#can’t believe we haven’t seen the bat since season two

[munsontm]

IMPORTANT PORTRAYAL HEADCANON:   EDDIE MUNSON  &  DUSTIN HENDERSON.

I haven’t done one of these in a while, and it will be available on my pinned post with all the other important hcs to my particular portrayal.

Eddie develops lots of new potential friendships over the cours of S4. But no relationship is as important as his relationship with Dustin Henderson. (apart from Wayne, of course)

First of all, they come from similar single parent households, where both fathers have left for whatever reason, and i suspect that perhaps Dustin’s dad wasn’t so great either. I really think this is a huge part of what ignites the bond between them. They see each other as the big brother and the little brother dynamic. Which is convenient since Eddie had always wanted a younger sibling, and given how Dustin eventually latched on to Steve, the same can probably be said vice-versa. The two of them form a brotherhood that’s as strong as any blood bond because they understand what it’s like to be missing part of your family. They fill a certain void in each other that is needy to expand on the small families that they have. They look out for one another like brother’s do as evident when Dustin immediately shows concern for Eddie multiple times when he is accused of murder, and is the only person we see that 100% believes Eddie is entirely innocent. Eddie stops Dustin from falling in the lake, and then later on---you know, dies protecting him. Making the ultimate big brother sacrifice.

Dustin is also the only person to see every single side of Eddie, which shows just how comfortable he is with Dustin, they’re literally like family. He’s seen performer Eddie, both in the canteen, and likely as a frontman due to his belief in Eddie’s music being a good choice to distract the bats. He’s seen scared Eddie, neurotic Eddie, dork Eddie. But most of all, and most importantly. Dustin saw the most vulnerable and loving part of Eddie during Eddie’s death when Eddie proclaimed his love for Dustin. No one else was privy to Eddie’s emotions in the entire season other than how shit scared he was. He literally cried and told Dustin he loved him, and used his last words to tell Dustin how much he believed in him. If that’s not true platonic love, then I don’t know what is.

They’ve shared many battles together in D&D, and talked at length about LOTR, laughed, played together; as demonstrated when everyone is making weapons. They are the epitome of brothers. It’s not like Dustin and Steve, where Steve had been teaching Dustin to be more confident, but also be more like Steve...which isn’t even working out for Steve. Eddie tells Dustin to be himself (which is also aother example of Eddie letting Dustin see his gentler self), which is also what Steve needs to hear tbh. Because who Dustin is is already absolutely fine. He doesn’t need to be popular and a lady killer because ultimately high school does not matter in the grand scheme of things. There’s an extraordinary naturalness to their relationship which I don’t think Dustin has with Steve. What Dustin has with Steve had to build up. But I don’t get that sense with Dustin and Eddie. They feed off each other’s nerdy energy and being a know it all lmao.

Furthermore, I think that Eddie sees a lot of himself in Dustin. Obviously, there’s the similar family situation and their shared nerdiness. And while I don’t think Eddie quite holds the level of intelligence that Dustin has, he is also on a constant curiosity voyage---perhaps a more reckless one, though the two of them are great at getting themselves into trouble. And the way Dustin reacts to the police questioning him after the lake. Stupendous, amazing, full on Eddie energy. It’s the same with Ted Wheeler too! Both Eddie and Dustin shrug off authority figures because that usually means bad news for them for differing reasons. I’m js they’re both great at getting into trouble for sticking their noses in where they shouldn’t. I can’t imagine the things they could get up to if left alone too long!

In conclusion, while i enjoy Eddie’s other relationships. His one with Dustin is extremely important and often gets overlooked for Steddie and Hellcheer. He ‘died’ for that kid and clearly thought of him as his little brother to the point where he was jealous of Steve for being the other big brother. There is so much to them that the Duffer’s have left untouched, and it’s extremely annoying.

[justletmeplayminecraft]

Moving Day

it's the day that comes at the end of every season. and yet, somehow, the hermits still get caught off guard by it.

featuring: hermit ensemble, slice of life fluff, imagine moving houses but like every year and a half, werewolf!ren, something!joe, artic fox!etho, he is vaguely developed, there's pretty much no plot, just fluff, an ode to the end of this season

"Zed, you're gonna be late!" Tango calls as he drops in through the ceiling. With a bang, a mop of blond hair pokes out of the central storage. Zed rubs his head, pulling himself up.

"You're the one who distracted me with the Create world!" He replies, hauling a bag up the ladder with him. Tango laughs, throwing it over his shoulder as Zed flops onto the stone ground.

"Sure I was, it's not like you brought it up." Zed huffs, rolling his eyes. He holds his hands up towards Tango, who laughs. "Oh, you want to go over my shoulder too?" He teases.

"You are insufferable," Zed mutters, pushing off the stone himself instead. The cold is starting to seep through his cardigan.

"Have you packed everything?" Tango asks. Zed holds his fingers up to count off.

"Yes, I've checked everything four times! Maybe five, actually. I don't think there's anything left." Zed looks back at the ladders, closing his fist. Tango examines the pile of bags, humming.

"So you're sure you don't want me or Impulse to check for you?" Zed's mouth opens.

"Actually, can you check anyway?" He asks, "You know, just in case!" Tango laughs, giving Zed's shoulder a bump.

"Of course we will. But let's move these before Xisuma forgets them." Zed nods, quick to grab some of the bags. He heaves them up, almost buried under them.

"Season eight here we come!"

-

"You two!" Doc calls, scooping up the white fox before he manages to rush past him. Ren very nearly runs straight into his legs. The wolf sits down, ears twitching as he stares at Etho. Etho sticks his tongue out, Doc struggling to keep a hold on the silky fur. "You two aren't helping, you know that?" Ren barks, tail wagging. "Yeah, yeah."

With a wiggle, Etho manages to slip out of Doc's arms. He jumps up, curling around his shoulders instead and getting comfortable. Doc sighs. He bats Etho's shawl out of his face, ignoring the amused chitter. Counting, he finds most of his bags already in his ender chest. Luckily, because the two animals playing around him are making it difficult. Unlike-

"Doc," Bdubs cries, "Have you seen my razor?" Bdubs doesn't even bother with the door. Doc looks down at him on the lawn.

"Have you checked your half?" He asks.

Bdubs throws a hand up, "Of course I've checked my half, but Keralis tried to drag me into packing all his junk so I had to make a speedy escape!" Doc chuckles, watching as Ren jumps down to nose at Bdubs' hand. "Oh, hello, Ren!" Bdubs jumps into baby-talk immediately, crouching down. "Fancy you being here!"

"Please, take him-" Doc waves, "-The two of them keep running through my feet." Bdubs strokes through the fluff of Ren's neck, glancing up and spotting Etho.

"Oh, Etho as well!" Bdubs waves. Etho yips in reply, ear twitching. Then Bdubs pauses, looking at Ren properly. "Ah-ha, Snips! Of course, right-" Bdubs jumps up, "Thanks guys, I'll see you at the town hall!" Doc looks at Ren as Bdubs runs off.

"You going with him?" He asks. Ren's tail wags, staring at Doc. He sighs. "Right, of course not." Doc picks Etho off his shoulder, dropping him on the floor to a surprised squeak. "If only there was a way to attach some bags to the two of you." Both animalmits freeze, sharing a look with each other. Doc can't help but feel satisfied as they scarper towards the nearest nether portal together. "Perfect." He can finish packing in peace.

-

"Do you think you've got everything?" Wels asks, perched on a chest. Beef hauls his bag out the door with a huff.

"Well, I've got you. That's half the challenge." He looks up in time to see Wels rolling his eyes, pushing his helmet up.

"I take it back, I'm not helping you anymore."

Beef laughs, clapping Wels' arm, "We've still got Three Fox Hole to look through, you're not going anywhere yet." Wels' lips twist into a pout, crossing his arms.

"You know, when I packed early, it wasn't with the intention of doing your packing for you," he replies. But, when Beef holds out a bag, he still takes it.

"And I appreciate it!" Beef grins at him. "Maybe I'll reward you with some of my finest wallpaper-"

"Oh, please no." Wels' eyes are wide, staring in mock horror. "I might never recover."

"Oh, blackmail works too, then." Beef stands, walking past him. Wels slips off the chest, frozen in place.

"Beef- Beef, are you joking?" Beef keeps walking. Wels runs after him. "Beef!"

-

"Thanks for heading out this far, man," xB says, smiling at Keralis. "I know you've got a big space to cover too."

"Ah, it's nice taking a break," Keralis replies, holding one of xB's bags in his arms. "And I know there's no way this would all fit in your ender chest, princess." xB chuckles, looking at the half-folded clothes, trinkets, and daily essentials all sorted into piles.

"Yeah-" he scrubs the back of his neck. "-I kinda forget I've got so much. Too used to my travel bag." Keralis bounces the one in his arms.

"Well, it's a good job you've got me!" He bumps into xB's side, barely knocking the other hermit off balance. "I can always lend you some extra bags if you need them."

"The luggage dimension is just going to be my stuff at this rate," xB jokes.

"Oh, you haven't seen how much I have yet." They both laugh, Keralis putting the bag down with the rest that have been packed. "Now, what are we doing next?" xB turns to observe his piles.

"I think that one," he decides. Keralis nods, skipping across.

"Then let's go, we don't want to be late!"

-

"Cub!" Scar's voice calls down the pyramid. "I cannot believe this." Cub turns to see Scar walking along the corridor, wings fluttering in annoyance behind him. "Xisuma says my crystals aren't essential items so I can't take them. That's so unfair." Cub laughs before he can stop himself, getting an affronted noise from Scar. "Cub! I come here, I confide in you-"

"Scar," Cub interrupts, squeezing Scar's arm. Vex magic sparks around them, electrifying the air. "You could make some once we're in the next world."

"It's not the same!" Scar protests. Cub leans closer.

"Or," he whispers, "We could sneak some across ourselves."

"Oh." Scar claps his hands together. "Now you're speaking my language."

"The language of crime?" Cub asks, calling one of his bags over to him. He catches it mid-air.

"The only language I know!"

-

"This is why you should've made a proper storage system!" Mumbo cries, as Grian pulls out the contents of another chest. "This could've been so much easier!"

"I didn't know it was this bad!" Grian replies, finally managing to find his towels buried in an unmarked chest. He throws them towards his 'to pack' pile, Mumbo jumping out of the way.

"Didn't you have weeks to prepare for this?" He asks, looking at the scattered items in dismay.

"I mean- I did host an entire world in-between," Grian reminds him. Mumbo hums in agreement, deciding to organise some of the piles before they end up vanishing into a pure mess. He looks for similarities amongst the items, beginning to sort them into manageable groups.

Mumbo's lucky he thought to get all his essentials together ahead of time. He gave his luggage to Xisumavoid to store, and he knows it's all taken care of. It didn't stop him from checking his base another ten times, but he's pretty sure he's got everything now. Pretty sure.

He's going to end up checking his base again later, isn't he?

"Grian?" Mumbo asks, pausing as he notices something. The rummaging through chests stops, with only a quiet thud & 'ow' before Grian is looking at him.

"Yeah?" He replies.

"Do you… actually have any bags?"

"Ahhhh," Grian's face turns a similar scarlet to his jumper. "You see, Mumbo, last season, I kinda… borrowed some."

"Borrowed, right." Mumbo sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "Were you ever going to buy your own?"

"Yes!" Grian replies, words fast. "I just. Never had time." Mumbo's had most of his bags since he joined, so he guesses he can't relate. Pretty much all the hermits gifted him one. Otherwise, he would've never remembered at that age, but that's its own problem. It's a good job he remembers the essentials even now.

"So, how do you intend on packing all this?"

Grian hums, "Do you think I could just shove it in there loose?"

"I'll go find some bags," Mumbo decides. And something to help his headache...

-

"How many cats do you think I could smuggle to the next server?" Cleo asks, holding up another of her kittens to Joe. Joe hums thoughtfully, bright green hair moving on its own accord.

"Well, I've certainly smuggled a few of my dogs inside myself." Cleo takes a deep breath, transferring her kitten to one hand so she can pinch her nose.

"Right, of course you have." She's long learnt to stop questioning how Joe works. She's a living zombie, he's Joe. At least it makes packing easier. "I think I might take some of them to my own world, this time," she muses. "Xisuma can do that, right?"

"I'm sure he can," Joe agrees. "If not, I will have a mass exodus of animals from the server." Cleo sighs, rolling her eyes. She sets the kitten down gently amongst the other cats.

"Right, are you actually going to help me carry my bags?"

"Of course! What kind of friend would I be if I didn't try to stop you losing an arm?"

"Ugh, don't remind me." She still can't believe that happened. First, her arm falling off, then nearly losing it amongst everybody's luggage? So embarrassing. She enters the main room of her base, where she's already got her bags set out. It's surprising how many skincare products you need when you're dead. Joe follows, looking around as if he doesn't know the place like the back of his hands. To be fair, Cleo would be surprised if anybody knew the back of Joe's hands.

"Right, I've shoved as much as I can in my ender chest. If you put what you can in yours, we can divide the remainder up," she lays out the action plan.

"Sounds perfect!" Joe picks up two bags. "Are you sure you don't just want me to transport them over?"

"Keep your true self off my stuff, Joe, you know what happened last time."

Joe sighs, "Fine, fine. We'll do this the human way."

"You'll do this the human way," she amends. "I'll do it the zombie way."

-

"Stress, it's only a spider," Iskall says, pointing his sword towards it. Said spider is standing triumphantly on top of her bags, red eyes glinting. Stress pokes around the doorway, brown hair falling across her face.

"Yeah, but it's a spider on me stuff!"

"You've fought worse than spiders!"

"Just get rid of it, Iskall!" He sighs. Readying himself for a fight, he crosses across the room, stamping his foot in front of the pile. The spider hisses, sharp fangs a warning. But when the creature jumps, Iskall's sword is there to meet it, throwing the spider to the ground where it disappears into twinkling orbs.

"Look, was that so hard?" Iskall asks, his hand on his hip as he looks back at her. Stress bounces in, grinning.

"It wasn't, was it? Guess I don't need to thank you, then!" Iskall rolls his eyes, slipping his sword back into his inventory.

"Like you don't need to thank me for helping carry your stuff?"

"Oh, I'll thank you for that." Iskall laughs, grabbing the strap of two bags and throwing them over his shoulder.

"How many trips do you think we'll need?" He asks, seeing her haul two up herself. Stress hums, observing the pile.

"Prob'ly only two or three. If we get started soon then we'll get done faster, too." Iskall can hear the teasing tone in her voice.

"Aren't you the one that was scared of a spider?"

"Don't know what you're talkin' about!" She calls, walking past him. Iskall shakes his head, smiling fondly before rushing after her.

-

"Hey TFC!" False calls, touching down at his base. She smiles at the sight of his usual suitcases, already neatly packed and organized. Everything's labelled in TFC's signature handwriting to boot. Far more planned out than her, she's gotta say. But that's a problem for the next world.

"False, what can I help you with?" TFC's smile is always nice to see. She flicks her elytra closed, waving.

"I came to ask you that, actually," she replies. "Wanted to know if you'd like help carrying things over. I did all my packing a few weeks back, so I'm kinda bored." And if she stays still for too long, X will probably try to rope her into admin duties. Sure, she knows the basics, but she doesn't want to be responsible for anybody's stuff going missing. Not her department.

"Well, I'm never going to turn down some extra hands," TFC replies. He walks over and pats the suitcases on the left. "These are all ready to go, I'm still finishing up with the others. Has Xisuma already started?"

"I think he was just finishing the pocket dimension, so you've still got a little while." The hermits always rush to be the first in, as if everybody's stuff won't fit. In False's opinion, being last is best. It's easier to get your things out when they're closer to the entrance.

"Good, good. Let him know I'm nearly finished, would you?"

False nods, saluting with one hand and picking up a suitcase with the other, "Will do!"

-

Hypno walks into Jevin's base to find him and Impulse slotting the last few items into boxes. He knows Jevin was mostly packed already, so it's nice Impulse has come to help out. But… Jevin might just be taking advantage of Impulse. Hypno won't think too much into it.

"X has finished setting up," he calls, not needing an introduction. Jevin twists to look at him, Impulse busy trying to fit a label on straight.

"So you're saying I'm late?" Jevin asks. Hypno chuckles, deciding to join them on the floor.

"You know what the rush is like to get stuff in. You'll be fine for a little while." Hypno shrugs, "After Wels, X'll probably be careful." Impulse nods, sitting back now the label of 'hoodies' is attached.

"I've already handed my stuff in," Impulse says, "I think False might have too? We both finished up pretty early."

"Yeah, there was a lot in the town hall ready to be moved." Hypno wonders if the hermits are getting more prepared for this. Somehow, he doubts it.

"So, you've come to help me carry these over?" Jevin asks, Hypno looks at the boxes, shrugging.

"With all three of us, it should only be two trips, right?" There are only five boxes, and two are pretty small anyway.

"That's the spirit!" Impulse calls, grinning. "Do you think you're all ready to go?"

"Yep, I think that's everything," Jevin decides. He pats a box, making more of a squelching sound. Hypno does his best not to laugh.

"Then let's get moving!"

-

Xisuma sighs as his visor adjusts to filter out the sunlight. Coding that in was a stroke of genius. It used to be such a nightmare to continuously adjust between the pocket dimension and hermitcraft. He looks at the stacked luggage to be moved, trying to figure out if there's more there than before. He swears there is. And they didn't even say hi when they dropped it off! Rude.

He jumps when something nudges the back of his knees, sending him stumbling forward. Turning, he finds Ren, his tail wagging proudly behind him.

"Oh! Hello there." He reaches down, giving Ren a scratch behind the ears. "Are you planning to change back before we move?" Ren barks in reply. "I'll pretend that's yes."

Turning, he sees a white tail flicking over blue diamonds. Of course, those two are together. Etho's curled up in the sun, black eyes watching the pair. One ear is stuck up, the other flopped lazily.

"You two aren't going to help me carry things in, are you?" X asks, sighing as he looks back at Ren.

"I think Ren forgot to leave a spare pair of clothes out, actually," Etho says, legs dangling off the throne. He's tugging his shawl over his nose now he's in human form. Or, as human as Etho gets. "And his outfit may have experienced some... unfortunate circumstances." Xisuma looks at Ren's sad eyes, shaking his head at the pair of them.

"And those didn't involve you in any way?" X asks Etho with what he thinks is an appropriate amount of suspicion in his voice. Etho holds his hands up, leaning back in a way that would have most people falling over.

"Are you accusing me, Xisuma?"

"I don't know, am I, Ren?" Ren gives a concise nod. Etho gasps, clutching over his heart.

"Betrayed by my own brethren!" Etho cries. Ren's tail is wagging, betraying his otherwise neutral expression.

"Come and help me carry things, you," X says, calling Etho over. "We'll be here for another month if you don't." Etho laughs, but jumps off the side of the throne, landing with barely a thud.

"What are we moving, bossman?" Etho asks. Xisuma surveys the piles.

"Mumbo's stuff next, I think," X decides, "He usually takes a while to unpack." Etho nods, following X's lead as they grab a bag and box respectively.

"So this is what you guys do at the end of the season?" Etho asks, Ren trotting along with them. Xisuma hums as he enters the pocket dimension, finding an open space at the back of the room.

"Yep, this is moving day," he explains. "I always try my best to make it easy for the hermits, but it doesn't often end up working." Etho chuckles, placing the bag on top of X's box.

"Seems like most people aren't done yet," Etho agrees.

"They'll get there," Xisuma replies. The hermits always do eventually.

They're just stepping out of the portal when a voice calls, "I'm not late am I?!" X scruffs Ren's neck, smiling at Zed, who's running over with far too many bags thrown over his back.

"Not at all, friend," he reassures him. Zed drops his bags, bent over and panting. Tango strolls up behind him far more leisurely.

"See, Zed, I said you wouldn't be!" Zed whips in his direction.

"Oh, you, mister 'oh Zed you're going to be late, we're all going to leave you behind', you-" Tango laughs, fluffing Zed's hair as he sets his bags down. They take the rest of his luggage out of the ender chest Xisuma left specifically for this purpose. Beef and Wels walk up together as they do, Xisuma waving to them.

"Beefers!" Etho says, grinning.

"Hey Etho, Tango, Zed, Xisuma." Beef pauses, "Oh, and a Ren!"

"Hey guys!" Wels simplifies, dropping his bags at the doors. "This should be everything from us."

"Perfect!" Xisuma nods, "You guys okay to help me carry things through?"

"Yeah, we can help out!" "That's cool with me."

Moving things goes a lot faster with five of them helping to carry things through. Xisuma just catches Impulse, Jevin and Hypno dropping one lot off, getting a frantic wave before the trio is rushing off again. The pocket dimension is quickly filling up with bags and boxes, the hermits a constant line as they drop in and out. Xisuma frequently checks, but it seems like the dimension is handling the pressure okay.

"Xisuma!" Joe calls, him and Cleo wandering up the town hall's stairs. By this point, Cub and Scar have joined them with TFC, False, Stress and Iskall all dropping things off too.

"Good to see you both," X greets, one of Wels' bags hugged in his arms. He turns away, before hesitating, something nagging the back of his mind. After a second of focus- "Joe, why do you have so many hitboxes inside you?"

"Ah, that's nothing you have to worry about, dear admin." Xisuma gives him a long look and decides this isn't a battle he's going to pick.

"As long as you're willing to help out," he says, instead. "We're only waiting for a few people. He takes a look at the gathered hermits. Cleo's now lying on the floor, Ren beside her. His tail is already wagging again. Cub is picking a box up, whilst Scar skips through the portal holding three bags with magic. Etho's chatting to Tango and Zed as they work.

"Of course! We'll be finished in no time." It's already taken most of the day, but X doesn't need to mention that. He sets his vision back to normal, does another check of the pocket dimension, and returns to carrying boxes.

The remaining hermits trickle in as the sun sets. Stress and Beef sort out dinner for everyone, Xisuma making sure the last of the luggage is safe.

"Wait!" A few heads turn at Grian's cry, heavy footsteps rushing up to town hall. "I- I've got my stuff." Xisuma blinks at the sight of the hermit carrying about four bags at once. One is bright pink.

"You're not too late," X reassures him. "You can just drop it in, there should be room." He's settled into a shaded corner, preparing for the process of safely moving over twenty players. And Joe. If he's being honest, the data is starting to give him a headache. But it'll be worth it once they're all in their new world. Their temporary 'in-between' world is already set up. Somewhere for them all to stay whilst he handles the switch over. Most of the hermits take the time to visit friends or do other projects during that, anyway.

"Thanks, X," Grian says, between gasps. He runs into the portal, X laughing softly to himself. Mumbo walks up a few minutes later, glancing at the group.

"Is Grian in there?" He asks. Before X can even reply, about four hermits are giving an affirmative. "Thanks, guys!" Mumbo heads in after, only two bags in tow. X watches, well-aware of the fondness in his chest. It's a good reminder of just what he does this for.

-

It's another hour until everything's ready. The sun is hanging over the horizon (Xisuma may have frozen the day cycle a while back.) X has watched warily as they've shared food, chatted, played games (including one very dramatic wink murder. He's not sure what happened in Grian's server, and he's not sure he wants to ask.) But now, they've all gathered around, watching as Xisuma enters the final commands.

"Okay, everybody here knows the drill. Stay with somebody else, I want to do a headcount on the other side, then you're all free to wander." He projects his voice, the hermits hushing to listen. "Is everybody ready?"

"Yeah!" "Born ready!" "We've been ready for hours!" "Is there food on the other side?"

X shakes his head. With a final press of the enter key, the portal opens in front of the diamond throne. There's a collective murmur of anticipation.

"Alright, you lot can head through. I'll join you in half an hour, max." He can't even make out words following that. TFC and False are first, walking through with a wave to the others. Stress and Iskall run after them. The rest of the hermits take their time. Some share hugs, some take a last look at the horizon. And Xisuma watches over it all, determined every single one of his hermits will make it safely through.

"X?" Impulse calls. He and Hypno are standing together. The town hall feels so much emptier now the hermits are gone. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Xisuma promises. "All standard procedure. I'll see you soon." They nod, sharing a last smile.

"Okay then. Stay safe, X."

"You two as well. Try and keep the others from misbehaving until I get there."

Hypno laughs, "No promises."

And like that, Xisuma's alone. He sighs, sinking back against the diamond throne. The sun casts golden beams over the land. This has been… a good season. They all are, but. Xisuma smiles as he sets the tick speed of the world to zero, freezing it in time. He thinks next season will be something special. It only takes fifteen minutes to finish his commands, the rest he needs to do on the other side.

"Goodbye, old friend." He pats the diamond throne. With a look over the eerily still shopping district, he sighs. It really is the hermits that fill a world with life, isn't it? "To more admin work," he murmurs, before laughing at himself.

"Shishwam?" Xisuma jumps, clutching his chestplate.

"Oh my goodness, you scared me." Keralis giggles. He's waiting in front of the portal, hands in his pockets. "I thought you went through."

"Well..." Keralis starts, "Somebody said we needed to go through the portal with someone else. And then I thought of a certain admin going through alone..." Xisuma laughs, shaking his head. He joins Keralis, swirling colours reflecting off his armour.

"Of course you did." He takes a deep breath. "Well, I'm ready to go." Keralis wraps his arm around Xisuma's shoulders, squeezing him tight.

"You've done a good job this season, Shishwammy. I hope you know that." Xisuma sneaks one last look out the doorway before they leave this world behind.

"Yeah." He smiles. "I think I do."

[notasiren21]

26 for Lukanette WIPs please. :)

26. Party Crasher!Luka

I FUCKED UP AND JUST WROTE IT I GUESS???

Party Crasher

-Lukanette oneshot

“You mean to tell me Agreste ditched you? After all that pleading to let him take you to the party for your successful launch line for next season, he’s ditched you?”

“Kagami, don’t kill him.”

“Fine, remind me why I can’t though? This is such an ass move of his if he’s trying to prove he’s the one for you.”

“Because,” Marinette grits out, faking a toothy smile to a work couple that waves from passing, “I want to castrate and kill him myself.”

Kagami laughs roughly in surprise, “Why the castration?”

