#everyone thank these three for creating bisexual

[seasideoranges]

despite everything i love how so many just agree that sokka, zuko and suki are bisexual. no questions asked, no arguments needed, just one look at them and its an immediate “oh yeah, they’re bisexual, anyways-“

[emoisthenewemu]

"Their Love Ripened with Them" ~ Zoë Hange x F!Reader

"Seldom had two people loved more than they did; they loved with an ardour undiminished by time; as they ripened, so their love ripened with them" Radclyffe Hall, The Well of Loneliness

WC: 11.1k (oops)

A/N: OOOWHEEEE this story has been sitting close to a YRRR (i did forget ab it for half of that time). lowk inspired by the well of loneliness only bc i was reliving my sapphic literature phase. wow i have been so excited to post this because i had to take my time it's so special to me. i wanted true wlw YEARNING, as a catholic bisexual this hit deep. Zoë Hange you will always own a piece of my heart.

CW: LESBIAN ANGST, YEARNING, Hange is kinda fluid in their gender (she/they) and is referred to using both pronouns, homophobia (readers family is extremely conservative), Zoë is poked fun at for being 'weird', marriage to a MAN, man hating, curse words, slightt suggestiveness, CHEATING, crying, breakups, PAIN, cliffhanger ending

PT2 COMING SOON!!

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Zoë Hange has been single all of their life. Always being told you're 'too much' or 'weird' or 'freaky' can weigh a person down, so much so to the point where you might believe what everyone has been saying is true. Yes, Zoë agrees they are too much for any sane person to handle-Lord knows they wouldn't want to put up with them self so why would anyone else? Once they reached adulthood, they never had the desire to marry-even date as all of their comrades began to create their own family and settle down Zoë did nothing but watch. Thanking Sheena that they have never found themself in such a predicament. Being a Scout was busy work anyways; it did not leave time for much else. Especially for a person like Zoë who spent all of their free time locked away thinking up new experiments. They were secure in being single.

That's not to say they do not find people attractive. Hange is quite the woman-lover. Some men are fortunate enough to catch her eye, but in those cases, it has to be very specific and even then slightest thing can turn them off.

Women are a different story.

Women are soft and pretty. They smell good and have sweet voices. Women are Zoë's only weakness, the only thing which could ever deviate their laser-focused attention on all things titan. They would never be irresponsible about it of course, but even the hardest working soldiers deserve a break sometimes.

That is exactly why they have found themselves visiting a little bakery on the outskirts of the district. Erwin has been raving about their pastries and Zoe has decided they need to find out if they are as good as he says they are. Levi has joined them, mostly because he was forced by his Commander to socialize and take a break from all the training every once in a while. He remains quiet as Zoë blabbers both of the men's ears off talking about their notes on the latest expeditions.

"How did you come across this place anyways?" Zoë cannot help but question, it's very out of the way when you consider Erwin's usual route to go back home and visit family.

"One of the MP's recommended it to me. His girlfriend has been working here since it opened"

"MP?" Levi questions. "Then it's gonna be shit"

The bell above the door rings as you take some freshly made buns out of the oven, causing you to wipe off all of the flour from your hands. You go to greet your newest customers, shocked to find three members of the Scout Regiment in front of you. Erwin, you have met before, thanks to your boyfriend he now frequents your shop. And Levi you have heard about of course, he is Humanity's strongest after all. But the other one, you have no idea.

Your chest tightens at the sight of her. Eyes do a quick scan up and down which you think is not obvious, but Zoë catches on immediately, perhaps because they were doing the same thing to you. "Erwin! You've brought me some customers!"

The man laughs as you make your way to greet him with a friendly hug and he introduces you to the shorter man beside him. But it seems your eyes are elsewhere, stuck on the stranger who makes your chest feel warm. Their ponytail is sticking everywhere, as untamed as the grin which dons their face. A nice white button up with black pants which seem to fit them nicely-oh wow, close your mouth. You're practically drooling.

"This is Squad Leader, Zoë Hange. My right-hand man"

If Zoë had not been so preoccupied on committing your face to memory, they might hold onto the fact that Erwin considers them his 'right-hand man'. They stick out their hand almost comically, their grip is firm. Almost enough to make you wince as you cannot help but look into their wild eyes. There is an unspoken spark between you two, it almost feels like a jolt of electricity beneath your fingertips.

Your hands are soft and warm like the fluffy loafs you had previously popped out of the oven. What a sight you are, Zoë thinks. They always remember how pretty you looked that first day they met you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Zoë" Your smile is inviting, only drawing the soldier in closer.

"The pleasure's all mine" Their words are accompanied by a not-so-subtle wink that makes you chuckle, cheeks warming up from all the body heat trapped in the room, yea-that's what it is.

Their visit is pleasant, although you and Zoë do most of the talking. They ask how early you must have to wake up in the mornings to prepare the dough and you tell them you arrive before the sun is even up. You talk all about the old lady who owns the shop that can no longer handle it by herself, how you spend most days as the one of the only employees because it is rare to see the frail woman out of bed these days. And they listen, Erwin throws in an occasional comment or two, but it is clear Zoë is in charge of the conversation. They never fail to find a new thing to bring up. They talk your ear off until it is time for them to leave and you would be lying if you said you weren't sad to see them go.

They give you a firm hug-chests pressed together as you take in the scent of their cologne. The scent lingers in your mind as you close up later that night, you swear it smells like they are still there.

"Oh, thank Sheena you made me shower before I left Erwin! I think we just found the love of my life!" Zoë swoons.

The man laughs, he knew you were a nice young lady. Which is why he had the decency to dousing his squad leader in cologne before they left for town. He'll be damned if his soldiers are walking around smelly and making him look bad. And Zoë thanks him because they are certain you took a big sniff when the two of you were hugging goodbye. "Forgive me for saying this Hange but I fear you're not her type" Erwin tries to let them down easy.

Zoë freezes, both of the men stalling to look back at their offended friend. "Oh please! I know a woman lover when I see one!"

Levi scoffs, ever-so-blunt. "I thought you weren't a woman"

"I'd rather be a woman than a man!"

Erwin laughs at his boisterous comrade, a part of him dares to feed into their delusions. "She did seem quite talkative today. I've never had such a long conversation with her"

"Thought you said she has a boyfriend" Levi interjects.

Zoë can only laugh. "He's an MP! MPs don't know how to treat a lady!"

"And you do?"

"Yes, I'm quite familiar" Zoë adjusts the glasses on their face, a devious smirk begins to grow. It seems you have lit a fire in their soul, for the first time in a long time they crave something. Someone. And Hange always gets what they want, they'll scheme if they have to.

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It takes two more visits over the course of a month before Hange is absolutely certain you are not as 'straight' as you pretend to be. Every time you are just as friendly and inviting as before, it doesn't seem to bother you that they stay longer than the average customer. But even then, all of the conversations are very surface level, almost like both of you are afraid to take it any further. You even send them back home with a few extra treats-you were going to throw them away anyways. So, you don't charge the soldier, you insist their presence is enough payment.

It is a lonely life you live. You've come to tell Hange all about it. How you are your parents only child and the only thing they have ever wanted for you is to get married and start a family. Your father is a very traditional man, he believes men have a role as the head of the household, they are the protectors and decision makers. And it is your job as a woman to keep your man happy, to maintain a clean house and ensure there is dinner on the table every night. He did not let you go to school like you wanted; to study medicine and it was not like you could afford it yourself at the time. You have the money now though and you admit to Hange that sometimes you think about getting an education in secret-to make something of yourself.

"Honestly, it makes me kind of sick. I love my dad but sometimes I feel like the only thing he thinks I'm good for is to be a wife" You speak honestly, you do not know how you found yourself so comfortable with the soldier. You have never told anyone about wanting to go to school, just Hange.

"I'm afraid it's a generation thing. My folks were the same way" Zoë admits between bites of pastry, small crumbles falling from their lips. "But you should go to school, it's not right to live your life for someone else"

Those words hit particularly hard, a slight twinge in your chest because it is so much deeper than you let on. How you have spent your life ignoring a fact you know to be true-one that would make your father ashamed you were ever born. And you are so lost in thought that you remain silent for a while, picking at the skin of your nails. This is the deepest your conversations have ever gone, and a part of you wonders why they would even care. "Oh, I don't know...probably too late to start now"

Your eyes meet and you extend a hand to their shoulder, rubbing it graciously. "Thank you for listening to me Hange...lately it feels like no one does"

"What about your boyfriend?" Zoë has been waiting weeks to ask that question. The shock on your face is evident. "I mean-doesn't he listen to you?"

You are a bit taken aback that Zoë knows about him because you had failed to mention anything about your relationship until now. You knew you did it on purpose but weren't ready to admit it. You were probably naive to think Erwin hadn't mentioned it before. But honestly you hadn't thought about him in weeks. You laugh at the thought that he would be open to talking about your feelings. "I hardly ever see him anymore...and he's not much of a talker"

"Well why not? Doesn't he come and visit?"

The Sun is starting to go down and you are starting to clean up, but you don't mind Zoë's presence. You cannot remember the last time it felt like someone was interested in what you had to say. "He's very busy...but if he gets promoted then he says he'll move me out there with him"

"Is that what you want?"

You pause your movements, nails digging into the wood of the broomstick. "Sure" It was always your father's dream to live inside wall Sheena, to give you and your mother 'the life you deserve'.

Zoë laughs. "I'm not convinced".

You mimic the smile on their face, teasing as you turn your head to get a better look at them. "And what do you want Hange? Enough of me. I'd like to know what your future entails"

"Hmm" It is clear that Zoë takes your question very seriously, eyebrows furrowed in thought as they bring up a hand to their chin. "I'd have to keep you the rest of the night to tell you about everything I want, sweetheart"

Your eyebrows raise at the nickname, the smile on your face fails to drop. "We can save it for next time then"

Zoë is fetching their coat, painfully aware of the fact that they have a long trek ahead of them. But it's worth it, this is the most relaxed they've been in weeks. It feels like they can forget the stress which eats away at them most nights, the thoughts of every single comrade they failed to save. Over here things are not hectic, they have no responsibility. To be able to kick their feet up and chat with a pretty lady, being fed sweets which will most definitely give them a headache in the long run-it doesn't get much better than this. "Until next time, YN. I will get my list started of all my hopes and dreams now"

"You better" You walk them to the front of the shop, a shy smile on your face. Ignoring the pit in your chest because you don't want them to go. The second Zoë leaves you will go back to the same monotonous routine you've done for the past nine years. You will get up at the same time every morning, step into the same tattered clothes because there is not much point in trying to impress people these days-you'd just get covered in flour anyways. On your days off you visit your parents and make them dinner, maybe read a book or write a letter to your boyfriend. You greet the same customers every week and prepare the same things, sometimes it feels like and endless loop you will never escape.

"I'll be waiting for you, Hange" You give them a hug, their arm rests comfortably around your waist. It creates butterflies in your stomach as you pull away slightly to look them in the eye one more time.

"Zoë" They insist. It would sound so lovely coming out of your mouth. "Call me Zoë"

"Goodnight Zoë" You push the bag of pastries into their chest, they almost forgot to take it home. "Get home safe"

You have given Zoë something to think about. What is their end goal? What is the point to everything they do?

What do I want?

Zoë thinks aloud as if the horse were going to provide an answer. It is a bit of a loaded question; they meant it when they said it would take all night to answer. There are many things Zoë wants; to find out what's truly on the other side of the walls, where Titans even come from in the first place. To find the right way to avenge all those who died for the cause, to make their sacrifice meaningful. However (selfish as it may be), atop the list of Zoë Hange's wants and needs sits one very special person.

You.

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The next time you almost see each other you are unaware that Hange has been working up a scheme of sorts against you. To prove it to their comrades (but mostly themself) that you indeed are interested in women-that Hange may actually have a chance with you. Levi and Moblit think Hange is full of it. However, Erwin and Nanaba seem to believe in their enamored friend. They want to be optimistic about things and Erwin is well aware that your MP boyfriend has been neglecting you anyways, why shouldn't his friend be there to pick up the pieces?

