaned, “Jesus, that sounds so dammed patronising and pitiful. Sorry!” You cringed.

Andy's hand covered yours, "Angel, it's okay. Nothing I can do about it now, no going back, remember?"

"I know," you sighed. "I just.... Andy, thank you."

“What for?” He frowned a little, puzzlement etched across his face.

"Coming back. It's not easy for either of us, but for you..." you didn't intend to beat a horse over it but, you knew the struggle Andy was dealing with in coming home. But he did it, because he said he wanted to be with you, and your family. And that made your heart warm through and through.

“Look,” Andy took a deep breath and shifted so he was side on, facing you, “I’m happy to be here, with you. Stop worrying about how I’m feeling and let’s enjoy the few days we have together, okay?”

You sheepishly nodded, "yeah, okay."

You opened your door as Andy did his, waiting for him to come around and walk with you into the restaurant. He held your hand as he escorted you in, finding a tiny, grey haired woman with glasses sitting in a corner table.

As she spotted Andy, a huge smile spread across her warm face and she rose from her seat with a chuckle.

“Andy Barber,” she laughed and Andy grinned, letting go of your hand so he could give her a hug. “Good to see you.”

“Hey, Jo, how are ya?”

"I'm good," She replied, returning his hug, "you must be Y/N. I've heard a lot about you."

“Hi.” You smiled and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you finally.”

"Same, please, sit," Joanna gestured towards the table and all three of you sat down and got comfortable. The waiter brought drinks as you perused the menu, listening to Andy and Joanna catch up.

“They do a mean Pad Thai here.” Joanna looked at you and your eyes flicked up from the menu and you smiled.

“I love Thai, there’s just so much choice!”

The three of you decided on a few plates to share, ranging from the Pad Thai to Beef Satay and as you waited, you chatted. Joanna wanting to know a bit about yourself and what you did in Colorado, your past never once coming up and neither did Andy's. You enjoyed the woman across from him, the way she treated you as an equal, spoke to you not at you, she was genuine.

You felt Andy's arm reach behind your chair and rest along the topside of the back, his fingers rubbing that space between your shoulders just below your neck through your sweater. Your hand dropped gently to his denim clad thigh, thumb absentmindedly tracing shapes over the top of the material and then he leaned over and kissed your temple.

You smiled at him briefly then turned your attention back to Joanna. When your food arrived, the three of you dug right in, still carrying on in conversation as if you'd been all friends for ages. And just before you left, as Joanna and Andy fought over the bill, you passed Joanna her small gift, an ornament, intricately painted of the Rockies.

She laughed and beamed at you, nodding to Andy.

“Yeah I thought you’d like that!” He smiled. “And, you really should come over soon for that visit you keep threatening me with.”

"I think I might just take you up on that. I'm working a big case right now, but after, I could use the vacation," Joanna smiled appreciatively.

“Well there’s plenty of room to stay at mine.” You offered, “Andy’s spare room is a dump.”

“It’s not a dump.” He looked at you. “I know exactly where everything in there is. It’s organised chaos.”

"For someone so neatly OCD in the office, you'd swear a child or a Tasmanian Devil lived in it." You laughed, jokingly sparing with your boyfriend.

“Hey, look,” he glanced down at you, laughing, “the rest of my apartment is perfectly in order!”

You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head, playfully chuckling. Joanna seemed to laugh along with you until the three of you began exiting the restaurant, Andy helping you into your coat as you stepped away from the table. The two of you walked Joanna to her car, which was a couple of spots before your rental and Andy leaned down to hug her goodbye.

As she pulled away from Andy you caught her whisper into his ear. “I’m glad to see you smiling again, it looks good on you.”

You watched a grin spread across his face, "Thank you, Merry Christmas, Jo."

"Merry Christmas, Andy," She winked. Then she turned to you and gave you a strong hug. "Keep this one out of trouble, huh?"

You returned her hug as you said, "I'll try."

The pair of you waved her off before Andy turned to you, smile on his face. “Should we grab a drink before we head back?"

You pretended to think it over, "sure, why not?"

Andy chuckled and grabbed your hand, kissing the top of it, your skin cold against his warm lips. He rubbed your hand between his, "let's get out of the chill for a bit."

The pair of you headed over the road and into a bar, which was quite busy with office workers snatching an early finish, celebrating the Christmas period. Andy found an empty spot for the two of you and pulled you gently along behind him. You shucked off your coat as he did his, placing them on the back of your chairs and took a seat. The bartender indicated he'd be just a moment and Andy nodded back in reply.

"What do you want, Angel?" He asked, turning his body to angle your way.

"Something warm," you smirked.

“Yes, but for now, how about a drink?”

You tossed your head back in laughter and shook your head and Andy shot you a playful wink.

You couldn't help but notice, as he ordered your drinks, the relaxed nature he'd had about him, how different he seemed since getting off the plane. The entire flight he'd been fidgeting and restless, switching from his book to trying to nap and back again. It'd made for a restless flight for yourself. Now, he seemed mellow, like he'd pushed through something he'd been keeping up.

“So…” you cleared your throat, “I thought we could take Bongo out tomorrow for a walk? Mom is grocery shopping and I am NOT getting roped into that. I draw the line at the Christmas fight in Whole Foods.”

"Yeah, I don't see why not," Andy shrugged. "Wait, how far can a three legged, one eyed dog walk?”

“Don’t be fooled, he’s very agile for an older guy. Not unlike someone else I could mention.”

“Oh, we’re back with the age jokes?” He looked at you and you laughed.

“Joking aside, he’s not actually that old, just had a rough start. Dad found him wandering around the course one Saturday, he was in a bad way. When he took him to the vet, they said it looked like he’d been in an accident. They couldn’t save his leg and, well, Dad felt sorry for him so he came to live with us. He lost his eye a few years later when he managed to stab himself with a stick.”

Andy shook his head. “He’s certainly been through the mill.”

“Yeah, but we love him. And he certainly seems to like you. You know, he was scratching at the bedroom door to get in this morning when you were still sleeping?”

Andy chuckled, "yeah, he likes me so much he thought my boot was a chew toy." He sipped his fresh bourbon that was brought moments before. "Luckily, I caught the little bastard before he wrecked them."

You giggled and sipped your Spanish Coffee, "He's just sharing the love. Besides, he only has one eye, not his fault he can’t see…”

Andy rolled his eyes, "yeah, stick up for the dog. I see where I fit in your hierarchy."

“Hey, that dog has been part of the family for years.” You teased. “He’s very precious.”

You kept Andy to a two drink max so you guys could head home to your parents before the snow was supposed to hit around dinner. You wanted nothing more but to sit in the living room, the fire going and snuggle up with Andy.

When you arrived home, your mom, dad and sister where at the neighbours, you and Andy politely declining the invite earlier that morning. And it suited you fine, as you settled into your living room, the place where you’d spent many a Christmas period through your childhood. 

You looked around the space as Andy set up the fire. The way your mom always made it so homey made your heart happy. She was a traditionalist when it came to Christmas, always getting a fresh tree, opting for reds and golds, fresh pine and greenery. When Bongo came around, she had to forget the holly berries and fresh mistletoe but it didn't make it any less festive. But what made you even happier this time round was that Andy looked like he fit in here, like he was home and that made you feel like you were doing the right and good thing. You'd found someone who seemingly loved you for who you were now and perhaps before.... but, all things considered, the woman before was one you couldn't really remember.

Once the fire was lit, Andy settled beside you and you snuggled into him, both of you with a fresh drink each. 

Andy pressed a kiss to your head and you glanced up at him, smiling. “Love you.”

"I love you," he bent further as you leaned up, pressing against his lips. You felt a warmth in your cheeks at the words. Although Andy had said them a few times since his confession the previous weekend, you didn’t think you’d ever tire of hearing them. 

"I like this," you said quietly, pressing your ear to his chest, relishing in the comfort, the love.

“My sweater?”

"No you dork," you playfully poked his side. "Us, just sitting here, nothing to worry about, toasty and relaxed," you listed.

He took a deep breath, his hand rubbing up your back. “Yeah, it’s nice.” He shifted a little, looking back down at you, “I’m glad you liked Joanna.”

You tilted your head back, pressing a kiss to the underside of his neck, just at the trim line of his beard, "she's great. I can tell she really cares about you. She seems like a good friend."

“She is.” He swallowed, his eyes closing. “Probably the closest one I had before I met you.”

You reached up with your hand and rubbed your thumb over his cheek, your fingers across his beard as you cupped his jaw. "I'm thankful for that." You kissed him softly, holding his pouty lip between yours.

His strong hands reached round and he manhandled you into his lap, his hands on your hips. As his thumbs ran along the waist of your jeans, and under your sweater, he touched your soft skin. He deepened your kiss, running his tongue along your lips, until you opened for him, giving him more access. Kissing Andy had become one of your favourite things. He was good at it, made you tingle and feel sensations you'd never felt before. He wasn't over powering, not in anything he did with you really, and that alone made you enjoy it more. His hands drew across your hips and up your back, under your sweater, blunt nails dragging down your back gently, causing a shiver over your body.

“You know, I was probably about sixteen the last time I made out with a boy in here…” you whispered, your fingers gently dragging over his cheeks. 

His body rumbled beneath you, enjoying the attention you were giving. "Well, now you're thirty-five." He kissed you with a heated fervour, breaking only to slip that sweater over your head and tossing it to the carpet at his feet.

“And you’re forty-one, not exactly what I would call a boy.” Your fingers strayed to the bottom of his sweater, gripping at the hem. 

You had it nearly ready to pull up over Andy's head and arms when the front door opened and you heard your dad's voice, "Hey... Oh shit... I'm sorry!" 

"Dad!" You flew off Andy's lap as he gave you a shock reaction shove.

“I was just…” your dad paused before he burst out laughing, “Jesus wept, Y/N… I can’t….” He doubled over wheezing and you tossed a cushion at his head.

Your eyes were wide, darting between your dad and Andy, who by now was fifty shades of red.

"I was coming to see if Andy wanted to join me and the Old Bastards for a drink in a bit, but it seems you're highly occupied....on my couch!” Your dad snickered.

“Fuck…” your head rolled back against the cushion of the sofa as Andy looked at you, almost seeking direction. You shrugged.

Just then your mom and Penny walked in, and immediately Penny broke into a fit if laughter. "Jesus, Y/N, you have a bedroom you know," she snorted.

You reached down to the floor and grabbed your sweater, hastily pulling it back on. "Shut up, Pen."

As your head emerged from the neck you saw your mom stood there, hands on her hips, "well, the least you could have done was lock the front door."

"Am I the only one completely mortified here?" Andy whined, hanging his head between his knees.

“Hey, Andy,” your dad spoke and he peered up at him, and your dad flashed him a wink, “in this family you gotta go some to embarrass yourself, trust me, son. Now, you wanna come for a drink or not?”

Still blushing red, Andy looked to your dad, "yeah," he murmured. "I just uh... Yeah."

“You don’t have to.” You looked at him. “It’s up to you.”

"No, I'm okay, I just, uh..." Andy scratched at the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm good, when we leaving?"

“Cab in fifteen?” Your dad asked, “honestly, Andy if you don’t feel like it-“

“No, I’d like to, it sounds great.” Andy cut your dad off with an assurance and a smile. 

"Good," he nodded and turned to head up stairs.

Your mom and Penny snorted as they headed into the kitchen, and you stole a glance at Andy before you just started roaring in laughter. Him not finding the situation very funny.

"Don't laugh," he shook his head.

“Why not? You should have seen your face! You tossed me down like an old sock!”

"I've never in my life been caught before," he groaned, clearly he was still mortified.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. If Dad was that bothered he wouldn’t have asked you to join him."

Andy stood and mumbled, "I'm starting to think my joke should have been a threat. Maybe I should keep my hands to myself."

You stood and pressed a kiss to his hot cheek, "behave tonight and do me a favor," you brushed by him, heading for the stairs, "have fun."

*****

Andy, still feeling slightly embarrassed by the whole situation, sat next to your dad as the cab headed towards the country club at which he played in the warmer months. He was explaining that this time of year, the club kept the links closed but everything else was a year round establishment.

“Hey, Andy, look…” your dad turned to him, a smirk on his face, “don’t worry about before, pal. I’ve been caught in far worse situations with the wife."

Andy quirked a brow, "I don't want to know but, thanks, I guess." He chortled with a shake of his head. "Pretty fucking embarrassing, Y/D/N."

"Let it go," he sighed. "These poor bastards will eat you up if you don't stay on tee."

“Already with the golf puns, I’m impressed.” Andy chuckled. 

"You can see where Bean gets her wit," your dad chuckled.

The cab pulled up to the club and Andy slipped out as your dad paid the fare. He took a look around at the wintery course, snow covered ground and holiday decorations around the club's entrance. Your father joined him and they set foot inside, heading immediately towards the bar.

“Listen, Andy…” he paused and Andy turned to look at him. “I don’t wanna bring this up, but then I kinda do but…” he took a deep breath, “I know you lost a lot, but I’m glad you came over for Christmas and I hope you’re feeling as, well, happy about it as Y/N is. I see it in her face, you know.”

Andy could tell that Y/D/N was scrabbling for words and, more to his surprise, he understood.

“No, I am. I got a lot of memories here, not all good but, well, I’m hoping to make new ones with Y/N and I’m grateful to you and Y/M/N for kindly hosting me.”

"You're welcomed any time, son," Y/D/N smiled.

And then the conversation stopped as they reached his friends and Andy was being introduced around the table as 'Y/N's boyfriend, Andy'.

He smiled, shook hands and then settled into his seat besides your dad, listening to the chat as it struck up, contributing when he was asked about himself in the usual way. 

A couple of hours later, the boys from the club, the 'Old Bastards' as Y/D/N continuously referred to them as, started peeling off one by one, heading home, but Andy and Y/D/N remained, eventually sitting alone at their table, talking.

“Oops.” Y/D/N tipped his glass up and examined it. “I appear to be empty. We should probably…” he hiccuped, “… call a cab.”

Andy looked at his own glass, the dregs swilling around and he raised his brows “do you wanna call a cab?”

“Fuck, no!”

"Scotch?" Andy suggested happily.

"Scotch!" Y/D/N grinned.

Andy headed to the bar, the two empties in his hand and traded up the bartender for a bottle of scotch, cashing out the original tab from earlier in the night. He returned to the table with the scotch and two low ball glasses, pouring Y/D/N and himself a drink.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much trouble will I be in with Y/M/N if I take you back totally trashed?” Andy asked as Y/D/N picked up his tumbler. 

"Ten, but you let me handle the missus," he snickered. "She'll just be pissed she missed out."

Andy took a sip as did Y/D/N and hummed as the stuff he'd bought was top shelf and good.

"You know, Andy," your dad started, "I think you've saved my little girl's life."

Andy gulped down his scotch, the burn on his throat white hot. “I don’t think I can really be credited with that…”

“She’s a strong girl. That I know but… when she stuck that pin into the map after everything and landed in Boulder, well, me and her mom we worried. A lot. Especially after… him.”