“So I can fit his small ass into the tightest pair of skinny jeans we have for our tall teenage girls.” The not so stoic girl sips on her wine, pleased with her friend’s rage. “I told him I haven’t been interested since we were 14, but him thinking I’ll forgive him if I even had a silver of interest in dating him? Fuck him.”

“Or,” Kagami drawls, long nails tapping the stem of her glass as she leans to peer over her friend’s shoulder, “You could fuck him instead?”

Mari gasps in offense, “I am NOT trying for a one night stand, no matter what you guys say.”

“No, you little mouse,” she admonishes, fully heartedly agreeing with the sentiment, “I just mean your big and handsome protective snake is here to save the day.”

Marinette’s mind took a second longer to click the pieces together, trying to make sense of Kagami’s nicknames for her friend group, before her heart thudded and she slowly turned.

There, passing by the models who had walked in Marinette’s designs and batted their false lashes at the rockstar, was Luka Couffaine.

Dressed to the nines in a very punk like and sophisticated way that revealed he very much wanted to impress her and did in fact listen to her fashion advice. Black skinny jeans only he could pull off, high top converse and a white button up with a black vest to overlay it. The cheeky and handsome bastard forgoing the tie to leave one too many buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos.

Oh, on the life of his cat Sass was she proud of him.

And maybe drooling just a little?

He approached her, a sly smile working its way to his lips as he eyed her up and down, eyes shining bright at her black low cocktail that she paired with navy blue heels.

So maybe she sometimes used Luka as a whole for inspiration.

He raised a hand, finger wrapping around a loose curled tendril out of an elegantly messy low bun, “I thought it was the models you were supposed to make the stars of the show.”

“Had I known you were gonna show up, I would’ve worn one of my bests here.”

His hand froze, “This isn’t your best? You tease,” he broke out in a grin. His hand moved further, thumbing at the collection of piercings in her ear he accompanied her with to get years ago. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Well, I’m suddenly glad I can only acknowledge this as awkward and not feel it.” Kagami noted into her class. Her phone buzzed, electing a sigh from her as she began turning. “Have fun, my mother decided to remind me why this wine was a good idea to have before she came.”

She watched her friend walk away, her other -her best friend and other half, remained taking her in and stroking the soft spot under her ear he once claimed with a mark-

The one time they admitted their crushes and strong attraction towards the other the night before he left for tour years ago.

It was the only time Luka had indulged himself in his wants and desires, the only time he had asked to and still provided her with an out. And now he still remains far off in her memories, even as he stands in front of her with that look on his face years later.

“How did you,” she swallows when his soft gaze flicks back up to her eyes with his full attention. “How did you get in? It’s a ticket only event.”

He shrugged, turning to offer her an arm and walk around. “I may or may not have seen Adrien’s post about his mom and dad going to a gala event and him going to see his cousin there. Seems like that took precedence I guess.”

Marinette huffed low, “Félix has been in town for three weeks. Adrien and I had lunch with him the other day.”

Luka stilled as a busboy stopped in front of them, offering them glasses of champagne. Luka’s nose twitched, then his lip as he turned away with a polite smile. Marinette shook her head in turn as well.

“You know you don’t have to pass just because of me, right?”

“Hey, we do this ‘young 20 some year olds unable to drink alcohol’ in solidarity together.” He cracked a smile at that, “Soda is my alcohol.”

“Alright, you can be an honorary member of the alcohol intolerance club.” Luka laughed when she hummed gleefully. “Dork.”

“Nerd.”

“So, back on topic, Adrien just really had no excuse then?”

“Ha, no, even his dad stopped by an hour ago to congratulate me and get press photos done to promote the line. All his son did for me was send a text with a sad face attached to his cancellation.”

“... I can kick his ass, you know?”

“I know, I’m just saving for a rainy day.” She laughed, stepping closer to his side and wrapping both arms around his. “So, the ticket, you party crasher.”

“Right, yeah, I may or may not have called your assistant earlier today to swipe it. I took a guess that she held onto it for safe keeping so-,”

“She’s new, I’m not surprised she just gave it up that easily.” She let Luka guide her into a dance. One hand with painted black holding hers to his chest, the other gently tugging to hold his shoulder before he held her waist.

“Oh, that, that explains a lot now.”

“What?”

He flinched, a nervous glint flashing across his features. “I may or may not have lied about who exactly I was since she didn’t know my name-,”

“Doesn’t listen to your music, already told her the sin she was committing.”

“And who I was to you, specifically-,”

Marinette tilted her head back in a laugh, Luka’s arm tightening to brace her weight, “You said you were my husband, didn’t you?”

He flushes at a memory of once getting a creep off her back a year ago by claiming that very title to her.

“Erm, no, I said I was your boyfriend and may have sold it by saying some pet name and swooning over you just a little,” he watched her eyes go wide then soft, a smile twitching to show. He stepped closer, almost pulling her flush to him, “But if that’s what you want, I can go out and get some marriage certificate?”

She flushed, lips parting and a rush of air passing them.

“Maybe call Jagged up and fly us to Vegas? I mean, we’re both looking good right now, you more so.” Her face went a shade or two deeper. She jumped in surprise when he let go of her hand to play with a tendril again on the right side, tilting her face to press a kiss to her left cheek. “God, you’re such a pretty little thing.”

She squeaked.

“What, what was the pet name?”

“Hm?” He lazily met her gaze, a dream like haze filter over them as he moved her body to sway with his. “Oh, that.”

“What was it?”

Baby, babygirl, beautiful, gorgeous- he may have said more than one.

He gave a slow and wicked grin, twirling her out and back into his chest in a swift and stunning movement as he nudged his nose to hers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased, smile spreading wider and radiant as she forgot to breathe for a second.

What. A fucking. Tease.

The need for him to make good on his words and looks hit through her hard and reminded her of their one night together that they both never forgotten. And how much she wished that was every night, as long as it ended up with them curled right around each other and love and happiness coaxing them to sleep instead of stress and loneliness.

He watched her steel her gaze, her jaw tightened. He swallowed when her height, now of five feet thanks to heels, straightened and forced him to pull up. A violent shiver rocked through him when both hands held along the back of his neck, one slipping under the collar of his shirt to scratch along the nape.

“Marinette-,” he choked.

“I’m only asking so I can show my reciprocation.” She leaned closer, kicking her shoes off into some corner and standing on his converse that every elder of theirs had eyed in question during the night. He supported her actions fully, of course. Still stepping them around in dance within a fluid motion. “Not gonna tell me, hun?”

He coughed, loudly and looked away from her to catch his breath. Watching adults cheat on spouses everywhere or everyone else minding their own business to stare at models or the shrimp on the tables.

He almost tripped when she wined in protest, her hand gripping his chin lightly and turning it to face her. His eyes were flickering between admiration, lust and love, growing three shades of deeper blue than was possible.

“C’mon, baby, tell me.”

“Baby?” He stammered out in surprise. Teenage Luka was having a fucking field day with this. “Marinette, I was only joking earlier and-,”

“Were you really though?”

“No,” his response was fast and instant, a wince playing at the corner of his eyes and his button nose scrunching in loss of control.

“Hey handsome,” he preened under the nickname passing her lips, even if close to millions called him the same thing, it paid more effect when it was Marinette calling him it. “Tell me why you came tonight.”

His neck was aching from staring down to meet her eyes now that the heels were gone but he let himself down lower to press his forehead to hers. “Because you deserve better than what he gives you.”

The girl stilled, expecting an awkward or a flirtatious remark. “What?”

The rockstar looked away sheepishly, a little ashamed. “I know you’re considering getting with him, but when I heard he was canceling on you I let my jealousy win out and I just wanted to be there for you.” He bit his lip when he felt her tugging his face back in her direction, choosing to resist the pressure. “You have to believe me when I say I came with no ulterior motives other than protecting you from going stag to your own party tonight.”

“You, you came to protect me?”

He shrugged, another small shiver racking through him when her hands moved along and glided across his neck. “And make sure you had a good night. I even asked your mom what you were wearing tonight just so I could make sure my outfit complimented yours to cheer you up.”

She was silent for a minute or so, and he waited, patiently as ever and guiding her to rest her head against his chest as he swayed them.

Luka, doing all the work. Luka, taking matters into his own hands when someone fails her. Luka, going the extra mile to make sure she has a happy memory.

Fuck giving second chances to other people. Luka is the only one to have shown her he’s the most earning of the concept and notion.

She pulls away, feeling the slight reluctance in his arms on her waist before they drop to his side, “Grab my heels.”

He raises a black brow but complies, turning to find them and hooking his fingers in the backs. He eyes them, used to seeing her shoes laying around the Liberty when she comes over or even at her own place, but he always has to remark that, “You have small feet.”

“You’ve also called them cute,” she huffs, tugging on his hand and pulling him near the entrance.

He follows, like they always do for one another. “Because they are- where are we going?” He stops them as they round an empty corridor, away from the hotel’s event room where the party is still very much happening. The heel of his palm grips tight to archway, pressing against it, the small shoes still dangling in his hold.

“Home, your place or mine. Actually, mine’s closer.”

He laughs brightly, “You can’t ditch your own party for another movie night, Mari.”

The petite girl turns to him, a fierce expression in his eyes that makes him swallow harshly. “No, but I can ditch to celebrate in getting what I really want. For finally getting what I want.”

“The Chinese takeout place is closed this time of ni-,”

“You.”

“What?” Luka wheezes, he blinks stupidly at her. Prettily and stupidly. He straightens, freehand tugging at his collar a little like he needs room to breathe. “Come again?”

“I’m going home. I’m taking you with me. And we’re gonna celebrate that I finally got off my ass and got what I wanted.”

He hums, nervously and a bounce starting in his hand, a shake in one hand, his dark brows furrow, “And you want?”

“You.”

“You- you want,” he sucks in a sharp breath, pain flashing across his features as he clears his throat. “You want me?”

Her eyes soften, a smile showing as she steps closer to him and takes his face into her hands, pulling him down to be eye level with her as he braces his weight on the wall next to them with a hand.

“Yes,” he looks awestruck as she giggles. “I want you... can you let me keep you?”

He laughs nervously, “I’ll fucking sell myself to you if that’s what you really want, fuck.”

She’s smiling, leaning up on tiptoes to alleviate the strain in his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, muffling the undignified noise of surprise that escapes him. She lets him get used to her for a second, kissing him slowly and purposely as starts to eventually overcome the shock and kiss her back in reverence.

He pulls away suddenly, a guilted expression on his face.

“Wait, wait. What about Adrien?”

“What about him?”

Luka fidgets, a quick glimpse of insecurities and jealousy showing to her before he regains a semblance of control after having his walls knocked down. “He’s been trying to go out with you, win you affections.”

He only knows of the situation, but never presses her to talk about it. It’s natural for it to come up in conversation everyday when he asks her about work knowing the stress of being twenty-two in a high end fashion company could be a bit more than overwhelming. He wanted to be a safe place to her since the beginning.

“There’s nothing about him. I’ve shut him down an handful of times and now it’s just a matter of letting him indulge himself in what he thinks are romantic gestures when me saying no doesn’t cut it. There’s nothing going on between him and I, just his belief that my crush from years ago accounts for something today.”

Luka still looks wary and isn’t touching her, most likely his conscious trying to be the better person between him and Adrien by not going out with the girl his friend is pining after.

Even if said girl is Luka’s legitimate best friend and the very same girl he’s been in love with since he was a kid.

Marinette feels like it’s a dirty tactic as she gets closer to him, trying to gauge where it’s jealousy and where it’s insecurity in regards to Adrien.

She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Luka’s head turns minutely at the attention, tilting less than a centimeter to catch her lips before he catches himself. He struggles when her next kiss falls to his lips and is soft and slow, how he always wants to kiss her.

“Remember our first kiss?” She whispers, wounding arms around his waist and pressing close to him.

He matches her volume, an adoring look winning for a split second, “Of course I remember.”

“Remember our first date?”

“At the ice cream parlor, you wore a pink skirt that kept twirling when you did.” She feels his resolve break a little, his own right to be selfish with her slipping out a little.

His arms slip around her, and he presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “Remember our goodbye at the airport?” His arms tightening around her speak more volumes than his strained, “Yes,” does.

She’s just a little closer to convincing him to stop being so sacrificial with his own wants or needs. She just has to push more.

“Remember waking up in one another’s arms that morning?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking of what he can say in response to that. Wondering how honest to be, “... every day, I think of that morning every day.”

She still hears the clipped apprehension in his voice. That tone she knows so well that’s gonna lead into him giving her advice to rethink this whole decision and talk to him when she’s absolutely sure. How she shouldn’t think on impulse and lunge at what she wants unless she knows she does wanna keep with it.

But, he has to know she always thinks back on moments with him and that she longs to have jumped on impulse if it meant being with him.

Every time he’s showed up with takeout at her place. When he smiles so freely at her. When he bandages her cuts and blisters from working all night long.

When he showed up tonight looking like he had been her dare to begin with. How her heart felt when he admitted to lying to her secretary. The way he looked carrying her high heels that were much too small for his hands but he didn’t care because she asked him to.

How he crashed her own party to make sure she’d have fun tonight.

She’s sure she wants this, him.

All those nicknames they could call each other. All the benefits of dating the other and having a date to everything the other needs to attend. Having her best friend be her boyfriend meaning there’s no holding back from anything.

She’ll cringe about it in the morning, but it’s gotta work to break his long instilled fear of being a bad friend or person. Of being unselfish.

“Do you still remember that night?”

She’s sure he’s stopped breaking by the way his entire body seems to shut down, but then it reboots and he’s shaking against her and can’t seem to breathe correctly, his eyes avoiding hers as he swallows again and looking like he’s willing to risk going into an allergic reaction for the sake of one drink.

“That- that’s not something you forget, Marinette.” His hands are twitching on her waist, grip tightening just a little and a vein is jumping in his arm to do something to prove he remembers alright.

One more push, “Do you still remember how I tasted that night?”

He seizes her waist, lunging to kiss her desperately like he did that night and when he left, a growl passing his lips onto hers. He’s cupping the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, breathing her in and shaking against her as his resolves breaks completely and the selfish side comes out. The one that’s nowhere near as selfish as the average person, but enough to take in the matter of his own needs and wants. He pulls back, letting her watch his eyes darken, the pupils expanding until the blues are next to near mere ridges of color. He’s watching hers do the same before he nudges her nose and kisses her slowly, more loving and affectionate. His control slipping back into place and resulting in the Luka she so loves regaining the handles of his own mind.

He’s careful in the way he tugs her lip with his teeth, how he coaxes her to let him kiss her fully before pull back and panting against her lips.

“Yes, I remember,” his voice is rough and he has to glance away from her and straighten. She watches him take a few meditative breaths before he looks back at her.

“Does that really help?” She gestures to his chest and mouth, “the breathing?”

He laughs hollowly, “No, not really, but it bought me time to create some distance in this,” he glances around, “Not your apartment place.”

She laughs at the suddenly horrified look that crosses his face, the image of them making out and the threat of almost being caught in public instantly dawning on him. He glares playfully at her.

“You did that all on purpose.”

“Had to, you were just about to give me up for the sake of being a good friend to me and Adrien.” She pauses, a wicked idea forming to prove her point, “Unless, you want Adrien to know what that all is like?”

A dark look crosses Luka’s face; unrestrained bouts of suppressed jealousy, possessiveness and territoriality. “No,” he growls out, eyes squeezing shut and having to clear his throat. “I’d rather not let him know any of that personally.”

“Not even how I taste?”

“Marinette,” he warned, the growl resurfacing. She cooed, wrapping him up in a hug and pressing a kiss to his jaw as an apology. He whined, “It’s not funny when you do that.”

“No, but everything you feel is alright to feel. Don’t hold back for the sake of not being selfish. You can be selfish with me, you’re a reasonable guy and know boundaries.” She sighed, nuzzling further into his warm embrace. “I don’t like Adrien the way he wants me to, and lately, it’s hard to even be his friend. He needs to move on from me. Hell, I’m better friends with Félix now than him.”

“Just hope they don’t switch up on you again.”

She huffed in amusement. “God no, I’d kill them.”

“It’s adorable how how your less than five feet body resorts to violence and death threats.”

“Mm, except you, I’m quite fond of you.” She looks up at him, chin pressed to his chest and smiling when he looks at her softly and presses a kiss to her nose. “This, us, is not an impulse. Just a restrained want I’ve had for awhile.”

“Okay, I understand now.”

She grins cheekily at him, “Or need, if that makes you all possessive hot yet secretly adorable rockstar boyfriend mode again.”

“Boyfriend?” He smiled slowly, radiant as always and heart stopping. “If teenage me could hear you, he’d probably shut down from being overwhelmed.”

“Nineteen year old you certainly didn’t that night,” she mumbles, grinning at the loud bark of laughter that surprises the both of them when Luka throws his head back.

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me what age I lost it at, totally rockstar of me, right?” The blush that’s coating his neck and ears is adorable, a shy smile quirking at her briefly.

“I think it’s sweet, cute even.”

“Yeah, because you’re the one I lost it to.” He deadpanned without conviction. “But, I guess I’ll take being sweet and cute.”

“It’s okay though, I mean, I did the cliché of losing my virginity to someone I was in love with.” Luka does in fact shut down in her embrace hearing that. Hands jittering against her and fingers tapping like he’s trying to speak through notes against her skin.

He takes another minute, before pressing a kiss to her hair. “If this is you confessing your love to me -and believe me, it’s killing me to stop you right now, I’d rather you do it in regards to another topic and not the fact that we were one another’s first time.” He avoids the dangerous smirk aimed his way, or the sharp angle of her cocked, black brow above breathtaking blues. “C’mon, let’s go dance some more and celebrate your success before we leave, maybe find your assistant to introduce me as your boyfriend to.”

She pours at him when he tugs on her hand in the direction of the party. “But-,”

He breathed out shakily, a waning patient look in his eyes and a false smirk aimed at her. “Can I sleep over tonight?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I’m very close to just following you home at this point, trust me. I don’t care how the night ends, just as long as it’s you and me tonight.”

She’s letting him make them dance again, feeling as the nerves leave his body as he gets them to fall in step with the tempo. He doesn’t care that he has to bend a little ways down to rest his cheek on her hair, not when she’s letting him pull her up against his chest when she typically only reaches the bottom of his rib cage.

They work well together, they fit perfectly together because they’re more than used to the instinctive adapting to one another.

Her hands cup his cheeks, kissing him carefully without reservation and the anxiety, “It was only an impulse at times because I love you and have for awhile.”

Luka deepens the kiss just a little, thankful she’s the type of girlfriend to let him indulge in her as he smiles, “I get it, I’ve had my share of impulsive thoughts for as long as I’ve been in love with you since we were young. I love you, Mari.”

“Enough to crash a party for me, apparently,” she whispered, a little moved by the thought that they were finally together. He thumbed her tears away.

“Enough to kill Adrien or Félix if you ask me to,” he replied in a loving tone, soothing her gasps for air when she broke apart in giggles against his chest in reaction.

He didn’t leave after that night. And he went to every party as her date too.

[eternally-writing]

tour troubles | jjk

genre: fluff, angst

rating: G (no swearing or sexual content)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: idol!au, boyfriend!au, one-shot

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

Synopsis: When surprising your boyfriend Jungkook on tour doesn’t quite go as you planned, it’s up to you now to help cheer him up.

banner by me!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

After a grueling 6 months apart,  you were more than happy to be in MetLife Stadium watching your boyfriend live out his dreams on stage. The Map of the Soul Tour was no joke; Jungkook was practicing all day and performing all night, and combined with your final exam season passing by it left little time for you to talk to each other.

Finally wrapping up the school year, you got in touch with Jimin to see if he could help you plan a surprise visit for Jungkook on one of their final tour stops.

All of the members had become like family to you, but it's no secret that aside from Jungkook you are closest with Jimin. He was like the older brother you never had, and you always ran to him whenever you needed relationship advice or a good hug.

As you watched Jungkook on stage you noticed his smile falter sometimes as he would be slightly out of position or dance off beat. You could only pick this out because you had spent hours in the practice room dancing with Jungkook. 

You and Jungkook had come together because of your shared love for dance. He had first asked you out inside a very sweaty-scented Big Hit practice room, almost half of your dates ended with some form of dancing, and whenever one of you was frustrated you could always find the other teary-eyed, lying on the marley floor of a dance studio. You had always been there to whisper words of encouragement in his ear when he was feeling down, and you wished nothing more than for her voice to reach the stage at the moment.

Soon enough, the concert came to an end and you were flashing her pass to the backstage security guard to get to see the boys. Despite your  uneasy feeling watching the concert, you couldn't ease the butterflies in your stomach at seeing your boyfriend for the first time in months.

Ever since you had planned this, you spent your nights imagining exactly how Jungkook would react: whether he would hug and kiss you first, stay frozen on the spot in shock, or start crying right away. 

As you stepped into the Big Hit dressing room, you were instantly greeted with several smiling faces. 

I didn't take you long to do a head count and realize that there were only 6  boys standing in front of you, and that your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. 

Making eye contact with Jimin, you saw the softness in his eyes as he motioned for you to come closer so he could explain. 

“He’s not feeling well Y/N, and none of us can get him to talk about it. We’re so worried. I swear I’ve only gotten like 2 words out of him tonight, and I even tried to make a nutella sandwich for him to cheer him up. I’m sorry this isn’t what you had planned, but can you talk to him please? For us?” 

You took a deep breath before pulling back the curtain divider in the dressing room. Your nerves catching up to you, you considered just turning around and telling the boys you would surprise him at their next concert instead. 

You had dealt with Jungkook being troubled and frustrated more times than you could count, but you were worried you had lost her touch after being apart from him for months. 

Your mind also flew the other way. How many times has he felt like this after a concert and never told you? When he said "It was fun I'm just really tired now" after every concert was he truly feeling like this? 

With that, you pushed forward because you knew that you had to be there to support Jungkook today, even if you couldn't be there for all the other times. 

The sight that greeted you behind the curtain was not a pretty one. 

Jungkook was staring blankly at the monitor in front of him, dark fringes of his hair matted against his sweaty forehead, tour hoodie zipped up completely with the hood on, and worst of all, his eyes were clearly puffy and swollen, with tinges of red coming through from underneath his makeup. 

Jungkook barely even glanced your way as you sat down an ample distance away from Jungkook on the couch. It was clear from his lack of surprise at your appearance that one of the boys (probably Jimin) had probably told him about your surprise visit earlier in an effort to cheer him up after the concert, but even that could not get him out of this slump.

 Of all the scenarios you came up with for how Jungkook would react to your surprise, somehow this one never crossed your mind. 

You turned your focus to where Jungkook was staring - a TV monitor replaying video footage from tonight's concert. You watched as his eyebrows stayed furrowed as he glared disapprovingly at himself for making even the smallest of mistakes in the video, almost wincing as the TV monitor continued to play the footage.

"Do you want me to help point out things in the video?"

Jungkook didn’t even move a muscle.

You took the silence as a yes, and pulled a pen and the closest thing you could find to paper, a napkin, out of your purse to write on. 

Working as a dance teacher had taught you more than a couple tricks about how to give constructive feedback, and you were a firm believer in the "give 2 compliments and then 1 thing to work on" approach. However, you knew the issue with Jungkook wasn't that he was truly bad at dancing, but rather that he was way too hard on himself for the smallest details that the audience wouldn't even notice - so she threw in a few more compliments than usual. Unsure of how Jungkook would react to seeing the list, you still threw some of those very nit-picky details on there, knowing that if he was still frustrated he would throw the list out all together if he thought you were just coddling him. 

And so you both sat together in front of that grainy TV monitor, in complete silence aside from the sound of your pen scratching against the napkin.

June 10, 2020 MOTS:7 Tour Feedback Report for Jeon Jungkook ( by Y/N)

- match angle of arm placement in Black Swan Opening Choreo

- footwork on DNA ending choreo could be cleaned up 

- the ARMY at the corner of the screen during Euphoria had the biggest smile when you looked at her. I think she’s gonna remember that moment for the rest of her life. 

-  I like the way you wink at the camera during So What! Gave me butterflies babe. 

- could add more energy into the last Fake love chorus ( hot bod btw!!)

And the list kept going on and on as you diligently focused on the screen and writing notes, taking occasional glances at your silent boyfriend.

Upon glancing over your shoulder and seeing your list, Jungkook smiled at your thoughtful and sweet comments. 

All of sudden, a wave of consciousness and realization washed over him. 

He finally has the girl he loves in front of him again after months apart, and instead of cherishing his limited time with you he was spending it watching himself dance, which is what he had already spent the last 9 years of his life doing. Most of all, you never let your smile falter once in front of him, even though he knew you may be upset with his response to your surprise, and you went along with whatever he wanted to do - even if that meant watching a very very low-quality video of his performances on a loop. 

Grabbing the napkin gently out of her hands and placing it on the table, Jungkook cupped your face and looked gently into your eyes. 

"Thank you",  he said softly, as if not wanting to startle you with his sudden character change.

In your head there was absolutely no need for Jungkook to be thanking her for anything she was doing.  She knew dating an idol would have its challenges, and she made a promise to Jungkook that she would be by his side through it all, even if that included rewatching Euphoria on loop. 

It was now your turn to sigh. 

“There’s nothing to thank me for babe, it’s just me. I wanna be here for you when you’re like this - I didn’t just date you so I could be there to celebrate your Billboard #1s and daesang sweeps, I’m here for these moments too.”

Jungkook further eliminated the space between you both by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. In that moment he realized that maybe all he needed was you. That all these hurdles he had been facing alone would have been much easier if he had just let you in on his problems.

“I just feel bad Y/N, I haven’t even seen you for months and the first time I see you I’m like this? I’m sorry.”

The gears started turning in your head. Batting your eyes overdramatically at your boyfriend, you smiled. 

“Okay how about we make a deal then babe?”

Jungkook looked at you curiously and let you carry on. 

“From now on, every time you feel like this you come to me okay? We can figure this out together, but I can’t help you if you don’t let me in,” you expressed, grabbing his hands in yours.

“Also, if you felt like making it up to me you could buy me some ice cream? It’s not the same when I eat it without you,” you joked.

Jungkook’s melodic laugh vibrated through the room. 

“Just ice cream? You’re selling yourself short babe. I’d buy the whole world for you, my love.”