Zoë has even managed to bring some of Levi's squad into the middle of all this-well just one in particular. Petra is going to be their 'bait' for today. And she is more than happy to even be involved-it is evident in her face as she skips along with a few of her superiors. They walk and talk as Hange applies some rouge to the young Scout's lips.

"I can't believe you managed to drag Petra into this stupid little plan of yours" Levi grumbles. "Do you not find it demeaning?" He asks the woman whose corset would burst had it been done any tighter.

"Demeaning?! I'm flattered that I was the first hot girl Hange could think of!" Petra means it, truly.

The man only sighs, regretting entertaining such childish antics by tagging along. The only reason was to stop by a bookstore around the corner and he did not really feel like walking around town by himself. Definitely not because he was being nosey and wanted watch how it all plays out.

Once they reach the corner by your comfy little bakery, Hange stops-pushing the two women towards the shop. Zoë insists they must not tag along or else you will suspect their little rouse. It is essential. Levi calls it stupid. Forcing sweet innocent Petra to go in there and flirt with you, galivant around in some tight dress. It was offensive to both of you-to women all throughout the walls really. But it seemed Hange's rose-colored glasses were causing them to go blind and there was not much anyone could say to stop them. Perhaps it was a distraction from all of the carnage they had been suffering back home. Maybe he should indulge in his friend whom he knows has not slept in days. They go to his bookstore, but Zoë's mind has clearly not joined them-their eyes constantly darting towards the door as if they were expecting you to walk right through it.

It's so serious that Zoë is willing to miss out on seeing your face, just this one week. It wouldn't help out with the experiment, scientifically speaking. And Levi reminds them that they are stupid for not just going in there to talk to you as Hange whines on their way back about how much they miss you. "Call me crazy, but what if you just ask her out on a date?"

"You're crazy!" Hange laughs and Levi rolls his eyes, purposefully walking forward because he knows Zoë would not dare step into your line of sight.

Finally, some peace and quiet, he sighs. How did he find himself in the midst of such lowly behavior? The door to your shop swings open and he watches Nanaba and Petra say their farewells. Things seem friendly-nothing worth noting. You even get a glimpse of him, waving because it is simply in your nature to be so amicable. This plan was definitely a bust, even if the women do think you were flirting back who's to say you were not just being nice? He waves back, slightly shaking his head because he will now have to hear about the disappointment of it all on the horse ride home.

Then Petra drops something, he's not sure what exactly fell to the ground because if he was being honest his eyes are elsewhere. He looks away for a few seconds only to meet you in some awkward eye contact as you realize the both of you caught each other gawking at the very same thing. Levi walks away swiftly, not even offering a goodbye as he tries to catch up to his fellow soldiers who are now several steps ahead of him.

"I'm telling you Hange! I was laying it on! And she did not seem interested at all, she was asking about you the whole time!"

"She even sent us some extra bread rolls for you-" Nanaba is cut off by Hange snatching the bread out of the bag.

"So, what does this mean?!" They ask in between mouthfuls.

"It means I lost my touch" Petra whines, slightly insulted that her charm had not worked.

"I think it means she likes you" Nanaba ignores her sulking friend.

"But it is it as a friend?! Or could it be more?"

Levi had to squeeze his way through a crowd of people that had somehow magically appeared. Now picking up the pace to try and tell his fellow soldiers about his latest discovery. It is not long before he runs up in front of them, halting the group's movements. "Hange! You were right! YN's a woman lover!"

"Huh?"

"I caught her looking at Petra's ass when she bent over" He sounds almost proud of himself.

"Really?!" Hange and Petra squeal in unison, it is not clear who is more excited at the revelation.

Petra has a sudden blush to her face. "Wait Captain! Does that mean you were looking too?" The way they all fall into a fit of laughter certainly does not help his case, ears turning pink due to the embarrassment.

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When Hange is gone you miss them. Their presence, wild eyes and at times questionable jokes. You always laugh at their jokes though, so you aren't sure who the weird one is supposed to be. They only have the time to come around once every other weekend (if that). You count the days as they go by, eighteen days have passed since their last visit, so you are eagerly awaiting their arrival by the time Saturday morning comes. Their friends from last weekend assured you that Hange would be off today. But it is far past afternoon, and they have yet to set foot in your shop, usually they are one of your first customers of the day.

The bell above the door rings and you unashamedly run out of the kitchen, expecting that excited smile you had grown so accustomed to.

Instead, you come to face your boyfriend in his uniform, for some reason your face slightly drops. A sudden weight in your chest as you step forward to greet him. He kisses you and you feel nothing, an unfamiliar ache in your heart as you pull away. "James, I-I had no idea you would be visiting"

You subconsciously flatten your skirt, swatting at your hair in an attempt to make yourself look a bit more presentable. You have not looked your best lately-you can admit that. "Would have fixed myself up a bit more" You chuckle as he places a quick peck to your lips.

"Aw don't worry about that, darling. It looks like it has been a long day" He rubs your arm soothingly.

The MPs are in town, due to some renovations in their living quarters. They are visiting family, planning to go out and make the most of the opportunity of having a few days off. It seems your boyfriend has plans at a pub nearby-most of his MP friends will be in attendance and they are so excited that they even invited the Scouts. You almost choke on your tea at that revelation, now home as you multi-task. Going between powdering your face and enjoying the hot liquid because for some reason you feel so cold. You sigh, looking at James who blabbers on about how he is getting closer to the King and expects to climb the ranks any day now. He is good to you, although a bit neglectful, he has never disrespected you. Nor has he made you cry or even argued with you really. Maybe it was because you did not care enough to argue, to pout when things do not go your way. He never asked for your opinion anyways, it was always about him. But you did not mind because you did not even know yourself-you could never bare your soul to a man who would not understand. Being with James was convenient for both of you, it made him look good because he had someone to talk about, a beautiful woman to bring to all the military events who did not ask for much.

And you are using him even more than he is using you. Using him to keep your parents off your back about being single for so long, although they do still constantly ask when you will be engaged. The thought makes you shudder, even the idea of marrying a man makes you feel ill. But it is what your father wants. And he is the only man in your life who genuinely cares for you, bigotry aside.

James is handsome and has a good job. One that ensures he does not invade your privacy or personal life. He was kept away at a distance, which made you happier than actually seeing him. You try not to think about the day where you inevitably have to move in together. 

That is all you think about on the walk over; hair now done and dressed all pretty the way you know James likes. You are noticeably fidgeting; the man grabs your hand in an attempt to comfort your nerves. "I have no idea why you look so nervous.... I thought you would be excited" He half mumbles that last part but you catch it.

"Why would I be excited?! All of your friends' wives look down on me like I'm some charity case" You grumble, throwing his hand off of yours. Most of them grew up rich and the others are wasting all of their time pretending they lived the same way. Whenever you are around them you can feel the venom of their glare, jealousy? Envy? You aren't sure what has caused it, but it has always been clear they do not like you.

"I thought you made friends with the Scouts!"

"Who told you that?!" You do not mean to sound so defensive.

"Erwin! What's the big deal?!" He slightly raises his voice, causing the people around you to turn their heads over for a look.

You fall silent, averting his gaze. "Nothing" You sigh.

"If anything, I'm happy you're finally making some friends. Don't have to complain about how lonely you are" He did not mean for it to sound as backhanded as it did. You take offense to the comment and huff, slapping away the hand which tugs at your coat.

Picking up the pace, you find yourself several steps ahead of him, taking a deep breath as your eyes dart around the multiple Soldiers surrounding the area. It seemed like half of the King's entire army had been invited. You find yourself wondering, apprehensive at the thought of the familiar face you wished to see most in the world. And then it appeared.

James had finally caught up with you, not that you noticed the arm snaking around your waist as he prepared to enter the pub. Clearly, you had other plans. He almost trips over his own feet at the resistance of your body as he tries to tug you along. You remain frozen like a statue, head cocked in the complete opposite direction ever since you caught sight of that unruly mocha hair. You almost fail to notice the fact that it is the most genuine smile which crossed your face all day-a familiar warmth spreading throughout your chest.

"YN!" Zoë Hange's voice is a shout from the heavens above, the way it immediately brings you back to life.

"Oh, don't mind me, James I'll catch up with you soon" You do not fail to catch the surprised look on his face, almost judgmental with a raised brow. "What?"

"Hange? You've made friends with Hange?"

You're completely dumbfounded at the reaction. "Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

"Err....she's a little weird, don't you think? Not the kind of company I would expect you to keep"

You gasp at his words, shoving him in the chest perhaps a bit harder than intended. "No! I think they're brilliant!"

James speaks in a condescending tone. "Whatever that means"

You march off with a groan. You can't believe how much of an ass he is being. And about Hange of all people, a person who (in your eyes) has never done a thing wrong in their life. As careless as that thought may be, you know their every waking moment is spent trying to protect the people they care about-the people living behind the walls. You aren't sure you can say the same about James. Hange notices the defeated look on your face, immediately on guard. "What's wrong?" They ask as soon as you are within earshot.

"Come with me"

You drag Zoe away without an explanation, grabbing them by the wrist and completely missing the way they look back at their comrades-a gleeful expression as they give a thumbs-up. They almost want to beg their friends to wish the two of you good luck. Levi and Erwin are completely dumbfounded, although the Commander feels a sense of pride swelling in his chest.

You drag Zoe to the only thing you have that is all yours. The place you disappear off to when times are tough, and you need to feel like the only person left in the World. It always feels that way, that you are alone in the things you try to hide. You have not shared it with another soul. A clearing at the edge of a farm you visit on an almost weekly basis. If you walk all the way out to the edge and hop the fence it gets so quiet the only thing you can hear is the distant mooing of cows and the sound of your own breath. The first time you found this place was when you swore at twelve years old that you were running away. After your father caught you kissing a girl from across the street.

You laugh at the memory; you thought your life was over. That you should just curl up into a ball and die. The reality of it was that you returned home the next morning and the two of you never mentioned it again. You also never dared to indulge in that urge ever again.

"You planning to murder me out here?" Zoë finally speaks, easing the tension. Your body relaxes, slumping back against the fence you insist they climb over to get the whole experience. It's not worth stargazing through gaps of wood.

"You've caught on to my plan" You joke, leaning forward in an attempt to be menacing. As if Hange could ever fear you. "Although I would be screwing myself over if I murdered my only friend"

"My devilish charm strikes again" They smile, revealing the steel flask Erwin had gifted them before arriving at the pub. He insists they should drink that first, so they do not have to spend as much money on beer, resourceful as ever.

But the two of you have it now and it does not take long for the liquid to come pouring out. Passed between the both of you as you share your deepest regret; ever getting into a relationship with James in the first place. You are not sure when you began talking about him, or how the topic was even brought up in the first place. You are almost certain Zoë did not ask but for some reason you tell them. You admit that it is all just a facade, you are trying to prove something to yourself more than genuinely put an effort into the relationship. By the time you find the right words the flask is empty as the ache in your heart. "I care about him but it just.... doesn't feel right"

Zoë looks at you knowingly, they feel it too. That ache of not knowing what it is your soul is after. The confusion of being told one thing but wanting another. How isolating it can be. You cannot say what it is that you find so captivating about them. Incapable of explaining the heat which fills your entire body as they eat you alive with their gaze. The tantalization which has plagued your entire life sits right in front of you, a direct reflection of everything you want.

Someone soft and pure who understands. Who takes over your mind, body and soul, stimulates your senses. Never has a simple look said so much.

"But things have always been like that. I have never truly connected with anyone" You add on, not so subtly shuffling your body closer. The cool blades of grass tickle at the exposed area of your shin, reminding you of the harsh winter air. You really should have dressed warmer for the occasion. "My whole life has felt like one big question even I don't know the answer to"

Zoë Hange takes the initiative to rest a hand on your thigh, looking into your eyes intently. They want you to understand how deeply they hear you, that they have listened to every word you've said since meeting you. They would wait a million years for this very moment, for the time when all the stars aligned, and it finally felt right. Another hand brings itself up to brush a strand behind your ear and you lean into their touch, fingers softly running down the wrist which supports your head. Moving closer than ever, Hange takes a deep breath in-resting their forehead atop yours. "I hear you YN. I can't tell you the numbers of nights I lay awake wondering what made me the way I am"

The moment is so tender and sincere you could cry. Moving your face closer to theirs, you nudge your nose against theirs so slow and deliberate it could come off as if you were doing it on purpose. Truth is, every movement is involuntary, like something had taken over and wants to devour every second spent like this.