Andy nodded, he knew enough to understand the anger that resonated behind her father's eyes.

"That bastard hurt my little girl. She doesn't think I know a lot of what happened, but a father knows. It's like an instinct, you learn to read and understand your children, see things they think you aren't aware of." He sipped from his tumbler. "That bastard deserves what he got, I hope he’s rotting in hell. I just wish...well, I wish we’d really spotted what was going on sooner."

Andy just sat there, stunned for a moment as Y/D/N's words settled. He sipped from his own tumbler and nodded, before he gave a little hum, “well as a father myself, once, I get you. Totally. I did everything I could to protect Jacob. Didn’t work in the end but…”

"Hey, you're always a father, Andy, whether they're with you or not.”

“Yeah, true.” Andy nodded, taking a sip of his scotch, swallowing thickly, and waiting for the mist that had clouded his vision to clear. “Listen, for the record, I’d never…” he took a deep breath, “I’d never hurt her like that. Ever.” He raised his eyes to meet Y/D/N’s and the man smiled, nodding.

"I know, you seem like a good man, Andy. I'm happy that she's safe with you." He took a sip of his scotch. "She loves you, you break her heart and I'll kill you. She dumps you, she's outta the will." He chuckled, lightening the mood a bit. 

Andy took a sip of his drink, trying to form his thoughts as best he could. “I love her. It’s as simple as that. I can’t say anymore.”

Y/D/N gave a short nod and a wink, "to Y/N," he titled his glass towards Andy's.

Andy snorted and held his glass up before he paused “you’re not gonna tell her about this, are you?”

Y/D/N snorted. “Absolutely not, no.”

The two men sat and drank, finishing off almost the entire bottle of scotch before Jack the bartender had to cart them off in a cab for home, just as the snow began falling outside. To say they were drunk was an understatement, they were smashed. Andy pulled a hundred note from his wallet, paying for a less than twenty note cab ride, and handed it to the driver, happily telling him Merry Christmas as he slid out of the seat and attempted to balance on the icy sidewalk. Y/D/N caught him and they both hit the snow covered lawn, asses damp, bodies cold.

As they struggled to stand, the front door flung open and Andy caught a glimpse of not only Y/M/N but you too, standing on the porch, hands to your hips.

"Shhhhit," Y/D/N chuckled, a wheeze to his voice. "We're in trouble now."

"You're lucky I don't turn the damn hose on you!” Y/M/N scolded.

“Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time, love.” Y/D/N looked up and Y/M/N rolled her eyes.

“Get in here before Carolyn McBride calls the police."

“Oh no, not Carolyn the Curtain Twitcher!” Y/D/N turned to the house next door. “Hey, you nosey old bat, guess what? I’m-”

“Shut up, you drunk!”

Andy couldn't help but laugh as he tried to stand again, he and Y/D/N using one another as a crutch, fresh flakes of snow in their hair and beards, to climb the porch and unsteadily slip inside the doorway.

He glanced up and looked at you, and you simply looked back, a smirk on your face as you took in his inebriated state. “Good night, Counselor?”

"Excellent," Andy winked, leaning against the banister.

“I can’t wait to see how excellent your hangover is tomorrow, BB.” you winked, laughing as he stumbled up the stairs behind you. 

"I'll be fine," he told her.

But fine he was not. He spent the morning in bed, only slowly coming down the stairs at gone eleven to nip at some dry toast, take two aspirin and a huge glass of water along with his coffee.

"You should have woken me up," Andy mumbled, his hair messy from bed, his beard poking at odd angles.

"Baby, I tried. You were done," You smirked. "Eat up, Bongo's ready for his walk."

To your credit, you didn’t badger him. Merely left him to nurse his hangover in peace, although you did laugh a few times when he broke into fake tears saying he didn’t want to adult anymore and he was never drinking again.

He took a hot shower to wake up his body and slipped his Red Sox cap on over his head after dressing in jeans, a sweater boots and slipping on his wool coat. Still moving slowly, he met you downstairs as you latched Bongo's leash to his collar.

“Oh, Counselor!” You laughed at his face, “lesson one, never try and keep up with my dad! He’s an animal!”

"I had no problems back home," Andy sighed.

"It's the Old Bastards, they'll kill you every time." You laughed and kissed his cheek. “Come on, let’s see if the fresh air helps.”

The fresh air was a blessing. You walked for miles, taking in the nature reserve not far from your family home, watching as Bongo bounced in and out of the large snow drifts, barking as he went. Andy's face hurt from smiling and laughing, the cold winter air turning the tip of his nose pink. His ears were cold and he'd wished he worn a beanie, but his cap kept the heat from escaping his head well enough. He watched as you built snowballs with your gloved hands, throwing them for the three legged pooch to catch in his mouth. He watched as your hair bopped around as it sat on the top of your head, the way your breath would escape your lips and look like a cloud as it met the air. How cute you looked in your ear muffs, snow boots and leggings, a long sweater under your own wool coat.

Unable to stand it any longer he gripped your arm and spun you to face him, pressing a kiss to your mouth.

“You look so happy,” he smiled, pulling you close, “it makes me happy to see.”

"I am happy," you said in his embrace. "And you're looking less green."

He laughed, shrugging “I feel it.” He took a deep breath before he looked over your shoulder, not sure how to frame the question that had been bubbling in his chest since he woke. But, after another glance at her he realised he had to say it, whether you agreed or not. "Angel, I erm… would,” he sighed “shit, okay, erm, tomorrow, I wanna go to the cemetery to see Jacob.”

"Of course, go ahead. We don't do much on Christmas Eve, just a tapas dinner and that's about it." You replied, "you'll have plenty of time."

“Would you want to come with me?"

His question caught you slightly off guard, his voice shy, small and unsure. You couldn’t help your gaze as it grew wide, your bottom lip dropping just a bit and he hastily spoke again, "you don't have to, I just, uh, I guess I just want you too."

"Of course," you replied softly, genuinely. "I'll be there every step of the way." You stood on your toes as he bent down to meet your kiss. 

And then, as quickly as the kiss started, it was over, for Bongo leapt up at your legs, catching you off guard and causing you to stumble into Andy, the two of you falling into the freshly fallen, soft, white snow. 

"Damn it, Bongo!" You laughed as Andy braced your fall. 

Andy laid there for a second, and you giggled. “You know, your mighty fine ass has hit the ground on more than one occasion in the last eighteen hours.” And at that he laughed as you caged yourself over him, the snow soaking both of you. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and smiled.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," you bent down and pecked him before scooting off his body and standing, extending a hand to help him up. He took it and took more effort to stand than you could help with. He kept your hand in his as you rounded up Bongo, Andy taking lead on the leash as you headed back to your parents.

You reached the door, both laughing as you headed inside, happy but also slightly disappointed your afternoon in the snow had come to an end. 

"We should warm up, get comfy and nap," you suggested as you slipped your coat off and hung it by the door.

Andy unhooked Bongo and the dog shot off for his water and food bowls in the kitchen. "Sounds good to me,” his arms circled your waist, “napping is totally top of my list of priorities."

"For once," you snickered, kissing the underside of his neck. "I'll shower first." You patted him on the chest and started heading up stairs.

After warming up in the shower each, Andy made sure to make you extra warm as he softly brought you keening underneath him, quietly, not drawing attention to your room. Not that it mattered, given that Penny was out with friends while your mom and dad were still at the market, bless your father’s patience. 

After a decent nap, the entire family indulged in the meal your mom had made, Andy offering to help clean up with you. By the time you hit your pillows for the night, you knew Andy was ready to pass out, and you were amazed he’d made it that far in all honesty. 

The next morning, you woke to a soft kiss to the back of your neck, which caused you to stir. 

"Good morning, beautiful," Andy hummed. 

You turned in the sheets and sat up, blinking to adjust your eyes. "What time is it?" 

"After eight," Andy pressed a sweet kiss against your forehead, handing you the mug in his hand. "I'm going to shower."

"Okay," you said after a sip of your coffee. "What time did you want to go?" 

"Uh," Andy grabbed his change of clothes and toiletry bag, "whenever you're ready."

"Okay, when you're done, I won't be long," you told him. 

"Alright," he sighed and left for the bathroom across the hall. 

You watched as Andy left your room, the room you slept in as a child, with the now grey walls and a queen guest bed, your parents exercise equipment tucked into the far corner or in the closet. It felt weird to be home but it felt right too. You'd gone through so much to get to today, endured copious amounts of torture and pain, poised yourself to be in love with a man who would never truly know what love was or what it meant, only to find yourself happy and near healthy, living out your days in sunshine and for the most part, happiness.

In Andy, you had found someone you truly loved, and whom you felt truly loved you back. It scared you, but in the best and yet sometimes worst way. You hoped this was all real and not some fairy-tale that eventually ended, you prayed it wasn't a dream and that you'd wake up, still trapped in hell, starving yourself to make yourself sick just to get out, willing yourself to remain alive. Yet with each gentle touch, soft lips rolling across your skin, a warm body to press into on days where nothing bothered you at all, you were reminded that it was all your new reality.

If anything, today already felt like a slightly somber day, you were going to whatever Andy wanted, allowing him to take the lead on the day, wherever it may take you. If he pulled up to the cemetery and changed his mind, that was okay. If he wanted to just take a drive and end up wherever, you didn't mind. If he needed to be somewhere and thought to leave you home, that'd be okay too. You only cared about what he wanted and how comfortable he was. 

By the time you ate breakfast and were ready, the snow had started again. Dressed nicely in boots, denim, sweaters and coats, layers to keep you warm, you directed him to a local market, per his request to stop for some flowers on your way. 

You spent the morning walking round the little stores in the village, not far from your home. Andy chose a couple of miniature Christmas wreaths, just greenery really with a red bow and laid them in the trunk of the rental before punching in the address to the cemetery he seemed to have known from memory. He hadn’t said much, just held your hand as he drove, and you allowed him that peace, to gather his thoughts. 

The drive was about thirty minutes from your parents, a large cemetery outside the city, near the woodlands border. You recognized it immediately, your heart starting to race. As fate would have it, Andy's son and wife were buried in the same place as your villainous husband. You snorted quietly at the irony of it all and kept your gaze out the window. 

Where one would have turned left to go to where he led, Andy turned right and stopped just about ten yards from the main lane. He shut the ignition off and you heard him inhale a deep breath. You unbuckled and turned to him, "Take your time, we have all afternoon." You said softly, holding his hand in both of yours.

On the outside you were as supportive as you could be while on the inside you were a shaking quivering mess of anxiety, the waves of nausea being willed back by your mind.

Andy closed his eyes for a few moments, appearing to be getting a hold of his own emotions. You couldn't see his beautiful eyes, no doubt unsure and pooling with emotion, as they were covered by his sunglasses, but you could feel that tremble in his hand and you began to wonder if it were actually your own.

Then, he spoke, "I... don't know if I can." His words were broken, a whisper even.

"That's okay," you whispered back, taking a hand and reaching for the back of his neck, rubbing assuringly at his hair. "You don't have to Andy, but we're here if you want to. No one will think any less of you regardless.”

With final deep breath he turned to look at you, “I need to. Does that make sense?”

"Mmmhmmm," you nodded. "I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere."

He barely ticked his lips into a smile, a soft one that pulled at your heart. Somehow you knew, that he knew you wanted to give him this time alone. That you'd support him as far as here, but let him make his visit at his own pace, his own peace. You didn't want to overshadow his first time to see them in years by your presence.

His kissed the top of your hand and exited the car, pulling the wreaths from the trunk and he came around. With a thud, it shut, and you watched his back start up the small hill towards his destination.

As Andy disappeared out of eyesight, you let out a ragged breath you were holding deep within your chest. A sound even left your lips as you breathed out, a broken "oh" as you lungs shook in your chest. You felt sweaty and clammy, your body heating from the inside out as the air and space in the car around you began thickening and tightening. Shaking hands opened and pushed the door away as you inhaled that cold New England air, your body now vibrating in anxiety. You stood and shut the door, leaning against the car, fanning yourself as you bent downward, your head between your legs.

Slowly, as your breathing regulated, you stood to your full height. "Walk... I need to walk." You said aloud to yourself.

So you walked.

With your hands tucked into your coat pockets, you picked one snow dusted boot up off the ground and then the next. You knew where you were headed, you just couldn't stop yourself. It was like some sick and twisted auto pilot had turned on and you were meandering to a spot you'd swore you'd spit on the next time you could. But you stopped as your blood ran ice cold a mere fifty yards from where you had been headed.

You weren’t alone in your ‘quest’ to ‘visit’ Ransom. And really, you should have figured. It was Christmas Eve after all.

Your eyes scanned the less than tall man, with coiffed hair and a goatee as he stood next to the familiar taller woman, dressed impeccably with short white hair. A fresh wreath laid at the foot of Ransom’s tombstone, looking as if they'd just placed it there. You felt sick, like your breakfast and lunch were both going to rise up from the pits of your stomach and come up in waves as you heaved. You swallowed and turned to go, but it was too late, you'd been seen.

“Wow.” Linda Drysdale spoke from behind you, her voice loud and laced with disdain, “you.”

You kept walking but you could hear her after you, that shriek of a voice as she called you out. 

"How dare you show up here?” Linda shouted as she followed you. You willed yourself to shut out her shrieking, begging your body to listen to the instructions you were giving it. 

"Come back for more money, or are you here to mourn your husband, Y/N? To see my dead son?"

You took a deep breath of air as you reached your rental car, but as you fumbled for the keys, you dropped them. And by the time you had retrieved them she was there.

“He died, and you-“

“Look, I’m sorry…” You spluttered.

“Not sorry enough not to take all his money though, huh?” Richard looked at you.

“That’s all it was ever about wasn’t it?” Linda’s voice was venomous, "You gold digging, little bitch!”

The words spilled from your mouth before you could stop them, “fuck you, and fuck him."

The slap came before you could blink, your left cheek stung with the impact of her slap, head whipping to the right thanks to the force of her blow. 

"You ungrateful little whore." Linda spat.

Your eyes welled with tears as you blinked, your left hand resting against your cheek as you took a moment to fully understand what has just gone on. 

"Hey!” A familiar voice flooded your system and you could have cried in relief, “what the hell is going on?”

“You dare show your face…” Linda ignored Andy as she advanced towards you again, but she didn’t get far. Broad shoulders stepped between you and Linda, posturing as wide and tall as they could.

"Back off, now!” Andy spoke sternly and loudly. Your hand curled around Andy’s right arm as he stood in between you and Linda, his entire demeanour radiating annoyance. His left hand reached up, gently squeezing your fingers and you watched as Linda's eyes looked over Andy, starting with his hand and she scoffed, turning back to you.

“So not content with taking everything my son had, now you're after married men? You're a black widow, you know that?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Andy shouted. 

"Don't you talk to my wife like that," Richard jabbed Andy on the shoulder with his finger. Andy angrily slapped his hand away, before shoving Richard harshly on the chest, sending him staggering back a few feet.