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡-- 

As you emerged from behind the curtained section of the dressing room, hand in hand with a smiley Jungkook ( a stark comparison from how he was a mere hour early), you were greeted with Jimin jumping up and cheering loudly upon seeing the maknae.

Unable to contain his excitement, Jimin ran towards the two of you, chiming “you did it Y/N!! You brought back our maknae!”  

“Good to see you smiling, Jungkookie,”  beamed Jimin as he stepped forward to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. 

Jungkook chuckled and looked up at his hyungs. 

“I think I owe you all some ice cream. Ready to go? It’ll be treat.”

If his hyungs weren’t already excited to see Jungkook feeling like himself, now they were ecstatic. And you definitely felt the same way as well. ♡

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡-- 

If you liked this, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading ♡

- Emily

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

idk how many people would even want to see this BUT i wanna yell about Leela and Brax so here's a list of all their scenes togethr/scenes pertainng to them that i can recall (pLEASE add on if i missed anything/ you have any additional thoughts!! i could talk about these two all day!)

right off the bat in Weapon of Choice when Leela is on the outskirts of the Citadel and Brax goes to bring her back (which is interesting in and of itself, bc usually i would imagine a chancellery guard would go do that so what made Brax decide to instead??), Leela kinda goes off at him bc she's hurting and instead of trying to actually explain what's going on Brax doesn't even try to argue he just says "we need you" which is great bc Leela has that instinctive desire to be needed and to help people and he's speaking right to that -- also as far as we know, this is Leela and Brax's first actual meeting in canon? it's implied that they know of each other, which makes sense, but it doesn't seem like they've ever directly interacted before: Brax seems almost slightly uncertain, and Leela is combative, but when he's gentle with her she's actually quite receptive

the literal next scene after that, where the OT4 is all in one room for the first time (they still kinda hate each other at this point but still !!!). Narvin explaining Gryben and being a real jerk about it and Leela (understandibly!) questions if Gryben is a prison world, and Brax (who to this point has been mostly quiet as Narvin and Romana brief Leela) jumps in to both clarify Narvin's previous xenophobic statements while also maintaining the inherent questionable/negative connotations

(btw it's actually pretty important to note that Romana self-edits herself a lot when talking to Leela, especially in the earlier seasons; you can actually hear her revising the things she says to put it in terms that she thinks Leela will better understand. and i mean she does it out of genuine consideration for her friend associate but it often comes across as varying levels of patronizing. Narvin also obviously "dumbs things down" when dealing with Leela early on, but like... Brax never does that on any level. the only difference i can tell in how he addresses Leela vs how he talks to anybody else is that he seems much more kind with her than almost anyone else???)

their conversation about the Matrix in The Inquiry: this is REALLY important (and if you've ever talked to me on ao3 i've probably gone off to you about it lol) because it's layered. they're talking about the Matrix but they're also not because in answering Leela's question Brax is making a very thinly veiled allegory (which he outright states a minute later) to Time Lord society/politicians/most importantly HIMSELF -- he's actually strangely open about his morals/beliefs in this scene and i'm living for it tbh -- and i find it very interesting that even though he does directly explain what he means ("how do you know all this?" / "because i am a politician.") he also leaves it for Leela to work out the implications. like it's a very nuanced conversation bc there's double meaning in it and most people on Gallifrey seem to think that Leela is tone-deaf and can't pick up on that stuff (even Romana sometimes oversimplifies things to her) but Brax totally just lets her take from it what she will bc he believes her intelligent enough to understand. he doesn't think her any lesser because she's human.

ALSO on a secondary note to the above: the fact that Leela has a question/needed clarification (sorry, haven't listened to this in a while i forget how it actually happened) and actively sought out Brax to talk to about it?? like she knows Romana better she could have gone to her but i feel like Leela kinda imprinted on Brax and someone she can go to for help if she needs it; maybe it's partly bc she knows he's under marginally less pressure than Romana is but also the truth of the matter is that Brax was the most genuinely helpful person to her in the previous stories and that probably means a lot to her (esp. bc he acts like the essence of everything she hates about Gallifrey but he doesn't treat her the way she would expect from that). btw this topic is gonna come up again in a hot minute

that part where Brax gives her that information that might help her re: the Andred thing, even though he really probably shouldn't have done that -- it kinda makes me think about what he must have been like with Theta tbh???

actually this is mostly my own conjecture but there's some neat stuff in Spirit bc during the *waves hand vaguely* bodyswap dream sequence thing, Romana is very "!!!! Brax can help us !!!" which is tecnically Leela brain talking, so like there's the implications of the stuff i've said above about Leela having this idea of Brax where she knows he's someone she can go to for help

can u tell i'm soft for them

Leela sounding really sad/distracted when she talks about how Brax isn't there YES i'm grasping at straws but a lot of this relationship really is conveyed through the voice acting bc of how little direct focus there is on the characters. there's actually several scenes in Mindbomb where she mentions him and she outright says that she misses him during her discussion with Matthias

that implied scene with them in Mindbomb!! i have a Lot of thoughts about that!!! it's all conjecture and fanfic fodder!!! but the reason i mention this is because it seems pretty meta that out of the whole Gally Gang, it's Leela who first sees Brax when he comes back to Gallifrey and in turn she's the first person (besides Matthias, i guess) that he sees upon his return?? idk i just feel like that's somehow a meaningful detail??? also her reaction of utter shock after spending the entire episode missing him and how worked up she is when she tries to tell Romana, like I desperately need to know what happened in this missing scene MR RICHARDS PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED

Leela insisting on going with Brax when Pandora starts hurting him and their whole conversation there is just. so good. like they're both just so soft and then when Darkel comes in Leela instantly goes into protective mode. like they just have such an open relationship bc Brax doesn't even try to be all pretentious with her, like he doesn't even try to keep up any facades when he's with her he's just very genuine and it really says a lot about both of them -- Leela is so good at seeing people, like getting down to the core of who people are and what makes them them (which is why she's good for Romana, btw, bc Romana has a lot of identity issues) and Brax is so tangled up in who he presents himself as that he barely knows who he actually is anymore but Leela can see that and she makes it so he can truly be himself and he doesn't have to hide. also she's so gentle with him when they talk about Pandora, she's very caring and empathetic and wants to make sure he's okay and i am WEAK

it's been a hot while since i listened to Panacea but I think i remember Brax being really soft with Leela when he first brings the gang to the Axis, like just sounding really glad to see her

ok other than the fact that Brax is lowkey relatable in Reborn (daydreaming fanfic about yourself/people you know? simping for Mary Tamm Romana? yeah mood, my man) there's that scene where they're first appraoching the Citadel on the alt!Gallifrey and it seems like none of them, and Brax specifically, have seen it from the outside in a good long while bc he's very in awe and he tells Leela that he wishes she could see it and he sounds sO hEcKiNg sOFT oh my word-

and once again with Leela thinking of Brax as someone she trusts for help: in Dissassembled when everything is going to crap she straight-up says that she wants to go find Brax bc he'll know what to do/be able to help

at the beginning of Annihilation when Romana is depressed and questioning if Brax truly was her friend and Leela INSTANTLY, NO HESITATION assures her that he was; i lost where i had her exact lines written down but she actually kinda goes off to make sure Romana gets the point

literally forcing myself to talk about this bc it makes my brain stall out but like,,, the Brax Hound in Annihilation,,, Leela being like "goodbye, Braxiatel... again" she sounds so sad and like UGH i always kinda forget how sad it actually is for them to lose Brax in Dissassembled bc like, it was so sudden and they didn't get to say goodbye and Leela is always losing people and i have many many feels about this scene and how all that emotion is made very clear in how they each respond to the Hound (might make a separate post abt this later if anyone is interested ::eyes::)

Enemy Lines is utter bullcrap about these two and I will never stop being salty about how they not only sidelined the very good, very subtle friendship they had in s1-4, but they??? made Leela acutally not trust Brax??? when literally this entire time she's been the one person who probably genuinely trusts him the most?? what the heck, David

I haven't heard TW3 or 4 yet but i'm assuming there's nothing worthwhile in those with regards to this duo (correct me if i'm wrong tho lol, i would love to be mistaken in this assumption)

TL;DR Leela and Brax mututally imprinted on each other and have probably the most open and healthy relationship within the OT4 and it is an absolute CRIME that nobody besides Gary Russell and Justin Richards cared enough to actually build on it in canon

[stories-from-the-batcave]

Duke Thomas Fic Rec List

Hello again everybody! I know this list is a week or two late, but we’re finally back with a Duke-centric fic rec list. This was requested by an anon alongside our Cass rec list a little while ago. This time we’ve got ten different mostly gen fics lined up, and as always there is no bat*est. Hope you enjoy!

 You Would Not Believe Your Eyes by Tiptapricot

4k+ | G | Complete | Gen | No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Duke & Bruce, Duke & Dick, Duke & Tim, Duke & Damian

“No metas are allowed in Gotham, so what does that mean for Duke?”

All The World’s A Stage by IndefiniteIceCube

4k+ | T+ | Complete | Gen | No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Duke & Cass, Duke & Cass & Dick, Duke & Everyone 

“Duke Thomas is fine with being considered the "Good Kid" or "The-one-with-common-sense".

He's fine with the fact that the majority of his family doesn't really know him.

Really,

He's fine with it.

(No he's not.)

(But at least he's not the only one.)”

Another Terrible Day by AuroraKant

2k+ | T+ | Complete | Gen | Major Character Death

Relationships: Duke & Everyone

“Summer has begun and Duke is without direction. The Manor is cast into the shadow of grief and Duke is wondering: What is his place in the family? Who is he in this thing they call the Bat-Clan?”

the scientific method by dreampunks

10K+ | G | Ongoing, 3/6 | Gen | No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Basically Duke & The Batfamily

“5 stupid ways Duke's siblings discovered how his powers worked, and one time he figured it out for himself.

"You have no idea," Dick said. "I had to live through all of their teenage years. They were each independently obsessed with Mythbusters at separate points in their life. I'm pretty sure Cass and Tim have wanted a meta to experiment on since they were 14, but Bruce always said no."”

 Scare by Jinmukang

3k+ | T+ | Complete | Gen | No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Dick & Duke, Dick & Bruce

“And Dick had failed Duke. He brought Duke out, but he didn't prepare for an actual attack.

Dick got Duke captured. 

By Scarecrow. 

It was all his fault.” 

Leadership by PepperSoniRoni @peppersonironi

2k+ | G | Complete | Gen | No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Dick & Duke, Duke & The Team (Young Justice)

“Nightwing offers Signal a chance to lead a small group for a mission. Duke is wary, but accepts the challenge. He proves to be a rather great leader.

Takes place after Season Two of Young Justice, and ignores Season Three (I still haven’t seen it, unfortunately).

For Duke Week Day Five: Leadership”

as close as hands and feet by jcp_sob_rjl_lmep

4k+ | T+ | Complete | Gen | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Duke & Damian

“It never should have happened.

Flamebird was tying up the man he had just knocked out - the last of the conscious men, he had thought - when Signal shouted his name and he was pushed to the side.

A gun went off.

When Duke gets shot on patrol, Damian is the only person left in the city to help him. Will he be able to keep his brother alive until help arrives?”

Duke Week 2020 series by Crysalinastar @crystalinastar

This one is such a varied group of Duke-centric fics, mostly gen but also has one or two ships thrown in there. The ones I’ve had time to read were pretty great and I’d definitely suggest checking out this entire series!

Could feel the trouble coursing by Ducky_Dynasty

3k+ | NR | Complete | Gen | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Steph & Duke & Jason & Damian, Tim & Duke, Steph & Cass & Tim & Duke

"Gotham became darker, it was obvious in the way shadows seemed to spread further through the city, spilling into the roads, the Bat and Spoiler were harsh though, cold and unforgiving, relentless in their pursuit of justice."

Or

Duke's not sure about much, but he'll be there for his family best he can.”

tradition by ace_corvid

2k+ | G | Complete | Gen | No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Duke & Bruce 

““Would you like to- Hmm.” Bruce couldn't seem to find the right words. “There's a... Well, there's a small tradition that I have with all of the boys, from when they were smaller.”

“Oh, yeah?” Duke feigned disinterest. “Well I'm not exactly small these days, but I'm open to anything.”

“We could go get some ice cream?” He offered, and this has to be one of the most awkward conversations Duke has ever had the pleasure of being a part of, but he can't help but be touched by the gesture. He must have done this with all of the Robins, and well, for want of a better word it's nearly sweet that he wants to do it with Duke too.”

[twdmusicboxmystery]

The Orange Backpack Symbol

So, we’ve been batting around the symbol of the orange backpack for a LONG time. We first saw it on a hitch hiker in 3x10, Clear, when Rick and Michonne went and found Morgan. We’ve seen it and things like it many times since. We still aren’t entirely sure what it means, but these are some ideas we’re batting around.

(Not my edit but just thought it was funny. It shows the fandom picks up on these symbols, even if they often don’t know what to do with them.  😊) I’ll give you my fellow theorist’s observations, first. They are excellent and most likely correct, even if we can’t say for sure, yet. Then I’ll chime in with a few of my own.

@frangipanilove:

I’m still uncertain about the Orange backpack symbolism versus regular backpacks. It sort of depends on the Dutch angles from Coda. If the term “Dutch angles” was something that came from TPTB, then I can make a strong case about Orange being tied to Beth. If it didn’t come from the horse’s mouth then it’s a much weaker connection. It could still be a thing, but it’s just not a case I can argue very convincingly.

@twdmusicboxmystery: For the record, though we haven’t heard tptb specifically mention “dutch angles” in any particular interview that we know of, I do believe we can safely say this came from them. It was talked about in the fandom a LOT and I believe the writers themselves leaked the first idea for it. It’s also part of the “on screen notes” in the Amazon digital version of the episode. Amazon has no involvement in the show other than carrying it and wouldn’t know what to put in the on-screen notes. Which means they come from the production itself. So I DO believe the “dutch angles” idea can be seen as something confirmed by the writers. Back to @frangipanilove:

@frangipanilove​: But either way, I believe the “back” in backpack is a reference to “come back” or “return”, “resurrection”, Sirius symbolism. Same with “back pocket”, as well as the torsos we’ve seen sometimes. My reasoning behind that is from season 3 when Merle returned to the show, and Michonne wrote a “biter gram” where she used a walker’s back to symbolize “go back” to Merle.

The original Orange backpack in 3x10, Clear, can be tied to return symbolism in many ways. They initially ignored the guy, then later saw him dead. They passed him, but returned to grab the backpack. 

And we’ve seen the backpack numerous times since, and it’s easy to tie it to reunions and returns to one’s family etc. We saw it in Michonne’s trippy vision with Virgil as well. Basically, it’s more return symbolism, because she’s going after Rick. She’ll find him, but even if she doesn’t, the return symbolism has already happened in that she found his boots and the iPhone (apple symbol) with the etching. That’s return symbolism.

(To her, Rick is dead, but these told her he might still be alive, so he’s just been resurrected in her mind.)

So, I view the backpack symbolism as return symbolism, and then the question is if Orange is a symbol that adds something different to the symbolism, or if it just enhances the return symbolism.

@wdway​:

It's funny that we're having a discussion about the brownish orange or rust color backpack because I wanted us to discuss it, haha. I've been thinking of it quite a bit in the last few weeks and I agree with you to a certain point, @Frangi, about it possibly being a reunions symbol.

I guess the difference for me is that I believe it also represents a journey. Some journeys are shorter than others, but a journey that reunites you to a person you have not seen for a long time, or even possibly thought were dead. In my head, that's for the rusty orange color.

In the Clear episode, team Rick passes the guy with the backpack, they journey to his hometown where he reunited with Morgan, someone who he was not expecting to see and may even believed was dead. The difference is, he picks up the backpack on his return home.

With Glenn, his rusty orange backpack journey was longer, but he ultimately reunited with Maggie who he hoped was alive but was not certain.

Daryl wore the rusty colored backpack when he, Rosita, and Denise took a short journey to a nearby community. On their way back home, they encounter Dwight. It was a reunion, but not a good one. And although Dwight was alive, the last Daryl had seen him, I'm sure Daryl hoped Dwight was dead.

It occurred to me while I was doing my research about the red rag that Daryl is wearing a rusty orange with brown legging on his right leg when he is on a journey to find/reunite the body of Rick. I need to go back and check but at the D.C. capital, there was a banner of an eye that we believe to be Emily's/Beth's. I believe that banner was a rusty orange, which would mean that there would be a reunion with someone that would require a journey to be reunited with someone believed to be dead.

I believe a regular or bright orange could possibly also be a journey color, but not necessarily a reunion with someone the person believed to be dead. Virgil had a bright or regular orange backpack when he found Connie. And yes, Connie was believed to possibly be dead but we are not led to believe that Virgil knew Connie, so the reunions part of it does not apply. Only the journey he had taken from his Island.

I do not know if tptb actually mentioned Dutch angles but I have seen several interviews of movie directors over the years that have used Dutch angle and have commented that it is something taught in film school that could represent something being somewhat out of tilt, something that is not quite right. I do want to mention that in the episode Stalker that has Daryl and Alpha in the garage there was Dutch angles around Alpha which ties it to the episode, Coda.

I think there were better images of the eye in the promo pictures for that season. The second shot is in the entry hall where they showed all of the different exhibits, banners in different colors, etc. What I want to point out is that chevron at the bottom. The banner looks like it reads, “Natural History,” and maybe the word “Living.”

@frangipanilove:

Regarding the Orange cover on Daryl’s leg, I interpret it as boot symbolism (it covers his leg = boot = trunk), which is synonymous with trunk symbolism IMO. That’s also what we see after Michonne has had her hallucination, including the orange backpack; she finds Rick’s boots in the boat. Boots = trunk and boat = vessel = vehicle.

So, I interpret in a way that ultimately points to the story of survival by way of trunk (three/tree/trunk symbolism). In Michonne’s case, it points towards Rick’s survival story, but because of the blue heron painting (among other things) we know that Rick’s story and Beth’s story are two versions of the same story.

So, when I interpret the symbolism around Michonne in that episode as pointing towards a reunion with Rick (or return to Rick), it means I also interpret the same symbolism as pointing towards Beth’s survival.

The banner in the museum in 9x1 IMO is eye = Sirius symbolism. This is because of Sirius as the “heavenly dog with a star in its eye” from the Robert Frost poem, and therefore also a reference to the one-eyed dog from Alone, among other things.

And in 9x1, the eye banner is orange, and Daryl’s leg wrap is orange. Which ties orange symbolism, eye symbolism and boot (Daryl’s leg) symbolism into Sirius symbolism. The orange backpack = return/resurrection. Daryl’s leg wrapping = boot = trunk = return/resurrection. The orange eye banner = Sirius = return/resurrection.

Also, I don’t think they will ever comment on whose eye it is on the banner, but you cannot convince me that it’s not Emily’s eye unless they specifically deny it.

This is a very short explanation of the symbolism pathway that leads me to think back = return. It’s a way to explain it that fits into my system. But basically, I believe what you say about a journey is just a different aspect of it. They’re slightly different ways of ending up at more or less the same spot. But in order to have a return, there kind of has to be a journey involved, otherwise it’s not much of a return, right?

Actually, I don’t know where you guys stand on this now, but I remember when the Michonne episode aired, @twdmusicboxmystery interpreted the apple symbolism as “separation.” I interpreted it as kind of the opposite: apples as a symbol of “bringing your family back, as Virgil said after poisoning Michonne. She said it took her family away from her, but I believe tptb use the apple symbolism as pointing towards reunion/return/resurrection.

My point is, we’re both right because they are two sides to the same story. There can’t be reunion unless there has been some sort of separation first. So, it could seem like I interpret the apple symbolism opposite to what @twdmusicboxmystery said after the episode, but I actually don’t think about it that way. I think we’re both picking up on what’s important about the apple symbolism, and then we use slightly different word to describe it.

I focus on the return/resurrection part, but in order to have that, there has to be some kind of separation or journey preceding it. You can’t reunite with someone you haven’t been separated from, and most likely, there’s a journey involved. Otherwise, it wouldn’t make much sense, right?

We first saw the eye banner when spoiler pictures from filming 9x1 emerged. They made no attempt to prevent the spoiler pics from coming out, they actually made quite the spectacle of it instead. I actually find that very interesting, because if it really is Emily’s eye, which I’m fully convinced it is, then it was a very loud announcement to TD about Beth, the eye/Sirius symbolism and also the orange symbolism.

We first saw Daryl’s leg wrapping in Stradivarius, right? We see the orange leg wrapping (IMO a boot/trunk reference) in Stradivarius, which is kind of the first we see of Daryl after the time skip, if you don’t count the small clip from the opening minutes of 9x6, which is an interesting clip. But you actually don’t see the orange leg wrapping there.

Which, if you don’t count the clip from 9x6 is kind of the first chronological appearance by Daryl after FM. You see him transitioning into the orange leg wrapping in FM, but chronologically that’s set in the time between 9x5 and 9x7. I love the little clip from 9x6, so packed with symbolism. But I do find it interesting that it doesn’t show the orange leg wrapping. It’s like they went out of their way to NOT show it. No idea if that’s significant or not, but certainly interesting.

@wdway:

You're right Frangi at the core we pretty much all believe the same thing. I agree totally with the eye banner being symbolism of Sirius the one-eyed dog but I also was very excited about seeing the Chevron symbol at the end of the entry hall banners, all in colors that can be tied to Beth. To me it speaks that there will be some type of military tie between the Sirius symbol (Beth) and the Chevron symbol (Commonwealth/CRM)

@frangipanilove: Yeah, agree on the chevron. They really like to pile on the symbols, don’t they. It’s symbolism on top of symbolism.

@wdway: We did actually see a quick glimpse of Daryl's orange legging in Who Are You Now, immediately following the reveal of the X on Michonne's back.

@frangipanilove: That’s awesome. Because that means that when we see it in Find Me, it’s the first time in the chronology he wears it. Assuming he had the orange leg cover during the entirety of 9x6, it means the very first time we see Daryl wearing it is when he’s standing waist-deep in the water spear fishing. Obviously, we don’t see it, but I’m going to assume we’re meant to believe he’s wearing it in the water while spear fishing.

Spear fishing is something we saw with both Leah and Carol in FM. He threw a fish at the front door with the X. In 9x6 we saw him catch a fish on the spear, then immediately a walker emerges from the water. All very strong symbols. Michonne has a very poignant voiceover, lots of symbolism there as well. He sees a walker representing himself grown into the tree trunks (three I believe). It reaches out for him, or something. Then the blue bird comes, grabs the ear worm, we see the nest, the bird babies. More poignant monologue from Michonne, tiny beacons of light etc.

@twdmusicboxmystery

What actually kicked off this conversation not long after Fear, 6x12, In Dreams aired, was that I noticed in Grace’s dream, when she met her daughter Athena, Athena was wearing an orange backpack. Not THE orange backpack, but another one.

I don’t have tons to add except to say that I totally agree with these two ladies. Another, slightly different (though not really) way you could look at it is that backpack always appears before someone dies, but there’s always a return as on the horizon as well.

In Clear, as @wdway mentioned, Morgan qualifies as a resurrection and return, but the hitchhiker carrying the backpack also died. In this case, Morgan also disappeared again, not to reappear until 5x01. So it was also the beginning of another separation between Rick and Morgan.

I seem to remember Carl having the backpack in 3x16, just before TF finally kicked the Governor’s butt. I’ve often wondered if it was a death omen for Carl. And it may have been, given that this is the episode where Gimple took over and probably planned Carl’s arc. But that wouldn’t come for a long time. 

It’s more likely that it meant other things. Many of the Gov’s people actually did die, but that also kicked off the Gov’s arc where he disappeared and didn’t return until 4x08 when he bulldozed the prison. And there were HEAVY Beth parallels during those two episodes (4x06-07) about him. There were also smaller returns here, such as Karen returning to Tyreese at Woodbury, and them finding Andrea. Though she, too, actually died.

Michonne’s vision with Virgil has been covered pretty well here. Clearly it’s leading toward her finding Rick (reunion) but also kicks off her separation from her kids, Daryl and the rest of TF. We didn’t see obvious death around her, but I’m sure there will be some in her coming arc. The fact that she keeps ending up with Negan’s bat in her hands is proof enough of that.

I’m sure you can also see how the orange backpack ties into the left/right/back pocket symbolism as well.

So yeah. I think you get the idea. It’s a fascinating symbol, isn’t it? And one we’ll definitely keep an eye on moving forward. Thoughts?

[riacte]

Unnecessary Hermit MCC Team Speculation

So according to Scott, teams are in the works, applications likely closed a few days ago, MCC 14 date is known to participants, MCC Twitter says they’re gonna steal CPK’s spotlight after wishing him a happy birthday. So we’re getting MCC 14 relatively soon. Hence I’m making my 284927391 hermit MCC team speculation.

Hermit duos:

Actually I think we’ll be seeing more duos in MCC S2.

1) Hermits and Scott have probably realized hermit duos perform way better than trios/ quartet (the only hermit duo team that didn’t get to DB is the first time False and Ren played)

2) They wanna meet new people, but they also want to play with friends. So 2+2 will be a good combo. You can meet new people while having a buddy you a stick to.

False + Cub

I don’t think any of the hermits are confirmed to join (Doc has shown interest) but I feel these two would most likely be in MCC 14?

1) False has been in every MCC since debut

2) Cub plays every other MCC, and he skipped MCC 13

3) Most important of all, they’ve both been polishing their skills through parkour and speedrunning etc. I think they’re currently the most competitive of the hermits, so I won’t be surprised at all if they pair up for a competitive team.

False + Grian

A surprisingly popular duo in post-MCC 13 team predictions. I like them as a duo, and I used to think we’ll have a bigger chance of getting False + Cub/Ren, but now I think about, the team predictions may be right.

1) False has been with Ren and Cub for their first victory, so according to ✨meta✨ she’ll be with Grian for his first victory and her third. The Hermit Winner enabler.

2) Grian is the only hermit regular who hasn’t won yet, and really really wants to win (he said he was gonna cry himself to sleep after he lost MCC 13 lol)

3) False is seen as the most competitive

So if Grian wants to win and go full competitive, and I feel Scott will likely pair him with False. Also Reddit loves this duo apparently. Another incentive.