Take your time. Make it last.

It is all you can think for fear that it may not ever happen again.

Zoë cannot hold out any longer, crashing their lips against yours in a hungry fury. They've dreamt about the way your lips taste, but it was not nearly as good as the real thing. No, this is perfect. So much more than they can imagine. Small whines and sound of lips smacking beneath the twinkling stars. Two bodies of forbidden lovers moving in sync, gnawing and clawing at each other so needy there is no room to breathe. Zoë does not allow you to catch your breath-they can be your source of oxygen, swallowing every huff you attempt to let out. They cannot let you go; you may never come back.

They grip at your hips and thighs, squeezing a particular spot that makes you squeal. "Hange!" Your laugh is again, swallowed by their mouth.

They groan, biting your lip because they now know they would much rather hear you moan their name than simply just say it. You allow them to pull you into their lap. You encourage their hands to roam as they please, granting Zoë access to every inch of your body.

And then you pull at the disheveled brown mop atop their head, causing the sexiest most pathetic whimper you've ever heard leave Hange's lips. You whisper their name, tugging again before rolling your tongue against Zoë's.

They do not need to be convinced before ravishing you with love bites, not caring what might be left of you when they finish. If anything, that makes it better, they hope your stupid boyfriend sees it.

Rocking you in their lap, the two of you continue to kiss until your lips feel swollen and tingly. Until both of your hairs are knotted messes from all the tugging and the necklines of both of your tops are extremely disheveled. "Oh Zoë" You whine into their lips, kisses growing softer but still full of need and desire. "You have no idea how bad I wanted this" You suck at their bottom lip selfishly. You cannot get enough.

"Me too YN" They gasp when you nibble a bit at their earlobe, it sends jolts of electricity down their body. "I nearly prayed for a chance to feel your body against mine"

Never has a kiss been so satisfying, been able to feed the craving which ate at you for years. It feels like it could be enough to power you through another month of the dull cycle that is your life. "I've been so selfish..." You pout, redoing the buttons you had frantically pulled apart moments before.

You kiss their jaw, then their neck, and collarbone. "Please, I have done more than enough talking" You peck their lips again before taking their face into your hands adoringly. "I'd like to know everything about you"

When you get home hours later, swollen lips and covered in marks your boyfriend does not notice. You find him passed out in the couch of your living room; half dressed. It seems he walked home drunk and gave up before making it into the bedroom, which was only a few steps away. You almost feel guilty for the contempt that fills you as you watch him sleep, almost disgusted with the way he's presented himself.

You hate him. You hate all men.

Maybe not all, most would be fair to say. They fill you with rage and disgust. They make you want to throw up.

They make you want to cry. You cry as you stare at the man whom you are supposed to love but suddenly feel nothing for. The one you are done trying to convince yourself that you like. He does not please you, or satisfy you, or even support you.

He is just there. Taking up space. And worst of all, you let him. The man you have known for years is suddenly a stranger in your house, your space which you have so carefully built. Not even your home is safe from the wrath of man.

You cry until it feels like you might pass out, the weight of it all finally kicking in. That you have to make a decision one day. The decision to please your family and do what is expected of you.

Or the decision to be free.

⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓

Hange remains the only harbinger of peace in your life. The next time the two of you see each other it is much different than the others. Usually, they would come bright and early, spend the whole day with you and return once the Sun goes down. But this time they arrive an hour before you close-a surprise to you seeing as you expected them to not even show up once the clock passed ten thirty. You figured they must be busy. But they arrive with a smile bigger than ever, if that was possible.

And instead of your usual friendly greeting they take a look around, ensuring there are no customers in sight before stepping forward and enveloping you in a hug that makes you forget all about the struggles of your everyday life. In Zoë's arms you feel so safe and protected, you feel like yourself. And then they kiss you, firm and excitedly. Almost messy with the movements of your lips, so much so that you giggle against them.

"Was that okay?" They ask for fear that they may be coming on too strong. Perhaps that kiss in the field was supposed to be a one-time thing.

Instead, you flash your pearly whites, eyes glazed over with something that is not lust. Much stronger than want or need. You pull them by the collar of their shirt and kiss them again, wrapping your arms around their neck as you stand on your tiptoes to reach more of them. "What a silly question" You tease, lips pulled apart but still fully embracing each other. "I fear that I've thought about your lips more than anything else this past week"

"Fine by me" Zoë insists before another peck of their lips. But they are fidgety, shifting with your body in their arms as their eyes dart all around.

"What is it?" You whisper, bringing their gaze back to you with a finger on their chin as you become suddenly aware that it is growing dark out. "And what brings you here so late?"

"I was hoping..." Zoë starts, pausing lightly to look down at their feet. The fear of being too forward is stuck in their head. The last thing they need to do is scare you off the way they have done to everyone their whole life.

"That it would be okay if I accompany you back to your house today?"

You are the first person who has looked at them without an ounce of doubt. Hange realizes that as the corner of your lips tug up into a smile. What a wonderful feeling that is, to be accepted completely. "Of course you can"

From then on, Hange's visits take place at your house rather than the bakery. You talk and eat dinner together; on occasion they will bring a fancy wine courtesy of some random civilian who wanted to thank the Section Commander for all their hard work. Being a Scout has its perks sometimes.

It is one of the only benefits. Zoë is suddenly aware of how much free time they fail to have. Time that could be spent with you. But they manage, waiting weeks for the opportunity to simply enjoy your presence. Sometimes you talk each other's ears off. No single topic in mind, just mindless rambling about anything you think of. Others are more quiet, spent in each other's arms comfortably. And neither of you dare speak of what this all could mean for your relationship.

The only thing which confounds Zoë is why you ever allowed them into your life in the first place. Hange is not great on first impressions, or second, or thirds.

So why did it all come so easy with you? How did the conversation flow so naturally within moments of meeting you? Is this how everyone who's ever fallen in love feels?

So many questions. Especially because Zoë knows better than to let her mind wander on the topic of you. You have a boyfriend and will likely become his wife. This is all temporary. And they would rather not think of the day when they have to move on. Being so secretive makes it exciting, more personal because no one else is aware of whatever you have going on between the two of you. These moments of serenity belong to you and Hange only.

You find yourself in the warmth of their embrace, cuddled over on your side of the bed although there is plenty of empty space. They just need to be touching you, no gap of space to be found. They want to die knowing they have touched every inch of your skin. "YN?"

"Yes, my dear?" You laugh because you have no idea why they are whispering.

My dear. You aren't sure when you started calling Zoë that, but it just rolls off your tongue perfectly. It also makes your lovers ears perk up in excitement each time. "Can I just say I still cannot believe we get to do this...I mean, most people would not take you for a woman lover"

You snort aloud, sitting up in bed. "A woman lover? What are you?! 12?" You ask, slightly offended but a twinge of jest to your tone. Your eyes sparkle in the way you look at them, creases forming at the corners.

"It's just...it all seemed so silly at first. I never thought there was a chance you could actually like me" They mean it truly. They cannot begin to count the number of times they had been pushed away by their peers, being called delusional for ever thinking they could get somewhere in life. "No one likes me"

"I do" You pout. It pains you to hear how low they think of themselves. "I like you very much Zoë. You are brilliant and strong. Sophisticated yet playful. Brave and beautiful. You are everything I enjoy in a person"

Zoë could cry at your words, but they don't. Instead, they hold you tighter with a kiss to your head, you may be the only person alive who has ever admired them in such a way. "I enjoy you more my dearest Schatz. I would do anything for you"

They would even break off that stupid relationship you're in and marry you.

⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓

It has been over a month since the last time you saw Zoë. You have sent many letters but have yet to receive any back. The Scouts left for an expedition, and it is proving to be far lengthier than most. This worries you because no one has heard from them. Or maybe they have, and the rest of the regiment is just keeping it under wraps. You suppose that would make sense. It just could not have happened at a worse time. The shop is slower than usual, weather is growing harsher, and you are certain that James is going to propose soon. And worst of all, your father is sick.

You feel so alone and lost. Especially now that your father has grown ill. You spend most nights helping look after him. Your mother is unwell, clearly not in her right mind to take care of her husband whom she spent decades with. It seems she cannot take the pain of watching her lover deteriorate into a shell of what he once was. But they are lucky to have you. Playing the role of the devoted daughter as well as you always have. They would always brag to their friends about how good of a girl you are.

You give him medicine and feed him, bathe and change him. He seems to even have lost a bit of his mind, constantly making sly comments about how he will die without any grandchildren. You ignore his words each time, but they remain in your head as the days go by.

You feel like a terrible daughter. Like you have failed to do the only thing he has ever asked of you. As if you needed any more pressure to conform. James even visits when he can. A sentiment which you appreciate more than he will ever know.

That was until you overhear a conversation with your father; one your life would be much more peaceful without.

Their words play in your head even later that night as you write Zoë her fifth letter of the month. Maybe you are just crazy-obsessive. Maybe you are using them as a coping mechanism, time with Zoë is your only escape. You end the letter off with a warning, a fat droplet falls from your eye and hits the page. It smears the last few words clean off.

I overheard James asking Father for my hand in marriage.

Zoë is exhausted and ashamed when they finally arrive back home. Everyone blames them for the failure that was their expedition. Many lives lost all for them to nab a stupid titan. One that they ended up having to kill anyways when it broke free of their restraints. One month of their lives wasted. Well not to Zoë, they collected some very valuable data that will be of use for the next time they dare venture out of the walls. Though they will have to wait for the newest batch of cadets to arrive, seeing as The Scouts are coming back home with less soldiers than they left with. No one cares about Zoë's stupid experiments; they just want their friends back.

Erwin pats them on the back, assuring that it was all worth it in the end. The only way out is forward-or something like that. Hange was not really paying attention if she's being honest. Kicking off their boots in the comfort of their own living quarters they come to find a stack of letters from you.

Thinking about how lucky they are to have someone who actually writes to them, Zoë opens the one on top with a smile on their face. This one seems to be the newest, but they cannot be too bothered to read them in order. They just need to hear what you have to say. You bring Zoë comfort.

However, that comfort is completely erased as they take in your words. Each line seems to grow even more abysmal as you go on about all of your misfortune and worries. Zoë's brows furrow as it becomes clear to them that they were gone in the moments you needed them most. All areas of your life have seemed to come crashing down. They begin to grow ill as they read the last line, standing up and clutching their desk so hard the wood begins to splinter beneath their nails.

They put their coat on, still with the letter in hand and march out to the halls. Unaware of where they are even going, they just need to pace. And breathe. They go all the way up to the rooftop-where the harsh winter air sends goosebumps all over their skin. Panting as they hunch over the ledge. For a moment it feels as if they may vomit.

"You don't plan on jumping off, do you?" Erwin's voice snaps them out of it, their body jolts at the sudden sound.

"You scared me" Hange half mumbles.

"My apologies" Erwin nods, taking a few steps closer to Hange who is as pale as the moonlight. He knows exactly why she is out here. "I was looking for you. You weren't in your quarters"

"Needed some fresh air" Zoë almost forgets they are still clutching your letter close to their chest.

"Uh huh" Erwin joins Zoë in leaning against the ledge, looking out into the place they fight so hard every day to protect. It is so peaceful now. You can almost forget that Titans exist in the first place. Almost. "I was catching up on a few things sent in from the MP's....updates and whatnot"

Zoë nods, not entirely sure what he is trying to get at. Well, deep down she probably does know but does not wish to face it. "James Mason has been promoted to one of the King's guards"

Zoë's heart is completely crushed. They want to just double over and fall. But they would never dare look so pathetic in front of anyone, especially their Commander. "What does that have to do with me?"