"Ex-wife," Linda corrected, her eyes darting to the side as Richard stumbled.

With a glare of disdain, Andy turned his back on them and looked at you. “Honey, you okay?”

You gave him a small nod.

“Of course she’s okay!” Linda shrieked. “My son is the one buried in the ground and she’s living the highlife with all his-“

“Listen, you need to fahk off.” Andy drew himself to full height as he turned back to Linda, his voice was laced with anger. "Get the fahkk outta here."

 “Andy, I wanna go home, please.” Your hand contracted around his arm.

"Okay, get in the car," Andy visibly swallowed back his anger, his eyes not once leaving Richard or Linda. "I see either of you anywhere near her again, you're gonna be sorry."

You slid into your seat, Andy coming around to get into his own. You didn't even look back as he pulled away from the curb, nothing but the Drydales and graves in the rear view. Your breathing was deep, your chest on fire as you gripped the handle of the door, attempting to drag in deep, gulps of air

A few minutes down the road, Andy slammed the brakes and pulled off. You threw open your door and vomited before Andy could even get out. The anxiety far too much for your body as it went into some type of shock. 

Andy came around and helped you out of the car, you trembled in his arms. He looked your cheek over, a visible handprint there, he had no words, he just pulled you close and rubbed your back as you buried your face into his chest. 

"Hey…,” he kissed your head. “It’s okay.”

"I... I.... I...." You tried.

"Hey, hey, hey, Y/N, look at me," he pulled back and held your face in his hands, "I need you to take a deep breath, baby."

You gulped in air, your hands wrapping around each of his wrists as your chest shuddered with the strain of drawing in oxygen.

“I’m sorry…” you gasped, “I’m so sorry…”

"Breath, honey, just breathe," Andy tried breathing with you, "I can't help you if you don't breathe."

It took a bit of time and your face stung like hell while your lungs burned, the winter air not helping you any. Andy soothingly ran his large hands up and down your back, you feeling the weight of his presence despite your many layers.

“I’m sorry…” you stuttered again, your head dropping to avoid his gaze. 

"Sorry? She hits you and you're sorry?"

"You deserved that moment to be peaceful and I screwed it all up," your eyes pooled as they looked up at his. Your face stung terrible but your heart hurt worse.

"Jesus," you felt him pull you further into his embrace as you cried again. You stood there crying until you had nothing left in you, completely numb from head to toe and not just from the snow that was falling for the third time since your arrival. 

On auto pilot, Andy guided you back into the car and drove you home. He helped you up the steps and you didn't even bother when your parents spoke from the living room as you went upstairs and into your room.

Andy was at a loss, everything had happened so fast. He was walking back to the car and heard the confrontation, then he saw that hand come right across your face and he saw red.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out who the two people that had accosted you were, a suspicion that was proven right when the woman had continued to shriek things about her dead son and money. The fact that the woman was so brazenly doing so was enough alone, but knowing what he did about how Ransom had treat you made it all the more sickening, and the fact you had then felt the need to apologise to him for being assaulted…well, it broke his damned heart to see you so beaten and down.

"Andy...." Y/D/N quietly caught his attention.

He looked at the family sitting in the living room with concern.

“What’s going on?”

He sighed, glancing up the banister before stepping down of the bottom stair and took a step towards her family, "we ran into his parents at the cemetery."

“Ransom’s?” Your dad frowned, “did they say anything to you?”

Andy shook his head, "his mother was shouting at Y/N, I heard the commotion as I was walking back to the car and all I saw was her hand connect to Y/N's face." He glanced over his shoulder, drawing his eyes towards the second floor, "she's just shut down."

Your mom blinked. “She hit her?”

"Slapped her straight across the face," Andy's hands went to his hips and he shook his head. He was sick to his stomach and he was raging mad as hell.

Your mom jumped out of her chair, “fucking bitch.” She spat, “it wasn’t enough for him to do whatever brainwashing he did so that we had to sit there and watch her, disappear from our lives, they then put her through hell after his death!” She stalked to the doorway of the room and stood at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, Love…” Your dad hurried after her, hastily shushing her as she bellowed up the stairs, “leave her be, she needs time to just…”

“No, she needs to come down here so we can call the damned police!”

"No," you appeared at the top of the stairs.

“No?” Your mom blazed, “Linda Drysdale harassed you within an inch of your life for six damned months over her son's fucking death and money, and now she’s assaulted you and you want to just leave it be?”

You sat at the top of the stairs and Andy saw nothing but pain on your face, "yes. At the end of the day, they're just grieving parents. They're angry and I can't blame them."

“She had no right…”

“Mom, just leave it! Please!”

"Y/M/N," her father said in a warning tone.

Your mother's hands flew up and she sighed in frustration, "I hate those people." And she headed into the kitchen, Penny following.

Bongo hobbled up the stairs and sat next to you, his head in your lap as Andy stood, hands still at his hips, looking for something to do or say.

You gently scratched the dog behind his ears before you looked down at Andy and gave him a little shrug. “I’m sorry your day got ruined.”

Andy’s shoulders deflated as he let go of a deep breath, his lips curling into a frown. He hung his head, dropping his hands and took the stairs two at a time. "I'm more worried about you." He sat on the step below the landing.

He glanced down at your dad and the man gave him a nod, a silent understanding of sorts that he knew Andy had this handled and went after his wife.

You snorted and watched as your dad tactfully retreated out of the hall. You bit your lip and looked at Andy, a sad smile on your face. “When he died I got everything. The house, savings, car, sales from that… fucking book.” You swallowed and took a deep breath. “Given everything that happened with that family, well, it didn’t go down well.”

"Clearly," Andy snorted. "What did she say to you?"

You shrugged, “pretty much what you heard, which is the same as she’s said all along. That I’m basically a gold digging whore that married him with the intention of screwing him over for everything he had.”

His arm reached up and grazed the angry red mark on your face, "what were you doing out there?" His heart ached as he touched the heated print, his eyes softening as he peered at you.

“Honestly?” You sighed, “I was going to see him. Don’t ask me why, I’ve got no idea. I…I don’t have any explanation.”

The odds of it all falling the way it did baffled Andy. An unnerving coincidence of circumstances, Ransom's grave being at the same as his family's. "You don't need one, it doesn't matter."

“I should have just stayed in the car.” You shrugged. “But when we got there and I realised where we were I just…” you bit your lip, “I should have figured they’d be there.”

"Don't do that," Andy gripped your hand. "You didn't know. Hell, if I had known, I...we didn't know. I didn't know that's where he was and you didn't know they'd be there."

Again your scoffed snort hit his ears as he watched your eyes pool and redden. "Merry fucking Christmas. I just want one thing, one moment with you to not be burdened with my shit. You wanted me to come along and...."

“Stahp.” He said sternly. “Angel, this is not your fault and besides, I had a moment there. It was calm and peaceful and…” he licked his lips. “You didn’t spoil anything. And as for being burdened with shit, I think we’re pretty evenly matched in that department don’t you?” He finished, only half joking.

"Andy...." you sighed.

"No, don't Andy me," he spoke gently, "you know I'm right."

You sat for a moment, nothing to say before he nudged Bongo out of your lap and sat right next to you. He looped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body, his lips on your hair, "it's gonna be okay, Angel. You'll see."

He felt you shudder under his embrace as you silently started to cry. He held you, giving you the time you needed and when you calmed, he nudged your face to glance up at him. "Better?"

"No," you spluttered. 

He chuckled and kissed your forehead.

"Guys," Penny appeared at the foot of the stairs, "Mom said dinner is in about twenty minutes."

"Thanks, Pen," Andy rubbed your back.

"I'm gonna shower," you sniffed, sitting up and wiping your eyes.

"Okay," Andy nodded. "Take your time."

“And miss out on all the best food from Mom's buffet as you guys eat it all first?” You shook your head, “no chance.”

He smiled and watched you go, first into your room then across the hall to the bathroom. With a groan he stood up, cracked his neck and left you to it, making his way back downstairs.

Not another word was mentioned on the events of the day. Not between Andy and your family, not between Andy and you. After your shower, you joined them for dinner, taking your seat next to him after filling your plate. The mark was fading, but he didn't press you for anything else on the issue. And rather than sitting by the fire with your family, you retired to bed, no one pushing for anything else. Andy joined you after a much needed night cap with your dad and a shower for himself.

Your eyes met his as he came into the room from his shower and he took you in. You looked tired, worried and broken. Your eyes were red and he knew you'd been further crying. 

He sagged his shoulders and started climbing in bed, pulling you to lay against his chest. Andy ran his fingers through your hair and down your back, "Rest, Angel."

You squeezed your body around his, hugging him in a way, and much to Andy’s relief you were asleep soon after. He, however, laid there for a while, his mind whirring.

It was true what he had said before. He had managed a moment of quiet reflection, at the graveside of his late wife and son. He felt a sense of not necessarily closure but a feeling that it was okay to move on.

The last time he had stood at that graveside had been the day he left town. Then he’d been angry. Angry at himself, at the world, at Laurie for doing what she did, even though he insisted to everyone, himself included, that it was an accident. But today he’d felt none of that. He’d felt at peace, and whilst he would never get over the loss of his son, and maybe even not his late wife, he understood now that life went on.

That weighted band on his hand caught his eye as he rubbed along your arm. He looked down on it, the way it encircled his finger. Before Thanksgiving, he’d sat in his office contemplating about how that little circle of silver metal was a symbol to him that helped hold Jacob close, about how he wore it as a physical reminder and an outward display of the life he had as a father.

But, as he lay there in the dark, the more he thought about it the more he found himself wondering why. 

It was then he remembered what your dad had said just the other night. That he would always be a father, no matter if Jacob are with you or not. He would always be his son.

Andy understood his life was now. He was alive and living, and he didn’t want to be looking back over his shoulder at the past anymore. Jacob would still be a part of his journey forward.

With as gentle a movement as he could, so as not to disturb you, he pulled the ring from his hand, rolling it slightly in his fingers before he placed it on the nightstand. With a sense of wholeness, he closed his eyes, ready to sleep well into Christmas morning.

*****

Your sleep was restless that night. Whilst you had no out and out night terrors, you woke a few times from disturbing dreams and memories which ran through your mind. Yet, each time you woke, you were in Andy's arms. 

Andy. Jesus, yesterday was not how you'd ever imagined it would have gone. The confrontation with Linda was highly unexpected, and while your cheek no longer stung, a phantom feeling weighed you down.

You took a deep breath and snuggled into him further, not wanting to move just yet and you felt his arms tighten around you as your cheek brushed his sleep shirt.

"Morning, honey," you heard his gravely, sleep filled voice above you. The vibrations of his words echoing in his chest against your cheek and ear.

"Morning," you softly replied. His lips pressed to the top of your head and you let out a soft, contented sigh. “Merry Christmas, Andy.”

"Merry Christmas, baby," he replied.

You titled your head upward a bit as he dug his chin into his chest to look down at you. You rubbed your nose along his beard.

You heard the door to your parents room open, shortly followed by your dad’s curse about the damned dog lying on the fucking stairs again before his voice died down, and a bark from Bongo, somewhat muffled, signalled your dad had let him outside.

A little chuckle type giggle came out of you.

"That's my favorite sound," Andy quietly admitted.

"What? Dad's foul mouth?" You sat up, gently placing a hand to his chest to balance your weight.

“Don’t be silly,” he chuckled, quickly pivoting so you were underneath him. “I meant that giggle.”

"You know, I don't think I kissed you goodnight," you ran a hand over his cheek.

“No, you didn’t.” He shook his head. “And I’m deeply offended and hurt by that.”

You smirked, leaning up a bit as he bent down. You gently kissed the man you loved. That beautifully, handsome understanding man. If anything, he was your greatest gift.

You gently raked your nails over his whiskers before you pulled away. Your eyes softly bore into his blues.

"I love you," you whispered.

“Love you too, Angel.” he muttered against your lips before he kissed you again. The lazy kisses became lazy touches, which then became a lazy morning make out, which led to the inevitable.

The way he moved over your body was soft, gentle, assuring, careful. He whispered soft praises as he quietly brought you to bliss and your body responded pleasantly, his finish after yours. He stilled and stayed within you, caressing you and kissing you, loving on you.

“I could stay here all day.” You sighed as his nose gently ran along your jawline and Andy chuckled.

“As appealing as that sounds, think your parents might be slightly pissed if we skipped dinner.”

"Room service?" You joked.

“Oh, yeah why didn’t I think of that?” He laughed, as he gently pulled out of you and rolled to his back, “excuse me Mrs Y/L/N, could you perhaps bring Christmas dinner to us so I can stay naked in bed with your daughter?”

You scoffed and chuckled. “Worth a shot.”

Andy shook his head as he scratched lightly at his chest with his hand and that was when you noticed.

His ring.

It was gone.

"Andy..." you ran your finger over the pale white circle around his finger.

“It was time…” he said after a pause, before he shifted onto his side and looked at you. “You know, we keep saying no reverse gear yet I’ve had the biggest tie to my past resting on my finger this whole time.”

“I don’t…” You blinked, not really sure what to say or how to react, but you realised this was his decision, a huge step he wanted to take towards healing from his past so you licked your lips and smiled. “As long as you’re sure.”

Andy nodded. “I’m sure.” He took a breath and looked at you, smiling softly. “I love you, and I want to look forward to our future, not back. I realise now, Jake will be with me no matter what, I don’t need that ring to keep reminding me of him.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but found yourself momentarily stunned by his admission and you felt your eyes fill.

"Oh," Andy softly chuckled, "don't cry, Angel." His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your cheek bone.

“I’m sorry, I just…” you took a deep breath and shook your head, “I don’t know what I am, actually!”

“Well, I know that I’m hungry. And want to give you your Christmas gift so…” Andy shrugged, “let’s get up and go join everyone downstairs.”

“Perfect.” You couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face. 

Andy kicked his legs over the bed, and you just stared at the nice ass he possessed. Smugly smirking, you watched him slip into his discarded sleep pants. He turned to face you, totally busting you mid perve and he raised his eyebrow.

“You know, if I looked at a woman like that on the street I’d be called a pervert.”

You shrugged. “Well, lucky for me we’re not in the street.” 

“Touché, Angel,” Andy chuckled, leaning over to give you another soft kiss. "Touché.”

****

Chapter 9

[mittensmorgul]

For anyone interested in long-term residence in the supernatural fandom, please have some observations I’ve made over the decade I’ve been here. Take it or leave it as you will, but I’ve found all of this info useful over the years I’ve been here.

I wrote this yesterday, and it achieved its mission of identifying the sort of folks who would react negatively to it (i.e. a lot of block lists have been updated), so now that it’s been edited for content, it’s going under a cut (because that is how we do things on tumblr in general, unless we have a deliberate purpose for annoying readers with excessively long text posts) for the sake of people who actually do care about the fandom and its history. If that’s not you or your reason for being here, then keep on keeping on with your own thing, I guess. For those who are interested, there’s a lot of fandom resources some of us have been building for years that you might enjoy knowing about.