False + Ren

Ah yes, the hermit team staple. Ex base-buddies my beloved. The duo that’s always been together. I miss them lmfao

I feel they’re gonna continue pairing up because False said she’s gonna collect all ranks with Ren? Also I feel Ren likely asks for False every time (Scott said someone asked for False back in MCC 9, we thought it was H, but apparently neither H or Fruit specified a person, so I guess it’s Ren. Makes sense because Ren’s with False literally every single time).

There’s not much to say except if they team up again, everyone saw it coming.

But also exactly because they’ve teamed up for so many times that they may decided to split for a MCC or two? That doesn’t seem to be what they’re doing though.

Ren + Cub

Honestly every time I think of this potential duo, I just see False sandwiched between them lmao. Because this a hermit trio. These two are probably False’s most frequent collaborators?? (Although there’s not much False and Ren collab this season)

Basically I somehow can’t see this happening without False. I’m sorry lmao

Grian + Cub

To a lot of people’s surprise, they haven’t teamed before. They’re probably the duo that collabs the least often on Hermitcraft so I kinda get why. Still wanna see this duo.

Grian + Ren

They’re close enough that they apparently visit each other irl. Which is very sweet. I can honestly see them as a duo, just chilling and having fun.

Hermit trios:

False + Ren + Grian/Cub. With the FRG trio happening more often in recent MCCs, FRC trio happening more often in the early, chill days. Hermit trio + S tier (aka. Lime Liches) is the most powerful version of hermit trios, and may even rival the strength of hermit duo + S tier teams.

FRG:

Honestly this seems like a feasible trio, especially when Cub skips a MCC/ plays with non hermits (MCC 7, 11, 12). There’s also the Lime Liches bias with this trio, so Scott might be more inclined to put them together?

Also if Cub skips, it means Scott will either have to make a hermit duo + solo hermit OR make a hermit trio. And Scott will probably put the solo hermit with hermit adjacent (eg. Grian with Pearl). Also pretty sure for this case, it’s gonna be False + Ren duo, Grian with hermit adjacent people just like MCC 9. That being said, MCC 9 was special because I think False and Ren specifically said they were gonna go competitive, while Grian not, so it makes sense for the split. For the current meta of competitive hermits, it might be easier for Scott to stuff the hermits together in a trio (eg. Lime Liches)??

FRC:

The last time this trio appeared was MCC 8. From that moment onwards, Cub has been in competitive teams either in a duo or solo, and had gotten to Dodgebolt in all his post-MCC 8 tourneys. So I honestly don’t know if we’ll see them together again. Maybe we’ll get something like Lime Liches.

New hermits:

I can see False-Ren-Doc as a trio for Doc’s first MCC.

1) This team appeared in CotC

2) To use Ren and Doc’s words: #ShipRendoc

3) Putting False here because I feel non hermits will be very ?!!???? at the Rendoc flirting

I can also see Iskall in a hermit trio. In particular Iskall-Grian-Ren

1) We got Team FRIC in MCC 5, so maybe something new?

2) Renskall. That’s it.

3) Everyone wants Grian-Iskall interaction, especially because they don’t collab that much this season compared to the last

But really I can see Iskall with every hermit regular. The reason I feel newcomers will be in trios not duos is that having two veterans to coach the newbie(s) is better than having one.

Hermit quartet

Genuinely don’t think this will happen if the hermits go competitive. Maybe we’ll get this for a chill MCC. Maybe not.

The hermit quartet in MCC 5 did pretty good though, but team standards have changed a lot since then. I kinda wanna see Iskall in another hermit quartet.

Others:

The famous Grian-False-Techno-Wilbur team, if you ignore the swearing thing and opposite Dodgebolt strategies. This team will have a fuckton of clout, probably comparable to MCC 13 Pink.

I actually feel this might happen because it’s highly popular and highly requested

But also 1) the swearing thing 2) Scott tends to put people who have similar attitudes (eg. hermits play with people who advocate arrow splitting) 3) they’re a powerful team. So maybe not.

Lime Liches. I seriously believe this might happen because of the very high demand and the Blue Bats bias. They got screwed over bc of parkour, many people think they deserve a redemption. They’re not too strong as a team either. It’ll be like MCC 8/9 Green.

Also the Fruit+Grian duo. I’m pretty sure this duo will happen at least once in S2. Grian famously commented he wants to team with Fruit, Fruit replied, even had an alt Twitch called “grianstanaccount”. Won’t be surprised at ALL if they ask for each other. Maybe this will happen along with LL redemption.

Hermits and H? This is to pacify the Blue Bats fandom. Also if we have hermit trio + Fruit, why not H lmao. But H said he wants to play with new people, and I think he said he wants to team with Puffy, sooo.... imagine we get sth like False Cub H Puffy. Lmao.

Hermits and Dream? I said I can’t see this happening, esp with Ren, but maybe Scott will do it for the Dreamslayer memes

Hermits and Quig? After Pete and Fruit, Quig is probably the most hermit friendly S tier. I think people said he would vibe well with the hermits. Quig is also involved in the X Life circle, which overlaps with the hermits’ circle.

Anyways. I’ve liked all Hermit teams so far, I’m sure Scott will make them fantastic as always. If you’ve reached this point, thank you for reading my pointless speculation. See you when MCC 14 teams are revealed :)

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.37

Word Count: 2.949

Characters: Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Peter Hale, Lydia Martin, Ethan Steiner, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey (mentioned), Aiden Steiner (mentioned), Kali (mentioned), Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, some fluff, death

A/N: Season 3A is now complete

Masterlist     Series Masterlist

You wrapped your arms around Derek’s unconscious body, pulling him to the bed as Cora sat up, groaning.

You felt slightly worried, trying your best to ignore it. He was no longer an alpha, but both of them would be okay. If Derek ever woke up.

“How do you feel?” you asked.

“Good… what happened to him?” she asked, motioning to Derek.

“He’s fine. Well, he’s alive. He’ll wake up sooner or later,” you said, walking over to Cora as you wrapped your arms around her tightly.

“He better wake up soon. There's a full moon tonight, which means his time is over, and Kali is on her way,” you looked at the sun setting as Peter paced around.

“Maybe you guys should leave,” you suggested.

“I’m fine,” Derek groaned, sitting up as you tensed slightly.

“You’re not strong enough to take on Kali. You and Cora should get out of town,” you said.

“For once, I agree with (Y/N),” Peter nodded.

“We’re not running away,” Cora ran to get Derek some water as you opened your mouth to speak, getting interrupted by a call from Lydia.

“Hey, what happened?” you asked.

“We found the nemeton. But, me and Ethan are right outside the loft,” she said.

You furrowed your eyebrows, running to the door as you pulled it open.

Ethan stood nervously, Lydia standing next to him.

“What are they doing here?” Peter groaned.

“We’re helping you to find a way to escape.”

---

“No,” Derek started.

“Uhm, yes.” you crossed your arms.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, we’re not running away.”

“Yes, you are,” you clenched your teeth.

“(Y/N), no-”

“Shut your stubborn ass up and get the hell out of here. You are not at full strength, Kali is coming here, right now. She's going to kill you. Peter is taking you and Cora to get another car, and then you’re out of here,” you continued to scold Derek as the rest of them outside the doors of the loft, not wanting to interfere.

“So what? You’re gonna hold her off? You and Ethan?” he scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Yes, we will. You’re leaving and you have no choice,” you pushed past him as he grabbed your arm, pulling you back as you glared.

“Then what if you get hurt? What if she hurts you?” he asked.

“She didn’t last time, she won’t this time,” you rolled your eyes.

You clenched your fist tightly, feeling an aching pain in your head as you tried to ignore it. 

“But now you’re trying to protect me,” he pointed out.

“Look,” you started.

“Will you just listen to me for five seconds?” he raised his voice.

You exhaled sharply, looking up at him. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt (Y/N), please listen to me,” he begged.

You stroked his cheek softly, breathing softly as he looked down at you.

“Somnum,” your eyes turned black, as he gasped softly, closing his eyes as he fell to the ground.

You closed your eyes, taking a breath as you walked to the rest of them.

“So, do we have a plan?”

---

“Isaac just said that Scott’s dad was at Argent’s house. He’s holding them right now,” you sighed, reading your texts from Isaac as you looked up.

“Okay, well, Derek and Cora are heading out of town now. I have no idea where Peter is,” Lydia shrugged.

You heard your phone going off again.

“It’s Stiles,” you said, reading the texts.

“Me and Lydia can hold her up. Aiden’s on our side too. You should go help your friends,” Ethan nodded softly.

You nodded, running off.

---

“What is it?” you looked at Stiles from the passenger seat as he anxiously drove through Beacon Hills.

“I’ve just had this big headache,” he sighed.

You looked outside the window, seeing lighting from the sky.

“Maybe I should drive then,” you offered.

“No, it's fine. I’ve just been feeling weird since we did that thing,” he sighed.

“What thing?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Sort of like what you did, when you lost your powers, the ice bath thingy. We made a sacrifice to the nemeton to try to find it,” Stiles swerved slightly, putting his hands on his head.

“Sorry,” he said.

“You did what?! You guys could've died! Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped!” you immediately scolded him.

“You were trying to help Cora,” he interrupted.

“I can’t believe you… you piece of-” you groaned, frustrated as you took a big breath, clenching your fist.

“Sorry, my head…” he swerved again as you tensed up, putting your hands on the wheel.

“Stiles?” he fell to the side, leaning on your arm as your heart began to race.

You could see the storm getting worse, hearing thunder as you turned the wheel, trying to keep the car in your control.

He laid unconscious on you as you pushed him aside as quickly as you could, trying to keep the car from hitting anything.

You could barely see the view in front of you, blocked out and covered by leaves and twigs. You winced as you heard someone screech, covering your ears with your head. 

“Oh shit!” you turned the wheel quickly, taking a deep breath before seeing the tree in front of you. You quickly moved, trying to shield Stiles as quickly as you could. 

“Stiles!”

---

You opened your eyes, groaning as you felt blood trickling from your wound on your head. Stiles continued to lay unconscious as you tried to push him up. You tried to move, finding a sharp pain shoot up from your leg as you screamed. You could see your eyesight blurring as you yelled out for Stiles.

“Stiles!” you yelled, watching as he jumped up. 

“W-What?! What happened?!” he yelled. 

“We need to get out,” you said.

He pushed open his door, falling out as he gasped for air. 

“H-How did this happen?” he asked, standing up shakily as he reached for your hand.

“Go find the nemeton and save them,” you said.

“I-I can’t leave you here. Y-You’re stuck,” he stuttered.

“Capitulum quintum,” you used your magic, forcing the door open as you fell out.

“I-I,” he stuttered, running his fingers through his hair as you stood up, leaning against the car, breathing heavily. 

“You gotta go to the nemeton on your own… Lydia’s in trouble,” you said.

“What? How do you know?” he asked.

“I heard her scream. Just go. Take your bat in case there’s any trouble,” you said.

He reached for his bat, grabbing it before he gave you a look.

“Your head’s bleeding,” he said.

“Go,” your voice was distorted as you clenched your jaw, pushing yourself up as your eyes went black.

---

You entered Derek's loft, immediately met with the faces of Derek, Jennifer, Lydia, and Cora. 

You noticed Kali’s dead body on the corner, along with Ethan and Aiden’s.

“You’re supposed to be on your way out of here,” you raised an eyebrow.

“You little,” Derek pulled your arm, harshly yanking you to the side.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he yelled, pushing you against the wall.

“I was trying to save your life!” you yelled back.

“By hurting yourself?!”

“In case you didn't realize, Kali is laying there, dead, and I wasn't even here to begin with!” you yelled.

“Why is your head bleeding?” he asked immediately, scrunching his eyes.

You twisted his arm back, pushing him away from you.

“What the hell are you doing here, Jennifer?” you clenched your jaw.

“I need yours and Derek’s help. To kill Deucalion,” she said.

“Let the sheriff, Melissa and Argent go and maybe we’ll consider it,” you said.

“She said she’ll let them go if we help her,” Derek sighed.

“First, I don’t trust you. Second, we should just kill you right here, right now. Third, Deucalion will be at his lowest right now. The rest of his pack is dead, we don’t need anyone else,” you said.

“Except he’s not alone. He has Scott wrapped around his little finger,” Jeniffer retorted.

“Well, Scott knows what he’s doing,” you crossed your arms.

“You haven't seen Deucalion at his strongest. I have. That’s why I need your help. If we help each other,” she started.

“Forget it,” you shook your head.

“We’re doing it to save them, (Y/N),” Derek said.

“So then what happens when you go fight Deucalion? Kill Scott too? Scott’s on his side,” you scoffed.

“We’re not gonna kill Scott. Look, we have the eclipse in our favor. Deucalion will be powerless, that’s when we strike,” he said.

“She’s worse than Deucalion! How can you not see it?!” you yelled.

“Deucalion was trying to kill me!” he yelled.

“That was Kali! God, you’re so stupid! How can you trust a single thing that comes out of her mouth?! Didn't she abandon you in the hospital? Kidnap Melissa and Argent and Stilinski! Why are you still covering for her?! She killed 9 innocent people, and she’s gonna kill more,” you could feel your head throbbing harshly as you clenched your fists as tight as you could, almost 100 percent sure your palms were bleeding now.

He looked at you silently, crossing his arms. He scratched his forehead twice, giving you a look as you inhaled deeply.

“So, fuck you, Jennifer, and goodbye,” you rolled your eyes, walking out of the loft as you pulled out your phone, texting Derek.

---

Your hands were shaking as you took a deep breath, hiding outside the building, awaiting the eclipse. The plan was fairly simple, wait till they all lose their power and then use a spell to trap both Deucalion and Jennifer. 

Deucalion wasn't a bad person, you couldn't see him as one, for whatever reason. But Jennifer killed innocent people. She was selfish and only cared about power. You tried your hardest not to bring your own feelings into the reasons why you hated her. Derek cheated on you with her. But she did a spell on him, so it wasn't his fault. You kept thinking back to that fact, finding it hard to process that. It wasn't his fault. She manipulated him. 

But he hurt you. He said he never loved you, not her. He said the two of you were a mistake, not her. But he didn't mean it, did he?

His words continued playing through your head on repeat, as you tried to ignore him. You let your emotions overcome your and your powers, now you killed your dad. Now you're always angry and in pain. It takes all your might to not try and kill everyone around you. But it was different with Derek. It was more painful with him. It’s like he was your anchor.

You looked up, seeing the sky turn an orange hue as you jumped up. That was your signal.

You ran into the building, looking around cautiously. Deucalion was nearly unconscious, laying on the floor, Scott staying in the corner. Jennifer stood up, towering over a bloodied Derek as your eyes went black.

“Lignum unum,” you pulled Jennifer away from Derek, using your magic to hold her down on her knees.

“Saepem coici,” you put a small barrier around the two of you, trapping her with you.

“That was a bad idea for you,” she chuckled, strained.

You squeezed your fist tighter, hearing her gasp for breath.

“(Y/N), d-don’t!” Derek yelled.

You ignored him, clenching your jaw as you tried to hold her down.

“She has her powers still! The plan didn't work!” he yelled.

You continued trying to hold her down, taking a deep breath. You could do this. 

You could hear high-pitched ringing in your ears, wincing slightly as you attempted to hold the barrier together, attempting to hold her down.

“A te removere potentiam,” you continued going along with the plans, trying to stay strong as your head began aching from the noise.

“You can’t do that, (Y/N),” Jennifer began to stand up slowly, fighting your magic as you scrunched your eyes, trying to block out the sound.

“Oppilaverunt in perpetuum,” you let out a soft cry, saying one more spell as you fell to your knees. 

“Your little plan backfired. It’s over for you. Stupid move, trapping us both in here. Now you'll die all alone,” she fake pouted.

“Inter duo,” you saw her stumble backward, looking at you.

“If you kill me, you die too. I linked us,” you struggled to speak as blood began falling from your nose, ears, and eyes.

“No, no you didn't!” she screamed.

She turned slowly, blood dripping from her as well.

“W-We…. can both die in here…. or you can stop,” you gasped for air as you laid on the ground.

You let out a cry, feeling pain ebbing throughout your body as blood dripped.

She whispered something softly, as you felt something break inside you as you screamed in pain.

“(Y/N)?!” you heard Derek yell.

“Let go of me. Now,” she yelled.

“If you hurt me, you hurt yourself,” you cried.

“Then I’ll hurt Derek,” she said.

You turned to him, watching as she used her magic to hold him against the wall, struggling for breath.

“N-No,” you whimpered.

“Let me go!” she screamed.

“Confractus link Index!” you screamed, breaking the link between the two of you, along with the barrier.

She kicked you harshly in the stomach, throwing you back as you groaned, Derek immediately falling to his feet, running to you.

“I-I’m sorry… It’s my fault. I-I thought she was going to lose her powers. God, you’re bleeding so much,” he wrapped his arms around you, lifting up your head as he held it in her arms.

“I-It’s not… your…. h-how long left till the eclipse is over?” you asked softly.

“Now,” you heard Scott’s voice.

Derek’s eyes turned blue, growling softly.

Jennifer grabbed a vial filled with mountain ash, throwing it around herself to keep the three of you out.

“Let go of (Y/N),” Scott growled.

“Or what? You can't do anything to me,” she scoffed.

You saw a small blue light shining, from the corner of your eyes as you squinted, watching Scott try and break the barrier.

“S-Scott,” you whispered.

You gasped softly, watching as Jennifer collapsed to the side, backing away from Scott.

“Let (Y/N) go. Stop the storm or I’ll kill you, I don't care what it does to the color of my eyes,” Scott threatened, his eyes flashing red.

“He’s an alpha,” you said.

“Shh, don't speak,” Derek whispered, holding your hand as he took your pain.

“It won't do anything to mine,” you watched as Deucalion stood up, walking past you and Derek as he used his claws to slash Jennifer’s throat, in one quick motion.

You gasped for air as his body fell limp, holding onto Derek.

“She’s dead. She’s dead,” he wiped your cheeks softly, cleaning away some of the blood.

It was done. She was gone. It was over.

---

“So, demon wolf? That’s how you knew so much about me turning into a demon,” you leaned against the door, talking with Deucalion.

“Yes, and also, I do have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he put his fingers on your forehead, as you closed your eyes, feeling a warm sensation pulse throughout your body.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly shocked.

“Of course,” he nodded.

“Is there any way to stop it from happening?” you asked softly.

“I’m afraid there isn’t. At least not to my knowledge. But I will tell you this, witches don't usually have anchors. Consider yourself lucky for him,” Deucalion motioned to Derek.

You smiled softly, pushing yourself up as you put your hand out.

“Stay good, Duke,” you smiled softly.

“Duke?” he questioned.

“What? It’s short for Deucalion,” you shrugged.

“Very well then. Take care, (Y/N),” he shook your hand, before turning his back, walking off.

You walked to Derek and Scott, both of them turning to you.

“How are you feeling?” Derek asked.

“Good, Deucalion healed me. What about you two?” you replied.

Derek nodded, as the two of you looked at Scott.

“Well, I’m apparently an alpha now. My mom’s safe. So is Argent and Sheriff Stilinski,” he sighed.

“Well then, time to go home?” you suggested.

Both of them nodded, linking arms with the two of them, resting your head on Scott's shoulder as the three of you walked away.

---

“I’m going back to South America,” you turned to face Cora, your eyes watering.

“You’re leaving?” you asked softly.

She nodded, as you wrapped your arms around her tightly.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” you sniffled.

“Come with me,” she said.

“I can’t,” you shook your head.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Beacon Hills is my home, Cora. I’ve been living here for the past 19 years, I don't want to leave,” you said.

Cora froze for a second, before sniffling softly.

“You stupid bitch. Making me cry and crap,” she scoffed.

You laughed softly, looking at her.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you said.

“Well, you’re coming with me right now. Derek’s taking me to South America. You’re coming too,” she said.

“What?” you replied.

“You’ll be back in, like, a week. Come on,” she pulled you to the window, seeing Derek and Peter arguing about something, leaning on his car.

“Fine. But only if you promise to text me and call me like every day, okay?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Deal” she nodded, yanking your arm as she pulled you to the car, while you rolled your eyes.

“Hey,” you said to Derek and Peter.

Derek smiled at you softly, earning a glare from Peter.

“So, let’s hit the road, shall we?”

[clonewarsarchives]

Inside 'Star Wars: The Clone Wars'

By: Gerri Miller  (original article link on howstuffworks)

Sources

George Lucas interviewed August 4, 2008

Dave Filoni interviewed September 11, 2008

The sci-fi phenomenon that began more than 30 years ago with a movie about a galaxy long ago and far, far away has expanded exponentially ever since with sequels, prequels, books, games and animated spinoffs. Although the animated "Star Wars: The Clone Wars" movie, released this summer, has to date grossed a less than stellar $34 million, it was an offshoot of creator George Lucas' mission to create a TV series, and it served its purpose as a promotional tool for the weekly "Clone Wars" episodes that premiere on Cartoon Network Oct. 3, 2008.

Focused on the conflict briefly referred to in the original "Star Wars," the galactic civil war takes place in the period between "Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones" and "Episode III: Revenge of the Sith." The Clone Wars pit the Grand Army of the Republic led by the Jedi Knights against the Separatists and their Droid Army, led by Count Dooku, a Jedi turned Sith Lord aligned with the evil Darth Sidious. Many of the characters from the "Star Wars" universe are involved, including Yoda, Obi-Wan Kenobi and young Anakin Skywalker, before he was tempted to the Dark Side and became Darth Vader.

"I was lamenting the fact that in 'Episode II,' I started the Clone Wars, and in 'Episode III,' I ended the Clone Wars, and I never actually got to do anything on the Clone Wars," says Lucas. "It's like skipping over World War II."

To remedy that omission, he tapped Dave Filoni, an animator (Nickelodeon's "Avatar: the Last Airbender" series) and passionate "Star Wars" fan, to bring "The Clone Wars" to TV.

Ensconced at Big Rock Ranch, near Lucas' Skywalker Ranch headquarters in Marin County, Cali., Filoni and his team of artists and computer animators are making 22 episodes in season one and have nearly two more seasons written.

"We're way ahead. We've been doing this ever since I finished 'Revenge of the Sith,'" says Lucas, who hopes to do at least 100 installments.

He and Filoni collaborate on everything from story to design to execution in translating the "Star Wars" universe for television. It's a daunting creative, technical and logistic task, as we'll explain in the following sections.

Building the Universe

How do you scale down an IMAX-size spectacle for television and still have it make an impact, especially on a small screen budget? That's just one of the problems Dave Filoni has to solve.

"'Star Wars' is very famous for the scale of it, and how convincing it looks. So when you're doing a weekly television series, you have to figure out how to do things on that level," he notes. "Sometimes it forces you to be creative and come up with solutions that are better than if you can shoot everything you want," he continues, preferring to consider budgetary constraints a creative incentive rather than a limitation. "The team here is challenged to come up with these giant battles. We haven't shied away from anything."

While he did some of the initial character design, subsequently, Filoni has spent most of his time supervising other artists and animators, who number around 70 in-house and another 80 or so at facilities in Singapore and Taipei.

"Everything is written here, and the story and design and editing are all done here. The animation and lighting are done overseas, and sometimes some modeling as well," he outlines.

­"I meet with George to talk about the episodes and he hands out a lot of the storylines and main ideas for the stories. I'll draw while he's talking and show him the sketch," Filoni continues. "That way we communicate right off the bat about what something might look like."

At any given time, the director notes, episodes are in various stages of completion, "from designing to working on a final cut, or adding sound and color-correction. I have four episodic directors to help me, who each have an episode they're managing."

Rather than use computer animation to duplicate the live-action films' characters or continue in the very stylized vein of the 2004-2005 "Clone Wars" micro-series, "We kind of shot for the middle," says Filoni, who endeavored to blend a 2-D esthetic with 3-D technology.

"The 3-D model makers and riggers who worked on the prequels dealt with the height of realism to create convincing digital characters. I knew that we weren't going to be able to do that for the series. And we wanted it to be different than a live-action feature, to get away from photo-realism. It was a choice to simplify something in the character models, the same way we would do things in a 2-D show."

So how did Filoni stay true to the "Star Wars" legacy in this newest installment? Read on to find out.

Clone Style

Taking some inspiration from the earlier cartoon series, Filoni

approached the characters as a 2-D animator would, "but stylized the face a little more. If you look at Anakin, he has certain edges and lines in his face. I would draw an edge or a line that might be unnaturally straight or curved, and that would play into the lighting of it. I tried to sculpt in 3-D the way I would draw or sculpt an image in 2-D, with shadow and light. I wanted it to look like a painting -- you see a textured, hand-painted style on every character. I have texture artists who literally paint every single character right down to their eyeball, because I wanted that human touch on everything."

Advances in computer animation have allowed Filoni to accomplish much more than he would have been able to in traditional 2-D. "For eight years I worked just with a pencil. I never touched a computer. But working with George, we try to look at computers as an incredibly advanced pencil. The technical side helps the creative, artistic side," he says.

Battles filled with huge numbers of soldiers can be rendered faster than ever before, but they still have to be created, along with every other prop and character in an enormous universe. "'Star Wars' is so complex in that you're building a whole galaxy. We go to many different planets," Filoni reminds. "So every rock, tree, blade of grass, native vehicle -- every asset -- needs design. We had to create a whole bunch of assets for each episode, and the budget goes up for each element you have. Once you build it, you have it, but we can't go to a different planet and have the same chair there," he laughs. "On a schedule where we need those things right away, it's difficult to get it all built."

Since "The Clone Wars" is chronologically sandwiched between "Clone Wars" and "Revenge of the Sith," it has been a mandate for the creators to stay consistent with the mythology. "That's probably one of the trickiest things," admits Filoni. "We always have to keep in mind what the characters are thinking and feeling at the beginning of this and at the end. You have a lot of room to play with when you're in the middle, but you have to remember what people say in the third movie. With characters like Obi-Wan or Anakin or Padme, I have to pay very careful attention that it will hook up. And then there's the expanded universe of "Star Wars" novels and video games. I try to be aware of it all and work it in, because fans really appreciate it."