Erwin sighs, raising an eyebrow as if to ask 'really?'. "We all know he was only waiting to get promoted before asking her to marry him"

Zoë is silent for a while, they consider wishing the two of you luck, but they cannot force the words out of their mouth if they tried. So, they give up, with a sigh that comes from a place deep within their chest. "How did you-"

"Do not take me for a fool" He laughs, attempting to lighten up the mood although it may be impossible. "You spent months obsessing over this woman and all of a sudden you just stop talking about her? I knew something was afoot. Not to mention the way you would disappear entirely on your weekends off"

Hange only nods, it feels like they have been caught red handed.

"So, what happened?"

Zoë groans, bringing a hand over their face as they try to rub the dull ache out of their head. "We were.... together"

"Are you still?"

"I would hope so" She admits. "Or maybe I should not have hope" They look down for a while, staring at their shoes and the cobblestone beneath their feet. They imagine it crumbling and their body goes falling right through it-that would certainly put an end to all the distress. "What do you think Erwin? Should I just leave her be?"

"Do you love her?"

That is the million-dollar question Zoë has been unable to answer. Out of nothing but pure fear. They were secure in their feelings for you, certain of how much they liked you. But Erwin is right, does she love you?

It seems the word leaves her lips before her brain can even process it all. "Yes"

"Well then, you better tell her before it is too late"

Zoë nods again, a ball of nothing but anxiety and pure dread in their chest. "How long ago did you receive the news?"

There's a chance they may be too late already.

"One week since the last letter"

The next morning Hange wastes no time before leaving to your district. Stopping by the bakery first, they are more than concerned to find it closed-on a day they are certain you work. Never have they come to find your shop closed. It makes them fear the worst. They make their way to your apartment next, heart pounding and an unfamiliar ringing in their ears. Their nerves are starting to get the better of them. Zoë might just have to stop on the way and throw up. Clutching their chest, their movements are anything but graceful. Quick and rushed, they lose their footing a few times but keep moving forward. Perhaps they should not have left their horse so far behind.

And the closer Zoë gets to you, the more it feels like they can no longer wait. They are unable to hold it in anymore, maybe they should have brought a ring because if you let her go on long enough, she might just propose on the spot. If that will keep you-they would do anything to be yours.

They are about to start running when they see him-James. James looks tired and worn out. He notices Hange almost immediately. "Zoë! Oh, good thing you've stopped by. She's a mess! Maybe you can go talk to her!"

"Huh?" Hange is puzzled, their eyes dart down to his hand which has no ring. That's a good sign at least.

"Her father passed away three mornings ago. Died in his sleep" He states rather bluntly. "I haven't left her side since. But she's running out of food, I was going to stop and get groceries. Maybe you can talk to her? I know she's grown quite fond of you"

"Oh yeah, of course" Hange snaps out of it for a second. The guilt suddenly hits them as they look James in the eye. He looks concerned, genuinely worried for your wellbeing. He was there when you needed him, she wasn't. How can Zoë come to face him knowing all they have done with the woman who is supposed to be his? Maybe they are a bad a person disguised as someone virtuous. "What horrible news"

"Yes" The man sighs, looking to the ground in thought. "We'll likely have to push the Wedding back"

Hange's body has run cold. And the man only stares, for a moment Zoë can't help but wonder if he knows. If he is only bringing it up to prove a point.

They are clearly taken aback by the revelation. "Did she not tell you yet? I figured her closest friend would be the first to know" His voice has a level of irony to it, maybe even a hint of anger.

His eyes have narrowed, something unexplainable beneath them. But Zoë is going to die on the hill that they have done nothing wrong. "Well, I've been gone on an expedition. Just got back"

"And you immediately run off to her apartment" James arms are now crossed. "For what reason? If you truly had no idea about her father either"

"Zoë!" You gasp from the door of your place, initially stepping out for some fresh air. To be able to breathe.

And breathe you may-now that your dear Zoë is in your arms. You clutch them tight and hope to never let go, eyes wound shut for fear they make threaten to spill even more tears. But they do, your bottom lip begins to wobble as they pat your head. Looking at James, their eye contact lingers for a bit before the man walks off, caught in his own personal war.

Zoë's arms remain wrapped around you. They need to touch you. They grab your hand and bring you inside, where nobody will get the chance to see the two of you. "I'm so sorry"

Their words are nothing but a whisper as they take in the state of your apartment. Boxes surround them, a few things seem to be missing. Your couch most importantly. The one the two of you would cuddle up and take naps on.

And then Zoë sees it. A ring on your fourth finger, on your left hand. You hold it close to your body almost as if you were trying to hide it. But in no world would Hange fail to see that.

"You're engaged"

You scoff. "My father is dead"

"And I send my deepest condolences. Losing a parent is one of the hardest days of anyone's life. I truly hope you can find peace in knowing he is at rest" She sounds genuine, swallowing the lump in her throat to be able to speak. "But please do not avoid the obvious"

You stand a shell of the woman you were before, you try to be strong. To be stoic and put on the same mask you have donned since birth practically. But it is the hardest thing you have ever had to do, to look the love of your life in the face and lie to her. Especially when they are the only person you have ever been able to share your truth with. You must share your pain too, it is an ache that blinds all other senses. The world has turned upside down since even before your father died. "He asked two days before he passed" You begin, voice wavering. "My father died happy knowing I was to be a bride"

"Call it off"

"What?!" You clutch the clothing close to your chest. An unseen force pulls your body down, shoulders slumped and heavy with the weight of all your life's problems. "Y-you know I can't do that"

"Why not?" Zoë asks, completely dumbfounded that you are still going to go through with this. Your father was the main factor in why you could never truly live to be yourself. As morbid as it may sound, he is no longer around to stop you. Hange thought your old self would die with him as well. "Go to school! I will support you and we can married when you graduate. I can provide for you YN"

You take a step back, clearly the two of you are not on the same page. "Zoë....my father would be rolling in his grave if he ever knew I was with another woman. And my mother! God my mother, she might just drop dead too" You bring a hand to your head, pulling at the roots of your hair.

Zoë steps closer, bringing a hand up to your cheek. They brush a piece of hair behind your ear. "Plenty of women do it.." They whisper.

"Some" You shake your head, tears in your eyes. "Not plenty....I don't think I can deal with the stares, or the hushed whispers as we walk by! I'm not brave enough for that-I'm sorry!"

"It's who you are. You see that don't you?"

"Of course I do!" You whisper incredulously. "I fear that love may not be enough to save us from the hardships we could face! I would hate for what we have to be soiled by everyone else! I love you now, can't that be enough?!"

Zoë Hange should have stayed home, they understand that in this moment. They should have spared themselves the heartache of knowing the truth. They are shaking, their neck jerks in unnatural way as they take in your words. They should focus on the fact that you are pushing them far away-pushing their love away. But you love her, that is all Zoë hears. "You love me?"

You have fallen silent, refusing to look her in the eye when she steps forward and grabs you. One arm wraps around your waist, the other fervidly grabs your face-pulling you into a kiss full of passion and sorrow. "You love me" They repeat, practically speaking it back into your mouth. They just need to remind you. "You love me and I love you. I will devote my entire being to you until the end of time if you'd let me"

"Zoë-" Your cries are hushed by their lips. And as bad as you want to accept her into your life, you know you cannot. Your fate had already been decided, long ago. "Hange stop! Don't be so selfish! I am lost right now! I'm in no place to make any kind of decision-" You throw their arms off of you, turning away from their lips.

"You already have!" Zoë yells at you for the first time in their life. "You said yes to him so am I supposed to just let that happen?! You expect me to be okay with this?!"

You start to cry,wiping away one tear at a time. But Zoë is not yet finished. "Marriage is not the only option! You can do whatever you please and I will encourage you! I may not be able to protect you from the judgment of others but I can give you every piece of me that I have to offer"

"Zoë" Your voice is a caustic attempt at speech. The pain comes from a place deep within which has festered for years. You sob like a little girl who has lost her new toy, like a child without a mother. "I can't!"

You are hysterical, face hidden in your hands-full of shame. You aren't sure if you are more ashamed of; being a coward or the fact that you were born this way. You asked for none of this suffering, you crave happiness. "I think you should go"

"So that's it? This is how we are ending things?"

The worst part of it all is that you fail to answer although truth is-you couldn't even if you wanted to. You are far too agitated to even speak. Zoë hugs you tightly-you don't hug them back, you can only cry. Hange kisses your forehead and takes a deep breath in, they will soon forget your scent. What an awful thought.

And they cry too. For the rest of the night, until the early hours of the next morning they cry and mourn the loss of you. They knew it was coming, yet could not have been less prepared. It was too late, they were in far too deep. Your love gave Zoë life, what are they to do without it?

It is a sense of loss they are not familiar with. The loss of something that was never truly there. How do you get over something like that? With no prior experiences to connect this to, no set of rules to play by-Hange finds themself feeling hopeless. They do not enjoy change, it makes them feel itchy and uncertain. It controls her thoughts day and night. Every night they go to sleep hoping that by morning, it will all be over. That she will be over you. The weeks begin to blur by, it feels like it was just yesterday when they last saw you.

Yet at the same time it has felt like years, they remember your touch but soon begin to forget the sound of your voice. It is an off putting feeling they do not imagine themself ever growing accustomed to. The only thing they are certain of is that they will never allow themself to be put in a position to be hurt like this again.

When Erwin gets an invitation to your wedding he tries to hide it but Hange is usually the first person in his office during the mornings. They spot it almost immediately.

And then they feel sick for the rest of the week. They cannot focus on anything. Or think properly. Or eat. Most hours are spent staring blankly ahead. It is so bad that Levi of all people is the one to finally say something.

"Hange, the hell's wrong with you?" Levi questions as his comrade's hands shakily fumble with the ODM gear they were supposed to be fixing. Usually the repair process is quite easy, he has watched them glide through piles of trash and turn it into treasure. But on this particular evening it seems to be taking twice as long.

"Nothing" They insist-voice cold and emotionless.

Levi sighs. There is no one else in the world he would do this for, whom he would press further to delve into their personal problems. He has no idea the amount of times he had to stop members of his squad from doing the same thing. He doesn't care about what the hell anyones has going on outside of work-not one to ever ask a question as simple as 'how are you doing?'. But he will tonight because he cares for his friend although it may be painful to admit. "Any chance this has something to do with the fact that Yn is getting married next week?"

"Oh, is she?" Hange halfheartedly mumbles, simply pretending they cannot hear, the same way they pretend that it does not make them feel sick to be apart from you. "Had no idea" Their vision remains focused on the piece of metal in front of them. They very well may burst into tears should Levi continue to press on the matter.

"Damn it" The man groans. He hates this, he's objectively terrible at conversations like these. But he will do it for Zoë. "You can tell me, you know? I mean I was there when it was all just a stupid delusion-I doubted you for a long time. You know that but in the end you were right-the two of you have something special".

"Had"

"Huh?"

"We had something special. Then James got promoted and her father died, and I was gone, and I never even got the chance to hold her one last time-to love her once more. I came back from a month long expedition just to say goodbye" Hange has finally given up on fixing the gear, now resting back on the cold floor as their brain scrambles for ways to make Levi understand. "I will never be fortunate enough to get the closure I need"

"Closure is for dumbasses" Hange scoffs at the man's words. "It's not real, you have to accept what happened no matter what. If you guys had a conversation today would things still remain the same?"

"Yes" Zoë sighs. And that is the end of the conversation, they do not have it in them to argue. Especially on the topic of you which has been exhausted already. Months have been dedicated to you. Hours of pining and reminiscing on every little thing Hange can remember about you. How it gets harder each day to recall those glimpses of ataraxia the two of you shared.

Those days are over, Hange needs to accept it. They sigh, throwing their head into their hands the night grows into morning. Perhaps they just need some rest, maybe a few days off to collect themself. Rather than throw themself into work in an attempt to forget. Before he leaves, Levi is sure to pat Zoë's shoulder.