First off, I’ve been informed by a few friends who’ve read through this for coherency’s sake that it sort of reads like a *shakes cane from porch* fandom grandma complaint, but honestly... I earned this rocking chair and goshdangit imma rock now. So apologies for any “back in my day” vibes or faint aroma of tiger balm this post might give off. Then again, it’s loosely based on a similar post from 2012 so like... time is a flat circle anyway I guess.

1. There is no such thing as “tumblr famous,” unless you’re referring to the hilarious and delightful fic of the same name (please go read it, you will cackle). Posting Hot Takes for imaginary Clout™ on this site is kind of pointless in the long run. Sure you can post solely for the sake of stirring shit and getting notes, but the majority of the folks who do aren’t long term residents of the fandom. They’re just tourists moving through our little beach town for spring break. If you’re actually intent on moving to this corner of the fandom for an extended stay, please bother to really feel out the permanent residents and understand the culture and general mood of the neighborhood. It bears no resemblance to whatever’s going on across town where all the bars and beach parities are happening, and those loud, drunken revelers are, again, gonna disappear back to their regular lives or on to the next party eventually. That doesn’t mean the fandom is dying, it’s just evolving.

(funny how I had several comments implying that I’m just trying to keep the fandom from evolving with this post, because I sincerely do want the fandom to continue on for years to come, and that is impossible without evolution. We can evolve without self-immolating, though. mostly i included point 1 for an excuse to push ancient but hilarious fanfic on you.)

2. Once you post something here, it’s been unleashed to the fandom winds. You never know where it will end up, or who will comment on it or add to it. Remember that time Misha tweeted the link to the Epic Cockles Love Story post? No? It was wild. That was 2012. They all know we’re here, and how to find us if they want to. Please don’t take it to their doorsteps.

Obviously if someone is being a dick on your posts, please feel free to block them, but the whole entire point of this site is to engage people with your posts. Being big mad that someone reblogged your post with comments or supporting evidence, or happy headcanons or “HECK THIS IS GREAT BECAUSE (insert personal story about their experience or whatever else made them Feel Things about your post)” is frankly ridiculous. If your goal is to avoid any sort of engagement with your posts, then maybe try instagram instead. From what I understand, there is a SPN fandom presence there, and nobody can tarnish your original posts with unwanted commentary. But the ability to reblog with additional commentary is a FEATURE of tumblr that builds community through conversation. Otherwise we’re all just talking to ourselves in a vacuum, and that’s what actually kills fandoms.

(and for the folks who just want to blog how they want to blog and don’t want people to engage on their posts at all, please feel free to block anyone you want, as well... nobody wants to step on your toes, but most of us also don’t want to walk on eggshells wondering if this post is one of the “do not add comments for any reason” sorts of posts, either. This is a huge fandom and most people can’t even begin to keep track of every creator and their url du jour, and what their personal rules might be regarding interaction with their content. Including a “please don’t add comments” note at the bottom of your posts-- and not in your tags that won’t even show up on reblogs, but in the actual body of the post-- would sincerely help avoid any awkward or unwanted interactions, too. At the end of the day, you are in control of your own fandom experience and the block button exists.

For the record, I block zero fandom blogs (which is why I posted this, I wanted it to reach a wide scope... refer to the opening paragraphs as to why).

3. Since this post was partly inspired by a tag I left on that post going around about how “previous tags” mean fuckall on this site (which you can read here), just a reminder that if you like someone’s tags or feel they add value to the post, part of the Peer Review structure of tumblr encourages you to PASTE THEM INTO A REBLOG. If you do this, then at least credit the person who actually wrote the tags! Don’t just copy someone else’s tags into your tags on your reblog of the post without credit either. They were not YOUR tags. (I have had this happen to tag rambles I wrote and someone else got credited with them on a subsequent reblog and it is FRUSTRATING). Just... don’t even bother to write “previous tags” because WHAT PREVIOUS TAGS?! Nobody is gonna bother to chase back the chain of reblogs trying to find where the mystery tags came from, friendos. That way lies madness.

(for the record, since some folks seemed to focus on this point solely, writing “previous tags” on a post isn’t inherently a BAD thing, but for anyone who actually is here for more than one-off shitposting, then it’s sort of a pointless thing in the long run. This wasn’t intended to suggest people who ARE here for one-off shitposting are bad or “doing it wrong,” but for people who might actually want to preserve that hilarious joke or insightful comment. People delete posts and entire blogs all the time around here. Links break. I get that the upcoming generation just shrugs at that and moves on with their lives, but heck... you don’t have to accept that all entertainment is disposable if you don’t want to. There’s a bizarre sort of nihilism plaguing us all about the impermanence of pretty much everything that feels like something we should be fighting against rather than buying into wholesale, even in our escapist entertainment. I’m just exhausted by the complete loss of joy in community.

*shouts from the peanut gallery* IT AIN’T THAT DEEP, JUST GET SOME FRESH AIR AND LOOK AT A PUPPY OR SOMETHING

Yes... yes it isn’t really that deep, but bigger picture in the state of reality we’re all entirely disillusioned with, are we supposed to just give up on everything, including the things we cling to because they bring us a tiny spark of hope that we’re not all just trapped in this dystopian nightmare and things might actually be worth living for?

*peanut gallery clinging to burnt husks of peanuts in a barren peanut field* but this is how we have chosen to cope

Okay... you do you... I feel bad for you but if that’s the case then this post is NOT FOR YOU. AND THAT’S FINE. I honestly do not care if you don’t care! I mean, I’m sorry anyone has to live in a world that drives them to that mindset, but I understand. This post is for anyone who might look at their lives and their choices and think “no wait, I unironically enjoy this and want more from the experience of that enjoyment than I’m currently feeling.” Everyone else can continue with their lives as usual.)

4. CONTENT THEFT IS NEVER OKAY. PERIOD. Things like “credit to the artist” or tagging gifs or images you found on pinterest as “not mine” isn’t actually credit. If you can’t source an image or gif set, DO NOT POST IT! We don’t REPOST (i.e. save an image and then create a new post with it as if it was our own creation). We REBLOG (click the little square arrows and reblog from the actual creator). That goes for gif sets, fanvids, screencaps, meta, fic... everything.

(hopefully everyone here already understands this one, but I felt compelled to include some “these are stupidly obvious” reminders anyway, since this is ostensibly some sort of advice column. This is the equivalent of the warning label on your toaster reminding you not to use it in the bath. Like... duh...)

5. Close kin of item 4 is SOURCE YOUR SHIT. 

(for 100% disclosure purposes, I specifically discussed this one in this specific way because of an influx of anon ask messages I received in the wake of the finale. Literally the inciting incident for creating this entire post was what I can only assume was a joking ask about a comment Misha made at a con years ago. Someone actually bothered to take the time to type out those sentences to me. I have no idea what they were expecting in reply, or what could possibly motivate them to send this comment about something so entirely random from, again, several years ago. Just a joke? No idea, but whatever... it got me thinking that there might actually be people who are new to the fandom who MIGHT actually care about the fandom history, and maybe they just don’t know where to go for that info, or how to even begin searching through 16 years of history for things they might actually find enjoyment in, rather than just hauling random out of context garbage out on main and pointing and laughing about it now. People are actually allowed to care about things. It’s not cringeworthy to actually care about things, and you are not alone in actually caring, and there’s this whole big room over here full of people who are thrilled to share in that with you. This post is intended FOR THOSE PEOPLE SPECIFICALLY, so if that is not you, please just continue walking by.)

Yes, I know lots of y’all are new around here right now, but dredging up stuff from years ago that fandom has completely debunked and presenting it as TRU FAX again is just exhausting. We’re not trying to be party poopers, but seriously, we have seen it all and are mostly done with extinguishing bags of flaming dog poop on our front porches for the umpteenth year in a row. I’ve seen a lot of posts that have the same tone as “I saw Goody Proctor dancing with the devil” or “I heard kylo ren has an eight pack” and just... the information is there for anyone who cares enough to find it.

This goes double for “why is nobody talking about this thing I just discovered while watching the show for the first time?!” And, oh hon, we have talked it all into the ground over the last fifteen years. We’re happy you’re discovering it again, but I promise we talked about it plenty when the episodes originally aired. We have such a rich meta history that lots of us have worked really hard to preserve. I encourage you to seek it out, if nothing else than as historical artifacts. The way we have discussed the show has been a 16-year evolution. People have written literal doctoral dissertations on this show. Your shitposts are fun! We love reliving our own experience through fresh eyes, and seeing your wonder at experiencing it all again for the first time! But y’all didn’t invent this fandom in the last six months, either.

Meta Sources and Minerals provided by our friendly neighborhood fandom archivist, @lets-steal-an-archive

Academic books and articles about SPN 

A collection of Meta Essays going back to s1 and organized by topic (all of this has happened before, all of it will happen again)

SPN Heavy Meta Archive (s1-3)

Mel’s Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-12)

Oranges8hands Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-15, with many similar entries to Mel’s... though ymmv on viewpoint in a lot of these too)

Anyone remember Fandom Wank? Not the concept but the actual LJ... No? Okay have a link to SPN topics that ended up there. Through 2013. We have seen so much... including several fandom containment breaches.

for all your art sourcing needs, please see @theroadsofararchive, the repository for so much fandom art.

need to find a gif of something? canonspngifs is a vast repository of gifsets of the entire series. If the gif you want to use in your post happens to be the first gif in the gifset, in the tumblr gif finder thingy just paste the permalink to that post from canonspngifs (which is easily searchable by episode, character, location, situation, quotes, and sometimes even color and clothing items the actors are wearing... it’s really well organized, especially for tumblr >.>) and the first gif will be automatically linked with credit to the gif creator attached. It makes life easy that way. It’s also convenient when trying to remember something specific but can’t remember what episode it’s from. I’ve used the site to jog my memory before going to the superwiki armed with more specific search results to find episode quotes and references. Or sometimes I just scroll through all the nice gifs for fun, too.

Need a screencap of something and know exactly which episode it’s from? Try Home of the Nutty. You might not find the exact screencap you’re looking for, but they have a complete set of caps of every episode, and it’s an incredibly useful resource for quick reference checks and the like. Just give pages a chance to fully load before clicking on the next one. The site is easily overloaded, but it’s still free to use (and again, with credit... Pretty much every screencap on my entire blog is from HotN unless otherwise credited).

As you can see, this is a fandom built on preserving our history. You absolutely are not required to engage with any of this if that’s not of interest to you, but I can only assume that there are people who would be interested in it if only they knew it existed and how to find it. Well, now they do.

6. A few more notes on tags, and how they work on tumblr. The first 20 tags on your ORIGINAL posts are searchable sitewide, so if you want to be able to find something again, tag that thing first before going on general tag rambles. The only place tags on reblogs are searchable is on your own blog. So you don’t have to put 50 tags trying to get a post seen if it’s a reblog. You’re just spitting into the wind at that point. If you have a filing system for finding things again, then by all means add those tags (again, in the first 20, so they’re searchable), but you don’t need to tag a reblog “destiel” and “deancas” and “dean” and “cas” and “dean x cas” or whatever. Pick one for your personal blog’s filing system, that’s all you need.

(this was only added because tagging and searching on this site is so very broken... I get that a lot of folks don’t care about ever searching their own blogs again for anything, so this one only really applies if you do often find yourself trying to find old posts. If not, then it’s not really relevant.  It took me years to work out a decent tagging system, and at the beginning of my time here I never thought I’d end up camping out here for a decade and falling this deep into the fandom, and I regretted my lack of consistent tags only years later when I realized I actually wanted to be able to go back and find specific old posts again. So... for anyone who wants to err on the side of caution, working out a sensible tagging system really helps if you’re here for the long term. I personally tag content by episode, because some of my other general tags are so large as to be practically useless as a search term. But whatever system you choose to file stuff on your own blog, it really only has to make sense to you. And again, if this is pointless advice for someone who has no intention of settling here for the long term. Please feel free to ignore it. I just wish someone had explained it this way to me ten years ago and saved me the hassle of retroactively tagging something like 30k posts... especially now that using the mass tag replacer is the fastest way to get your entire blog deleted... oops? so yeah, don’t use the mass tag replacer either >.>)

7. Tags on Tumblr DO NOT WORK LIKE TAGS ON TWITTER. If you @ someone in the body of the post, it will show up in their notifications (if they’re the sort of person who even checks their notifications... not all of us do. For the record, I generally don’t...), but putting actor or ship names in the tags on a tumblr post does absolutely nothing. It’s not the same as tagging the actor’s twitter account in a tweet. Nobody’s getting notifications about you tagging a post about Jensen here as “Jensen Ackles.” There is a difference. Please learn it. (and don’t take headcanons and ESPECIALLY RPF or otherwise explicit art or fic from tumblr to twitter and tag the actors in it. That’s just... not okay.)

(I have seen the pearl clutchers getting all in a huff about the mere existence of RPF or even explicit content of fictional characters if it doesn’t meet their purity standards, but tagging those things allows people who don’t want to see it to actively avoid that content here. Nobody has a right to tell people their fictional content shouldn’t exist at all, or that creators of that fictional content somehow deserve harassment or threats for having dared to create such “immoral” content, won’t somebody PLEASE think of the children... and no... you do not do that here. Don’t be the problematic behavior you wish to ban from the world. Learn to use tags to protect yourself from, as i have attempted to emphasize here, fictional content you are personally upset by. That’s a you problem, not a problem for the creators of potentially upsetting content that they tag appropriately for.)

8. General formatting stuff: If you’re writing long text posts, visually break them up so people aren’t faced with one long wall of text. The enter key is your friend. Also, if you put long text posts under a Read More break and send people to your blog to finish reading, please ensure that your blog is actually visually accessible (tiny text, or light grey text on a dark grey background, or a visually busy background might be aesthetically pleasing to you but nobody can actually read it. Loads of folks won’t even try. Which is great if you don’t actually care whether people are able to appreciate your content or not, but something to at least consider if you *do* actively want to encourage engagement with your work. Confirm how your blog looks on both mobile and desktop and make sure it’s actually functional in both, too).

And since I mentioned that most of my experience on fandom tumblr has been in the SPN fandom, here’s a bit of a reminder for folks who are new around here. With the reminder that I have been here more than a decade and still feel like a newbie myself sometimes...

This is an OLD FANDOM. There are many, many people who have been at this longer than some of you have been alive. The average age for creators in this fandom is older than you think (I think of my friends in their 30′s as young’ins okay? okay). With that understood, you are responsible for the content you consume and are exposed to. Curate your experience. Ship and let ship. YKINMKATOK. Don’t deliberately expose yourself to content you find upsetting for whatever reason. Tags and warnings are your friends, not targets for you to attack in some sort of purity war. People will ship things you do not like (or in specific ways you do not like), will say things you do not agree with, and will find their happiness in things you abhor. That is not your concern. Find what you do like, and support and engage with it, and ignore (or block, or unfollow) the rest. Tumblr has a feature that lets you blacklist tags so the content you’re trying to avoid won’t appear on your dash.

Remember the paradox of tolerance.