Filoni hopes to attract existing fans and create new ones, especially among the younger generation, but admits doing the latter may be easier. "One thing we have that's different from any movie that came before is we're an animated series. But there's an instant reaction to the word animation that it's for kids. How you get around that is with the stories you tell. We'll have our snow battles and we'll also have our lighter 'Return of the Jedi' moments. Some episodes lean older, some younger. But in the end it has a broad appeal," he believes.

The recent "Clone Wars" movie (out on DVD Nov. 11 ) served as a stand-alone prequel to introduce the characters at this point in time. In contrast, "The series has its small arcs and shows you the war from across a broad spectrum of episodes. It's not just Anakin Skywalker's story," Filoni underlines. "We can go left or right of that plot and deal with characters we have never seen. There's a lot of material. It's a three-year period in the history of the 'Star Wars' Universe, and there are so many stories to tell. The longer it goes, the more chance we get to tell fascinating stories in that galaxy."

Character Study

"The Clone Wars" shows a different side of some of the film franchise's most iconic characters. "In a series, you can do a whole episode about a character and learn more about what they were like, which makes what happens to them a lot more poignant," explains Filoni. "We know Yoda is powerful, but how does that power develop? How does he use it? We get to go into more detail that you just couldn't do in the live action films, because they're mainly focused on Anakin."

While few of the actors from the live action movies agreed to reprise their roles in voice over for "The Clone Wars," Anthony Daniels, the original C-3PO, is the exception. "One of the special moments for me was hearing Anthony on the telephone, discussing C-3PO with me and his experiences. That really helps us round out the characters," says the director, who enjoyed similar input from Rob Coleman, the animation supervisor who worked on Yoda on the prequels.

Of the new characters not seen in the live action series, there's the alluring but venomous Asajj Ventress, a disciple of Count Dooku. "She is, of course, a villain, and fits into the structure of the Sith," Filoni elaborates. "Darth Sidious -- Senator Palpatine -- is the main bad guy, and his apprentice is Count Dooku. Dooku is training Ventress in the Dark Side. She's getting more powerful. I wanted to make her intelligent, deceptive and also kind of sexual. She's kind of a forbidden fruit -- Jedi are not supposed to get involved with the more lustful aspects of life. She adds another dynamic to the series."

On the other side of the good/evil coin is newcomer Ahsoka Tano, Anakin's teenage pad­awan, or apprentice. "She's Anakin's student and helps us see him as more of a hero," says Filoni. "Once he gets over his initial reaction, he takes pride in her. He's unpredictable and the Jedi know that, but he has compassion and that is used against him and it later brings him to the Dark Side."

Ahsoka was created, says Lucas, "Because I needed to mature Anakin. The best way to get somebody to become responsible and mature is to have them become a parent or a teacher. You have to think about what you're doing and set an example. You look at your behavior and the way you do things much differently. The idea was to use her to make Anakin become more mature. We've made her a more extreme version of what Anakin was- - a little out there, independent, vital and full of life, but even more so. He gets a little dose of his own medicine."

"She's been a really fun character to develop," adds Filoni, who likes Ahsoka but admits that his character tastes tend to run a bit more obscure -- his favorite is Plo Koon, "a bizarre Jedi Master. It's been fun to develop him and show his personality beyond the fact that he's bizarre looking and carries a lightsaber."

Fan Fare

Just three years ago, Filoni dressed up as Plo Koon to see an opening night showing of "Revenge of the Sith," so it's not surprising that the 34-year-old fan is still pinching himself that he has this job. "It's a very creative atmosphere," he says of Big Rock Ranch, where the lakeside setting is "meant to inspire us artistically and definitely does. A lot of the people I work with grew up with 'Star Wars,' so we have a great time. It's hard, intense work, but George is very engaged in what we're doing. What more could you ask for? I have the guy who created the 'Star Wars' universe excited and interested in what we're doing. We couldn't be happier about that."

Asked why he thinks "Star Wars" remains a fan favorite today, three decades later, Lucas says diversification is the key. "We were always able to deal with different aspects of the story in various forms and I think that keeps it alive. It is a lot of fun and it's a universe that has been created to inspire young people to exercise their imagination and inspire them to be creative, and I think that always works."

"The original 'Star Wars' had broad appeal to everybody, and it holds up so well," adds Filoni. "I think there's a timelessness to it, even though Luke looks like a kid from the '70s with that haircut. Luke is a farmer boy and Han is a cowboy. Jedi Knights are like the samurai of Japan or the knights of Europe. Those archetypes work the globe over. It's a world phenomenon that speaks to everyone. There will always be a character you can relate to."

[notyourdayrdream]

Summer’s Almost Over (So Come Spend it with Me)

Day Five, Side A: Austere

read it here on AO3

A/N: brief mention of Kurt being kissed without consent in season two of Glee

(also! for this two shot: Kurt and Blaine met at Dalton, but never dated.)

“What if we went to Coney Island Saturday?” Brittany exclaimed at their weekly potluck, completely out of the blue. Nobody had even mentioned the theme park. Though, to be fair, nobody begins half of the conversations Brittany throws them in.

For some reason, everyone agreed, even Rachel. She said taking a break from the hustle of Broadway was exactly what she needed to be ready to continue her role as Fanny on Monday.

Outvoted, Kurt reluctantly sat between Blaine and Sam on the subway ride to Coney Island, legs shaking the entire time. It wasn’t that he hated carnivals. It was the opposite, actually. When he was younger, his mom and dad took him to the Ohio state carnival. It’s one of the last memories he can fully remember of her, her long blonde hair braided back as she threw a plastic ball at a stack of milk cans. Anything for her kid, especially one who desperately wanted an oversized dragon plushie.

No, he’s nervous because he has a date at eight.

Kurt met Oliver at a coffeehouse near the Vogue office, he was the barista who served him his drink. Oliver’s number was scribbled on the receipt. It was all very cute, and his friends agreed when he told them the story.

They texted back and forth a week before Oliver asked him out. Kurt happily agreed, hoping for a calm day before getting dressed and heading out to a fancy dinner. Now though, he won’t even have enough time to shower the smell of hotdogs off his body and be on time.

So Kurt’s scrolling through Oliver’s Instagram (not at all like a creep,) when Artie pats his shoulder. “There they are,” he points ahead as the rest of his friends stumble to them, chatting animatedly about the rollercoaster they just went on.

“You know, when you said ‘let’s go on a ride,’ I didn’t think you meant the one with a huge drop,” Rachel says, gripping Santana’s arm so hard it might fall off. Her hair is wind whipped and messy.

“C’mon Rach, you could’ve sat with Kurt and Artie if you wanted,” Mercedes says from behind her, arms wrapped around Sam’s waist.

“Did you guys have fun?” Kurt asks from the bench, carefully closing the app so he doesn’t accidentally like an old photo. “Rachel looks like she just died.” This is why he didn’t go on the ride.

Blaine sits beside him on the bench, his eyes gleaming with a sort of childlike wonder. He’s a total adrenaline junkie. “It was amazing, she’s overreacting,” he whispers not-too-discreetly. Kurt giggles.

“Let’s split up,” Santana suggests. “I wanna go on another coaster, and the park closes at six. We can grab dinner after?”

“Unless you’re Sam and Brittany, who already ate,” Artie chides. His camera rests on his lap, storage filled with videos and photos of their trip.

“Hey! Cotton candy is not one of the five food groups!” Brittany sticks out a blue tongue at him, Sam does the same. Their respective partners laugh.

“I have to leave soon,” Kurt reminds the group, checking his phone another time. Five thirty-two.

“Wait, never mind guys,” Santana alerts, appearing to be suddenly anxious. “Kurt has to get his brains fucked out at eight, so we can’t have dinner.” Both Blaine and Kurt wince.

“Too far, San.” Mercedes cringes as her and Sam make their way down the boardwalk steps and to the beach. The others shake their heads in similar disgust before going their separate ways. Rachel pushes Artie to the outdoor arcade with plans to win a bagged goldfish. Brittany pulls her girlfriend by a sticky hand to the older wooden coaster.

“So…” Blaine knocks his shoulder as they walk down the boardwalk. The gel has completely left his hair throughout the course of the day, curls hanging just above his eyebrows. “Whatcha wanna do?” Kurt spies him eyeing the Wonder Wheel beside him.

He shakes his head, not waiting for the question. “No.”

“Please?” Blaine pleaded. “You haven’t been on anything this whole time.” He sidesteps a tiny toddler crying over a fallen ice cream cone.

“I didn’t want Artie to feel alone!” Kurt defends himself. Which was true, most of the coasters weren’t accessible for him, so they spent the time bonding over the grossness of carnival food and looking at footage from the day.

“We’ll Artie isn’t here now,” Blaine replies, voice dropping an octave. “So come on the ferris wheel with me.” He bats his eyelashes for extra effect. Kurt’s stomach swoops.

Blaine has a way of doing that to him. In their near five year friendship, he’s made Kurt’s stomach tie up in knots more times than he can count. He won’t deny he used to have a crush on him in high school; he was preppy and chivalrous and oh so cute in his bow ties and blazers.

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he sighs. Blaine cheers next to him, mumbling ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’ in the same deep voice that makes the blood rush to Kurt’s face.

Okay, maybe the crush wasn’t entirely dead. But it’s completely normal to have crushes on your friends. Friendly crushes.

Since the park is soon to close, the lines weren’t too long anymore. Kurt and Blaine move up first in line after only five minutes.

The ride operator turns to them. Her hair is bordering on orange. “You guys want an outside or inside car?” Her voice has no expression, and she looks two more button presses from quitting her job.

“Outside.” Kurt and Blaine say at the same time, followed by a quiet laugh.

She eyes them. “Alright.” She presses another button, and the outer ring of ferris wheel carts rotate downwards until an empty one comes to the bottom. “Enjoy the ride.”

Blaine and Kurt slide into the seat, sitting on opposite sides of the enclosure. The ride jerks forward and up, until they’re halfway around the ride. “Are you okay? Your face is really pale.” Blaine asks, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

“Mm-hmm,” Kurt squeaks, closing his eyes to avoid looking down. Even though the car is supposed to be stationary, it rocks just a little as it moves up and down to complete its first circle.

Blaine thinks for a moment before saying quietly, “You’re afraid of heights?” He jumps a little in his seat, and the car rocks with it. Kurt’s stomach drops.

“I am!” he snaps, opening his eyes. “Stop moving so much.” The city is lit up around them, the sound of cheers from the rollercoaster whizzing by below him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Blaine stills himself. “I wouldn’t have made you go on if you had told me, Kurt!” He looks so worried that Kurt feels bad for even mentioning his fear. It’s completely irrational anyway, he doesn't even have a reason to be so scared. It’s just the fact he believes no human needs to be up one hundred fifty feet high.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” he tries to console Blaine (and himself). “It’ll be over in what, three more minutes?” He can last three more minutes. Hell, he’s lasted an hour listening to Rachel and Santana argue.

And then the ride stops. At the very top.

It takes a minute for the two of them to realize this isn’t supposed to happen. “Why’d it stop.” Kurt says. His body feels like it might melt onto the floor. “Oh my god, no.”

“We’re stuck.” Blaine groans, which, thanks Captain Obvious! Those two words are confirmation that this is actually the absolute worst day ever. “I’ll call someone.”

Rachel’s ringtone beats him to it.

Kurt can’t hear much of the conversation, but from the looks Blaine throws his way, he knows it isn’t good. He cracks his knuckles as a way to distract himself from the slight sway of the cart. Passerbys the size of ants point and look up at the malfunctioned ride.

Blaine clicks the end call button. “Okay, good news first, ” he begins, pocketing his phone. “Rachel and Artie talked to the operators, and they’re working on fixing the ride.”

“Bad news?” Kurt presses. Blaine likes to do that thing where he gives good news then bad news, but the latter is always so bad the good news pales in comparison. He’s done that ever since they met. It’s silly, but it’s Blaine, so Kurt loves it.

“Bad news is that it might take thirty minutes, maybe forty-five.” Blaine cringes from the other side of the cart, waiting for Kurt’s outburst.

“No.” Kurt snatches his phone out of his pocket. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening!” He feels tears prick at the back of his eyes. He’s gonna be late. “I’m gonna miss my date!” He groans, and yeah it may be a little over dramatic, but he hasn’t been on a date with someone in months. He was really excited.

Expecting sympathy from Blaine, he glanced over at him. He’s glaring right back at him. “What?”

“Is that really what you’re worried about right now?” Blaine says abruptly. “God forbid you miss your date.” He rolls his eyes with more venom Kurt’s seen in him ever. It freaks him out and angers him at the same time.

“Okay, what’s your problem?” He retorts, eyes narrowing. Blaine shrinks back a little at the stare, but doesn’t stop glowering.

“You’ve been going on about this stupid guy the whole day, complaining about how you have to go home, I’m so sick of it!” Blaine continues. His voice grows louder by the end.

“He’s not stupid, okay?” Kurt doesn’t know why he feels like he has to defend Oliver, but he does anyway. “And you’re the main one who wanted me to go out with him!” This whole situation is confusing him.

Blaine huffs indignantly and crosses his arms. “Maybe I don’t want you to anymore!”

“Why not?” Kurt presses. He’s never seen his best friend act like this. He almost seems jealous.

“Because I like you!” Blaine cries, eyes wet. “Jesus, couldn’t you tell?” His face is red now, flushed up to his neck.

Kurt flinches. “Please stop yelling.”

“I’m sorry.” Blaine immediately backs down, curling into himself. “I like you, Kurt. I’m sorry if that freaks you out, but I do.”

The sun is starting to set now, casting what feels like the entire world in an orange haze. The ocean to the right of them glimmers, couples walked in tandem along the shore. To the left, the skyline of Brooklyn appears austere and somber from so high up.

“How long?” Kurt says finally, eyes settling on the horizon and the rolling waves.

“How long what?”

“How long have you liked me?” He doesn’t know if he wants the answer.

There’s a pause until Blaine eventually murmurs, “Five years.”

Kurt’s heart drops. “Blaine.” Why didn’t he say anything? Oh god, this is horrible.

“I just, I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship by admitting anything,” Blaine explains, rubbing the nape of his neck. “It’s a lame excuse. But—yeah.” And he resides back into silence.

It is a lame excuse, Kurt thinks. Of course it wouldn’t have ruined anything. He had a crush on his stepbrother, for Christ’s sake. “So why did you want me to go out with Oliver so bad?”

“I thought, maybe, if you started dating someone I could get over you,” he laughs to himself. “That obviously didn’t work.”

Kurt just stares at him for a moment until he makes up his mind. “I’m coming over there.”

Blaine jerks out of his thoughts. “N-no, don’t come any closer,” he stammers. “You’ll mess up the balance of the car.” He looks terrified. Kurt can’t decide if it’s sad or adorable.

He rolls his eyes. “I won’t mess up the balance of anything.” Kurt stands slowly, holding his arms out to his sides. He takes the three steps to Blaine’s side of the car quickly to get it over with, shaking the seats. When he falls into the seat, Blaine steadies him by the waist. The touch shocks both of them, and he snatches his arm back.

They sit shoulder to shoulder, neither of them daring to move. It’s what feels like hours before Kurt takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts. “Do you remember when we first met? And I was having trouble with Karofsky? You texted me a single word. Courage.” He turns to the side. Blaine looks absolutely disheveled, sweating and curls getting frizzier by the minute. Weirdly, he looks gorgeous.

Blaine snorts. “Yeah, that word got you sexually assaulted.”

“No,” Kurt shakes his head, choosing to ignore the way his heart stops from the words. “That word saved me. You saved me, Blaine.” He would’ve never stood up for himself without that text. It got him through McKinley and Dalton and NYADA to this day.

“I’m always going to care about you. And I’m sorry I don’t… like you the way you like me. But I used to,” Kurt admits, now nervous like must’ve been. That secret was supposed to go to the grave. “And maybe I can again.”

Blaine meets his gaze, an emotion Kurt can’t quite place swirling around his eyes. “Okay.” He smiles, and though it is wavering, it’s also hopeful.

There’s a jolt, and the wheel starts turning again. It’s dark now, the sun fully disappeared below the horizon. The sky is a mix of purple and black and blue, a bruise painted among the stars. Kurt hears cheers from the other cars as they reach the ground below. “Okay.”

[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

mystic meadow and the sweet spot

pairing: harry styles x reader (farmers market au)

warnings: anxiety, awkwardness, shy!baker!harry, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, cockwarming

word count: 6.8k

synopsis: harry hates working the farmers markets, but the girl in the kombucha booth is cute

author’s note: hope you enjoy! xx all the love

masterlist

—

Harry used to hate working the farmer’s markets; there was so many people, so many awkward encounters, and so many stupid questions. The heat of the midsummer didn’t help either. He hated having to set the booth up and take it down, with the help of nothing more than an inadequate coworker, who spends most of his time on his phone or flirting with the other vendors. He hated working the markets, which is why he honestly contemplated quitting when his boss told him that he was scheduled to work the new rounds of the summer circuit, but the pay was double what he was normally making, in addition to mileage compensation.

It’s been a couple weeks since the market season began; every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, he has to set up his booth, put on a fake smile, try to sell as much as he can, and take the booth down, only to start it all again the next day in a different location. It’s exhausting, draining.

Today isn’t as bad as others. Cas, his poor excuse of a coworker, hadn’t even bothered showing up, but other than that, Harry hasn’t had any rude customers, and Andy, the guy who owns the spirits booth, gave him a couple bottles for cheap. By the end of the day, he sold most of the product, with only a few pastries and macarons to save for tomorrow, which will be handed out as samples.

He’s nearly all packed up when a girl meanders over near his booth. A loose yellow tee hangs off her shoulder with pale pink lace peeking out from the top of her chest, and she offers Artemis, the elderly woman who works the soap booth next to him, a soft grin. They make eye contact, and she gives him a warm smile. Thinking she’s a straggler who doesn’t know the market is closed, he offers her a tight smile while not-so-subtly boxing up the remainder of baked goods.

“Hmm, macarons,” the girl mumbles, fingering at the blue and white plaid tablecloth. “Any good?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says softly. He has never been really good when it comes to small talk, which is one reason why he probably isn’t able to have any lasting relationships; he barely had any acquaintances, let alone meaningful friendships. He scratches the back of his head, beneath a wool beanie he apparently had to wear, even though it’s been burning hot all day. Sweat seeps into his hair, threatening to drip down his neck. She nibbles on the inside of her cheek. He slides the tray of eclairs onto the side table, wrapping it with a healthy amount of plastic wrap before placing it in the insulated tote.

“And you’re not just obligated to say that since I’m a potential customer,” she smirks.

“Would never lie to such a pretty girl,” he says, smiling. He honestly can’t believe that those words actually came out of his mouth. A blush makes its way from his neck, to his cheeks, to the tips of his ears, and he prays that she can’t see it. The sun is setting; dull oranges and pinks peek over the tops of trees and wrap around her like wings, bright and comforting. He wipes his forehead, trying to conceal his blush from her. Just by looking at her, he’s sure that she wouldn’t even bat an eye at the rosy flush to his skin, but his stomach still balls up.

“Smooth,” she says. “You come here often?” Regret passes over her features as soon as she asks that, brows furrowing and head shaking. “Sorry, that sounded stupid. I just haven’t seen you. It’s normally Ryan or Cas,” she explains. She starts folding the tablecloth when Harry packs the final trays of pastries away.

“Well, Cas didn’t even show up today.” Harry can’t help the bitterness that seeps into his voice. He doesn’t mean to dump all of his anger on this poor girl, but she’s looking at him with such understanding eyes, it’s hard not to completely break and rant about everything that’s been building up. She hands the cloth to him, which he takes with an appreciative nod. “But, yeah, ‘ve been workin’ this fo’ a couple of weeks,” he says. Feeling like he’s being a little too standoffish, he offers her a smile, nudging the tray that caught her eye toward her. “You like macarons?”

It takes a bit for her to answer, and she bites at her lip, fingers wringing together. The skin of her palms are stained a pinkish-purple.

“Yeah,” she says. “They’re my favorite.”

“Here,” he says, scrambling to get a box. He digs into the tote, easily ripping into the plastic wrap. “Take some. Better you than me. ’Ve had enough sweets to last me the rest of my life.”

“Thanks.” She takes the box of pistachio-honey, raspberry-basil, and orange cream. “Pretty,” she says, fiddling with the gold ribbon he tied around it and already picking at the label. She lingers for a little bit, like she’s waiting to find something else to talk about, fingers tapping nervously on the table top. “I, uh,” she stutters, gesturing toward the booth across the way from his and a little to the right, “work the kombucha stand over there.”

It’s a large booth with large, draping black curtains shifting. If the wind catches it just right, he can see streams of warm colors painted on them, layered and bold. Two men are taking down a large banner that says ‘Mystic Meadow Kombucha’ with the outline of a bull’s skull beneath it, wildflowers winding around it. It seems to be more extravagant than Harry’s setup, with 3 large kegs in the front, decorated with fake vines and flowers.

“D’ya paint?” He asks suddenly, gesturing toward her hands.

“I do, but these are from some beets. We were testing new flavors, and I, well—” She bares her hands, laughing lighty, “I wasn’t careful enough.”

“I see.”

“So, I’ll see you around,” she says after a minute, offering him a shy smile. Before she walks away, she raises the box of sweets with gratitude. “Thanks, again.”

“See ya,” he says, eyes lingering on her, watching her skip back toward her booth. One of the men looks at Harry and smirks, nodding knowingly. The rest of the night, he finds his gaze wandering back over to her booth. A couple of times, she catches his eye, and when they leave, in an old van with a flaking paint job that wobbles over every bump in the road, she waves at him.

It’s ten at night before he gets back to the bakery, the sun long gone, but the dry heat still hangs heavy in the air. Marty, the owner, is still in the office counting the money for the night that she probably wasn't able to get to earlier. It’s a fairly small operation, with only two baristas, two managers, Marty and Ryan, and two bakers, himself and Cas, who probably won’t have a job after today’s no-call-no-show. Harry leans against the doorframe, handing her the bank pouch.

“‘M headed out,” he says. “See ya tomorrow.”

“How was it?” She asks before he can leave. He turns around.

“Wha’?”

“The market,” Marty supplies. “Is it still as bad as you thought?”

“Today was better than others,” he says vaguely, his mind wandering to the girl at the kombucha stand. A smile plays on his lips. Marty cocks a brow, leaning back in her chair.

“So you wouldn’t mind working next week?”

“Nah,” he says, “Tha’s fine.”

That night, he dreams of a girl, with pretty eyes, a yellow t-shirt, and stained hands.

In the weeks following their first encounter, Harry takes the time to visit the kombucha girl before the market opens, and at the end of the night, she stops by to get a box of leftover baked goods. He’s learned a lot of things over the past few weeks: her name is Y/N, she’s the daughter of the owners of Mystic Meadow, her main jobs being selling at local markets and businesses and coming up with the different flavors, she’s working on her bachelor’s degree, she’s single (Harry found it difficult to contain his joy when she told him that), and she’s an all-around sweet girl, who’s wonderful with people.

Harry also found out that he hates kombucha.

But that doesn’t stop him from getting one every time he stops by. It’s normally before the market is actually open to the public. She just gets so excited whenever he tries a cup of the newest flavor, normally an odd mixture of spices or herbs with vinegar and a fermented fruit flavor—it’s not even good fermentation, like with alcohol— it tastes absolutely horrid, but Y/N looks at him with such hopeful eyes the first time he has a sip; he couldn’t bear seeing the disappointed look in her eyes, so he accepts the little plastic cup from her, nodding thankfully, and takes it back to his booth, where it will sit for the remainder of the night, untouched and dripping with sweat, leaving faint rings on the tablecloth.

“I brought you something,” she says to him one afternoon.

It’s early August, the sun at its peak, beating down on his black tee; he really needs to learn how to dress for such heat.

“Yeah?”

She lugs a black glass bottle from the cooler in the far corner of the booth, hidden behind the wooden chair for her. Her smile stretches from ear to ear; it’s hard to contain his own, but why would he want to? When you’re in the presence of beaming sunlight, you shouldn’t shy away, rather, embracing it because you never know how long it’s going to last. Her finger is hooked in the small hole near the top, and she slams it down on the table, the decorated glass jar filled with inspirational quotes and stickers with the Mystic Meadow logo on them nearly toppling over. He clumsily grapples for it before everything falls.

“Sorry,” she laughs, rubbing the sweat that has already formed on the bottle. She holds it out for him to take. “It’s a growler of the pear and pink peppercorn,” she says, smiling. He takes it gingerly from her hands, turning it over and feeling the weight.

“Wha’?”

“You said it was your favorite,” she says, her grin falling slightly. His heart stops for a second. Guilt floods him as he smiles widely, dimples settling deep in his cheeks.

“Ah, yes,” he says. “Thank you.”

It’s quiet after that. Neither of them, he’s noticed, are very good at making conversation. Y/N is normally the one to initiate the pleasantries, but it still takes a little bit before they can actually get into a deep conversation. Sure, when they finally find a subject that the both of them are passionate about, they can talk for hours, like her paintings or his music, but the starting off is always difficult. Granted, that’s not abnormal for Harry; he’s never been much of a talker. He can fake it if he has to, but he’s a bit of a blundering idiot sometimes, and he’s learned that the less he speaks, the less likely he is to embarrass himself—especially when he’s around Y/N.

He’s been trying to find the courage to ask her out on a date for the past few weeks, hell, ever since the day they met, but of course: he hasn’t. Granted, he’s never had much luck in the dating scene, probably because he can’t flirt for the life of him. There are some times where something charming comes out randomly, but it’s soon followed by an uncomfortable silence, and he gets embarrassed.

He just needs to go for it. He knows that. He tells himself that every time he misses his chance, when he waits too long, and the window of opportunity is slammed in his face. Y/N is a wonderful match for him, and she’s too sweet to completely laugh in his face or flat out reject him.

But it’s still scary. His heart is in his throat, and his palms are sweaty. He wipes them on his jeans, noticing the slight tremor. He tucks them in the pockets of his jeans (yet another terrible clothing choice for such a hot day).

He just needs to do it, rip it off like a band-aid.