"You'll be all right Hange. You deserve better"

Maybe they do deserve better than you. They deserve someone whose love will never be a question, who can be honest in their emotion. It gives her a bit of hope, makes it easier to move through the day. That this is not the end all, be all. There is so much more life to live. It was starting to grow pathetic, really. They must face another day, there are still titans to study after all-more expeditions to be sought out.

Love is the last thing which should consume their mind.

The day after you were supposed to be wed is like any other for Hange. They almost forgot that the wedding was supposed to take place this week. It is hard to ignore that thought completely but they try their hardest.

Although that would soon become impossible seeing that you are marching up the stairs of the Scout Regiment Headquarters. Despite multiple protests for you to turn back around. Especially from Levi-who tried to physically stop you.

"They don't wish to see you" He claims, arms crossed as you are brave enough to push Humanity's strongest square in the chest.

You curse at him. "I didn't ask you, shorty!"

He follows you up the stairs, insults escape his lips when he can think them up. You have no idea what you are doing or where you are, calling out Hange's name at each floor as Levi scolds you.

You are surprised he didn't grab you and throw you back down the stairs. You should be grateful, really.

"Don't you have a husband to nag?" Levi scoffs.

"Don't you?!" You spit back and for a moment he looks genuinely offended. "And no! I do not, thank you very much! I didn't go through with it!"

You begin to run, knowing Zoë has mentioned something about being on the top floors. When you feel like you have gone far enough you walk down a hall which you have no clue will lead you to. It just feels right, something inside tells you Zoë is near. Grabbing a young scout who seems to be on cleaning duty, you scream at them.

"Where is Zoë Hange?!"

They point a terrified shaky finger towards the door at the end of the hall. One that leads directly into Zoë's office. You stumble in without a second thought as to what you would say when you arrive. The idea came this morning to pay a visit to Zoë and you just went with it. The need to see her seemed to override anything else.

Zoë looks up from the papers they were previously filling out, mouth agape to meet the sight of you. The only thing which has, in a word-terrorized their mind for months. "Yn what are you doing here?"

You are gasping, clutching your chest as the many flights of stairs is getting to you. Perhaps the adrenaline of showing up unannounced on the person you love the most was wearing off.

"Zoë" You sigh with the heartache of someone wounded. Someone who is dying. "Oh, my Zoë"

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[drdemonprince]

Hey, I just wanted to thank you for your honesty and willingness to explain how queer spaces can be a lot less transphobic than discourse within the trans community can make it seem. A lot of the past few years for me have been spent closeted out of fear that reactions around me would be uniformly hostile. Things are obviously going to be different for me as a transfem, but I have a much easier time being optimistic now!

I am so glad! Listen, the people who post online all the time about how miserably hard it is to find a place for oneself as a trans person create a kind of reverse survivorship bias. They are the people who have already convinced themselves it's best to forever remain closeted or that forging any kind of accepting community for oneself is impossible. Often, they are also people who once harbored unrealistic fantasies about just strolling up one day into a pre-existing community that was perfect for them, not realizing that we must form our relationships painstakingly one by one (it tends to be the white eggs/unhappy lonely trans people who are most prone to thinking of community in that way). there's plenty of trans guys who are doomers like this too and they really tend to actively encourage one another to remain locked away. it's like incel kind of behavior when it's taken to its most extreme form. sometimes, it can be outwardly really nasty homophobic shit too (especially among "afabs" who complain about "cis gays" never accepting them and being super privileged). in its milder form, it's just extreme trauma brain.

The people you do not hear from so much are the people who are busy out in the world going on dates, acting in plays, getting their asses spanked in dungeons, playing tabletop roleplaying games, and going to farmer's markets with their three also transgender wives. Those are the people who know (that is to say, have learned!) how to interact with their fellow queer people, have spent some time out in the community, and in all likelihood have many rich friendships with cis lesbians, cis gay men, enbies, asexuals, bisexuals, straight ish poly people, and everybody else under our big umbrella.

I don't want to be overly pollyannaish because of course trans people have a tough time, and especially trans women have unfortunately to be on the lookout for really vile transmisogyny. But I think when people are wounded and traumatized by these things, they sometimes make the entire world sound incredibly unwelcoming, which creates a self-limiting feedback loop of isolation and mistrust. That is what trauma does! But it is not the truth. and we only learn otherwise when we give other people the chance to prove our worst fears wrong.

Like, just for an example, this Sunday I was at a silent book club at Dorothy, a gay bar on the west side that skews lesbian but is for everyone. I'd never been there before but it was an absolutely charming experience! Dozens upon dozens of lesbians draped over couches and curled up in chairs with their books, quaffing cocktails, alongside a few random dots of gay and/or trans men. Trans women were just a natural completely unremarkable feature of this environment. I couldn't even tell you how many t girls were there. It would be like counting plus sized girls or butches at this lesbian function. If it's a good lesbian function, there's gonna be a diverse crowd and it won't be weird or a big deal to anyone, they'll just be like any other women there. a lot of the big lesbian events here in Chicago (like Strapped) are organized by trans women, so of course there's a robust trans femme presence there.

And all of these groups at this function were getting laid. the couches were overflowing with women, so many that girls were grabbing pillows to sit on and huddle together with their books on the floor. Girls canoodled and cuddled on couches. I saw a cis alt girl covered in facial piercings flirting with a very prim and proper trans girl who was dressed like a victorian governness. they didnt know one another, but after the silent book club hour was done, they left for a while together, then came back with some food. across from me and my friends, i watched them gathering up on the couch, the space between their bodies slowly closing up into nothing over the course of the evening. they flirted and touched and then left the bar together to (and im no expert on body language but i could pick up on this one) fuck eachothers tits right off.

and of course plenty of other lesbians and wlw paired off or tripled off and had their fun too. again, just like steamworks, fat people, thin people, black and brown people, white people, disabled people, neurodivergent people, trans people, older people, younger people, everybody was there. like any good queer space, it was just a reflection of humanity. there is always more that can be done to make these spaces more broadly accessible to full community. but part of that is by putting ourselves there.

again i dont mean to make it sound like finding and making one's space is easy! especially not for trans women! but I also don't want people to get seduced by the hopeless jadedness that some foment online. there are spaces that some trans women I know will never go to -- even an explicitly trans affirming bookstore like Women and Children First gives many trans women I know bad vibes they cant quite explain but all feel (the store is owned and run by old white cis lesbians, it's not surprising to me that it's a little fucked no matter their good intentions) -- and ive heard people say transmisogynistic stuff at events, particularly from "ill date anybody but cis men" type t boys (my brothers, i hate you). shit can be tough. very tough. but also, the world isn't all uniformly as hostile as it's made out to be. there are people who are desperate to meet you. I hope you will come out to find them.

[bored-trans-orchidsexual]

Hiruko Shizuhara Mechanical Musings

Ah, Hiruko... No doubt on almost everyone's top 3 characters. And why wouldn't she be? She's a beautiful, serious woman with the strength and confidence to get shit done. Openly bisexual, Domme vibes, able to effortlessly switch tone and vibe to match unexpected scenarios... And girl's got seeeeecrets. I'm almost 50 endings in and have so many questions about what she knows, and what she's capable of. Add her carnal enjoyment for dismemberment and carnage to all that, and you have an intimidatingly interesting character with a side of "step on me queen" energy.

Such an iconic character requires an equally iconic design, and Rui Komatsuzaki doesn't disappoint. Despite being 17-18 years old, her sharp, serious expressions and the professional way she dresses marks her as significantly more mature. The hip, sleek suit look with the long, flowing skirt suggest a no-nonsense woman with no time for your shit, while the leather jacket and the v-cut on the skirt hint at her more brutal, sexual undertones.

Unsurprisingly, Hiruko's role in combat is as straightforward and frighteningly beautiful as she is; she is an aggressive damage dealer to a small area.

Her specialist skill, Special Discipline, is downright addicting to use. For each kill she gets, she gains an additional +1 damage for each of her skills for the rest of the turn. While this only stacks up to +3, this makes her attacks even more deadly, making her great for taking out tougher foes.

Hiruko's first skill, "Cranial Fracture", deals high damage to a single target immediately in front of her. Thanks to her higher experience compared to the rest of the cast, this skill is actually fully upgraded from the begining, so I'm unsure it's original value, but it's 5 damage as a result, up to 8 with her specialist skill before any other buffs.

Her second skill, "Internal Laceration", deals light damage to three spaces right in front of her horizontally. While this deals lower damage than her other attacks, not only does it allow for her to quickly build up her specialist skill, but while it's capped even this attack can take out middle-tier foes.

Her final skill, "Life-or-death Shot", deals high damage to two spaces forward directly in front of her, while restoring 1 HP for Hiruko herself. While not as strong as cranial fracture, it does hit two spaces and heal herself, so often this is the better skill to use.

Her Special Skill, "Cruel Death's Lament", deals massive damage in a crater formation around Hiruko herself, creating spikes of blood energy and of course increased by her buffs, if you create a path for her into a mass of foes she can take out the threats on an entire side by herself.

Hiruko's kit doesn't excel on every setup, but she's definitely on the more reliable side of the spectrum. She basically only hits targets immediately in front of her, but what she lacks in range she more than makes up for in raw damage. Her attacks are often overkill, but when she can face up to high hp enemies or bosses, she really shines. Most other characters need last yell stacks and several buffs to hit like she can with base numbers and specialist skill alone. Her kit is especially fun on exploration battles, not as reliable as Takumi but she can make mincemeat of most bigger foes in a single turn. She can even heal herself a little as she attacks, one of the few characters in the game that can.

In the end, it's hard not to love what Hiruko brings to the table. Where a lot of this game is about attack spreads and hitting as many targets as possible, Hiruko is refreshingly straightforward, literally. Just move her in front of the enemies and kill, kill, kill. Racking up bonuses and mauling tough foes and bosses with her addictingly fun lines in battle like "I can hardly contain myself" it's easy to catch her infectious joy in evisceration and slaughter.

But what do you think about Hiruko? Do you like using her in battle, or are you more about wide attack spreads? How does she fit in to your defence strategies?

[goodnightbirdy]

firmly in the drunk category, reactions to top gun maverick

NEW PALNE PORN, arguably more shameless than last time

aww mavericks shrine to his dead best friend (taht one post thats like "super gay to have a daed best frien dlike what are you gonnna do? let it motivate and defin you?')

anybody ever call out the similarities between the top gun theme and the spirit theme? i see you hans zimmer. i see you for what you truly are

hondo whyd you even bring up mach 10.2, you knew he was going to do it

the lights in mavericks helmet seem super u nhelpful. like i would be Fucking blind with leds all in my face like that

if were trying to go the fasttest ever why did we do a massive semi circle, i feel turning would not be helfpul towards this particular goal

hes like supe rfckung dead but lets all just ignore that. IMORTAL BISEXUAL PILOT!!

lkittle boy eating ceral in a diner, icon

iceman saving the fuckung day, "shit gitta save my husbands career again"

Checov's f14

john hamm plays a stuck up dick so well

wait on the climb out of the canyon why do the sams on the short side of the mountain not shoot them down literallly immediatey? Pplot armor at its fineist

"the kids not ready" excuse me while i cry

oh my god its chekovs penny benjimin

PHEONIX. MY WIFE> oh my god shes so hot

the way jake just takes the pole from bob.

god so much of roosters dialouge is so fucking cheesy

yep throw the guy who just got in a mach 10 plane crash and shpuld fs be dead out on the ground (that fucking car alarm is still going off)

OH THE FLASHBACKS. tears.

what a downgrade, where did their couch/lounge/smoke filled room go

jake you need sunglasses to hide your identity, everybody knows that

tom cruise is so itty bitty, 3 apple tall

talking to yourself like a fucking loser. EVERYONE CAN HEAR YOUR ASS ON COMMS

oh my god pheonix is so hot. holy shit

every bit of dialouge during the stupid spiral thing is so fucking cheesy it hurts

oh this is devastating i legit dont care about penny

her hair looks way too nice for just riding a motorcycle no hair tye

mav really lokss three apples talll int his scene

"i need to see you" GAY. im just calling it like it is, that is not a hetro thinf to say to 'your wingmsn"

all of this is incredibly quuer

"its time to let go" OH THE PARALELLES ARE PARALLELING

oh im gonnna actually cry

THAT FCUKINGG PHOTOO

jeans on the beach part 2

agan this man got in a mach 10 plane cash liek a week ago

thank god for onerepublic, creating THE summer song

skipping this penny scene bc i genuinely font fivking care

this movie is so long

most intense 3 minutes of the whole fucking movie holy shit

god MAV CANOT CATCH A BREAK.

oh tears. im gonna legit cryTHE WINGD. kill me and thats where i called it quits apparently lol, i fell asleep but enjoy this, gonna go finish the movie now in the sober light of day

[sam-is-my-safe-word]

Demon Dreams

Demon!Dean Winchester x Jensen Ackles

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Non- AU, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Season/Series 10, Character Bleed, Jensen Is Not Okay, Jared is Jared, Jared Is Worried About Jensen, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Dean Is An Asshole, Emotional Manipulation, Identity Crisis, Possession, Sort of? - Freeform, Wet Dreams, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Strangulation, Exorcisms, Sexorcism If You Will,

Word Count: 3,201

Summary: Jensen is no stranger to character bleed. But it's not meant to take over your life like this, right?