It is not your job in fandom to police how other people enjoy the fandom. It’s not *my* job to police how *you* enjoy the fandom, UNLESS your enjoyment is in actively harming other real human beings in the fandom. If you don’t like their take on the character or the show or the plotlines or their ships or anything else, you don’t need to engage with their posts at all! The necessary corollary to this is that clarifying misunderstandings or correcting factual misinformation is not “policing.” 

(this is where the peanut gallery reminds me it ain’t that deep, and I plead with them to put down the social media and find just one (1) thing to actually believe in in this godforsaken life, find something other than disdain and cynicism and spite to live for. If those things motivate you to find a larger cause for yourself, then great, use them to your advantage, but use them to find something that makes you a better person or brings you a modicum of joy and connection to your fellow human beings despite living in a dystopian hellscape of a world)

I have seen a lot of posts lately that are founded on the sort of authority that comes with “I watched through tumblr for a few months and then watched the last three episodes of the series” and as such are just... missing the larger context of the entire show, and are unfounded entirely in canon. I 100% appreciate the new enthusiasm for the fandom that we’ve been living in here for years, and it’s wonderful to see new people enjoying the thing we love. Your headcanons are valid, you are valid, but recognize that your headcanons aren’t canon. All of us finale denialists have accepted this in some measure, so we feel you. We truly, truly feel you. But regarding actual canon, we have a resource for that: the Superwiki. Learn it, live it, love it, as Metatron would say.

(which you could discover he said in 10.17 Inside Man, thanks to the superwiki! accept no substitutes!)

(and again, there have been people who have been involved in fandom for years who haven’t engaged with canon in years, either! You can play in this universe however you choose, BUT FOR PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT CANON AT ALL, WHICH I AM AGAIN POINTEDLY SAYING MIGHT NOT BE YOU, READER, AND I’M NOT SUGGESTING YOU ARE WRONG FOR NOT WANTING TO ACTUALLY ENGAGE WITH CANON, but if you DO want to engage with canon, please have some useful resources. Why do people feel personally attacked by being presented a list of helpful resources? Absolutely baffling.)

(also: words have definitions. “Canon” is a specific thing, meaning in this case “the finished media product that aired on television.” Anything beyond those limits is secondary canon (think: john’s journal, which is not canon but canon adjacent at best...), word of god (i.e stuff said by the writers and showrunners), or headcanon (which includes actor commentary-- they may have helped create the show with their acting choices and whatever, but they are not in control of the story overall). If there’s something you dislike about actual canon, you can reject it and supplement it with your own theories or preferred outcomes-- that’s basically what fanfic is-- but that doesn’t make your theories canon (much to all our dismay, that’s just not how any of this works. This is not to invalidate how anyone engages with the show or the fandom, just trying to clarify what seems to have been a source of unintentional misunderstandings. Your theories do not have to be “canon” to be legitimate interpretations.)

***I am setting this section apart, and did make a separate post of just this following information, because this is where we go from being relatively chill about different parts of fandom choosing to interact in different ways and you do you and blog however you want, to “hey can everybody please understand that the way you are interacting with this specific material might be harmful for specific legal reasons, and stating that you do not care about the consequences of your actions does actively make you the asshole here...” Okay, now that we have that understood:

The spnscripthunt collective has been steadily acquiring new scripts (which are posted in full on the superwiki for everyone to enjoy, for free). The language around how some folks are talking about these scripts is... concerning. For very real legal reasons, actually, and not because we’re feeling precious about the collection and don’t wike it when meanies use them in shitposts.

-First off, these scripts are not “leaks.” They are all verified and legally purchased (or gifted, in some cases, but still acquired entirely above board. we didn’t whack anyone over the head in a back alley for these scripts, or swipe them out of someone’s trailer on set).

(in case anyone was unaware, these scripts are the copywritten protected property of Warner Brothers. So yes, how we use them and share them with the fandom could have legal repercussions. We present them as a collected resource of fandom history which SHOULD fall under Fair Use doctrine, but this is untested legal water. Insinuating that the scripts are somehow not entirely legally obtained, or that posting them for public access involved less than 100% transparent and entirely legal transactions is incredibly concerning.

Once again for the peanut gallery, if you don’t care about any of that and are just having a good time with it, at least be mindful of the work and expense a large group of people have gone through to acquire and present the content you’re all too eager to exploit for cheap thrills. Some of us do actually care and are not exactly comfortable with the fact that others don’t seem to care about burning it all to the ground. We can’t force you to listen or behave as we’d hope you might, but at least be aware of the potential consequences of your actions. All we’re asking is for you to not be the douchebag who sets the whole neighborhood on fire with your illegal fireworks display. Is that too much to ask for? more on that in a second, first... a psa)

-If you see a script for sale and are unsure if it’s legit (or believe it might already be freely available in our collection), please feel free to ask us for advice. Our goal is to make as much of our fandom history available to the entire fandom, and we absolutely do not want anyone shelling out money for stuff you can already find for free.

(seriously, we’ve seen a bunch of resellers cropping up selling printed versions of the scripts we bought and uploaded for everyone to enjoy free of charge, or scripts that are otherwise of dubious origin. We’ve been at this for years now and know what’s actually out there. We don’t want anyone to fall for a scam if we can help it)

-Also, the usual reminder that the scripts we acquire ARE NOT NECESSARILY THE FINAL SHOOTING DRAFTS. In fact, the majority of scripts in our collection are NOT. Changes are made daily to scripts, even during filming. Comparing a Production Draft (white pages, effectively the first “final draft” of what usually becomes a series of drafts before filming wraps) to a much later revision (say... green or goldenrod revisions, several of which we DO have in our collection for comparison) and how those earlier drafts often differ wildly from the aired version versus how similar a much later green draft is to the aired version, for example, can teach you a lot about the television writing process. The link above to the superwiki scripts page has a nice little explainer about how this process works.

Differences between our posted scripts (many of which are white drafts, aka FIRST complete drafts, which will likely go through multiple rounds of revisions before filming even begins) and the aired version of the show are not all “acting choices” or a director or editor just cutting whole scenes on a whim. It’s insulting to everyone involved in production to suggest that’s the case.

(and yeah, fine... whatever, make any sort of posts you like regarding how those changes came about, but at the very least understand that it’s not actually the truth about how any of this works. Don’t care that that’s not the truth and want to make the posts anyway because shitposting is fun and that’s the extent of your sense of humor? FINE! You’re entitled to do that! But at least you DO know the truth now, and hopefully so do the people who engage with your posts. Deliberate ignorance isn’t cute, smooth lions notwithstanding)

There’s probably a whole other post to be made on fandom tagging etiquette, but again I don’t really use the tags enough to know what’s going on with that whole situation. I’ve also probably left a lot of stuff out, so please feel free to add things I’ve overlooked.

Thanks also to @trisscar368 and @thayerkerbasy for help compiling this, too. They were kind enough to escort me through the park to feed these pigeons. Now I need to take them out for ice cream. :’D

So I guess welcome to the neighborhood. Make yourself at home, but like... try not to trash the place while you’re here. Some of us live here by choice, lol.

[arvinsescape]

Fight the good fight

Summary: You’re doing an interview for an upcoming movie and get treated with less respect than your male co-stars and they aren’t having it.

W/C: 1.9K

Warnings: Mentions of stress eating and struggles with food.

A/N: Please note that i have in no way intended for this to come across in a negative way in terms of weight. I have struggled personally with stress eating and i understand the unhealthy relationship that you have with food in the end and that is what i am talking about. I think everyone is beautiful, no matter what size or shape you may be, it’s what’s on the inside that counts!

You’d been in the spotlight for a long time. You’d started your acting career at the age of seven and had a really successful career. You were 23 now and had naturally moved into more adult themed films. You’d been really lucky to be cast alongside Tom Holland and Timothée Chalamet in an upcoming thriller. You were playing Holland’s love interest who ends up getting stalked by Chalamet’s character. You were really lucky that you got on so well with the two, the theme of the film could be quite difficult, and it was good to be able to have a laugh with your co-stars afterwards. During filming you’d developed a special relationship with Tom, you’d had to do a lot of scenes together that required the two of you to spend a lot of time with each other and getting to know each other inside and out. You’d gotten closer and naturally a real-life love relationship happened.

You were doing press with your co-stars and you’d been in interviews all day. To say you were tired would be putting it lightly. The day hadn’t gone so bad, some interviews better than others. You’d gathered this as soon as you turned 18, the questions shifted from being about the film to being about you and tended to be quite sexist in nature. You’d learned to deal with it over the years and some interviewers weren’t so bad, you’d not put up with it too much today. You were hoping that this final interview would run smoothly, and you could get into bed, cuddle up with Tom and sleep the night away.

“I can’t wait for this last interview; I love my job, but press can be so tiring!” Timothée said as he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. You were all sat in position, waiting for the interview to start, you were situated in the middle of them.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to get back to my hotel room.” You agreed.

“Do you guys wanna borrow some of my energy, I have loads spare.” Tom laughed; he was always the more energised of the three of you. This pulled a laugh from both of you as the interviewer started. He seemed nice enough, but you’d been sat there almost five minutes before he actually addressed you.

“So Y/N? How did you find getting to play alongside Tom Holland and Timothée Chalamet?” Here we go. Although you didn’t mind answering questions like this and they were quite tame in comparison to some questions, it was more the fact that at this point both Tom and Timothée had been asked more direct questions about their parts in the film and you hadn’t. You hoped this wasn’t going to go in the direction you thought it was.

“Yeah, it was amazing! They are both lovely guys, it was an honour.” You answered in a polite manner. Maybe you were tired and read too much into the question.

“So did you diet for the film Y/N?”

“Not really.” You laughed, not entirely sure were this was going.

“Did you work out at all?” Again, where was this going?

“Not really. Not more than I usually do.”

“Well I just thought maybe you had been doing. Your legs looked great!” Here we go. You cleared your throat before you answered.

“Is that what you took away from watching it?” You teased, trying to keep the interview light-hearted.

“Well no. But it certainly was a standout feature of yours.” The interviewer laughed. Tom and Timothée didn’t, they knew how much questions like this annoyed you and it made them feel uncomfortable. You were here to promote a movie.

“I’ll remember that for my next film. When the director says he’ll pay a load of money for a dialect coach, I’ll just tell them not to bother. People will be more interested in my legs than my acting!” You answered in a jokey manner, this pulled a laugh from your two male co-stars.

“No no! I mean your acting was amazing Y/N, don’t get me wrong! But I feel like a good body deserves a compliment, that’s all!” The interviewer tried to joke, this made you uncomfortable.

“Timothée your acting was amazing but maybe you should have worked out more with me, your arms looked smaller than mine.” Tom joked as he too tried to shift the attention away from talks of your body. Timothée quickly catching on as he feigned upset before laughing and flexing his arm.

“You wish Tom, you wish.”

The interview continued on and whilst you got no direct questions about your acting or your role the attention wasn’t on you or your body. Until it was.

“So Y/N? You’re 23 now, right? Have you thought about having a family?” You groaned at the question.

“Yeah, I want a family but when the time feels right.”

“Of course! You wouldn’t want to prematurely end your career I suppose?”

“Why would that end my career. Loads of actors have children and carry on acting.” You fired back. You really hated this question because you could guarantee that if either of the boys were asked this question, it would not be followed up with insinuations that it would be career ending.

“Well not many women.”

“If you believe that, I’ll assume you’ve not done much research.” You shot back. You were visibly annoyed now, which didn’t go unnoticed by the males either side of you.

“I don’t think Y/N has to answer that! She answered your question about a family so maybe we should leave it at that, yeah? It’s Y/N’s life and I think she should be left to live it as she wants.” Timothée defended you. The interviewer shrugged but left it at that. Tom had tensed slightly at the exchange but ultimately kept quiet. That wouldn’t last long as the interviewer brought up his next question.

“Y/N? You have had a struggle with food I’ve read?” The question threw you off guard, yes, you’d recently been open about your battle with stress eating and your unhealthy relationship with food, but you weren’t prepared for the question. Usually you were prepared beforehand, and the interviewer would tell you if they were bringing it up, it was sort of a requirement of yours. You glanced at your manager off screen who looked as shocked as you felt.

“I’m sorry I don’t understand the question. It’s not relevant to the film that I’m here promoting.” You answered carefully.

“No, no of course but you seem to be doing better now than you were a few years ago.” He pushed. Tom tensed further, he knew about your past struggles, and how much talking about it unprepared upset you. “There was a period of time where you were quite big.”

“Erm. I’m really sorry but do you have any questions about the film? I’m not comfortable talking about this.” You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, Tom’s hand shot out to your thigh in comfort, he knew you were getting anxious.

“I was just wondering if you had a problem with that part of your life. You know being bigger?”

“Listen. It’s not that at all. I have no issue with people’s weight, if that’s where you’re trying to go. I’ve talked about this and I absolutely believe that people should be whatever size makes them happy, we are all beautiful just as we are, and I genuinely believe that. What I talked about is the dangers and struggles I had with food. Yes, I was bigger, but my issue was not with my weight, it was with my unhealthy relationship with food and what I was doing to myself through that.” You answered, you felt frustrated, uncomfortable and you were beyond tired now, just wanting to get out of the interview. You took a deep breath before you spoke. “Look, can we just move away from this?” You pleaded.

The interviewer threw his hands up in defence. “Alright, alright. I was just asking.”

“You weren’t, though were you?” Tom’s voice startled all of you. “You were trying to make it sound like she has an issue with bigger people, which as she has spoken about extensively, she doesn’t. You were pushing her into answering a question she didn’t want to answer. You brought her weight up for no plausible reason, I think it’s you who has the problem with bigger people, if I’m being honest. So what she was bigger? She looked as beautiful then as she does now, as all women do. It’s because of people like you that women struggle with body image and it’s not fair, it has to stop.” Tom ranted as his face went red, he was annoyed you could tell that much. Your heart soared that he was defending not just you, but all women.

“You have been consistently rude to her. I don’t think I’ve heard a single question directed at her that was to do with the film. I hate that men like you think it’s okay to ask women these sorts of questions. You commented on her diet and working out as well as her intentions for a family and if it would harm her career. Why? I’ll tell you why. It’s because she’s a woman and you think it’s okay, you seem to think that she doesn’t deserve the respect of being asked the same questions that men do. It’s not right and it needs to stop, she has worked just as hard as us to make sure this film is as good as it can be and she deserves the respect, as all women do.” He finished as he grabbed your hand, stood up and left the interview. You in tow, completely in awe of him.

“Yeah man. Do better.” Timothée said as he followed, leaving the interviewer shocked and humiliated.

Tom took you backstage. He dropped your hand and took a deep breath before turning around to face you.

“I’m sorry I jumped in like that. It’s not that I don’t think you can handle it, I’m just so sick of men like him. I know that you can handle people like that, but you shouldn’t have to and that was the point I was trying to make I guess.” He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s alright. I’m happy you did. Thank you. it’s nice to know that women don’t have to fight this fight alone and yes, I could’ve handled it but in a way I’m glad it annoys you as much as it does me. I think it will be important for the younger women in your fan base to know that you stick up for women and hold them equal to men. It’s an important message.” You said as you hugged him and kissed his chest. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“It just makes me sad that you have to put up with this kind of thing.”