“Was wondering,” he blurts out, shifting nervously on his feet. “Do you have plans on Saturday?”

“No, do you have something in mind?” She looks at him with hopeful eyes, and he melts. He wishes he could be as comfortable as Y/N, to not be constantly worried about the approval and validation of the people around him. He wonders what it’s like to wear his heart out on his sleeve.

He wishes he could live like that.

“Uh, I have work,” he says, “but after, maybe, we could get dinner?”

“Sounds like a date.”

—

The Sweet Spot Bakery and Cafe is a cute little shop on a corner in downtown, ironically next to a nutrition store. A blue neon sign shaped like a mug flashes in the corner of Y/N’s eye. Rain pounds onto the red and gold striped awning, dripping onto the flooded concrete. There’s cute flower boxes beneath the windows, but the flowers look sad and droopy, the dirt splattering out with every powerful raindrop. Antique metal tables are stacked in the far corner, out of the rain. Y/N shakes off her umbrella.

A sweet chime sounds when she pulls open the door. Inside, the scent of coffee and sugar fill her senses. There is just something so comfortable about being in a bakery or even a cafe that always reminds her of warmth, of intimacy, of home. The shop is fairly empty, with an older man reading in one of the corners, snug in a velvet chair, and a couple quietly chatting on the other side, hidden behind a hanging plant, their legs crossed over each others’ on a leather stool.

An older woman greets her from behind the counter, obscured by a gold espresso machine. She’s short with graying black hair, brown eyes peeking behind horned glasses. Her red painted lips stretch into a smile.

“How can I help you, sweetheart?”

“Hi, is Harry here?”

As if he could hear her, Harry stumbles out from the back, the door swinging idly behind him. Flour coats his arms to his elbows, with a few stripes on his nose and forehead. The green bandana struggles to hold back his hair, curls slipping onto his forehead.

“Y/N,” he breathes out. He wipes his hands on the apron, a cloud of white billowing out. He coughs. He shoos the woman away and leans against the counter, his features impassive. To the untrained eye, he looks normal, fine, calm, even, but Y/N has learned how to read him; from the faint blush on his cheeks to the look in his eyes, which are unable to meet hers. He looks anxious, more so than usual, and there’s a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Sorry, I forgo’ to tell ya, but I’m scheduled to close tonight.”

“That’s fine.” She tries to hide the disappointment in her voice. “We can do this some other time, then.”

“I can take my break in a bit. Marty doesn’ really mind how long it takes. D'ya wanna sit? Be out in a minute,” he says quickly.

“Sure,” she says, nodding. She opts for the corner booth, away from the other customers. Harry comes out from behind the counter only a moment later, like he promised, clean with a large white mug clutched in one shaky hand and a white box, wrapped in a pretty gold bow, in the other.

“Here ya go,” he says, sliding a large mug toward her. Foam sloshes over the edges and onto the table, wetting the napkin under the cup as well as her hand. He curses under his breath, grappling for the napkin dispenser. A poorly shaped face made with cinnamon smiles up at her, and she wants to aw at the sight, her lips pouting.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, wiping her hand with a stale paper napkin.

“It’s fine, H,” she whispers, placing her hand on his.

He doesn’t really know why he’s so nervous (more nervous than usual). It’s not like this is his first time meeting her; they’re comfortable with each other, and they joke around, and he also knows that she’s interested because of how understanding she was when he told her that his shift changed, or maybe that is a sign that she’s not interested.

He really needs to stop overthinking these things.

He’s a grown man. He should be able to talk with her without his hands clamming up or his heart beating out of his chest. Maybe it’s the pressure of it being defined as a “date” that makes it even worse. He just hopes that he doesn’t psych himself out.

“Thank you.” She grins.

“No problem. Remembered that ya told me once that you liked honey and cinnamon.”

Her heart swells at his words. Even though Harry puts on an uneasy exterior, he’s very attentive and loving. None of her exes would have remembered how she took her coffee after she mentioned it once.

“Sorry,” he says again suddenly, looking at the sad excuse of a smiley face on her drink. “Don’ normally work the front unless it’s too busy.”

“You should. Such a pretty face, I can’t keep it all to myself.” She pinches his cheek, and he shys away, swatting at her hand playfully. He nudges the box toward her.

“Macarons. Your favorite,” he says, and she nudges it to the side, taking a large gulp of the coffee.

“How’s it been today?” She asks, rubbing some of the foam off with her thumb.

“Slow,” he admits, breathing out shakily. His feet tap nervously on the floor, tapping back and forth, from heel to toe.

“Hey, it’s just me,” she says, placing a gentle hand on his. “No need to be nervous.”

“Right,” he says, nodding. “I jus’ feel like I should apologize again. I should’ve said something to you about my shift change.”

“It’s no problem, Harry,” she reassures him.

“I just got promoted. Marty needs help with orders and stuff, so I’ll be the bakery manager, now. She wanted me to close as a part of my training.”

“That’s great,” she smiles, lacing their fingers. He stares at them, his thumb tracing over her knuckles gently. Her skin is calloused and warm. He tugs her hand up to his lips, and she gives him a shy smile.

“You’ll still be working the markets, right?”

“Ya can’t get rid o’ me tha’ easily, lovie,” he smirks.

“Good.”

They talk for a good ten minutes, but the conversation is no deeper than the short interactions they normally have at the markets.

Harry wishes that wasn’t the case.

“Harry,” Marty calls from behind the counter, interrupting them. “A timer’s going off. What’s it for?”

“Oh, um—” He stands up, looking at Y/N with apologetic eyes. “I promise I’ll make it up to ya. Tomorrow?”

“Sure,” she says, downing the last of her drink and gathering her things.

“Brunch? I’ll text ya?”

“Harry,” Y/N calls out after he slips behind the counter.

“Yeah?”

She presses a quick kiss to his cheek, not missing the red forming on his neck.

“See you tomorrow.”

She gives him a wink before leaving. Harry stands, stunned in silence, his fingers tracing the warmth lingering from her lips.

“Whipped,” Marty mutters, a soft smirk toying on her lips.

“Shut up,” he scoffs.

“I’m not judging. It’s cute, H.”

“I don’ need this, ‘kay?”

She throws a wet towel at him, catching his leg before the door to the back closes.

—

As promised, they had Sunday brunch, with bottomless mimosas and American biscuits, something he still isn’t used to, with jam and poached eggs. Y/N, who is a lot bolder when she has some alcohol in her, chattered on and on about her friends, her parents, and her classes. College never seemed like an option for him. He always held the belief that in his career choices, a baker or a musician, he doesn’t need a degree; you either have it or you don’t type situations.

But Y/N, the smart little cookie, loves school. She talked about how she may get an education degree, but one is plenty of work right now. She commended those brave enough to be in a double major. She asked him about his family and his job, mostly; he would rather listen to her than talk, so he kept his answers short and sweet.

Afterward, they went to the park, cliche as it seems, because even though he’s lived in the area for nearly five years, he never took the time to stop by any of the parks, and Y/N took full opportunity of this: she gawked at him, pulled him out of his chair at the bistro, and slammed some cash onto the table. He tried to argue with her, that he should at least leave the tip, since he was at fault for their date yesterday not going to plan, but she wasn’t listening.

“I can’t believe you haven’t been to any of the parks,” she said, tugging him along the sidewalk. “There’s a nice one around here, only a ten minute walk. It has a pond and that cute little playground equipment—you know, the tiny slides with tiny stairs for the little kids. Do you remember those?” She stops. “Should we get bread to feed the ducks?” She shakes her head, answering her own question. “No, we can do it some other time.”

They spend the rest of the day by the pond, people watching, another one of Y/N favorite past times. After dinner, Harry didn’t get home until after sunset and went to bed with a smile on his face.

The next day, Harry spends two hours contemplating whether or not it was too early to send a good morning text. He nervously rolled around in his bed before he accidentally sent the message. She responded quickly after, and they talked for the entire day (seriously, he didn’t get up unless he absolutely had to).

Tuesday, market day, comes around quickly, and Harry gets there earlier than usual, not so subtly waiting for the Mystic Meadow van to chug through the grass lot, and when it does, his heart speeds up, but he doesn’t recognize the girl that hops out of the passenger side.

His mind runs amuck, as usual. Even though they talked nonstop the day before, he thinks that maybe she’s not here because she doesn’t want to run into him, that she was annoyed by him already, his wariness and nerves. His heart skips a beat at the thought. He tries to reassure himself that there are so many other possible explanations, but his anxiety wasn’t having it.

It takes him a while to gather the courage to go over to the booth, and he tries to act as inconspicuous as possible, pacing slowly in front of the other booths, organic fruit, soap, paintings, and jewelry, until he’s at Mystic Meadow. The chalkboard sign that usually says Y/N’s name in fancy lettering says, ‘Florence will be helping you today’ instead. A girl with very long, very bright hair turns toward him. Thick blue eyeliner outlines her eyes, and smattering of freckles enlivens her pale skin.

“Can I help you?”

“Where’s Y/N?”

She looks taken aback by the question.

“Sick,” she answers slowly, brows furrowed.

“Oh,” he whispers. “‘M Harry,” he says. Her eyes widen suddenly, and she gives him a quick once over, leaning her hip against the table.

“You’re Harry?” She laughs. “We thought she was making you up.”

“Tha’s...” Harry doesn’t really know how to feel about that; it’s a cacophony of pride, excitement, and little anxiety. Pride for the fact that Y/N talked about him to her coworker (and potentially even more people, since Florence said “we”), excitement from the fact that Y/N seems very interested in him, and, of course, anxiety from this stranger's piercing gaze. He wonders what Y/N said about him; maybe she talked about how awkward he is or his gauky figure or his clumsiness—

“How sick is she?”

“Not too sick,” Florence says, winking.

“Oh, tha’s not—“

He hates the fact that he actually sounds disgusted, even though he honestly doesn’t mind the thought of it. Sure, Florence is right; he wouldn’t mind being with Y/N in that way, but that’s beside the point. They have only been out on two dates, and the first one was at his work, of all places, so he doesn’t really count that one. He wants to take their relationship slow.

“I’m messing with you,” Flo laughs, crossing her arms, “Although, it is nice to see a grown man blushing.”

“‘M not blushin’,” he says, wiping at his cheeks petulantly. “Uh, is Y/N alright? How sick—” He swallows thickly. His skin heats up even more, struggling to find his words. He’s trying to figure out how to ask where Y/N lives without sounding like a stalker. Maybe he should just ask Y/N himself.

“Where, um, does she—”

“Here,” she says, chuckling. She rips a piece of paper loose from under the register box and writes down an address with looping script.

“Thanks.” He leaves the booth with a quick nod, the paper clutched tightly in his sweating palm; hopefully, it doesn’t smudge the ink.

“Hey, Harry,” she calls out. He turns. “You’re a good guy. I’m glad she met you.”

If he wasn’t blushing before, he sure as hell is now.

—

Y/N looks worse for wear when she answers the door to her apartment, eyes tinted red with exhaustion, puffy and droopy, and she sniffles, a stuffy breath slipping through her lips. She’s wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. Her eyes widen, and she tries to hide slightly behind the door when she sees that it’s him.

“What are you doing here?” She squeaks.

His nerves spike again, worried he’s intruding or maybe it was too soon for him to start showing up at her house unannounced, when he’s never even been there before (he knew asking Florence for her address was a bad idea). They have only been on a couple of dates, and now, he probably ruined any chances he had with her by acting impulsively and like a total creep.

“I asked Florence,” he answers softly. “Said you were sick.” When tears fill her eyes, he’s sure she’s going to yell at him for disturbing her and tell him never to come again. He doesn’t think he’s ever regretted anything so much; his skin is hot, his racing heart sinking into his stomach. “‘M sorry. I jus’ thought, since you were sick, you may wan’ some company. I’ll leave, sorry, sorry—”

“No,” she says, grabbing onto his arm before he can leave. “I’m sorry for freaking you out, but…” Her throat closes, and she tries her hardest to not start ugly-crying, but with Harry standing on her front porch, visibly drained from work, arms full of grocery and pharmacy bags, makes it very hard not to break. It’s exhausting having to take care of yourself when you’re feeling ill, and with Harry simply there, and knowing that he was thinking about her, makes things so much easier.

“You’re so sweet, H,” she says, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“May I?”

“But—” She hesitates, nibbling at her lip. “I’m in my PJ's,” she says softly.

“And ‘m all sweaty from being in tha’ sun all day,” he smiles. He lets himself in, thick boots thundering on the hardwood. “I came straight from, but I did pick up some soup and Sprite and tea. Hope you have honey and lemon,” he rambles, tugging everything out from the bags.

“Wasn’t real sure what kind of sick ya were, so…” He scratches the back of his neck. “I got everythin’.” He gives her an awkward tight smile.

“Thank you,” she sighs, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. “Do you wanna shower? I’m sure I have some clothes that can fit you.” She guides him to the bathroom, laying some towels and clothes into his arms. “The shower head screams sometimes so don’t be worried. It normally stops if you wiggle it a bit.”

“Thanks,” he smiles. Her shower is filled with dozens of half-filled soap bottles decorated the shelves and the little basket hanging from the shower head. The hot water is nearly all gone by the time he decides to use the no-more-tears strawberry shampoo. Her towels are warm and soft, softer than he thinks he’s ever felt before, and they’re big enough to nearly swallow him whole.

He finds Y/N in the kitchen with a warped mug, seemingly handmade, filled with steaming tea. She stares at the cap of medicine on the counter, breathing heavily. He can see the confliction on her features, one moment she’s nearly convinced that she doesn’t need it, that her body can take care of it overnight, but she also knows that if she didn’t take it, she’ll be in for one hell of a terrible night; then she remembers how awful it tasted the last couple of times she’s had to take it.

Her nose scrunches when she finally decides to down it.

“Thanks for the tea,” she says, “I was just about to head to bed.”

“Oh, uh,” he says nervously. “I don’ want to impose. I’ll leave. I jus’ wanted to make sure ya had everything ya needed.”

A part of him wanted her to invite him to be with her; that part that is touch starved and eager to be near her again wants to toss any worries to the side.

“As long as you’re fine listening to my coughing all night, I’m fine with you staying the night.”

She listens to nature sounds to go to sleep.

How cute is that?

For the first couple minutes, they were ocean sounds, but she didn’t like the seagulls; she had him switch it to rain after a little bit. She looked a little embarrassed when she started playing them, but Harry listened to music in order to fall asleep, so it’s really no different. He never thought about listening to nature sounds, but it’s definitely something he could get used to.

It takes them a bit to finally get settled together. They start on their own sides of the bed. Not wanting to push his luck and make her feel uncomfortable, Harry stays on his side, trying not to hoard too much of the blankets, with a pillow hugged to his chest. She’s afraid that he won’t like her being so close to him, given her current state of health. They stare at the ceiling stubbornly, one occasionally glancing over to the other.

Soon, the night-time medicine kicks in, and Y/N throws caution to the wind.

“Fuck it,” she whispers, rolling onto her side, one arm nestling underneath him with the other prying between the pillow. “You okay with this?” She looks at him with pleading eyes, and he smiles.

How could he say no to her?

“Definitely.”

And so, she snuggles deeper into his chest, eyes growing heavy at the feeling of his fingers massaging her scalp, the scent of strawberry shampoo and Vix lulling the both of them to sleep.

—

Kissing her is something he doesn’t think he could ever get tired of. The feel of her soft lips over his, with tongue and teeth, aching and messy, is addicting. He never understood why people liked kissing so much; granted he’s only had five other ones to go off of, only two of them ever lead to a full-blown make out session on his bed, but still; how much fun could it be to practically suck another person’s face off?

But he severely underestimated the power of Y/N’s lips. The first time he felt them was a couple days after he spent the night with her when she was sick. It was a quick little peck he gave her when he dropped her off at her apartment, and ever since, he was hooked. It still completely baffles how much he aches for her lips when he can’t see her, and when he finally gets his fix, it feels perfect.

He finds himself craving the taste of her tongue.

How can someone’s mouth taste good?

It’s December, now, the market season long gone, and he and Y/N have been together for nearly five months. It’s more serious than any of his other relationships. Obviously, that’s not saying much since he hasn’t had many, but Harry slowly found himself opening up more toward her, which is more than any of his other ones.

He nips at the skin of her neck, tugging off her tee, and he finds the hickey he left a couple days ago, just below the collarbone, tongue pressing lightly on the tender skin. She whimpers.

“Fuck me, H,” she moans. She’s wearing a pink, lacy bra, the same one she was wearing the first day they met. He slips the straps over her shoulders, leaving a trail of kisses behind it. Her head lolls back against his, and his hand finds its way to her neck, caressing the warm skin. He can feel her heart rate pick up.

She slips her pajama pants and panties down, kicking them across the room. She slips further down the sheet, his hands firm on her hips. He tugs her frail bra up over her head. He fondles her breast for a bit before his lips trail down the valley, his warm mouth wrapping around her tender nipple, tongue soft against the pebbling skin. Y/N feels herself melt into him, skin sensitive to every teasing kiss he leaves down her body.

“Hey, babe?”

He rests his chin on her tummy, the thin hairs coating his jaw ticking her skin.

“Yeah?”

A sweet smile crosses her face at the chills that cover her skin when he speaks, lips so close to her skin, her pussy throbbing. Her thighs twitch. She runs her fingers through his hair, fingers smoothing the flyaways down. He kisses her bellybutton.

“I love you.”

He isn’t expecting that.

He chokes a little bit, his throat closing up on him.

“What?” He lifts himself up, crawling back up her body, and she cups his face. “Really?”

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek.

She’s not afraid that he won’t say it back. Hell, there's a part of her that doesn’t even expect him to say it back. (There’s an even smaller part that thinks that he’s just going to leave, but she doesn’t want to think of that). She’s not afraid because she knows that she needs to be the one to reassure him, to love him, to coax him out of his shell, and she’s completely willing to do that, to put forth the time and effort, because she is wholeheartedly enamored with him.

She waits for him to process everything; she can see the confliction in his eyes. Ever the worrier, Harry is thinking of the negative outcomes that can come if he goes about this the wrong way, but he doesn’t dwell on them for too long. He thinks of the mornings that he woke up in her arms, the afternoons they spent in tje park, a new tradition for them, the evenings they spent in contemplative silence, where she would paint his profile and he would serenade her with another love song, and the nights they spent making love.

Loving her is probably the easiest decision he’s ever made.

“Love you too, babylove.”

Y/N lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and she pulls his forehead onto hers.

He wants to thank her, for being patient, for being understanding, for loving him, for just being her, really. He doesn’t think she realizes how much of an impact she has on him.

She sits up and pushes him beneath her. He leans against the headboard. It’s cold against his hot skin, sweat slipping down the small of his back. They both struggle in pulling off his pants; he almost hits her in the head. She settles low on his thighs, straddling him, and her feet tuck beneath his calves. She spits on his cock, wetting the red tip, and strokes him slowly. He moans, pouting slightly.

“No teasin’.” He tugs her forward, until their chest to chest, his hands settling low on her hips, rocking her wet pussy back and forth over the length of his cock. Her clit rubs against the head, making her hips jolt within his grasp. He easily slips inside of her, his head knocking against the headboard. She teases him, still, just barely putting the head inside before pulling out slowly. It takes a couple more tries before she sinks fully onto him, a drawn out groan slipping past his lips. He pulls her back in for a kiss, fingers trailing along the curve of her spine.

“So deep,” she moans, her thighs twitching and quivering at his side. She caresses the skin of his belly, thumb teasing along the thin hairs.

“There ya go, baby,” he coos. “Takin’ me so well.” He sets his hand on her lower abdomen, feeling the little bump. “Can feel m’self,” he smiles. He waits for her to start moving. It takes a little longer than usual, probably from the lack of preparation, but she doesn’t let that stop her. She moves her hips back and forth, wiggling about to find that one special spot.

He thrusts himself into her, and she nearly collapses completely onto him, with a broken whine breaking from her chest. Hands gripping her fleshy ass, he moans against her neck. She tastes of sweat and cherries, addicting, and she grinds harder into him, hands gripping the headboard, which hits the wall with every move of her hips. The mattress creaks noisily beneath them, but they can barely hear it over the sound of each others’ moans of pleasure.

“Love you,” he says against her lips.

She breathes out her response, a pledge of her own love; it’s weak, but that’s no surprise, since she struggles for air when he bucks his hips, hitting the deepest part of her. The aching in her chest only adds to the pleasure, the burning fire in her stomach. Her arousal slips down to his thighs.

“‘M gonna come, babylove,” he whines, skimming his nose over hers. Her teeth nibbles his lips, riding him faster.

“Come in me, H, wanna feel you,” she says breathily. His arms quiver around her, squeezing her tight to him, his face digging into her neck. Her toes curl when he comes, his nails digging into her skin. She eases him through his high, cupping his cheeks and wiping the sweat from his forehead. She pulls his head to her chest, fingers carding through his curls; his heaving breaths leaves her skin wet. She moves up, whimpering softly, but he stops her, feeling some of his cum slip out onto his thighs.

“Hm, no, lovie,” he whines, wrapping an arm around her waist. He gently moves them onto their sides, while keeping his cock nestled deep inside her. “Wanna feel you.”

She loves being so close to him, warm and full. She’s never done this with anyone. It’s intimacy at its core, with Harry holding her so tightly against him. It nearly brings tears to her eyes. She’s so glad that she met Harry, so thankful that she took that leap of faith and talked to the cute guy at the baked goods booth, who had wise eyes and a nervous smile. She’s glad that she inched past that guarded exterior to find his soft, gooey middle. Harry kisses her forehead, shifting slightly, and her sensitive walls flutter around him.

“Feels good, baby,” she moans, rubbing along his waist.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah,” she says, still at a loss for breath, her fingers absently tracing over his inked skin. Goose pimples rise in their wake.

“I don’ like kombucha.”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t like macarons.”

—

[kitkatopinions]

I'm tired of fantasy world writers being like 'oh, this is my allegory for racism in my fantasy world where actual racism doesn't exist, also I'm going to not do any research on how to properly include said allegory, badly portray it, make my main characters affected by this white or white passing, and then use racist stereotypes later.' Long post full of RWBY criticism ahead.

RWBY is terrible with the Faunus racism they chose to make part of their story. They made the White Fang an evil terrorist group, they made Blake lecture fellow Faunus about how they're the ones actually hurting themselves by using violence against each other, they framed comfortable and peaceful protest as the only good way despite establishing that peaceful protest didn't work, and they made their child slave coded character who literally got branded turn into nothing more than an abusive stalker and then had him killed without ever addressing the aforementioned child slavery. Also, the only Faunus among our main cast now that Sun is gone is one of the most privileged of the Faunus. Blake can pass as a human if she wants to, she grew up fairly rich, she has two loving parents, and she comes from an inherently powerful position as the daughter of the Chief. Having Blake be privileged would be absolutely fine, if she acknowledged her privilege, wasn’t the mouthpiece on Faunus rights, if she wasn’t the only Faunus in our main cast, and if she didn’t repeatedly lecture other Faunus.

On top of that, two of our main cast have been racist (within the narrative of the show) towards our main Faunus character, one of them learns from it (even though that as well was badly handled) and became the only member of Team RWBY to ever call out human's being racist after season three. Oh wait, except the other member of our main cast that was racist that never had it addressed because it was treated like a joke now has yelled at a racist once, in an incredibly tense situation, so I guess her racism is gone. It’s good that it’s gone, since CRWBY is pushing her and Blake as a couple, but it’s frustrating that her racism never even got a ‘that wasn’t funny’ and we never see Yang learn any better, because it feels like CRWBY brushed it off and acted like it was fun and quirky instead of treating it like the casual racism it was. They do a similar thing with Robyn in season seven which came out in 2019, when she calls Marrow ‘Wags.’ Also none of our main cast are ever seen protesting for Faunus rights (sans a two second flashback of child Blake at a rally and a non canon RWBY chibi cartoon.) I don't think Ruby - our main protagonist - has ever even mentioned Faunus rights. In a world where Adam was branded with the SDC logo under fifteen years ago at the most, racism and fighting racism should be a big part of the story, and instead, it's brushed to the side and used for the occasional 'we don't like racism btw' moment now that Blake got rid of a Faunus run terrorist group. To me, this implies that the number one threat to the Faunus… Was the Faunus, and although some humans are still anti-Faunus, no one has to devote their time or energy into fighting for equality. In season 7, Blake doesn’t even attend the rally of the political figure running against Jacques Schnee - who as far as I’m aware, is the only business owner or person in power who has ever displayed anti-Faunus racism in the show. By the way, please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong. It’s been a hot minute since I watched through the show.

Instead of attending a rally that seems very important for the Faunus, Blake goes dancing with her crush. It’s like she stopped caring about politics and rights after the White Fang got removed. That feels so bad. Also, I'll note that most of the actual POC Faunus that can't pass as white in this show are on the bad side (Sienna, Fennec, Corsac, Lionheart, Ilia, Marrow.) And either they die, or they must learn to give up their destructive ways and become better people. I’m not saying this was intentional, I’m saying it’s a pattern, it’s alarming, and the writers should’ve known better.

I believe Miles Luna and Kerry Shawcross have admitted that they mishandled Faunus racism, but first off, it still doesn’t excuse them because they were grown people putting out a product that premiered in 2013 and they should’ve known to do research and do better. But second off, I still feel like they haven't done the research they need to and continue to mishandle the racism by ignoring it when they want to and bringing it up only to let us as an audience know Weiss and Yang aren't racist anymore. They can’t just cut the Faunus from their storyline now, but they can’t just ignore it, and need to actually make it a better allegory. Honestly though, one of the big reasons I'm convinced that they still haven't done any real research on how to properly portray POC or racism is because of how terribly they're handling the Ace Ops.