Notes:

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "you fed my demons" "you created mine" square.

Okay, this is the most fictional thing I've ever written lol. This is an utterly fictional Jensen set in an AU with no wives or children. I am not implying for one single second that anything in this fic actually occured. Nor am I implying Jensen is gay or bisexual. Please don't sue me lol. Also, first time writing RPF/RPS. Still feel some kinda way about it. Be gentle with me (even though I am not gentle with you, my dear readers)

Endless thanks to my beta @runawaydr3amerao3 for all her help in making this so much better than I could have & for her comma wrangling <3 Endless thanks also to @talltalesandbedtimestories for getting me involved in this whole bingo thing & cheering me on <3

Jensen is no stranger to character bleed. It’s happened before. Some characters are just too heavy. 

It’s happened with Dean a few times. Hard scenes that invade his dreams for days afterwards. Character arcs that refuse to leave when he sheds Dean to put Jensen back on and leave him snapping at everyone. 

This is different, though. This is like the character has taken on a life of its own in his head. 

Jensen is no stranger to sex dreams either. He’s a healthy guy in his mid-thirties with no long-term partner and a job that takes up almost all his life. 

Jerking off at 3am because he woke up hard from a dream of some faceless someone riding him like a mechanical bull, and his alarm is going to go off in just over an hour and he’d really like to sleep a little more and sleep won’t happen until he deals with his cock, is just another part of life. 

This is different as well. This isn’t a faceless stranger. He knows the person haunting his dreams. 

Intimately. 

Jensen has dreamed about Dean lots of times. He’s an old friend. 

This is not his Dean. 

~~~

Demon Dean was a challenge. He started out fun to play, a nice mix-up. A chance for extended scenes with Mark, to let out Dean’s inner asshole. A sex scene - awkward - and a fight scene - awesome. The black contacts weren’t fun but overall it was a good time. 

Up until filming the third episode, when he had to act against Jared again, and suddenly Demon Dean wasn’t fun anymore. Then it was hard. Then it was fighting against every acting instinct that came with ten years of Dean, ten years with Jared. 

Not Dean, Sam’s brother anymore; Demon Dean, Sam’s enemy. It was a hard headspace to get into. Chasing Jared around the bunker with a hammer was brutal. He couldn’t even truly lose himself in the character because he still had to direct everyone else. 

Then it was over. Just three episodes and he was free to lose the murder shirt and style his hair properly again. 

And he’s proud of his work. Especially ‘Soul Survivor’. It’s always a challenge to balance actor and director, but he’s thrilled with how it turned out. He made Demon Dean a true threat to Sam, and as long as he doesn’t examine that too closely, it’s okay. 

But it’s been a couple of weeks since they finished ‘Soul Survivor’, and Jensen is still waking up sweating after dreams about black eyes and the words ‘do it’ ringing in his ears. 

~~~

Look, Jensen is a perfectly sane guy. He has a great handle on his mental health, knows the signs of when he needs to reach out. Hell, after ten years of helping Jared, Jensen would say he probably knows more about mental health than most people who don’t actually suffer with mental health problems. 

So while he knows that his dreams of weapons, black eyes and the thrill of the chase are just character bleed, he also knows that he needs to be aware in case they develop into something serious. 

But nothing he knows tells him what to do when he starts to look forward to his dark dreams. 

Jared might be able to help, though. 

So a few days later, when he wakes up hard and aching after dreaming about Demon Dean fucking his throat raw - all while holding a knife to it - after he’s taken care of the problem, he texts Jared - once he’s washed his hands, of course. 

It’s still early, but Jared gets up hours before he needs to, to work out and walk his dogs and generally become a person. A far cry from Jensen, who falls out of bed after four snoozes of his alarm and downs coffee until his eyes open. 

Jensen: You up?

Jared: Yeah, lol. Why are YOU up?

Jensen: Can’t sleep. Can I ask you something? 

There’s a pause and Jensen thinks maybe Jared’s sitting down or something. No one asks to talk at 3:30am. He isn’t expecting the phone to ring in his hand. 

“‘Lo.” 

“You okay? Not like you to be up at this time, never mind asking if you can ask me something.” 

This is exactly what Jensen didn’t want. Now he has to try and explain himself with words instead of text. 

“I’m okay. Just… Do you even dream about Sam?” 

Jared lets out a small laugh; Jensen can hear the relief. 

“All the time, man. All the fucking time. You don’t dream about Dean?” 

“Yeah, I do. I mean… like, weird dreams about Sam?” 

Jared hums. 

“I had a recurring dream that he kept showing up to my high school graduation and glaring at me. Like I was an asshole for finishing school, y’know.” 

Jared chuckles.

“Or when I’ve gone a little too hard on the candy and there’s Sam, staring at me from across a table with a pile of salad in front of him. Like, okay, dude. You’re a health nut, I’m not. That kind of weird?”

God help Jensen, Jared is going to make him spell it out. 

“Not exactly…” 

Jared must hear something in his voice because he starts to laugh, far too loudly for the time of day. 

“Ohhhh… that kind of weird. Jackles, you pervert, you.” 

This was a terrible idea, why did he even message Jared? He’ll never live this down now.

“No, not like- I mean, that kind of weird but not… Stop fucking laughing, Jared.” 

Jared has gone from laughing to belly laughing; Jensen can hear him fighting for breath. 

“I’m sorry...”

“You’re not.” 

“No, I’m not. This is too funny. Hollywood hot-shot Jensen Ackles all in knots at 3am because he had a wet dream-” 

“I fucking DID NOT!” 

He did, though, night after night. 

“Why are you blushing then?” 

“I’m no-” 

Damnit, he is. He can feel his cheeks heating up. 

“It wasn’t a wet fucking dream, Jared. I’m not thirteen, for chrissakes. It was just a weird dream and it kinda freaked me out.” 

“A weird sex dream, you mean.” 

“Yes.” 

Jared is still laughing but it’s starting to die down now. 

“Okay, calm down. Yes, I dream about Sam. Yes, sometimes they’re weird. Yes, sometimes they’re sex-dreams-weird. Hell, I dream about fucking Sam more than I dream about fucking anyone else.” 

Jared sounds perfectly at peace with this revelation, and if it was regular Dean that Jensen was dreaming about, he might get it. 

“I mean, it’s either dream about fucking Sam or dream about fucking you . I’ll take Sam any day.” 

Jared starts fake gagging and Jensen is over this entire conversation. 

“Okay, good talk. Thanks, Jared. I’ll see you in a little while. Let’s just forget this ever happened.” 

“Wait. You know I’m only messin’ with you. You can talk-” 

*Click*

Well, that was a waste of time. Jared sounded sincere at the end, but Jensen is too embarrassed to even try to talk now. Hopefully by the time he has to face Jared in the car, Jared will have found something else to talk about. 

~~~

Jared was smart enough not to bring up the early morning phone call, and after a brief hug and a nod, they were all good. 

Demon Dean, though? He’s dining out on the call, milking Jensen’s embarrassment for all it’s worth. 

It’s a special kind of humiliation when someone is three fingers deep in your ass and you’re moaning like a whore, and they bring up an awkward 3am call you had with your best friend a few days ago. 

“So you think this is weird, huh?” 

Jensen never doubted Dean’s swagger was well earned, but Demon Dean turns it up to eleven. Jensen hasn’t come this hard since he was a teen, and it’s part of the reason he looks forward to these damn dreams, even though they freak him the fuck out. 

“‘Cause you sure seem to like it.” 

Demon Dean twists his fingers and Jensen howls.  

“You like being here, at my mercy. You like when it hurts, when you’re scared. When I take it.” 

Jensen’s hips buck. God, he’s so close. 

“This is where you should be. That pretty face needs to be sucking cock or face down in the sheets.” 

Jensen isn’t eighteen anymore, he’s not new to the scene and insecure about himself. He knows he’s a good actor, a good director, a fucking professional. But something about Demon Dean cuts through all that and suddenly he’s a kid again, doubting everything. It makes him even harder. The pitch black eyes and the waves of menace rolling off Demon Dean make Jensen legitimately scared of him, even though he knows it’s just a dream. 

“Does it feel weird , Jensen?” 

Jensen can only moan in response. It’s so fucking good. 

“Answer me!” 

There’s the cold and heavy weight of a hammer pressing into his Adam's apple, and when Jensen opens his eyes, Demon Dean’s own ice black is all he can see. 

“N…no.” 

He’s rewarded for his answer by a hard thrust in and upwards. He’s right there, he can taste it. 

“N…no.” 

Demon Dean mocks him. 

“No, it doesn’t look like it, either. Looks like you’re having a blast. Cunt so tight around my fingers. Looks like you’re right where you should be.”

Jensen can’t breathe. 

“Say it. Say you feel right here, cunt stuffed full of me.” 

“I…”

“Say it, Jensen. Or I’ll stop.” 

“Fuck. Fuck… I feel right.” 

“That’s it. This is what you’re good for, isn't it? Just a pretty boy to get fucked.” 

“Ju-just a pretty boy to get fucked. Fucking… please!” 

Demon Dean smiles coldly. 

Jensen wakes with a groan, hips still thrusting into the mattress as he soaks the sheets.

More laundry. He should buy more sheet sets. 

~~~

Jared pulls Jensen aside a couple of weeks after the call. They’re out with some cast and crew from that week's episode, just relaxing, having some drinks and blowing off steam after a difficult shoot. 

Jensen really doesn’t want to be there, doesn’t want to be anywhere, really. But he couldn’t refuse, not without prompting more questions. So he paints on a smile, sticks to beer and tries to let the conversations happen around him without getting involved. 

Jared must notice his discomfort and grabs him on a trip to the bathroom. 

“You alright, dude?” 

Jensen sighs internally. He doesn’t want to do this. 

“I’m fine, just tired, y’know.” 

Jared cocks his head a little; looks at Jensen too closely. 

“You wanna get out of here? I’ll split an Uber with you?” 

God yes. But then it will be questions on Monday and he can’t with that. 

“No, I’m good. Besides, you’re having a good time. You don’t gotta leave on account of my old ass.” 

Another head tilt, Jared really can be a puppy at times. Normally, Jensen adores this caring side of his friend. But he’d give anything to have that focus aimed away from him right now. 

“Jen…” 

“I’m fine! Okay. I’m fucking tired, it’s been a long week. Let’s just… get another drink or something. Okay?” 

Jensen didn’t mean for Dean to come out of his mouth then. It happens, but not usually in temper like that. Jared holds his hands up in surrender and lets Jensen walk past him, back to their group. 

~~~

He’s on his knees, Demon Dean’s cock buried in his throat. It hurts, he can’t breathe, but it feels so good. 

“Fuck, that’s it. Choke on it. Gonna get that throat all fucked out.” 

Jensen moans and digs his fingers into Demon Dean’s hips. 

“Gotta help you find Dean’s voice somehow. Know you’ve been having trouble with that.” 

Demon Dean runs a hand through his hair as he says it and Jensen forgets to be offended.

“That’s it. That’s it. Pretty mouth on my cock. Just like it should be.”