“I know. But hopefully we can make a change. We need to keep fighting the good fight.”

You stayed like that for a while before pulling apart and making your way back to your hotel room. It’d been a long day, but you were glad you had your co-stars there to defend you. Glad to finally be snuggled up in bed with Tom.

[edda-grenade]

Sleep.

Adaar and Solas attempt fadewalking for the first time.

#feral verse, 2000 words. on AO3.

They were lying on a hilltop in the forest, on a fur to keep the cold of fall at bay. Well, Adaar was lying down—Solas had sat up to give her a curious look.

“You wish to leave?”

“No! I mean, yes, kinda—maybe—I don’t know.” She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“You seem very happy, here,” he said, in that slow, careful way he had.

“I am! I am. I don’t want to leave my family, or this place, or you—”

“Me?” His voice cracked, just a little. Adaar glanced at him from between her fingers.

“Yes, obviously. I know you like to pretend you’re some lone wolf apart from all living creatures or whatever, but you’re my friend, alright? You’re not getting out of that so easily.”

“I don’t—pretend…” He sighed, his skin staining with blush, the faint freckles even fainter. His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile, until he gave up and his mouth crooked. Adaar loved it when that happened. She was pretty good at making it happen, too.

“You do not wish to leave, but?”

Now she sighed and clamped her hand over her eyes again. It was easier in the dark, unwatched.

“The world is so big and so full of things I don’t know,” she said softly, “and I want to learn everything.”

“Adaar…”

She hadn’t figured out if she loved that yet—the way he said her name sometimes, how he looked at her. Like she was the sun coming over the horizon, or a thunderstorm in the distance, or the wind dancing through the fields so hard it sang. At least that’s what she imagined the expression would look like on her face—an expression that was meant for immense and somewhat unfathomable things, not for a single person.

“There is a way I could show those things to you. Not all of them, of course—but more than what is accessible to you right now.”

Adaar sat up so quickly her head spun a little.

“I’m listening.”

He explained, and her head continued to spin, although for different reasons. Lucid dreaming, delving into the Fade like into a cave, how the deeper you went the older the memories imprinted upon the Fade would be…

It sounded ludicrous. Like magic, if she had never heard of it before. It sounded amazing.

“Can we just do that?” she asked. “Right now?”

Solas gave her another weird look; his eyes wide and searching for a brief moment.

“I—yes. Come with me.”

They left the little barren hilltop that poked above the forest behind and instead descended into the small cave Solas had chosen as his resting place. She’d tried often to convince him to join her family at the settlement, but he’d steadfastly refused every time. It didn’t bother her as much anymore—the cave looked more and more like an actual home these days, with a fire pit and cooking tools, shelves he’d carved out of the rock to hold utensils using a spell she hadn’t quite figured out yet herself, and a warm, dry place to sleep.

Solas had a ball of light bobbing in the air above his shoulder, and gazed down at the bedstead. It was cozy: a pallet of hay covered in cowhide, with a blanket and fur to keep warm in winter. It was also not nearly big enough for both of them. At least not if they intended not to share breathing space.

“There’s a bigger bed at home, you know,” Adaar said. “Actual walls and a door, too.”

“I would prefer to try it here. I have set the requisite wards quite often, and I’m familiar with the peculiarities of the Fade in this place.”

She shrugged, glancing around at the runes and sigils he had marked into the walls of the cave. “Yeah, makes sense. I’m just saying, you can get familiar with the farm, too. There’s space for you, it’s not a problem.”

“I’m aware, since you keep reminding me so diligently.”

“It keeps being true.”

She smiled a little at how that statement made his ears dip and his head turn away so she wouldn’t see his face. He cleared his throat.

“I have never… attempted to teach this to anyone else.”

“Because you didn’t want to, or because there was no one you could teach it to?” She hesitated, thinking of his arguments with Lavellan's Keeper. “Or because no one wanted to learn it?”

He let out a low breath. “All of the above,” he replied quietly, “at one point or another.”

Adaar slapped her hands together to resist the urge to hug him, then clapped her palms briefly onto his shoulders because not touching him at all was even more frustrating than being shrugged off. “First time for everything. How do we start?”

Solas showed her how to set the wards—they’d talked about spellwork like it before, but mostly in abstract terms. It took a good while, because she kept stumbling over new questions, like how specific a ward could be, how permanent, how big a space it could cover… They were halfway into designing one that might be used to keep beetles out of the grain, until they managed to get back to the task at hand.

She settled on the bedstead with crossed legs while Solas puttered about by the fire pit and brewed a concoction he insisted wasn’t tea to help them fall asleep. Then she got up again and started pacing, as much as was possible, because her legs were too jittery to sit still. She was just glad most of the cave was high enough that she didn’t have to stoop—she halted, gazing at the stone close above her.

“Solas, did you shape the ceiling, too?”

“What do you mean?”

“The rock here has a different texture.” She reached up to touch it and closed her eyes, searching for that low echo of past magic—and found it. “And it’s been worked with magic.”

“…A little. It is not your fault you are so tall.”

A smile bit into her cheeks. “Aw, that’s sweet.”

“It was a practical consideration,” he muttered, but he didn’t sound like he was actually put out. “You insert yourself into others’ spaces inevitably, it was only a matter of time until you would find your way into this one.”

“That almost sounds like a criticism.”

“An observation. Foremost.” He handed a steaming cup of the not-tea to her, then sipped from his own. She breathed in the smell—chamomile, juniper, and something spicy she didn’t recognize—then exhaled a bit of frost across it to cool it down before taking a sip.

Solas was watching her when she looked up from the cup.

“Something wrong?”

“No, it is simply… nice, to see how certain magic has become easier for you.”

“The frost? Yeah, I barely have to think about it anymore.” She blew a puff of snow into his face to demonstrate. Solas startled, grimacing, and wiped the rapidly-melting crystals from his cheeks.

“Sorry,” Adaar said, very earnestly. “Couldn’t resist.”

He shook his head and grumbled something in Elvish, but he was smiling again. That small, helpless, trying-not-to smile. They finished their cups, put them aside, and regarded the bedstead again.

“I shall take the fur, next to the pallet,” said Solas.

“I thought the point was to fall asleep more easily? And to sleep more deeply?”

“Yes.”

“Then why make it harder on yourself? We just gotta… scrunch up a little, it’s gonna be fine.”

There was a long silence.

“I am not used to sleeping among other people,” Solas said finally, his tone even. He wasn’t used to other people—flesh-and-blood people, that was—in general, Adaar suspected, but she kept it to herself. Right now was probably a bad time to bring that one up.

“Alright, no spooning then,” she said instead and sat down and stretched out along one side of the bedding. Then she remembered she had to get rid of her shoes, untied them, and hucked them against an empty wall. Lying down, the scent of lavender became obvious amid the hay and fur; sprigs had been stuck to the corners to keep bugs away. She’d told him about that trick months ago.

It really was cozy; warm and inviting. She curled onto her side, drawing her feet up, and patted the mattress next to her. Slowly, Solas joined her, folding himself up so he took up even less space than usual. It was still a tight fit, especially since he tried to avoid any real contact beyond the brush of fabric.

“I will attempt to find you once we are dreaming,” he said. “With our current physical proximity it should be an easier task.”

“There’s really nothing else to it? We just fall asleep?”

“It is… difficult to put into words. Question your dreams, if you can. The key is to become aware—awareness begets agency, which in turn begets control.”

Adaar tugged the fur and blanket up to cover them. “Alright. Sleep well?” There was a flash of a smile on Solas’s face before he closed his eyes.

“I shall see you soon.”

It was not soon. Adaar’s mind refused to quiet, anticipation thrumming in her limbs. She kept shifting, unable to relax, and she worried she’d spend the entire night sleepless, when she finally woke up again to a dark, quiet cave. 

She must have fallen asleep at some point, then? So was this the Fade? It didn’t feel different. She was sleepy and bleary-eyed just as she would be when waking up in the middle of the night, and a cursory examination of the cave with a bit of conjured light—a spell that behaved no differently than any previous time she’d used it—told her it looked exactly as it had when they had bedded down. Except…

Solas lay tucked against her front, his body warm, his breathing even. His temple rested against her collarbones and his folded legs leaned against her hips. He was curled up as he’d been before, but now it seemed less about making himself smaller, and more about fitting into the curve of her body.

Adaar stared into the darkness. That was… unexpected. Solas didn’t seek out physical contact. Sure, he usually melted into it for one or two seconds when it was offered before pulling away, but nothing like this.

Cautiously, she tried to brace herself on her elbow to get a better look, both at the cave and at him. She bit down on a sharp inhale when pins and needles erupted in the limb, breathing through it with care until the sensation passed. But even on a thorough second look, nothing changed. The cave was still the cave, nothing remotely immaterial about it, and Solas still slept soundly, curled up against her.

Part of her wanted to wake him up. Let him know it hadn’t worked, at least not yet, and try to figure out what might be changed, because merely the thought of consciously walking in the Fade was enough to make her heart beat faster.

But he looked so much younger in his sleep. His features softened and relaxed, like he might actually be at peace. Adaar wasn’t sure she had ever managed to catch him this unguarded. When they were together, it felt like he hardly stopped watching her.

She let out a small sigh and settled back down, gently wrapping one arm around his waist. Hopefully that wouldn’t upset him, if he woke up before her come morning. Right now at least, a soft, sleepy noise slipped from him, and he rolled even more thoroughly into her embrace.

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

In Session

This one is a doozy. Warnings: m/f sex, over stimulation, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, male masturbation, cum eating, use of mutant abilities in a sexual situation. 18+ please!

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The three of you have been home for a couple of weeks now and, unfortunately for poor Bucky, the pixie dust has worn off. All Steve has to do is breathe near you and you go off. He has apologized and apologized but you refuse to let it go. Steve tries to be patient with you. He accepts that what he said gutted you. He is trying to make it up to you but you rebuke all of his attempts.

Quite frankly the whole thing gives Bucky anxiety. As soon as he hears “You know what, Steve?” He reaches for the antacids. In two weeks he was leaving for a semi long trip with Sam and Nat. He needed to set you on the path to healing before he left you two alone. That’s why he hijacked you both and brought you to his therapist.

Dr. Coleman is far more gentle than his VA therapist. She specializes in PTSD and has worked with many first responders and members of law enforcement. She also helps couples to reacclimate following traumatic experiences. Bucky thought that, with the amount of trauma the three of you had suffered, she would be perfect to help.

Neither of you were pleased to be there. The doctor spoke ok Bucky’s behalf at the start of the session. “Steve, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re here. This is an important first step on the path to healing. You are here for each other as much as you are here for yourselves. What we know is the three of you love each other very much. I would like you to keep that in the front of your minds as we go through this journey. I do have a few ground rules. First, we will not raise our voices or become physical here or at home. Second, we will not resort to name calling. Third, we will not shut down when confronted. We will speak on our feelings. Can I gain your agreement on those rules?” You all nodded. “Wonderful. I just need the two of you to sign some consent forms and we’ll be on our way.”

You hated therapists of any kind. You never had a good experience. Grant it, your only experiences were forty something years ago. You were sure there were advances. Still, you were wary of this woman. She does seem to help Bucky. If this is what he needed, you’d do it for him. When she asked Steve to speak first you nearly gagged.

“Steve, tell me why you think we’re all here today.”

He sighed loudly and spoke in a monotone voice like he was in trouble in the principal’s office. “We’re here because our bickering is upsetting Buck.”

“Ok. Can you tell me why you and Y/N have been bickering so much lately?”

“Because he’s impossible to live with.” You said not so under your breath. Steve was quick to react but Dr. Coleman stopped him.

“Y/N, you will have your turn to speak. Please give Steve the courtesy of having his time uninterrupted.” Steve smirked at you. You wanted to reach over and slap him in his smug face but Bucky rested his hand over yours.

“We’re bickering because I said a horrible thing to Y/N and she refuses to forgive me.”

“Right. And what did you say?” Fuck it was like pulling teeth.

“I told her in the heat of an argument that I didn’t want a whore for a wife. But I said I didn’t mean it and that I was sorry. She refuses to move on.”

Dr. Coleman listened to both of your sides and gave you some short term and long term goals. She asked you to open the door for better communication. She understood why you were so upset, especially since his admission was premeditated. She tasked Steve with finding a way to come to terms with what you do. Now that he knows why he feels the way he does, it is time to confront those feelings as his own and stop projecting them onto you. She also suggested that, while Bucky was gone, the two of you should do couple things. Your love was not linked exclusively through Bucky.

The three of you left feeling a little lighter. You made promises to each other and you intended to keep them. The couple of weeks leading up to Bucky’s trip were fine. There was something hanging in the air that made Bucky nervous. Like you two were just waiting for him to leave so you could unload on each other. Steve promised he wouldn’t make faces when you left for your appointments. You promised not to snap at him over every little thing. He didn’t believe either of you.

The night before he left, Steve fell asleep on the couch. You were already in bed half asleep yourself. It was rare when you had alone time. When they were in deep Avengers mode, you cherished your privacy. Maybe it was time to start thinking of getting a bigger place.

Bucky came out of the shower still warm and a little damp. He smelled like cedar and fresh rain. He dropped his towel and slipped under the covers. Compared to him your skin felt cool when you pressed your bare ass against him. “You’re so warm, daddy.”

“I needed that hot shower after the training session Steve and I had. I wore him out.”

“Mmmm. I bet you did. Did you fuck in the gym again?”

His laugh rumbled against your back. “Not this time. Should I go wake him?”

“No. We haven’t had a moment alone since he moved in. This is gonna sound disgusting but I kind of like it when you’re sweet with me.” You didn’t have to say anymore. He slid his hands under your arms to palm your breasts and pressed gentle kisses along your neck and spine. With his knee he parted your legs so he could stroke your warmth. You whined in his mouth when he ran your slick over your clit. He took his time pumping his fingers inside of you coaxing tiny whimpers and moans out of your body. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

You had never called him Jamie during sex until you told him you loved him. His name falling from your lips became his favorite sound. You invoked him like you were invoking God praying for peace. Your cunt fluttered and squeezed his cock bringing you both to your end. “I love you, Jamie.”

“Oh my…I love you too, baby. I’m gonna miss you so much.” He stayed inside of you keeping his spend deep inside of your channel and fell asleep. Sam would be there early.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Your calendar was pretty full the first week Bucky was gone. Most of your appointments were during the day. Steve was back and forth between the apartment and compound. You settled into a pleasant routine like a normal couple with typical careers and predictable schedules. You even got through a meeting when a realtor without a single clenched jaw.

“Do you have time for lunch?” He was so hopeful. You promised Bucky.

“Yeah. I think so.” He took your hand and held it all the way to a cute little spot down the street. “I like this neighborhood. Not far from the subway. Walkable.”