They're writing a fantasy show, they aren't tied to real world portrayals of law enforcement, but they went the route of commentating on real world police, corrupt police, and use of excessive force. That's fine. But things are already pretty dicey just starting off because of how they've mishandled and continue to mishandle Faunus racism. Outside of Jacques Schnee and his company and business partners, I don't remember seeing Faunus racism in Atlas (not Mantle, Atlas.) If I'm wrong about that, again, please correct me, I may have missed it. But without seeing actual discrimination against Faunus within the police force, right off the bat, that's a mishandling of commentating on police brutality. But also, other than Clover who is now dead, the Ace Ops are all people of color. CRWBY made their bad cops all not white. Even Ironwood - who is white passing - is voiced by a person of color who has said he believes that James is Chinese American. I'll point out that being a Hunter is pretty much just being a cop with more freedom and seemingly less rules. Qrow (a Beacon Huntsman) goes around destroying public property and comments on how some hunters work outside of the law, and yet it's only the Ace Ops who are held to real world ACAB rules and everyone else gets to be a good cop/law enforcement officer. Ruby gets to proudly proclaim herself a Huntress, Weiss gets to arrest people, Jaune gets told that he deserves his Huntsman license, we've been getting told for seven seasons that Hunters help people and do what's right, and we're given long time Hunters and mentor figures like Oobleck, Glynda, Qrow, and now Robyn is being framed that way, and they back that up. Even training Atlas soldiers like Neon and Flynt are fine and fun. But only the Ace Ops are bad, corrupt law enforcement officers. So that way, we can have the entirely white passing Team RWBY beat up the entirely POC, not white passing Ace Ops. Even though Team RWBY is a byproduct of the same kind of program and even though we’ve seen the police discriminate against Faunus in Vale. If CRWBY wants their allegories to be taken seriously, they need to recognize that RWBY and co are also certified police. Also, it’s really not funny to see people use ACAB as a reason why the Ace Ops are of course bad, but then turn around and simp for Winter, and be like ‘We want Winter to be redeemed, but Harriet? What a bitch!’ Like… I’m side-eyeing that pretty hard.

Speaking of Winter, now she’s in charge of the Ace Ops. But unlike Marrow, Winter doesn’t just look sad sometimes and blindly only follow direct orders without protest. She’s actually feeling all kinds of things, and she’s actually being framed as strong, intelligent, and reasonable. I’m sure no one forgot this, but I’ll note it anyway; Winter is white. Having Winter be the only Ace Op to actually listen to JRY and do things without James explicitly telling her to (although I don’t consider what she did a betrayal or going behind his back) is dicey. They could’ve given this moment to Harriet and nothing would change. ‘This lady typically follows orders, is short tempered, and pushes down her emotions, but she can still recognize a fairly good idea when she sees one and can actually think for herself, so although this isn’t a betrayal, she compromises and lets Team JRY go after their friend.’ Yeah, idk guys, I feel like there was literally no reason to slot Winter in with the Ace Ops to be the lone voice of reason when Harriet could’ve become the new leader and played the exact same role. Instead, Winter gets to have a power move where she puts Harriet in her place. Winter is given actual depth and gets to put down the black woman who the writers have made display nothing but anger for the whole season. The fans rally behind Winter because she was given depth and hate Harriet because she has none, but that’s the fault of the writers. Btw, ‘this black woman won’t show any emotion besides anger’ is a racist stereotype. It would probably have taken like five minutes on google for Luna and Shawcross to have realized that it was a bad idea to write a black woman in any sort of position of power to be constantly angry + hiding her emotions. Elm is in the same boat as Harriet, and I was going to say it’s less severe, but then I remembered that she literally attacked Ren for talking about their emotions.

Look, my point is that RWBY as a show has never handled allegories like racism and corrupt police well, and either they should stop trying and stick to ‘make believe land is just different than the real world’ or start putting in the work and fix this. By the way, I’m not trying to make anyone feel bad for watching or even enjoying RWBY, but I hope people can watch it while recognizing that some of the things CRWBY has chosen to put into their show are destructive and that the creators need to be called out. I’ll continue to hope that most RWBY fans do recognize that RWBY is deeply flawed, but I’ve just been stewing recently about someone who told me that I shouldn’t have expected the show to address Faunus racism in the Atlas arcs because that ended when Adam died.

I want to make it totally clear that I agree with and support ACAB in the real world and I'm not against it being used in fantasy works, I just think CRWBY is doing a poor job of portraying it and many fans are misusing it and it feels disrespectful. This is an actual real world movement with actual real world consequences. It feels very bad to see people use it to argue that the writers who have never handled allegories of racism well can make an all POC group be a destructive, violent, easily controlled, easily beat group of corrupt cops that need a white woman and fellow cop to be the voice of reason.

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (7/?)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

a/n: I have been taking a little social media break and will continue to do so, but when I’ve got 90% of this story written (I really have to get to finishing it, haha), it felt wrong to keep it from you guys. So I’m slipping in and posting a new chapter! All my love ❤️

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

-/-

“Do you want some of my chips?”

“Hmm?”

“My fries,” Killian corrects. “Do you want some of them?”

“Is that rhetorical question?”

Killian sighs and rolls his eyes before pushing his basket of fries toward her. “Half the time that I offer you my fries, you say no because you’d rather have onion rings. Though, a part of me is surprised you haven’t simply taken over and started eating them without asking.”

Emma reaches over and picks up a fry, dipping it in the ketchup before popping it in her mouth. “Look, just because onion rings are obviously the superior side for junk food doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a well done French fry. And this? This is a well done fry. “Skipper barks at Emma’s feet. “See, Skipper agrees with me.”

“Skipper agrees because he wants you to feed him.”

“He can have my leftovers.”

“Bloody hell no he cannot.” Killian snatches the basket away from her. “I’m sharing my food. You hear that, Swan? It’s mine. You can’t be giving it away to the dog.”

“You should have gotten me some lunch, too.”

“I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“Did I not text you?”

“No, love, I don’t believe I got your booty call.”

Emma picks up another fry and points it in Killian’s face. “This is not a booty call. You’re working, and I’ve got work in thirty minutes. We’re taking the kids to do a relay race on the beach this afternoon, and I don’t think my body can take jumping out the window again.”

Killian chuckles and slides the basket of fries back to him. “I’m going to build you a ladder out of my bedroom.”

“I think that would be a little obvious.”

Killian shrugs. “So, a relay race with dozens of kids. Good to know that I need to avoid the beach.”

“You just wait until we do the weekend festival for Labor Day. Then you’ll really want to avoid the beach.”

“I already have it noted in my calendar.” Killian’s eyes glance up and down her face before landing down at the top of her shirt. The man can be as subtle as a whisper, but sometimes he doesn’t even try. “You know, I can do a lot in thirty minutes.”

Emma scoffs and keeps eating her fries. Okay, Killian’s fries, but he’s sharing so now they’re definitely hers. “I know you can, but I actually look presentable today, and I tend to look not presentable after, you know…”

“After I ravish you?”

Her stomach swirls, and the way Killian’s licking his lips certainly doesn’t help. They could go to the back office or go up to his bedroom right now. It wouldn’t be a big deal. She could let him do all the effort. And as much as she wants to, she really didn’t come here to have sex. 

Then again, she doesn’t know why she came here. There was no way she could know that he was going to have food.

Wait no. She came here because it’s been a week since she’s seen him, and she needed someone to complain to about this family that’s in town that takes up all of the booths at Granny’s at least twice a day. She doesn’t treasure much in her life, but she treasures her booth at Granny’s. 

But she’s gotten her complaining out, filled him in on everything she hasn’t texted him this week, and really, what else do they have to do?

“Where’s Liam?”

“He’s meeting with the harbormaster.”

Perfect. 

“Do not touch my hair,” she tells him. “You do all of the work.”

“Don’t I always do all of the work?”

She tosses a fry at him. He misses it, and Skipper gets up from his spot to get the food. “Considering the fact that I know you like me on top, I’d think not.”

“I also like you on your knees when – ”

The bell to the shop rings behind her, and Emma sees Killian’s face before she turns around. The smirk disappears, his lips falling into a flat line, and all of the mirth in his eyes vanishes along with the crinkles around his eyes. 

What the hell?

Is Liam back? She really hopes Liam isn’t back because she does not want to deal with his icy stares and snide comments today.

And then she turns around on the stool she’s sitting on, fry still in her mouth, and sees Isabella Greene. 

Oh wait, she went by Tink, didn’t she? Yeah, she definitely went by Tink, which is such an awful nickname, but that’s probably not what she should be focusing on. 

Emma’s stomach does that weird flipping thing again and she quickly chews the fry before pushing her hair off her shoulders and straightening her shoulders. What the hell is Tink doing here?

“Tink,” Killian whispers before clearing his throat. “Uh, hello, love. I didn’t – I didn’t know – ”

“You didn’t know I was coming back?”

“I thought you were in New York.”

“I am. I’m not here for the summer or anything. My dad didn’t rent out the house this week, so I’m here with a few friends for the week. You’re not renting out the boat are you?”

Killian can’t stop blinking, and Emma swears that if he didn’t have any semblance of self-control, his mouth would be wide open. 

“Let me check. I don’t think it is.” He turns to the computer, hits a few buttons, and Emma takes her eyes away from him to see Skipper walking toward Tink. Tink immediately bends down and scratches his head, murmuring toward him. “You should be good to take it out. It is rented for next weekend, so you’d have to return it by Thursday morning for maintenance.”

“We can do that. Do I need to fill out any paperwork?”

“It’s your dad’s boat, lass.”

“So that’s a no?” she laughs, and Emma swears the woman bats her eyelashes at Killian. 

Is batting eyelashes a real thing that works on men? She doesn’t think she’s ever attracted anyone by batting her eyelashes.

“That’s a no. You’ve still got the spare key, aye?”

“I do.”

“Then you’re all set.” 

Killian flashes his most charming smile, and Emma doesn’t know if she’s ever felt so invisible. Skipper isn’t even acknowledging her anymore, and Emma is about to demolish all of Killian’s fries in the span of two minutes. Maybe that’s why no one is acknowledging her. She’s some kind of fry hog.

“Thank you, Killian.” Tink leans over the counter in a move Emma’s seen a million times. Hell, she’s done it herself. That works a hell of a lot better than eyelashes. “If you want to grab dinner sometime, you have my number.”

Killian’s eyes finally glance at Emma, but it’s brief. If she hadn’t been paying attention to him, she wouldn’t have noticed. 

“Last time I checked, you had a boyfriend.”

“Last time I checked, that didn’t seem to bother you.”

Holy shit, the balls on this woman. 

Killian’s jaw clenches, and he’s definitely grinding his teeth now. This is not how she thought this conversation was going to go. She thought she was about to end up as a major third wheel when three minutes ago she was going to be the one with her shorts pulled down and Killian thrusting into her. 

But it would be fine if he wanted to sleep with his ex instead. Emma has purposely never learned about his flings, knowing they’re never going to last, but she knew Tink enough to recognize her and to know that if one of them was going to, it was going to be her. She had no idea why it ended, though, and now that she kind of does, she definitely feels like she shouldn’t be here.

Would it be more awkward to get up and leave right now or to stay?

Did Killian know Tink had a boyfriend when he was sleeping with her? Because if he did…oh fuck, if he did she might just have to punch him. She used to think things like that weren’t any of her business, but then Neal and Tamara happened and…no, she’s not going to go there. She hasn’t let her mind fully go there in the month that she’s been broken up with Neal, and she’s certainly not going to do it now. 

“Last time I checked,” Killian grits out, “I was unaware of your attachment.”

Oh. 

“He and I were on a break then.”

“Are you now?”

Tink clicks her tongue. “We’re having some issues.”

Oh God, this really is the most awkward Emma has felt in years, and an entire town knows her boyfriend cheated on her and stares at her every time she walks down Main Street. It may have been a month, but the news just broke last week. It has been like reliving it all over again. 

At least she hasn’t seen Neal. She’s avoided him at all costs. 

Maybe not having her regular seat at Granny’s is a good thing.

“Return the boat by nine on Thursday, Ms. Greene. Have a good week with your friends.”

Tink scoffs, her lips parting, and she leans back and crosses her arms over her chest.

Oh shit, Jones. That was bold. 

And then Tink is turning around and walking out the door, the bell ringing behind her. 

Emma doesn’t know what to say. Does she say anything at all? What can she say? She just witnessed something she definitely wasn’t supposed to see, and she is not good enough with emotions to be able to deal with this. 

Where’s Mary Margaret and her emotional intelligence when Emma needs her?

Even if Emma wants to strangle Mary Margaret half the time when she’s giving some unrealistic perspective on love and relationships. 

She could use some of that right now. 

“How much time do we have until you have to be at work?” Killian asks as he stands from behind the desk. 

“Um, twenty minutes now.”

He tilts his head back toward the office before walking past her and flipping the sign on the door over. “That’s enough time, don’t you think?”

There’s fury in his eyes, and he’s never looked taller to her than he does right now as he looks down at her with his jaw so tight she can see it clenching. He’s angry, she realizes. He’s angry that Tink came in here and tried to start something back up. She has never taken him for the type to get angry about something like that. He’s Killian. He’s got a hell of a temper, gets pissed off when he sees some kind of injustice happening, but he’s always been easygoing when it comes to relationships. 

Maybe she really doesn’t know him as well as she thought. 

Or, at least, maybe she doesn’t know this facet of his life. 

“That’s enough time.”

Killian grabs her hand and pulls her up from her chair. She nearly stumbles, but his grip is strong enough to keep her steady. They walk quickly out of the front office and to the back, where Killian quickly closes the door and turns the lock before he’s on her, caging her in and hovering his lips right over hers while his hands push against the wooden frame. His breathing is so heavy, his chest heaving, and she’s so distracting by it that she barely notices the way her own chest is moving up and down with anticipation. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know,” Killian whispers into her ear. His breath is hot as it tickles down her skin. “I’ve thought that since the day we met, but I’ve never been able to tell you the way that I wanted to.”

“You definitely could have.”

“Aye, but you wouldn’t have taken it well.”

“Who says I’m taking it well now?”

Killian laughs into her neck while he rolls his hips into hers. Emma gasps as heat curls between her thighs, licking across her skin. Her heart is pounding, and her head is still reeling. She wasn’t expecting this, then she was, and it’s been back and forth so quickly that maybe she should stop thinking all together. 

Hell, she definitely should. 

Not thinking means she doesn’t have to focus on the big demons in her head or the smaller ones that are telling her that sleeping with Killian might not be her best idea. 

Not thinking means that she can let Killian run his lips across her neck before his teeth tug down on her earlobe. The moment he figured out that she liked that, she was a goner. 

The moment they first did this, she was a goner for the way that it feels and the way that she can only focus on the feel of his lips and his hands and of every inch of him covering her. Killian keeps rolling his hips into her, and the friction of the zipper on his jeans his hitting just the right spot. 

“Shit,” Emma mumbles as her head tilts back to hit against the door. “Take off your pants.”

“A little busy at the moment, love.”

Suddenly, she notices that his hands are at her waist and fumbling with the zipper on her shorts. She hears it slide down, feels Killian push her shorts and her underwear down, and then his hands are on her exactly where she wants him. 

Well, almost. They’re on a bit of a time crunch, so they don’t exactly have time to take it slow. 

Her hands reach between them as Killian’s lips fiercely press into hers. He’s determined with each slide of his lips and swipe of his tongue. There’s no laziness or slow exploration, and as much as she likes that, this feels too damn good to stop. 

His hand stops hers, and she pulls back from the kiss. “What are you doing?”

“Let me take care of you.”

“What about – ”

“We’ll make up for it at some other time, yeah?”

Emma pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and swallows the lump in her throat. She’s so damn frustrated right now that she can’t imagine saying no. 

Not that Killian lets her. His determination continues as he bends down until he’s on his knees and his hand and his lips are working her higher and higher until air is escaping her so that it’s difficult to breathe. Fuck, he’s good at this, and she doesn’t want it to stop. 

Pretty much ever.

“Just like that,” Emma groans as her head tilts back to the door. Her knees are getting a little weak, her legs shaking, and she reaches forward to curl her fingers into his hair. “Oh, fuck.”

Her releases crashes over her in small waves, and her legs shake a little more until Killian’s free arm wraps around her and holds her up, pressing her further back into the door. There’s sweat prickling at her temples, and her heart is definitely going to do something unnatural that’s going to put her in the hospital.

She would rather die than tell Whale that she’s in the hospital because of an orgasm. 

Damn. Just damn. 

“Swan, if you don’t release my hair soon, I’m going to have a bald spot.”

Emma blinks and releases her hand from Killian’s hair, smoothing it down as he helps tug her shorts up. Slowly, he stands from the ground until they’re almost eye-to-eye, and the idiot has the biggest smirk on his face. 

At least he’s no longer furious. 

“Hey,” Emma hesitates, “so about earlier with Tink – ”

“That’s a story for another time,” he quickly interrupts as he scratches behind his ear. “Why don’t you go to the restroom and straighten yourself up? Wouldn’t want any of the kids asking why you look a wee bit off.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. I’ll go do that.”

Killian’s not in the main part of the office when she finishes up in the bathroom. Skipper is still sitting behind the desk, but she barely looks up when Emma walks by.

Huh. 

She’d go upstairs and look for him, but she really had to go and get to work. Mary Margaret will kill her if she’s late, and she’d really rather not be murdered, especially since David will definitely cover things for Mary Margaret.

It’s not a long walk to the club, so Emma’s still the slightest bit shaky when she gets there. Mary Margaret, Ashley, and Aurora are all there and wrangling kids, each of them in matching t-shirts to coordinate teams. Emma’s the green team, and her kids look like they’ve gone crazy with the way they’re running around. 

No wonder their parents pay an exuberant amount of money to leave their kids with someone else while they lounge on the beach or work from home while indulging in as many margaritas as possible. 

Emma always wonders if these kids care that they don’t spend time with their parents or if they’re too young to truly realize it at the moment. 

“Why do we do this?” Emma asks as she walks up to the deck. 

“Because we like paychecks.”

“And the children,” Mary Margaret adds in with a bright smile on her face.

“You should have been a teacher, Marg.”

“If I had gone to school, maybe I would have. This pays better, though, and like Ashley, I’m about the paycheck.” Her eyes narrow at Emma. “Did you walk here from your apartment? Your cheeks are flushed.”

“It’s a hot day and I haven’t gotten my tan yet. That’ll happen. You guys ready to go?”

The kids end up loving the relay race. 

It’s exhausting, overwhelming, and Emma ends up was an ass full of sand. But it’s so damn fun that Emma doesn’t really care about the craziness of the kids or the way that they didn’t filled up on sugar beforehand. 

Okay, she cares a little bit. 

But by the time they’re finished, the kids are all exhausted, and Emma and Mary Margaret send them back to the kid’s clubhouse with Ashley and Aurora while the two of them go back to their offices and catch up on emails and phone calls before opening up wedding files for all of their couples this summer. They’ve got a weddings and rehearsal dinners almost every weekend until the middle of September, and right there on the middle weekend is Liam and Elsa’s wedding. They’d wanted to do Labor Day, but that was impossible with the party the club does and all of the town’s labor day weekend festivities. Everything was booked, and there was no way Emma or Mary Margaret could have been there as guests even if they squeezed them into a ballroom. 

Elsa said there was no way she wasn’t having the two of them there. Liam would probably not want Emma there, and she swears there was disappointment on his face when they found another weekend.

Ass. 

Emma has to take a deep breath and close her eyes as she looks at her calendar. It’s too much looking this far ahead. It’s too much, and she desperately needs to zoom back in and be a little more narrow-sighted. 

She can do this. 

She’s handled a hell of a lot of stuff that’s been more difficult than this job. 

And this is a job. It’s good pay and stable. She loves her coworkers, and she doesn’t actually mind dealing with wealthy people all day or her awful boss or couples who are way too into each other planning their weddings. 

She hasn’t been bitter about people getting married and her having to plan it for the entire time she’s worked here, and she’s certainly not going to be bitter about it now because she broke up with Neal. In the back of her mind, she used to hope and wish and maybe…but no. She’s never needed that kind of commitment. If you love someone and want to be with them, you make the commitment and you stay. It doesn’t matter if there’s a piece of paper legalizing that commitment. 

Not that Neal was committed. 

Obviously not. 

“Hey, this says you have tomorrow off,” Mary Margaret says as she looks at Emma from over the top of her computer.”

Emma blinks and shakes her head before pushing her hair back in its ponytail. “I worked Monday this week, so I took tomorrow off to make up for it. I’ll be back to our normal schedule next week.”

“Oh, good, because David was thinking of us hosting a barbecue next Saturday.”

“Next Saturday is Killian’s birthday.”

“Oh shit. Is it?”

“Mhm.” Emma rolls her chair across the office to the mini fridge to grab her bottle of water. “So, unless you want to have the barbecue be his party, I think it’s going to have to be another day.”

“I’ll text Liam and ask if they have any other plans.”

“Why not ask Killian? It’s his birthday?”

“Oh, good point. I guess it’s not a surprise. It’ll have to be late since we all work on Saturdays.”

“Supply us all with coffee and alcohol, and I think we’ll all be able to stay awake.”

“Perfect.”

-/-

When Emma finally gets to leave at nine that night, she’s starving. She didn’t get the chance to sneak into the kitchen and steal some food for dinner, and she’d do awful things for a grilled cheese from Granny’s. Emma makes them at home all the time, but it’s never quite the same. After getting her car out of the parking lot for the public beach, she back downtown to, passing by the packed Rabbit Hole and pulling into Granny’s parking lot only to realize whose car she’s parked next to. 

What the hell?

No. Just no. 

She is not going in there are dealing with him tonight. Ruby said he’d been hanging around a lot to spend time with Tamara, but Emma thought that was Ruby overexaggerating. Emma hasn’t run into him once, but here he is. 

Fuck. 

Emma leans down to rest her head against her steering wheel before slowly peaking back up. Neal is right in front of her. He’s sitting in a booth with his dad, Tamara next to him, and Emma nearly vomits at the smiles on all of their faces. 

That’s not supposed to be happening.

Tamara is just supposed to be the girl he’s fucking. She’s not supposed to be someone who he’s smiling with and who his dad has dinner with. 

Emma barely ever did that. 

She didn’t want to. She didn’t trust his dad. She still doesn’t. He’s not a good guy, he creeps Emma out, and she didn’t want to get anywhere near him if his pawn shop does end up being as shady as everyone thinks. 

She worked too damn hard to have good things in her life to get pulled down by association. 

What the hell is Neal doing? 

Was it…did he have feelings for Tamara while he was still with her? Was it more than just someone to sleep with? Because Emma could deal with it when it was just physical. She could push past that. Hell, she did while she still stayed with him. If it was more, though, she’s not sure that she’s up for that.

From the way that her heart is pounding, she knows that she isn’t, that it was more between the two of them.

Fuck. 

Emma slaps her hand down, and the horn on her bug goes off. 

No.

No, no, no, no, no. 

She quickly ducks down and hides herself. They’ve got to be looking out at the parking lot, and maybe if they don’t see her in the car, they won’t think it was her. Her car isn’t exactly inconspicuous, but someone else could drive the same way. The place is full of tourists and outsiders right now. The odds of someone else driving a bright yellow bug have to be pretty good. 

Or maybe he’ll think that she’s at the Rabbit Hole but that parking was full so she put her car over here. 

Or maybe he’ll know that it’s her and that she’s currently hiding in her own car as if she was the one who ruined her relationship. 

What the hell is she doing hiding from him? He should be the one hiding from her, not sitting in her favorite restaurant eating with his dad. 

Of course, Tamara does work there, and it’s not like Emma can get the woman fired. 

Or could she?

No, that’s wrong. Tamara knew Neal was with Emma, but it’s all on Neal. She’s not going to be the girl who blames the other woman and not the scumbag man. 

She’s also not going to be the girl who goes inside the restaurant when she’s had a long day and doesn’t want to fake pleasantries or be the talk of the town’s gossip mill tomorrow. As quietly as she can, Emma turns the key in the ignition and pulls out of the parking lot without looking back at Granny’s. That way she’ll never know if Neal saw her or not, and that’s the only thing that will keep her sane. 

She ends up driving in circles around Storybrooke and goes through a drive-thru to get herself a cheeseburger. It’s not the same as going to Granny’s, but it’s good for now. Really, she should go home, clean up a little bit, and go to bed, but she can’t seem to bring herself to. Instead she uses up half a tank of gas aimlessly driving while trying to control her breathing. It’s pretty much a lost cause when each breath is shallower than the next and soon she finds herself in a service station parking lot with her phone in hand typing out a text she definitely shouldn’t be typing out. 

He answers back within a few minutes, and his car is pulling up next to hers a quarter of an hour later. He’s silent as he slides into the passenger seat, but she appreciates that. She’s not really sure what she wants to say. 

Instead she stares at the tattoo inked across his forearm. 

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. 

She’s always liked that tattoo of his. It’s mixed within all the angry red scars that map out his skin, and there’s something beautiful about the words coexisting with proof of an accident. Maybe one day she’ll hear the story, but for now, all she knows is those words. 

Emma’s not sure if she’s getting to fail better or if it’s just the same thing over and over again. 

Killian’s slushie is half empty by the time she finally speaks. 

“I’m sorry about Tink showing up at your office earlier.”

“It was nothing.”

“Superpower,” Emma murmurs. “And I don’t even need it to tell that’s a lie.”

“I apologize for how I acted afterward. I shouldn’t have…hell, Emma, I shouldn’t use you like that.”

She twists in her seat and turns toward him, resting her cheek against the headrest. “We’re using each other physically. We both know that.”

Killian nods and mimics her movement. “Aye, I know, but on occasion, when I have the chance to think, I realize that sometimes I can be too gruff and too impulsive. Our friendship is first, and I sometimes forget that when I need to release some of the tension.”

“I don’t mind. I promise. I’m the same way. It’s why this is working.”

“What happened tonight that you called me here? It’s nearly midnight.”

“We’ve been here at three in the morning before. Midnight is nothing.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but it just as quickly faltered. “Swan.”

It’s so simple, the way he says he last name so frequently, but he could get her to tell him just about anything just like that. 

“What did I do wrong to make Neal cheat on me? I know we had drifted apart at the end, that we weren’t sleeping together as much, but I still didn’t…the thought never crossed my mind to cheat on him. And when I found out about it the first time, I let it go. I figured it was physical. But he’s in a relationship with her, and for some reason that makes it all worse.”

So, she went there. Finally. And she doesn’t know whether or not it feels better to get it all off her chest. 