~~~

Something isn’t right with Jensen. Everyone can see it. He’s just not present anymore. Not totally at least. He gives it his best on set, but he just can’t seem to find the right headspace anymore. Scenes that he would knock out in two takes, max., are taking six/seven/eight now. 

Jared is beside himself with worry. 

“Jensen, please. If you won’t talk to me, talk to someone, anyone. Please!”

“I’m fine, Jay.” 

Weary smile. Tired eyes. 

“Jensen. Is this about those dreams you were having?” 

“No! Of course not. Anyway, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Jen…” 

“Night, Jared.” 

~~~

“I should just keep you here, Jensen. In your mind with me, all the time. Think how good it would be, nothing to worry about. Just pleasing me.” 

“Please…” 

“So fuckin’ pretty. Made to be laid out on silk sheets and just fucked . Over and over and over. This is where you should be.” 

“Fuck…” 

“Too much pressure out there. Acting, directing, managing your life. Wouldn’t you rather stay here, just us?” 

“Yes. Fuck yes. With you.” 

~~~

It comes to a head during the filming of ‘The Executioner’s Song’. An absolutely pivotal moment for Dean, and Jensen just cannot get his head in the game. Everyone is frustrated, including Jensen. 

But as always, it’s Jared that breaks the spell in the end. 

“C’mon, dude. Get it together. I’m sick of redoing this scene.” 

It’s said with humour, but Jensen can hear the tension and frustration underneath. 

The words spill out of him, without thought.

“I think I’m gonna quit…” 

Jared just looks at him, slack-jawed. There’s silence for a minute. Thankfully they’re in a quiet corner of the set while the crew resets the equipment… again. 

“What?” 

It’s said so softly, Jensen almost doesn’t hear it. 

“I think… I’m not cut out for this. I should quit. This isn’t what I should be doing.”

Jensen says it calmly, as if he’s pondering what to have for lunch. But when he looks at Jared again, he’s floored by what he sees.

Jared is crying. His eyes are full of tears, one is tracing its way down his cheek. He’s clenching his jaw, but Jensen can see the wobble. Jensen is reminded of filming ‘All Hell Breaks Loose Part II’, wiping away the stray tear that fell as Dean mourned Sam. 

It’s like the fog lifts from Jensen’s eyes. He realises what he just said. 

“Jared…” 

He reaches out to touch his friend, but Jared turns and walks away without a word. 

Jensen just watches, unable to move, as Jared goes to the crew and tells them he needs to go home. The director tries to beg Jared to stay, saying they’re already so behind schedule - a glance in Jensen’s direction at that. Jared is unmoved, though. Jensen hears him say that even if ‘he’ - meaning Jensen again, of course - can get it together, they won’t get anything usable from him today, and he’ll be back on set bright and early tomorrow to get it done. 

Shame, hot and sick, fills Jensen. What has he done… 

Jared has already left by the time Jensen gets his things together. The car that usually drives them both to and from set is waiting for him, though. Jared had said he was going to make his own way home. No one wanted to argue. 

The ride home for Jensen is smothered in thick silence. Not even a goodbye is exchanged with the driver when they pull up outside Jensen’s apartment building. 

What has he done…

What has he let himself become? 

He spends the evening drinking bourbon from the bottle and stopping himself from calling Jared. Even with the early finish, it’s still late - by normal standards - and he’s tired from the day. The bourbon speeds the process along and it’s not long before his head is hitting the pillow. 

Jensen is well into the dream before he realises this is one. It’s almost like lucid dreaming, these nightly visits with Demon Dean. But he’s never tried to control them, just takes what Demon Dean gives to him. 

Tonight, though, tonight he sees through the veil. So to speak. 

Demon Dean is above him, watching him with those blank, black eyes and that cold smile, distorted by the grimace of effort he’s putting into fucking Jensen as hard as he can. He’s got two fingers buried in Jensen’s mouth at the same time and he’s spouting the usual shit, but this time, Jensen knows it’s shit. 

“God, wish I could fuck your mouth and cunt at the same time. Both so fucking tight and pretty.” 

He thrusts deeply and Jensen groans around the fingers before spitting them out in disgust. Demon Dean doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Fuckin’ perfect here, right where you’re meant to be, getting this tight hole fucked sloppy. Just what you’re good for.” 

Jensen snaps, or breaks free. He’s not sure. 

With a roar of anger, he bucks his hips upwards, uses the momentum to shove Demon Dean over onto his back. Jensen goes with him, ends up straddling his waist, feeling Demon Dean’s hard cock resting against his ass, no longer inside him. 

With the demon beneath him, Jensen raises a fist to punch him, break his nose, his cheekbone, his jaw, anything. But those depthless black eyes and that cold fucking smirk stop him. Demon Dean would welcome the violence. Jensen is not a violent man, not unless he has to be. 

He has to be here. Has to take back control in the only way Demon Dean understands. 

He wraps his hand around the throat beneath him, squeezes just a little. Just to test. 

“You fed my demons long enough. No more.” 

The laugh that comes from below him is a little strained, a little wheezy. Jensen brings his other hand up, wraps them both around Demon Dean's neck, thumbs crossing over the Adam's apple. 

“Fed your demons? Jensen, you created mine.” 

Jensen squeezes. Hard. Tight. His arms shake with the effort. The face beneath him goes red, then purple. But the body never fights to break free. The hips under him squirm and thrust. 

Tighter. 

Harder. 

Jensen is sure something is going to pop, unsure if it will be him. 

Right as his arms are about to go limp, unable to hold the tension anymore, he feels the cock behind him twitch, kick and then shoot hot over his ass. When he looks into the face under him, the eyes appear to roll back. 

But instead they just morph to green, the same green eyes he’s seen in the mirror every day of his life. 

His hands fall from his own throat and the body under him takes a deep breath. 

Not Demon Dean anymore, only Jensen. 

Jensen wakes with a shout, his hips churning into the sheets and mattress below him, cock still spurting cum into his boxers. 

He’s soaked in sweat and when he realises what woke him - strangling Demon Dean and watching him morph back into Jensen - he feels new cold sweat break out all over him. 

Is it over? Is he free from Demon Dean’s spell? 

He needs to call Jared… 

But first, where did he put those new sheets?

[violetganache42]

Highlights from Saturday's Oops! All Episodes! night celebrating everyone's favorite adorable and badass pink duckling, courtesy of @knuckles-junior and yours truly!

(I couldn't make it to most of it, so any highlights I do add in the episode up until "The Last Adventure will be anything that catches my eye while scrolling back through the chat. As such, mine will be in purple while Any's are in pink. If we both have the same highlight, then it'll be left uncolored.)

Garfunkel and Oates - Rainbow Connections

Learning this song was originally for Kate Micucci and Riki Lindhome's friend

Discord and YouTube already experiencing technical difficulties to where everyone went straight to the episodes/There was a delay but don’t worry, Will. Thanks Puffy for hosting!

"Cold Duck"

Huey, Dewey and Louie are hunting for Beakleys (*Elmer Fudd laughter*)

Launchpad appearance!

Literally everyone being racist/sexist to the girls (1987, everyone. Shit like this is why the phrase "product of its time" exists.)

Dreamy: Webby is my favorite fan artist.

I never like HDL in the 87 version. Thank god I didn’t get jumped. (You're in good company with the Cafeteria Table, and we don't tolerate getting jumped for different opinions. ^^)

Puffy: WHO RAISED THEM TO HATE WOMEN SO BAD Will: Uncle Donald Puffy: "NOOOOOOOOOO BUT DONALD LOVES WOMEN HAVEN'T YOU SEEN THE THREE CABALLEROS" Dreamy: "He respects women while craving that bisexual crisis"

Everyone agreeing the DT87 triplets deserved to get sent to penguin jail

Club Penguin

Puffy: "it's not a toro it's a uuuuh goes to google morsa"

"Um, Mr. Scrooge?"/"Call me Uncle Scrooge."

Webby gaining a new sister in the form of Skittles the Penguin

"Daytrip of Doom!" (Rewatch)

Me freaking out about Scrooge being spectacless

OW MY TAILBONE (That line always cracks me up. 😂)

"Um, ocupado." Me: HOUSE MEETING. NOW.

“Wait are they gonna kiss?” (Again: I don't need that image burned in my brain, Llewellyn. >< This is why you're the evil triplet!)

*Webby kicks a sack into a tree, causing it to fall down* “WEBBY DAAAAANNNNGGGG” (This is what I would've shared in response to that scene. lol)

Spider Webby real

The entire scene with Donald flooding the mansion's main bathroom with his hose and Scrooge's golden reaction to it

Jane appearance!

THE SPORK (Shout out to @danaterrace for storyboarding that scene!)

"Like New Zealand" (I did recently hear New Zealand is a great place to live in.)

Just the entire Beakley and Donald subplot in general

Webby being a mood

Ma Beagle appearance!

THE COINS JUST SHOWED UP OUTTA NOWHERE (THAT SHIT IS SO FUCKING HILARIOUS. 🤣)

"Well, that's not something you wanna hear when you're tied up in a meat locker."

"Normal's overrated."/"We want you to be Webby normal."

Everyone when Donald attacked Bouncer and Burger:

Surprise batman appearance

"I'm on Webby's team!"

"The Good Muddahs" (Rewatch)

Us remembering Bubba was in the later seasons. -_- (Yeah, I don't blame you guys at all. 😓 DT17!Bubba can stay though; he's cool, especially since he didn't replace DT17!Webby in the group unlike his original version.)

The return of whitewashed Daffy Pt. 2: Electric Boogaloo

Missy's Discord making a random ass scream thanks to a server she's in

HDL continuing to be sexist (Seriously, WHO THE FUCK GENDERS SOMETHING LIKE HOPSCOTCH?!)

Beagle Babes appearance!

I DIDNT KNOW THERE WERE BEAGLE GIRLS CALLED “BEAGLE BABES”. (Unlike the Beagle Boys, they're not created by Carl Barks. They're a trio of one-off characters exclusive to DT87.)

THE COPS DON’T DO SHIT JUST LIKE IRL COPS

Pink guns!

(It's around this vicinity that Any's highlights for this episode dramatically decreased because she still couldn't believe what she watched, so the rest will be handled by me. Besides, she was more eager to cover Confidential Casefiles and TLA.)

Any: 12 HOURS (Remember, DT87!Webby is younger than her reboot counterart by what? A few years or something? It's normal for a kid as young as her to cry. Between how the DT87 triplets treated her and being kidnapped at literal gunpoint, she was not having a good day, so of course she would be upset. That being said, 12 HOURS? Someone get this girl some water to rehydrate herself with because that cartoon logic went into overtime!)

Shoplifting list

THE ICONIC WORRY ROOM

Missy and Puffy rooting for Beakley

nepdapurrbeast: "the police shouslve been pigs smh"

caro: "Bubba thinks he’s part of the team 💀" (FR)

WEBBY WITH A GUN

puff

The triplets behind the wheel, with Dewey driving

"From the Confidential Casefiles of Agent 22!" (Rewatch)

OTTOMAN EMPIRE MARATHON!

Black Heron appearance!

Louie having Pep priorities

Webby's special interest in Scrooge and Clan McDuck

Donald somehow locking himself in the pantry (Easily the FUNNIEST moment in season 1. 🤣)

LUDWIG APPEARANCE!

Scrooge being a sassy bitch in the flashbacks. (He was a lot cockier in the 1960s. lol)

"First ever Webby-McDuck team-up!"

Beakley punching Scrooge in the face

Story Blossom: "A rubber ball? PERRY THE RUBBER BALL?"

"Louie mostly just cries." (He is not wrong. In all seriousness, someone give Louie all the hugs.)

Scrooge McFucking dies ("Worse. I got a stem caught in my throat.")