“I like it too. I’ve seen a ton of kids out and about.” That made you want to cringe but you held it in. None of you have had the cliche conversation about your futures. Since you were the only one who could bear children, you figured you should speak up.

“Do you want kids?” You kept your eyes on your salad.

“Yeah. I really do. Have you um, been checked out? Can you have children?” God this was awkward.

“I can. I wonder if Hydra has successfully bred a serum baby. Like, it altered our DNA. I wonder what would happen.” His brow furrowed. He really hadn’t thought about that.

“I will have to look into it. That’s something we need to know I guess. Why do we feel so weird around each other?”

“Right?!” You were so glad he felt it too.

“Are you ever going to forgive me?” He asked so quiet and quickly that you almost didn’t hear.

“Before I answer that question can I ask a question?” He nodded. “Why are you ok with me having your babies but not being your wife? I know in therapy you said it scared you and you didn’t care for my clients. I get all of that. Those are valid things. I can’t help but think you don’t like the optics.” That was the million dollar question. Could Captain America be out as polyamorous? You felt like Steve might be a closet Republican. Most of the republicans that were your clients were the biggest freaks.

“There’s nothing our media team can’t spin. I’m not embarrassed by you and Buck. My reasons for disliking your job are exactly what I said. I feel like being out about our relationship puts a target on your back.”

“But that’s not what you said, Steve. You said ‘I don’t want a whore for a wife’. That implies something completely different. I like what I do. Those rich assholes and politicians put money in my purse. A lot of my clients are like us. Freaks of nature. They can’t have normal relationships. I help them. I don’t judge their abilities or physical mutations. We just fuck and they feel normal for a while. Like the guy I’m seeing tonight. He just wants to feel normal.”

Steve was quiet for the rest of lunch. You gave him a lot to think about. He had no idea you saw yourself as a freak of nature or that you saw him that way. Everyone celebrated what Steve was but essentially threw you away. The people on your client list who he saw as villains have been tossed out by the society he swore to protect. He guessed he jumped the shark a bit by even bringing up marriage. Not like you were there yet.

You and Bucky seemed to have a don’t ask don’t tell policy regarding your situation. That was not Steve. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew without a doubt that you were safe. Tonight he will follow you. If he ever wanted to move passed his own feelings, he had to know.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tonight you were seeing Erik Lensherr which meant you had to be prepared for anything. He never beat you like other idiots did. He wasn’t stupid. Why hit you when it doesn’t hurt? He liked to really bring you to the brink of pain with pleasure. Sometimes he edged you for hours. He loved when you were a drooling sobbing mess begging for relief. That’s what turned him on. After sessions with him, you always took the following day off.

You and Steve had dinner together. You were both much more relaxed. He sat in the bathroom while you got ready. You picked a dress and made sure to have lots of mascara on. Mascara tears were Erik’s favorite. While you put on your jewelry, he stood behind you and kissed your shoulders. You missed his touch. You leaned in and let him put his hands on you.

“You look beautiful, honey.” he said against the back of your neck.

“Thank you. Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow? We can stay in bed all day.”

He smiled that beautiful sunshine smile at you that made your insides liquid. “Really? Does that mean you forgive me?”

You giggled, “No. It means I want to get reacquainted. Forgiveness is not so easy for me. Maybe if you ever put a ring on it, I’ll forgive you.”

“I’ll take it. Will you be out late?” He kissed his way down your neck.

“I’m not really sure. If I know I won’t be coming home I’ll text you. I wouldn’t wait up.” You allowed him to really kiss you. My lord Steve Rogers is an amazing kisser. He is confident and strong in his movements. He kisses with his whole body. Hands roam your back and and shoulders while he presses your body into his. His eyes barely close, making his lashes flutter on the tops of his cheeks. And he softly moans which drives you crazy. Well, at least Erik won’t have to warm you up.

“I love you. Be safe. Call me if absolutely anything is off. Promise.”

“Yes, sir. I love you, too.”

He gave you a thirty second head start before he followed you on his bike. You met Erik at a beautiful brownstone. He held the door for you and kissed both of your cheeks. Steve saw him pour you a drink and direct you to the sofa by the small of your back. You looked comfortable enough. It was clear the two of you were friends. Then, he sat next to you. His movements became predatory. He always kept his hands on you.

Soon he was taking your drink and leading you up the stairs. It was the moment of truth. He could walk away satisfied that you were safe or climb the fire escape to watch. The thought of seeing you in flagrante was turning him on way more than he should have been. Option B it was.

He climbed to the second story where he sat stock still in a darkened corner. The window was cracked a bit so he could hear everything.

The two of you kissed passionately. Erik’s hands found your zipper and made quick work of shedding your dress. He pushed you to the bed which was decorated by an ornate metal head and footboard. He raised his hand and part of the bed broke off bending around your wrists to bind you.

“Too tight, Princess?”

“No, sir.” Next he attached a spreader bar to your ankles springing your legs open wide. “Color?”

“Green.” Your voice was steady but your breath was heaving in your chest. Steve wondered if it was nerves or excitement.

Erik knelt beside you and stroked your face. “How many times shall I make my Princess cum tonight hmm? Shall we try for six?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He produced a string of metal balls from his pocket and popped them one by one into your mouth. His lips were on yours again. His tongue moved the balls around your mouth clacking them on your teeth. When he was satisfied with their saturation he pried your mouth open with his thumb and removed them. He parted your folds and sunk the balls into your dripping hole one by one. His fingers danced swirling the orbs inside of your cunt. Your back arched off the bed. “Does that feel good, Princess?”

“Yes , sir. So good.”

“Excellent. Princess, I want you to count out loud each time you come. I will edge you for one hour if I don’t hear you.”

“Ah! Yes, sir.” The coil in your belly was building. Erik smiled down on your writhing body. You tried to bring your thighs together but the bar was made of steel. Unless you focused you couldn’t break it.

“Look at you. I bet if I touched you even a little you would cum.” He ran his index finger lightly over your clit and you fell apart.

“One! Oh my…one.” You moaned and that beautiful sound went right to Steve’s cock. He stroked himself outside of his pants at first. He wanted to last as long as you. It would be difficult.

“Good girl. That’s my good, Princess. Doing so well.”

He kept the balls swirling while he licked a stripe up your cunt. His lips closed over your clit. Your hips bucked wildly against his face. You threw your head back against the bed and screamed, “Fuck! Two!”

He pressed the pads of his fingers over your clit and rubbed furiously. “Three” you whimpered.

He smacked your pussy hard. “Didn’t hear you, love.”

“Three, sir.”

“You getting tired on me? You have three more. Color, darling.”

“Green, sir.”

“Oooh. She’s being a warrior tonight. Give me one more in my mouth and I’ll take two on my cock.”

“Yes, sir.”

He went back to licking your snatch. You were sonsensitive. His big hands held you still while he licked and nibbled. Steve leaned on the railing panting. He couldn’t take it anymore. He unsheathed his throbbing member and wrapped it tight in his fist.

You got to four and tears started streaking your face. Erik pulled out the balls and tossed them aside. You mewled at the emptiness in your pussy. Erik undressed. When his cock was free he ran the leaking tip around the hole pushing in ever so slightly. The stretch made you cry out.

“So wet for me. You’re leaking and I haven’t even pushed all the way in. Do you want more?” You nodded so he pulled away. “Use your words or you won’t get to cum.”

“More please, sir. I need it.” He slammed into you letting his pelvis hit your clit hard.

“Was that five, my darling?”

“N…no, sir. M’so close.”

“Give it to me.” His hips pumped faster and faster. You screamed and nearly arched yourself in half.

“Fiiiiive. Yellow, sir.”

“Oh you feel so good around my cock. One more and then I’ll paint your belly and tits.”

Steve pumped his fist in time with Erik’s hips. When you came the sixth time, so did he. Hot ropes of cum dribbled onto his hand. He kept stroking while Erik finished.

“Think you can go for seven? It would make me so proud.” You were much too sensitive.

“Red! Red red red.” Erik pulled out immediately and jerked himself all over your belly and breasts. Out of breath he fell over onto the bed next to you. You looked wrecked. With a wave of his hand your wrists were free. He undid the spreader and kissed you deeply.

“Water, Princess?”

“Yes, please.” He brought you a glass and held it to your lips. He tossed you your dress. You didn’t clean yourself up. That was part of the scene. You went home still sticky with his cum. Steve was feral at the thought of licking another man’s seed off of you. He made it down and onto his bike before you got to the door.

You took your payment and kissed Erik goodbye.

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Steve made it into the house moments before you. He changed his clothes and acted like he had been home all night. His heart thumped loud in his ears when he heard your keys in the door.

“Hey, honey. Didn’t expect you so early.” You patted him on the head as you limped into the bathroom.

“Need a shower.”

“Can I join you?” The thought of cumming again nearly made you cry.

“Yes, but only to shower.” He jumped up and followed you. You shook out your hair and went to unzip your dress but his hands were there already.

“You look so pretty right now. All fucked out. You were such a good girl tonight.” Every nerve in your body prickled. He kissed down your neck and the top of your spine.

“Steve, did you follow me?” Your voice was low. Your expression unreadable.

“Are you mad? I just wanted peace of mind. I got a lot more than that. I’m not saying I’ll be ok every time. But, if I’m honest, I’ve been thinking about licking that cum off of you.” Your whole body went warm. A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips as you edged down your dress.

“Did you like what you saw, sweet boy?”

“Mmm. Very much.”

“Did you make yourself cum watching us?”

“I did.” He ground his hard cock into your ass cheek.

“I’m so sticky. Clean me up before we shower.” He knelt in front of you and licked all of the dried cum off of your belly. “Mmm. Good boy.”

“I need to be inside of you so bad. Please can I fuck you?”

“Please fuck me, Steve.”’ He brought you into the shower and soaped you up. After the two of you were clean he kissed you fiercely. He lifted your hips and drove into you. “I can’t wait until Jamie gets home so I can tie you to the chair while he fucks my brains out. Wanna watch Jamie fuck me, sweet boy?” He moaned loudly.

“Yes, ma’am. Wanna watch him pound this pretty pussy.” It wasn’t long before you both lost it.

You got into bed and stretched out on his chest. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I had no idea I would like that.”

You giggled, “We learn something new about ourselves every day.” You both completely passed out.

The next morning Bucky got home early. He was shocked that Steve wasn’t already up. He found the two of you sleeping soundly. He nearly cried at how content you were. Steve opened his eyes and pressed his finger to his lips. Bucky got undressed and crawled in behind you. He pressed a kiss onto your shoulder and laid an arm across your back. He and Steve laced their fingers together.

“Did you make up?” He whispered.

“Something like that. It’s a long story.” You stirred a little.

“Jamie?”

“I’m home, baby doll. Go back to sleep.” He kissed you again and pulled the covers over you.

“K. Steve’s a kinky freak.” You buried your face into Steve to shield you from the sun streaming in from the curtains.

Bucky raised an eyebrow and smiled. Steve kept his eyes closed. “What the fuck happened?”

“Get some sleep. I promise we’ll show you later.” He kissed the back of Bucky’s hand and fell back to sleep. Bucky forced himself to close his eyes. He couldn’t imagine what was going to happen but he couldn’t wait to find out.

[sk1fanfiction]

the many faces of tom riddle, part 2

 -you dislike frank dillane’s portrayal of tom riddle only because you don’t think he’s attractive-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION (and this time, featuring a bit of armchair child psych from a student).

Wait, don’t clutch your pearls just yet. Compose yourself.

I am about to explain why it’s not actually that bad, and Dillane’s portrayal is vastly underappreciated.

I definitely agree that his portrayal comes off as ‘creepier’. It’s not helped by the stylistic decisions in the scene -- the smeary, green filter gives the scene a sinister quality. 

Even Slughorn looks suspect here, which is somewhat appropriate, given that he is complicit in this crime. 

Again, this scene is very much intended to be slightly off.

You’ll notice (and I’ll discuss this again when I talk about Coulson’s portrayal) that Dillane is almost always shot from at least slightly below, which makes the lower third of his face look bigger (and thus more menacing). The lighting also makes his eyes glow in a really unnatural way. There’s an echo-y effect to make his voice (and not Slughorn’s) sound unnerving.

People talk about how Coulson would have looked in this scene, and if he was filmed in the same way (monotone, smeary/shadowy filter, and always from below), he’d look a bit creepy, too.

But all of this, imo, is for a pretty good reason. Slughorn isn’t the POV character. Harry is. Harry is learning about how a young Lord Voldemort wheedled the secret of Horcruxes out of an unsuspecting teacher. Unlike in COS, he expects Riddle to be evil. And, so, Harry’s new perception of Tom Riddle literally colors how we perceive him.

Take this shot, for example: he does that head-tilt thing that Coulson does, and it’s actually... kind of... cute???

Imagine Dillane filmed from slightly above, like Coulson usually is, and it looks even more innocent. (I mean, come on, he does not look like he’s killed four people, does he?) It’s not hard to imagine teachers being taken in by this kind of act.

Even that little smirk he does when the camera (aka, Harry’s gaze) pans in, is for Harry’s benefit. No one else noticed that. 

However, I still fail to find this creepy, like, at all. Yes, it’s a fake smile, but he’s portraying a different side of Tom Riddle to Coulson. Whereas, in COS, he’s in his vindictive, murderous element, where he’s free to express himself, in this scene, Tom Riddle is doing what he does best -- manipulating and managing appearances. 

This entire scene is an act. And because Harry knows it’s an act, it should look a bit stilted. 

From the Hepzibah Smith scene in the books: Voldemort smiled mechanically and Hepzibah simpered.

So, Harry is pretty adept at parsing Tom’s fake expressions.

But just look at the expressiveness in his face: he goes from brooding, he blinks, and his entire face changes to this charming (fake) smile. 

At the risk of sounding elitist, I’m a bit tired of seeing the word ‘psychopath’, which is not an actual medical diagnosis recognised by any psychological or psychiatric institution, being tossed about, especially with reference to Tom Riddle (and from a neuroscience perspective, it’s doubly annoying). There’s no such thing as ‘insanity’ or ‘psychopathy’ or being ‘crazy.’

-although I use it too a shorthand in conversation to distinguish ‘canon’ Tom from his ‘softer’ OOC counterparts, I really shouldn’t-

Unfortunately, I’ve seen the ‘psychopath’ comment used time-and-time again as an excuse or a full explanation of ‘why Tom Riddle went evil’ (JKR in fact, has made a weird comment in an interview, basically saying that ‘psychopaths can’t be redeemed or learn adaptive coping skills’ or whatever), which really just goes to show the lack of understanding and compassion when personality disorders, especially, are concerned.

But what I like most about the opening of this scene, actually, is that first, listless expression. And this is where we get slightly into headcanon, but Tom Riddle is the opposite of a happy, mentally healthy teenager. By Dumbledore’s own admission, he has no real friends. He has no parental figures, no real attachments. Yes, he might derive some pride or enjoyment from being good at magic and top of his class and all that, but I really don’t think even Tom finds that truly fulfilling. There is nothing that makes him happy. 