“The first problem, love, is thinking there’s any fault of your own.” Killian reaches forward and tucks her hair behind her ear before swiping his thumb across her cheek. “As much as Neal had his moments, I thought he was an asshole. You have always deserved better than someone who puts your down and who betrays your trust like he did. It hurts like hell to be betrayed like that, but you’re going to be better for it.”

“When?”

“I don’t know.”

Emma blinks and closes her eyes as she makes another attempt to calm her breathing. “Is that how you felt with Tink?”

His tongue clicks. “I had feelings for her, but it wasn’t like it was for you and Neal. Most of the betrayal there was because of something in my past.”

“Oh?”

“Aye, but that’s a story for another time.” His hand runs along her neck until she can feel him gently tugging on some of the strands on her ponytail. “I’m actually a bit glad to see that you’re upset over Neal.”

She opens her eyes then. “You’re glad to see I got my heart broken?”

“If it can be broken, that means it still works.”

Emma swallows the lump in her throat and tries to keep her eyes focused on Killian’s, but his stare is so intense that she squirms and looks down back at his arm and at all of the ink that scatters his skin. It’s safer there. He can’t read her as easily. He’s always been able to do that and has called her out on her shit when he needs to, and she usually appreciates it. 

She doesn’t know what she thinks right now. 

“Sometimes I don’t want it to work,” she quietly admits as cars keep driving by the two of them, headlights brightening before fading away. 

“But it does, love, and I swear to you, one day you’ll want it to again.”

-/-

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings​ @mrtinski​ @klynn-stormz​ @scarletslippers​ @jonirobinson64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @shardminds​ @captainsjedi​ @galaxyzxstark​ @galadriel26​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @superchocovian​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @cluttermind​ @lfh1226-linda​ @andiirivera​ 

[needsmoresleepwrites]

"We understand why you did it but...we're a team, right? Together we can fly even higher. Always." (HQ Fluff Week, D1)

Restless, Ch2

Read Chapter 1 | Ao3

Hinata can't help the bouncing. It's been years since he's been back and after "sightseeing" from afar (because really, they could still be recognized, it hadn't been that long since they left) they're home.

Tsukishima scoffs, "It's only been a few years for us, it's been nearly their whole lives."

Hinata smiles, grabs Tsukishima's hand in his, reminds himself that yes, that's true, it could have been Tsukishima's whole life, nearly gone in the sixty years they'd been away, is glad they found a way to make it not so. But he also feels slightly guilty. Was Tsukishima glad he'd left all of this behind? It was still early but what if...

Tsukishima squeezes his hand, "Stop thinking, you always think about stupid things and then get sad."

Hinata pouts, "Not stupid!"

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, "Really? Then why the constipated look? Need a bathroom? You can probably run into the woods." He frowns at the lack of homes as they continue to follow the road, "Where did they say to meet again? I can't believe Tadashi lives so far..."

Meanwhile Hinata just splutters, "That's so unsanitary!! And no I'm not constipated, we haven't even eaten human food!!"

Tsukishima laughs and tugs at his arm, "Then everything is okay, let's hurry."

Hinata feels a smile come to his face again and he yells out, "Okay!" Because really, Tsukishima is right, somehow everything has been alright

Which is why they even have this opportunity

---

After being gone with little to no communication, most of Karasuno had paid them a surprise visit at their new home, which was so far out North that Tsukishima had nearly frozen when they'd first moved there.

(Hinata remembers how he'd felt so useless, unable to help warm Tsukishima. It was the opposite really, his body much too cold, and after sleeping together for years, making sure to keep his distance, at least at night when Tsukishima's temperature also dropped, had made him very sad. They'd both acclimated to the situation in time)

They had only just finished a feeding session, which Tsukishima had almost forcefully made Hinata do. He'd noticed how Hinata somehow felt colder, he had been spacing out, and that tanned tinge to his skin was starting to become paler. He had started to look like, well, a creature

"Just hurry up and drink!" He'd pushed his arm under Hinatas nose, his sweater sleeve drawn up. He'd seen the way Hinata's eyes had dilated, his mouth opened, but still he held back

He'd sighed, touched Hinata's lips, "It's okay, I'll be fine, it'll only be a bit."

Hinata had drank, carefully, watching him, making sure he really was okay. He'd then lapped at his skin, tickling him with his tongue, kissed the fading and new marks of his teeth, staining his lips red, and then bandaged him up, pulled his sleeve down, kissed him over the cloth, held his hand

"I love you."

The knock came when Hinata was putting away the first aid kit

They had both been confused. They hadn't told anyone their new address, although they also hadn't tried to hide it either (anyone who truly wanted to find them could with a bit of detective work). Tsukishima pulled on a small blanket over his shoulders as Hinata went to open the door

Karasuno's relieved but upset faces greeted him

They'd sat around their small living room, the air slightly tense.

It had been interesting to see Hinata apologize and try to hide what was going on, his flailing and muttered words so obviously lies that even Kageyama wasn't convinced.

Tsukishima had finally given into Hinata's side stare and admitted, "He's a vampire."

Hinata just gaped at him.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, it was Kageyama who broke the silence with a so that's why your hands were always so cold, which made Tsukishima want to facepalm. Really? So easily? And because of that? Hinata could have just had bad circulation (although thinking about it, that probably wouldn't have made much sense either)

But then the pieces began to come into place for the others too and Tsukishima begrudgingly was glad for Kageyama's words. The little things that everyone always found off but never truly questioned surfaced

Sugawara, "The passing out?"

Tanaka, "I knew it was weird you didn't eat as much as us even though you ran around the most!"

Nishinoya, "So cool!! Can you turn into a bat?!"

Daichi, "Wait, are you...?"

He'd shaken his head, "No." He paused. They may as well tell them about their plans too, "Not yet."

That was how they shared their biggest secret. And also when they were made to promise not to disappear again

Sugawara had smacked their backs, "Our first years are so high maintenance! I can't believe you made us come all the way out here!"

Taukishima had just sighed, "We haven't been in school for years."

Sugawara was quick to reply, "And yet you two still act like kids, especially with this little stunt!"

Azumane had been kinder. He'd grabbed Hinata by the shoulder, a soft smile on his lips, "We understand why you did it but...we're a team, right? Together we can fly even higher. Always."

Hinata had cried big ugly tears, "Always!"

---

It was the first time Hinata had broken his rule about returning to a place before it was safe and he's glad the reason is this little town where he's gained so much. Perhaps he'll find himself living here a third time (another rule broken) in the distant future, Tsukishima at his side

But for now, they sneak into town in order to meet up with their friends, practically family, without anyone's notice.

"Finally, there it is," Tsukishima sighs

It was a perfect little home with a big backyard, nearly merging with the woods behind it if it weren't for the fencing around the house. There also weren't many neighbors, which was ideal for the occasion. They came in through the back, the door left unlocked just for them

There's a woman on the porch, her silver hair cropped, and her tiny feet dangling in the air, sandals right under just in case she needs them. She has a baby on her lap, a pacifier keeping them occupied, while another child, this one a toddler, runs around with a volleyball in hand. He seems to be blubbering about something Hinata can't make out. He feels his eyes prickle and he grins wide

"Yachi!!" he waves at her while pulling Tsukishima along.

Yachi turns around, only just noticing them. She rearranges the baby so they are sitting up, "Hinata!! Tsukishima!!" She turns into the house, "Tadashi, they're here!"

There is some shuffling indoors and then a freckled man appears, his back slightly angled, "Tsukki?!"

From there, an outpour of people comes. Tsukishima mutters an I can't believe the King is still alive, I thought he'd keel over first, and Hinata can't help the bellow that leaves his body

And Kageyama, such a force on their team, is still loud and awkward and unwavering. And he needs a cane because of an injury

Sugawara had laughed when he'd told them the news a few months back, "He still acts like a kid, his body can't keep up!"

Azumane is the first to properly greet them, "You two really haven't changed."

Nishinoya is on his heels, still bright and energetic. His hair is shorter and speckled with gray, and just as wild as his high school days, "Of course they haven't, you know why!"

Azumane laughs, "Not because of that."

Yachi asks Hinata if he wants to hold the baby, her grandchild from her youngest daughter, now 23 and conveniently not home. Hinata nods enthusiastically and he's instantly charmed by the gurgles and kicking and the honey-brown eyes he's sure they've inherited from Yachi (Yachi blushes, but nods, "Yup! My daughter and her husband both have dark eyes so all mine!).

As he's holding the child, he realizes this is the first time he's been this happy, not about leaving, he will always hate leaving, but at how things turned out

He watches Tsukishima carry the other child, who hadn't stopped staring at him because "Ta'! Me, up, up!"

Daichi and Tanaka aren't there yet, both of them running late (Sugawara tells them Daichi went to pick up Kiyoko and Tanaka from her family home where she'd been visiting her parents' graves. He'd laughed at Hinata's worried look, Don't worry. None of them are actually driving.) - but everyone else is sitting outside in the shade of the porch, recounting the latest gossip. Their laughing is loud and Hinata thinks that his family has also not changed at all

He looks over at Tsukishima, who now has a slightly disgusted look on his face as he lets the child climb on his shoulders, his dirty hands pulling at his blonde hair

Hinata smiles.

Together they really have flown to the top

It's perfect.

---

A/N:

i was conflicted about tenses and character names #rip (ah well)

i hope you guys enjoyed! this is sort of the “good ending” of this used to be oneshot i wrote for the seasons of anime exchange, but like i mentioned in that posts notes, i kind of wanted to continue but didn’t know if i should do the good or bad ending xD maybe if there’s a hq angst week i can post the bad ending :”) but for now, i think this will be it?! who knows

Prompts for day 1: - Reunion - Found family - "We can fly even higher!"

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi steph! Hope you’re having a lovely day :-) I was wondering if you could rec some miscommunication fics — they’re my fave and I’m aaaaaalways looking for more. Thanks in advance, you’re the best!!!!

Hi Lovely!

AHHH I love this kind of fic too!! I haven’t tagged ALL of my fics with misunderstandings in them, but I’ve a sizeable amount that I think you will enjoy! 

Not all of them, but a good start! As always, if any of my lovelies have their own to rec, please add them!

MISUNDERSTANDINGS / MISCOMMUNICATION

See also: Alexx’s Miscommunication Fic

Given In Evidence by verityburns (M, 5,034 w., 19 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Angst, Drama, Case Fic, Romance, BAMF!John, Submissive Sherlock, First Kiss, Humour) – Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing... rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same...

Sociopathy and Other Fibs by kinklock (M, 5,314 w., 1 Ch. || 5+1, Miscommunication, Humour, Friends to Lovers, Post S3, Love Confessions) – Five times John called Sherlock out, and one time Sherlock returned the favour.

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”

the lingering taste of orange juice by darcylindbergh (G, 5,824 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Fluff, Miscommunications, Humour) – Sherlock felt the familiar heat surge in his abdomen again at the touch: hope strung taut between head and heart as in all the quiet moments between them, when Sherlock sometimes got the clues all mixed up and thought maybe John felt something too. For once, Sherlock is the idiot.

My First, My Only, and My Forever by vintagelilacs (E, 6,220 w., 1 Ch. || Post-ASiB, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Bum, John’s Scar, Sherlock POV, Body Worship, Fingering, Bottomlock, Promise of Forever / Proposals, Misunderstanding, First Kiss/Time, Loss of Virginity, Virginity Kink, Seduction) – Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He was missing a vital piece of data, he was sure. John had been looking at him oddly ever since they left Buckingham Palace, and the ensuing incident with Irene Adler had only exacerbated his erratic behaviour. What was it? Why would he care that Sherlock was a virgin? There was nothing reminiscent of mockery or pity in his gaze. And then it hit him. John Watson was aroused.

The space between by Salambo06 (E, 6,830 w., 2 Ch. || PWP, Friends to Lovers, Masturbation, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Miscommunications, Bottom Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Sexual Fantasy) – “It’s for a case,” Sherlock says as soon as John looks down at his computer. John remains silent for a long moment, eyes moving from the screen to Sherlock, before saying, “You don’t have to explain.” His voice is low, too low, and Sherlock looks at the computer, putting the video on pause. “Lestrade asked me-, no, forced me to find out who’s threatening a famous porn star, and the suspect is among his co-stars, so I only need to watch out for any signs from his partners, anything that might show they’re the one sending those threats and I can move to something else.” “Right.”

High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, POV John, Embarrassed John, Adorable Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you're coiled like a spring and ready to be ... sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don't mean anything. Let’s drop it.”

I can’t pretend by Salambo06 (E, 7,692 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Victor Trevor, Jealous John, Miscommunications, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Anal, BJs) – They had arrived more than a hour ago, and the moment they had walked inside the hotel reception, John had understood why Sherlock hadn’t wanted to come. Two men, posh suits and expensive watches on their wrists, had come to greet them with sharp remarks and badly hidden mockery, and John had seen red. Sherlock hadn’t said anything, mostly ignoring the two men entirely, and without thinking twice about it, John had slid an arm around Sherlock’s waist and introduced himself as his husband.

On the Losing Side by missselene (E, 8,210 w., 1 Ch. || Anal / Oral, First Kiss / Time, Angst, Misunderstandings, Mild Dub Con / Drunk John) – After Mary's death, John moves back into Baker Street, but is still upset at the loss of his wife and child. Eventually, he and Sherlock stumble into a sort of relationship, but it's more physical than anything and they don't talk about it. They especially don't talk during sex. If they are going to have sex, Sherlock notices the signs hours beforehand, and he prepares carefully. The lights are off, they're under the covers, he prepares himself using lots of lube so he can make it feel as much like a woman as he can, and he doesn't let himself make any noise so that, if John wishes, he can pretend that he's still with Mary.

The Red Dianthus by kinklock (T, 11,382 w., 3 Ch. || Supernatural Elements, BAMF!John, Misunderstandings, Fluff, Romance, Halloween, Dev. Rel., Case Fic) – The boys investigate a mysterious disappearance in a supposedly haunted house, and get much more than they bargained for.

I'm content as we are (but) by inqui (The_Circus) (E, 13,086 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, UST/RST, Pining, Victor Trevor, Minor Whump, First Kiss / Time, Misunderstandings) – In which John Watson sees something unusual, becomes jealous, and makes too much of a small thing as an old friend of Sherlock's shows up in the middle of a case.

Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock's body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn't as sure...

For you, there's only me by shock_blanket (E, 19,557 w., 7 Ch. || Jealous Idiots, Virgin Sherlock, UST/RST, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss / Time, Insecure Sherlock, Masturbation) – Sherlock realizes he has fallen in love with John, but believes he is unlovable. Cue lots of pining and jealousy on Sherlock's part, followed by our favorite cuddly marksman making it all better. Because for Sherlock, there's only John.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

Don't Leave Anything Out by lookupkate (E, 27,422 w., 24 Ch. || Letters / Epistolary, Misunderstandings, Angst, Happy Ending, Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock in Love, Pining Sherlock) – The first letter John writes home from Afghanistan is meant to go to a woman he went on only one date with. How it ends up in Sherlock's hands is completely innocent. What happens next is not. What do you do when you find out the person you're in love with has been lying about something as monumental as who they are? What do you do when you're the one who lied?How on earth do you put the pieces back together?

"finally kiss the bloody idiot" by Salambo06 (E, 29,812 w., 13 Ch. || Mutual Pining, Fake Relationship, First Kiss / Time, Angst, Misunderstandings, Fantasies, POV John) – Inspired by a fic idea on tumblr : "John and Sherlock know the Yard has a pool going for when they’re finally going to get together. It’s been running forever, and it’s worth thousands of pounds. It’s all fun and games, hahaha, until they find out Lestrade is in dire financial straits (dog needs emergency surgery, he’s putting his kid through gymnastics training, I don’t know, something), and they decide to fake a relationship to win the pool for him. Sherlock figures out the day and way that Lestrade thinks it’s going to happen, and they act it out. It’s all for a good cause, fake relationship style, until it’s not." Part 1 of The Pool

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

Goodness Gives Extras by mydwynter (E, 39,629 w., 6 Ch. || Fluff & Angst, Case Fic, Oral / Anal, Humour, First Time, Miscommunication, Snark, Christmas) – Christmas time. 'Tis the season to settle down with a drink, some food and a present or two, and to enjoy the quiet relaxation of the holiday. Instead, there's a case that drags them all over, missing presents, disappointed kids, angry parents, and a freak snowfall. On top of that John has to deal with Sherlock, who is being even more of a prat than usual. He really shouldn't have expected anything different.

In the Still of the Night by SilentAuror (E, 42,234 w., 1 Ch. || S4 Fix It / Post-S4, Sherlock POV, Angst, Drama, Romance, Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Misunderstandings / Miscommunications, Case Fic, Travelling, Pining) – As locals on the Northeastern coast begin to report UFO sightings, life at Baker Street becomes significantly awkward as John brings up his desire for more than friendship and Sherlock refuses him. They embark on the investigation from the confines of the tiny cottage Mycroft has rented for them, attempting to navigate both the clues of the case as well as their own inability to communicate...

In the Dark Hours by hubblegleeflower (E, 51,639 w., 12 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Unreliable Narrator, Closeted Bi John, Angst, Miscommunications, Slow Burn, First Time, John’s Blog / Epistolary, Selective Mutism) – John, wounded and silent, drifts back to Baker Street for healing...and then goes home again. He visits, gets more upbeat, chattier, smiles, jokes... and still goes home again. Sherlock wants him to move back in - it just makes sense - but John shows no signs of doing so. This is the story of how John and Sherlock learn to say what needs to be said when they're both so very, very rubbish at talking.

One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w., 12 Ch. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) –  A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That's all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

MARKED FOR LATER

Three drinks or was it five by iriswallpaper (M, 1,455 w., 1 Ch. || Mild Dub Con / Drunk Sex, Morning After, First Time, Awkwardness / Awkward Sex, Idiots in Love, Avoiding The Talk™/Miscommunication, Fluff, Happy Ending) – Sherlock wakes up beside John, naked in his bed, after a night of getting hammered together on very good Scotch. Trying to spare John embarrassment, Sherlock makes as much noise as possible to indirectly wake John, all the while dreading the Very Important Talk he knows John will want to have.

The Case of the Frog Murder and the Disembodied Dog's Head by a_different_equation (T, 2,794 w., 1 Ch. || ACD Canon || Victorian, Period-Typical Homophobia, Christmas, Est. Rel., Hound of Baskervilles, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Fluff and Humour, Miscommunication) – The true story behind the Baskerville case, and its strange and rather queer conclusion via Christmas Cards.

Sherlock's Solution by PipMer (T, 4,125 w., 1 Ch, || Fluff, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Isolation/Quarantine, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss) – Sherlock and John are stuck in quarantine. Against all expectations, John is the one who goes stir-crazy first. Sherlock has a unique solution to the problem.

The Idiot's Deduction by PaperPrince (T, 4,194 w., 2 Ch. || Fluff, Humour, Drama, Angst, Romance, Mentions of Sex, Miscommunications, Just Talk Already) – It's not often Sherlock gets things wrong but then he was never very good with the softer emotions was he? This fic is based on the idea that no one falls into a relationship without knowing about it right? Apparently Sherlock can though.

It's Cold Outside by Salambo06 (E, 7,357 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, Cuddling, Snuggling, Frottage, First Kiss / Time, Bed Sharing, Miscommunications, Love Confessions) – John and Sherlock, Christmas night, the heat broke, add some shared body heat and (not so) accidental erections mixed with some miscommunication and awkwardness and, you guessed it, they’re sharing a bed.

A Study in Dichotomy by UrbanHymnal (E, 7,439 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Misunderstandings, Fluff and Humour) – John wants his brilliance and his stupidity; his knowledge of 243 types of ash and his inability to name all the planets in the solar system; his perfectly pressed suits and his wrinkled t-shirts carelessly tossed on inside out. John wants to kiss Sherlock when he is still waking to the world, to press against him when he is still warm from sleep. He wants to grab Sherlock by the scarf and haul him close so he can bury his nose in the sweat that has collected at the base of Sherlock's neck, under his arms, in between his legs.

A Chemical Defect Found (On the Losing Side Remix) by AreteArt (M, 7,978 w., 1 Ch. || First Time / Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Mildly Dubious Consent, Angst, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Pining, Anal / Oral Sex, Frottage) – A remix of missselene's "On the Losing Side." After Mary's death, John moves back into Baker Street. He and Sherlock stumble into a relationship, or something of that sort. Sherlock's rather giving when it comes to sex, but that doesn't mean he and John ever talk about it.

As long as it takes by PlainJane (E, 14,866 w., 7 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Kiss/Time, Anal/Oral, Misunderstandings, Gambling, Indecent Proposal, Friends to Lovers, John POV) – Anything Sherlock wants. All night. No strings attached. Part 1 of the John Watson's way series

A Question of Intent by Mildredandbobbin (E, 22,129 w., 6 Ch. || Omegaverse || Dub Con / Consent Issues, Misunderstandings, Knotting, First Time, Switching, Mating Cycles, Top/Bottom O!Sherlock, Top/Bottom A!John) – Sherlock was on the bed, naked, writhing, tangled in the sheets, on all fours and apparently in the full throes of a Heat. So very not good, the non-lizard part of John's brain was saying -- the enlightened 21st Century, reconstructed Alpha part, the part that supported Omega contra-heat, equality, pro-choice, the Omega rape legislation and general gender liberation. The part that knew Sherlock did not, obviously did not, want to copulate with him and certainly did not want to bond.

Divinest Sense by ChrisCalledMeSweetie (E, 25,001 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Mental Health Issues, First Kiss/Time, Coded Clues, Virgin Sherlock, Bisexual John, Slow Burn) – John has been sectioned — deemed to be a danger to himself and others — and is facing six months in an experimental psychiatric treatment facility. After his recent drug overdose, Sherlock is being shipped off by his brother to live amongst the mad, as though this will somehow improve his mental health. What will happen when these two damaged men meet under the least auspicious of circumstances?Hint: You can expect some humorous misunderstandings, burgeoning attraction, coded clues that the reader is invited to try to decipher, eventual explicit sex, and altogether more fluff than one might imagine, given the rather dark premise of this story. Part 1 of the Divinest Senses

A Firm Hand by Ellipsical (E, 36,776 w.+, 11/? Ch. || WiP || Daddy Kink, Office Sex, Blow/Hand Jobs, Bearded John, Exhibitionism, Vulnerability, Kinks, Spanking, Anal, Prostate Milking, Submission, Mile High Club, Misunderstandings, Rimming, Confessions, Anal Plug) – Dr. John Watson, newly turned 35 and recently minted as CEO of Watson Technology, a med tech corporation based in London, after the death of his father, had recently hired the son of an old family friend to be his new personal assistant. The boy had spiralled out of control, according to his parents, and needed a firm hand to guide him. John, who had heard the name Sherlock Holmes crop up in other circles, had an inkling as to why.

Know When You've Been Beaten by Breath4Soul (M, 44,838 w., 12 Ch. || Caretaker John, Autisim Spectrum / Neurodiversity, Sexual Tension / UST, Dark Past, Implied / Referenced Sexual Assault, Dev. Rel., Love Confessions, Hurt / Comfort, First Kiss, Drugged Sherlock) – What began with a drugged and vulnerable Sherlock confessing some things about his sexual history and feelings towards John (after Irene Adler injected him and escaped), becomes a sweet, humorous and awkward journey of Sherlock overcoming his past to flirt with the idea of something more with his companion. Misinterpretations and misunderstandings plague the two, as the good-natured, compassionate and sometimes BAMF ex-army doctor, is seduced by-proxy by the mad-genius detective trying to work through what he wants and if he is capable of providing it.

Your Many Tendencies Series by apliddell (T, 52,222+ w. across 5 works || WiP || Femlock, POC Characters, Enby Character, Sherlock’s Violin, YouTuber John, UST, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Slow Burn, Domesticity, Fluff, Recreational Drug Use, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock’s Past, First Kiss, Love Confessions, John’s Family, Christmas, Anxious Sherlock, Hurt / Comfort, Institutional Racism) – John Watson returns to London after a long absence, somewhat the worse for wear. She meets Sherlock Holmes, and starts feeling excited about life again.

Proof of Sentiment by LollipopCop (E, 55,082 w., 14 Ch. || Post S3, URT/UST, Pining Sherlock, Angst, First Time, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Mary is Not Nice, Happy Ending) – Sherlock accidentally walks in on John and Mary having sex, and he wonders if his relationship with John could ever be the same.

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

The Craving in Between by love_in_mind_palace (E, 69,349 w., 16 Ch. || Wedding Planner AU || Infidelity, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Sexting & Texting, Alternating POV, Mary is Not Nice) – Sherlock Holmes, The wedding Consultant. Picky about his projects and a nightmare to work with. Rejects ninety percent of the couples after just having a look at them and can predict how long a marriage will last. But when unassuming, plain, John Watson reluctantly limps his way in his office, with his more than enthusiastic fiancée, Mary Morstan, instead of dismissing the ill-assorted couple on the spot, he promptly decides that the project, and the groom.. are definitely worth working on.

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (E, 107,430 w., 57 Ch. || S4 Compliant to TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock’s Italian Adventure, Jealous John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, First Kiss/Time, Idiots in Love, Angst with Happy Ending) – After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being.

The Jewel in the Tower by PoppyAlexander (E, 207,079 w., 39 Ch. || Dystopian AU, Violence, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Mild Dub Con, One World Government, Class Issues, Assassin John / Geisha Sherlock, Self Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Espionage, Miscommunication, Sexual Fantasy, Masturbation, Letters/Texting, Phone Sex, Infidelity, First Time, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Injury Recovery, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Scars, Misgendering, Happy Endings) – In a contemporary dystopia, Unity is peace – despite the fact unsanctioned information, illicit currency, and every sort of danger flows unchecked in the world's pleasure districts. John Watson, a weary hired gun, is assigned by the mysterious Mentor to investigate a subversive element lurking in the Icehouse, the world's most famous House of Repose. As accustomed as he is to dealing with the unexpected, John is nevertheless woefully unprepared to meet the gem of the Ice house, Xie, the world renowned "drashaskaya," the living work of art after which all other drashas are modeled. In sumptuous suites, amid trailing puddles of silk and fervent whispers in the night, John soon learns that nothing is as it seems in the floating world of London's pleasure district. (PUBLISHED AS “At Night in the Floating World”)