In fact, although some might perceive it as ‘creepy’, I think that listless expression is an accurate window into Tom’s psyche. 

I know people aren’t big on Freud, but I think that he does make some interesting points (also, cut the guy some slack for being relatively open-minded for the Victorian Era, and inventing psychoanalysis and while yes he did say some sexist stuff, good luck finding a field of science that isn’t male-focused and makes crazy generalizations about women, especially back in the day) about the possible origins of thanatophobia, the fear of death.

According to Freud, thanatophobia is a disguise for a deeper source of concern -- he did not believe that people were capable of conceptualizing their own death to that extent. Instead, he believed that this phobia was caused by unresolved childhood conflicts that the sufferer cannot come to terms with or express emotion towards.

Now, I know Freud almost always attributes mental distress to childhood experiences, but I think in this case, it really has some merit.

According to attachment theory, the basis of how we form attachments in adulthood is dictated by learning it from experiences with caregivers in the first two years of life. We know Tom was born in an orphanage, and that he didn’t cry much as a baby, and subsequently, probably received very little attention. Compounded with possible genetic factors and his caregivers being afraid or wary of his magical abilities, he later struggled to form attachments because of this -- I would actually go so far as to say that by the time Dumbledore meets him, Tom Riddle is severely depressed. 

And that flat affect and anhedonia, I think, comes over very well in Dillane’s portrayal. There’s kind of this resignation -- a very deep sadness and loneliness to his character.

Of course, he doesn’t derive any comfort or fulfillment from human interaction, because (to borrow the description from the Wikipedia article on ‘Reactive attachment disorder’, which Tom meets all the criteria for) he has a “grossly disturbed internal working model of relationships.” In other words, he is unresponsive to all offers of attachment because of this unacknowledged trauma.

(You could arguably class Tom as having an avoidant attachment style, but I think in his case the trauma and its effect on him are severe enough to call it disordered.)

RAD isn’t particularly well-characterized (especially neurologically) and quite new in the literature, but here are some links if anyone is interested in doing a bit of digging: Link 1 | Link 2 | Paper 1 | Paper 2

And, instead of trying to resolve this conflict in a healthy way, or at least recognize that this is why he can’t be happy and try to learn how to cope from there, he (a) represses the desire for human attachment and (b) funnels that negative emotion into being the fault of Death, the Grim Reaper (again, to borrow Freudian terms). 

And we all know how that turned out...

(And now, this should go without saying, but psychoanalyzing fictional characters has nothing to do with assigning a morality to mental disorders. Mental illness is neither a cause nor an excuse for criminal behavior -- in the same way that the cycle of violence is a phenomenon, not an excuse. Tom Riddle did not become a genocidal murderer because, in common parlance, he was a ‘psychopath’ -- he was not necessarily ‘predisposed’ to evil and could just as easily chosen to not follow the path that he did -- instead, he willingly made poor choices. This is a descriptive analysis, not a justification -- a ‘how’, not a ‘why’)

Here’s a Carl Jung quote that articulates it better:

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

Yes, he’s a bit stiff (and a lot more formal than in COS during his *conversation* with Harry). But, and here comes the controversial bit, this is appropriate for a portrayal of a schoolboy in the 1940s. The upright posture is accurate -- respectful, polite -- everything Tom Riddle would have been expected to be (and even Coulson, in that scene with Dumbledore in COS, is quite stiff). Even the way he looks at Slughorn and maintains eye contact is very *respectful.*

And, Dillane (I think he’s seventeen or eighteen here) actually looks like a believable sixteen-year-old. I’m sorry, I love Coulson’s portrayal as well, but he looks around nineteen in COS; so in HBP, he probably would have looked at least twenty-two or so. (Sorry, not sorry).

This may be influenced by my own interpretation of the character (because I imagine Tom always looks young for his age, and Dillane fits that archetype, but I don’t think that’s very popular), but I think young Tom Riddle is supposed to be *cute* and a bit stiff/shy/awkward (being charming and awkward is very much possible), if you consider the way Dippet and Slughorn treat him. 

To support this, he says very few words to Hepzibah Smith (in the book, that scene’s not in the movie), and is very... bashful and coy during the whole interaction? I think yes, he’s charismatic, but he’s not loud, suave, openly flirtatious or particularly verbose. Tom Riddle should have a quiet magnetism, and to me, that came across in Dillane’s portrayal.

"I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me," said Voldemort quietly, and Hepzibah gave another girlish giggle.

...

"Are you all right, dear?"

"Oh yes," said Voldemort quietly. "Yes, I'm very well. ..."

Even the ‘ugly, greedy look’ described in the books, when Slughorn starts spilling his secrets, is there. This is how he’s supposed to look! Slughorn glimpses it, but doesn’t understand its significance. Harry does. 

“Slughorn looked deeply troubled now: He was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all.”

Remember the context of this moment, as well: He’s just discovered how to create multiple Horcruxes. Excuse him for looking a bit creepy (if not now, then when?).

Here’s two direct quotes of Harry’s impression of Tom Riddle in that scene: 

“But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing.”

“Harry had glimpsed his face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human. . . .”

Tom Riddle’s Horcruxes are a direct metaphor for his refusal to allow himself to heal from his trauma -- instead, he continues to inflict destruction on himself and others.

His desire to continue creating more Horcruxes sort of resounds with the fact that self-harm can also become a compulsion.

I’d also like to digress a bit to discuss the Gaunt Ring, while we’re at it. While we’ve talked about his attachment issues in general, this discussion is particularly pertinent to father figures. And while Tom’s attachment issues are extensive, I think there’s ample evidence that as a child, he craved acknowledgement and acceptance from a father figure -- the man who gave him the only thing Tom truly owned -- his name. He would have had a vaguely defined mother figure in Mrs. Cole, perhaps.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was.... He didn’t like magic, my father ... He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage ... but I vowed to find him ... I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name ... Tom Riddle. ..."

We know that by June of 1943 (COS flashback) Tom has already uncovered the truth of his parentage; he knows he is the Heir of Slytherin via the Gaunt line, and he describes himself to Dippet as ‘Half-blood, sir. Witch mother, Muggle father.’

In Part 1, I discussed the high probability that as a presumed ‘Mudblood’, Tom Riddle was treated rather poorly in Slytherin House. But by this scene in the fall of 1943, he is surrounded by a group of adoring hangers-on. Why?

In my opinion; the Gaunt Ring. We know that Tom stopped wearing it after school, so its sentimental value couldn’t have been that great. We know he likes to collect objects (which I believe stems from his attachment issues -- he seeks comfort in things instead of other people).

Signet rings (such as the one belonging to Tutankhamun seen above) were used to stamp legal documents and such, in order to certify someone’s identify -- like an e-certificate, if you will. Like Tutankhamun’s ring, the Gaunt Ring bears an identifying symbol -- Marvolo Gaunt tells us proudly that it bears the Peverell family crest.

By the Middle Ages, anyone of influence, including the nobility, wore a signet ring. Rings in antiquity were auspicious -- they signified power, legitimacy, and authority. And so, I believe that all the Sacred Twenty-Eight families would have worn these, too.

And so, bearing the Gaunt Ring would have established Tom Riddle, symbolically and in the eyes of the Sacred Twenty-Eight (his future supporters and followers), as the legitimate heir to the House of Gaunt. This is why, I believe, Tom coveted the ring as soon as he saw it -- not just because it was a family heirloom, and not just because he thought it was a pretty toy for his collection.

(He curses it so that no one else but him can wear the Gaunt Ring safely.)

This is why, to make the legitimization literal as well as symbolic, Tom murders his father and grandparents. It’s not just an act of vindictive, murderous rage due to his perception of being rejected by his father (although it is that, too). And so, Tom, abandoning his search for a father figure (and possibly also giving up on the possibility to allow himself to heal from his own personal trauma rather than continue to inflict it on others), ‘cleanses’ his bloodline, to make himself truly legitimate. It’s rather telling that instead of affirming his legitimacy as a Riddle, which would have put him in line for a nice inheritance, and hey -- money is money -- (thus accepting his half-blood status), he simply kills them all. He has done all the murdering he needs to become immortal (and he hasn’t had the discussion about multiple Horcruxes yet); but yet, he does it again. Frightening stuff. 

(Just look how the others look at Tom. All but the one to his left -- possibly Nott, Rosier, or Mulciber -- have their torsos turned towards him. Their attention is on him, while he knowingly regards the viewer/Harry. Tom seems a little uncomfortable with the attention.).

“And there were the half-dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.”

...

“Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.”

...

“Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader.”

The ‘gang’ are true hangers-on; Tom doesn’t seem to pay them much attention. 

So, if not via careful flattery or charisma, the attraction must be status.

And perhaps yet more telling...

"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing." “A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor.”

That, in my opinion, is as good as we’re going to get as proof that Tom’s shiny new signet ring (and by extension, his new status) made a big impression on his fellow students.

So, when he returns to Hogwarts, he is ‘pureblood’. He is cleansed of his Muggle roots, and becomes the legitimate heir of the House of Gaunt, now well on his way to becoming Lord Voldemort...

Watch the scene again, with a critical eye, and imagine Slughorn’s perspective, instead of Harry’s. There’s nothing creepy about Tom Riddle... unless you know what he is...

Strip away all the effects of Harry’s gaze (and notice, here he’s still looking at Harry), and he’s quite the charmer, actually.

(I will concede that I don’t like the promotional images where they have him looking like he’s up to no good. And I do wish he blinked once in a while.)

My challenge to you: Rewatch the scene with an open mind, and let me know if you agree that Dillane’s portrayal comes off as depressive rather than ‘creepy.’ And if not, why do you dislike his portrayal?

[fathcrlike]

                         ☆   ━━   𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗   𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚜     𝚕𝚞𝚔𝚎   &   𝚑𝚒𝚜   𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎   𝚘𝚗   𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝     ¸

there   are   a   few   things   about   lukes   portrayal   ,   especially   in   new   media   ,   that   rub   me   wrong   and   i   simply   refuse   to   accept   as   canon   for   my   portrayal   .   since   i   am   familial   with   most   of   his   legends   background   that   got   redconned   /   altered   for   the   recent   trilogy   ,   i   want   to   express   how   i   see   his   stance   on   attachment   and   relationships   .   we   all   know   that   ,   in   the   jedi   order   ,   it   was   not   allowed   to   have   a   romantic   partner   or   be   attached   to   another   person   in   that   way   .   no   ,   jedi   were   no   monks   .   they   had   intercourse   and   made   their   sexual   experience   ,   yet   marriage   or   an   actual   deeper   bond   on   that   level   was   forbidden   .   in   the   book   of   boba   fett   we   see   how   luke   urges   grogu   to   decide   between   yodas   lightsaber   and   his   father   /   din   djarin   .   let   me   get   to   both   of   these   points   real   quickly   . luke   does   not   see   emotional   attachment   as   a   bad   thing   .   he   has   a   deep   love   for   his   family   ,   for   leia   and   han   ,   for   chewbacca   .   he   grew   up   with   loving   foster   parents   ,   he   loved   his   homeworld   ,   despite   the   pull   he   always   felt   ,   the   voice   in   the   back   of   his   head   that   something   was   not   as   it   should   be   .   yes   ,   he   became   a   jedi   knight   after   being   trained   by   yoda   ,   he   assisted   his   sister   in   her   training   and   he   is   building   a   temple   /   new   school   for   students   who   are   force   sensitive   and   intend   to   follow   the   path   of   light   .   THAT   IS   THE   CUE   .   despite   studying   the   old   ways   ,   the   books   and   scrolls   he   was   able   to   get   his   hands   on   ,   his   wish   is   to   find   BALANCE   .   to   luke   ,   the   most   important   thing   is   to   find   your   place   in   life   ,   to   be   one   with   the   force   and   understand   that   there   is   a   deeper   meaning   in   existance   than   selfishness   .   he   would   do   anything   to   protect   those   he   cares   for   ,   as   we   have   seen   ,   to   prevent   other   force   users   to   become   as   lost   as   his   father   was   .   attachment   is   not   wrong   .   jealousy   ,   greed   and   mistrust   are   .   in   terms   of   partnership   ,   luke   would   need   deep   trust   in   another   being   to   allow   them   as   close   ,   yet   it   is   not   off   the   charts   .   he   knows   HIS   OWN   PLACE   ,   where   his   path   leads   him   and   what   he   can   /   has   to   do   to   play   his   part   in   the   bigger   picture   .   having   someone   to   confide   in   ,   who   accepts   his   views   and   shares   them      -      in   terms   of   choosing   light   over   darkness     -       would   have   a   huge   impact   on   him   ,   yet   never   change   his   beliefs   .   THE   BALANCE   OF   REMAINING   YOUR   TRUE   SELF   and   GIVING   YOURSLEF   TO   SOMEONE   ELSE   ,   to   be   able   to   do   both   .   this   is   what   a   healthy   attachment   ,   what   a   fulfilling   relationship   should   be   like   .    now   back   to   grogu   and   din   .   in   my   portrayal   ,   or   as   i   see   it   ,   luke   did   not   mean   harm   to   the   relationship   between   these   two   with   his   words   .   he   offered   him   a   choice   .   training   to   master   the   force   takes   a   lot   of   a   person   and   usually   they   bring   whatever   baggage   they   have   into   that   .   he   wants   to   help   grogu   ,   who   carries   a   deep   conflict   within   himself   .   he   is   ,   despite   his   age   ,   just   a   child   who   survived   mass   slaughter   .   he   has   been   hunted   down   most   of   his   life   ,   treated   like   bounty   ,   like   something   OF   USE   rather   than   a   living   being   .   given   that   ,   luke   would   never   doubt   the   importance   and   depth   of   the   bond   between   grogu   and   din   .   he   is   aware   of   how   much   they   mean   to   each   other   ,   but   also   of   the   fact   that   din   djarin   is   not   without   his   own   story   ,   his   own   baggage   .   in   order   for   grogu   to   become   a   jedi   ,   he   needs   him   to   focus   on   training   .   at   least   for   a   certain   time   .   he   needs   him   to   WANT   TO   BE   A   JEDI   out   of   free   will   and   not   because   he   once   belonged   to   the   old   order   .   why   ,   in   my   opinion   ,   luke   thinks   he   made   the   wrong   choice   in   leaving   ,   in   taking   the   shirt   and   not   the   saber   .   this   is   not   a   one   way   ticket   .   he   would   be   willing   to   still   help   the   child   ,   yet   it   has   to   be   his   own   desire   ,   his   own   way   .   LUKES   SCHOOL   WILL   ALWAYS   BE   A   REFUGE   TO   THOSE   WHO   SEEK   OUT   THE   PATH   OF   LIGHT   ,   balance   and   companionship   .   belonging   .   attachment   is   nothing   wrong   ,   as   long   as   lived   and   practiced   in   a   healthy   flow   between   give   and   take   ,   between   remaining   yourself   and   giving   a   piece   of   yourself   to   another   person   .   but   this   is   just   my   take   on   it   .