Vengeance for Number 4

"Aww, that was gonna be so impressive." (NGL, I would do the same thing. XD Just chucking a nearby object at a runaway enemy and feeling bummed about it missing.)

Scrooge and Webby bonding (I can hear the scene in my head and I am SMILING. 😊)

spam: "every evil plot starts with a declaration of hatred speech…"

Any and Puffy: "OH NO"

Everyone freaking out about Webby almost getting killed

The art book revealing Black Heron realized Webby is April after seeing her kick the Gummiberry Juice out from her hand, drinking it, and untying Scrooge

“Call me Uncle Scrooge.”/“I’m Webby!”

Any: Several episodes later (STOOOOOOP. 😭 IT'S BAD ENOUGH DISNEY XD AIRED LAST CRASH A FEW HOURS BEFORE WEBBY NIGHT.)

Oh, and we were jumpscared by Goldie three times. (THREE?! Aw, man!)

"The Last Adventure!"

Pt. 1: A Tale of Three Webbys!

Crazy that Lena can rig an import game.

Can we talk about how Scrooge only wasted money on a birthday party at funzo’s for Webby? Slay king. (YES, WE CAN. FULL. FUCKING. PRICE. FOR HIS DAUGHTER. IT SPEAKS VOLUMES ON HOW CLOSE THE TWO HAVE GOTTEN.)

Us when Missy wants to smash both Bradford and Drake:

Violet joining at the right time ^^ (Glad to have made it in time for the family storming the Funso's base!)

Darkwing showing off by walking on two fingers

MAY AND JUNE

Any and I commenting about how OP Lena is/Violet: “We may need to start putting handicaps on Lena XD”

“You already got sisters.”

Me and Violet: AMONGUS (btw you read my mind) (I had to. 😂 On a related note…)

Puffy: "WEBBY VENTED SHE'S SUS"

"Have you eaten a hamburger?"

“COUGH UP THE INFORMATION, BENTINA!”

Webby's conspiracy board now turned into her family board

Puffy: "you know who else came out in 1996" Me: "MY MOM!"

Beakley lying to Webby./Everyone calling out Beakley and her fabricated story about Webby's parents

SHES FIBBING FIBBING FIBBING. (Oh, hey! I quoted that! :D)

NOT THE VULCAN NERVE PINCH

Webby vs. June:

Pt. 2: The Lost Library of Isabella Finch!

Donald wearing his signature blue sailor outfit again

spam: "The ducktales logo looks like a censor there i cant"

Bradford abuses/manipulates children/Us talking about Bradford being a child abuser in the finale

"It's Webby."

Scrooge smiling proudly at the kids as they board the Sunchaser

Bradford being a manipulative creep towards Huey

Phantom Blot and Pepper appearance!

Scrooge: "Any questions?" Me: "GOLD TEAM RULES!"

Lena being really op by making the sunchaser invisible.

THE ORIGINAL THREE!/TRIPLE MCDUCK FAMILY TEMPER!!!

Gyro being the biggest baby ever./Pepper obliterating the twink

"I live again!"

Violet—the character, not me—panicking

“Finally!”

Everyone after Bradford after ripping the pages off the journal: 🤬🤬🤬/Me, Toku, and Any: "BASTARD"

Donald and Della gushing over baby Jeeves

Us talking about the implications of Bradford killing Duckworth

Steelbrain

Gandra appearance!

Ludwig revealing he got way too busy to die (King shit. XD)

The revelation that Bradford kidnapped EVERYONE! EVEN SANTA CLAUS!

April.

Beakley killing Jeeves

This out of context photo Any took:

Jeeves and Don Karnage die/Dewey officially getting a kill count in the funniest way possible

Everyone freaking out at the end of part 2.

ME POINTING OUT A VERY HEARTBREAKING PARALLEL RIGHT AS PART 2 ENDED

Pt. 3: Tales' End…

Dewey hitting the dab

Puffy, Missy, and I complimenting the finale

Manny being a living Gargoyles reference

"When they do something right, they're heroes. When it gets a little hard, wE’rE cHiLdReN!"

"Aw, phooey."

Me and Missy: "STOCK POSE"

"All women… are queens!"/"If she breathes… she's a THOOOOT!"

Puffy: "hard cut to scrooge getting his spine broken lmao" EllaKai: "legit i vocalized 'agh my back'"

"How do you think Della found out you built the Spear of Selene?"/This scene and everyone freaking out in the chat again myself included:

I’m literally the only one who is happy that Heron died. Rest in Piss. (I'm sure Scrooge would agree with you on that, mainly because he did not react to her erasure from existence at all. Like, that boy just STOOD THERE. 😂)

The Webby twist never gets old. 🙂 (HUGE agree. Also…)/YOUR DAILY FUCKING REMINDER, EVERYONE:

Launchpad becoming Gizmopad

ALL OF US PANICKING AT BRADFORD NEARLY ACHIEVING VICTORY (NO FUCKING JOKE! MY BODY WAS SHAKING WHEN I SAW THAT SCENE AGAIN! ><)

"Ow?"

“GET AWAY FROM MY DAD!” ("Wait, what?")

FAMILY IS THE GREATEST ADVENTURE OF ALL!

SCROOGE FINALLY SAYING "WEBBY DARLING" 😭💖/WERE ALL DEFENDERS OF THIS FINALE DUCKBLUR FOR LIFE. SCREW THE HATERS.

Team Uncle embracing their fatherly roles, from Donald taking May and June under his wing to Scrooge making a parallel to "Woo-oo!" and worrying about Webby's safety

THE FINAL END CREDITS

[thesleepyskipper]

This or That: RWRB Edition

First of all, a massive thank you to @myheartalivewrites for creating this super fun game!

And also a huge thank you to everyone who tagged me today in it, I appreciate all of you so much! ❤️❤️❤️ I'm currently on a three week long road trip and it makes me smile whenever I see a notification from a friend pop up!

@myheartalivewrites, @kiwiana-writes, @henryspearl, @anti-homophobia-cheese, @cha-melodius

@orchidscript, @taste-thewaste, @fullsunsets, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @judasofsuburbia,

@rmd-writes, @blueeyedgrlwrites, @noahreids

(And @alasse9 I think we were typing at the same time! 😂)

The rules: I’ll list two things and you pick your favourite and bold it. Or pick both of you can't choose, I’m not your mum. And then tag some friends to join in if you like.

Here we go:

// Cakegate or the Great Turkey Calamity // Red Room or tack room // strumpet or biscuit // Don’t Stop Me Now or Your Song // Yes, good, carry on or We all must learn and grow // Prince Buttercup or Hoe Dameron // Henry runs on NYE or Henry runs from the lake house // I am very, very gay or Bisexuality truly is a rich and complex tapestry // fire under your ass for no good goddamn reason or bottom of the pie crust chat // baby or sweetheart // The whole bloody time or set me on fire // Empire Strikes Back or Return of the Jedi // AN INCOMPLETE LIST or your body comes back to me in dreams // burgundy velvet suit or midnight-blue bomber jacket // bad metaphors about maps or hometown stuff // obtuse fucking asshole or then fucking have me // America: He is my choice or Never tell me the odds // sería una mentira porque no sería él or history, huh? // I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you or I love him on purpose //

If you do this please use the 'this or that: rwrb edition' tag below or tag @myheartalivewrites, because she wants to see it making the rounds!

It's almost midnight so leaving an open tag since so many friends already played! But if you haven't yet given this a go, please consider this your chance! And please tag me so I can see your responses! ❤️

[roostersmustache]

The Hard Deck VI.

Pairing: Rooster x Bisexual Female O.C.

Author's Note: Hi hi! Thank you all for being soooo patient with me. School, work, and life in general has been kicking my ass, so writing isn't something I get to do often. But here she is! The next part of The Hard Deck! The next part will be the last, but I love the little story I've created for Charley and Bradley so much that I'll be writing many many blurbs and shorts for them. Maybe I'll even open requests >:). This isn't the most proofread, so be gentle with me. Thanks for sticking around!

Synopsis: The day of the mission, and everyone is on edge.

Warnings: Mentions of an age gap, swearing, sexual tension, mentions of an abusive relationship (heavy topic in this chapter so please proceed with caution!), violence (LOTS this chapter, please please PLEASE proceed at your own discretion), possible TGM spoilers, and as always, sexy pilots.

Word Count: 10.8k (lmfaoooo)

Masterlist

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

CHARLEY:

Charley was awoken in the early hours of the morning by Bradley getting out of bed next to her. She turned over, her eyes slowly blinking the sleep away, and checked the time on her phone.

3:57 am

Once she saw the time, she groaned and rolled back over, reaching out for Bradley in the process. Her hand made contact with his bare back, as he was sitting on the side of the bed, putting his socks back on.

"Morning, baby," he grumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

"Morning, Roos," Charley replied, a smile spreading on her face. However, this smile disappeared as soon as it had appeared, as the realization hit her that the reason they were both up this early was because Bradley had a mission. A mission that the both of them were dreading.

The two settled into silence, Bradley laying back down on the sheets and pulling Charley into him. They laid there together, just holding onto each other. It was tense, as each one of them knew what they were facing.

"You fly there, do what you have to, and fly right back. Please," Charley whispered, her head on his chest.

"Of course, baby," He whispered back. "I will come back to you."

"Please," she said. "You and my dad both."

"Charley," he said, maneuvering them to where he was on top of her. "Me and Mav are going to do everything in our power to make it back to you."

"I know," she said, tears filling her eyes. "I know, Bradley."

"Please don't cry, Char," he said, wiping a tear from her face.

"I just can't stop thinking about what you said about someone not coming back. I need that to not be you or my dad," she sniffled.

"Your dad proved this mission can be flown. We will come back to you," he said, kissing her forehead.

"Can I please stay with you tonight? When you get back?" She asked.

"Of course, baby, I was hoping you would," he replied, smiling down at her. "I have to get ready, though."

Charley just frowned up at him, not ready to let go of him.

"Don't give me that look," he said, smiling sadly at her. "I have to go."

"Please don't," Charley said.

"Char-"

"I know, I know that's unfair," she said, cutting him off. "I can't ask you that. I just wish you could stay here with me."

"I wish I could stay here with you too, honey," he sighed, his forehead resting on hers. "But I've got some enemy ass to kick," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"And enemy ass you will kick," Charley laughed.

The pair finally got out of bed, and began their respective morning routines. Charley just put on a fresh pair of sweats, and one of Bradley's t shirts since she was planning on going home and trying to get some more sleep. She probably wouldn't be able to fall asleep though.

When Bradley emerged from his closet, he was in his flight suit and had his duffel bag that contained his gear in it with him. Charley looked up to him, and gave him a small smile, the grin not really meeting her eyes. He sighed at her and walked towards her, grabbing her hand and pulling her up to him, as she had been sitting on the bed.

"I have to go," he whispered, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"I know," Charley said back.

The pair held each others hands as they headed out of Bradley's place, leaving together. They walked down to the parking lot, where their cars were parked next to each other, and stopped in front of the two of them. Charley had already started crying a bit more, the moment she had been dreading finally upon her.

"Hey," Bradley said, grabbing her chin and tilting it up to him, as she was avoiding eye contact. "I will be back for you, sweet girl."

"I know," she said, wiping at her eyes.

"My plane will land safely back on that runway today, okay? Me and your dad both."

"I'm so scared, Bradley," Charley cried. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't lose me, honey," he said, wiping a stray tear from her cheeks. "I have something I want to give you."

He pulled back from her and reached into the pocket of his flight suit, pulling something out and wrapping it in the palm of his hand. He reached for Charley's hand and put the object in her hand, and she looked.

It was his dog tags.

"This is an older set of mine, cause I have to wear my current ones, but this way you can hold on to a part of me while i'm in the air."

"Oh, Bradley," Charley said. "Thank you so much."

"Of course, baby. Besides, I'll have you with me in the air too."

"What do you mean?"

"I asked your dad for a picture of you that I could put in my plane so I could look at you while I fly. He gave me a copy of the one he keeps with him."

"You asked him for that?" Charley asked, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

"I did. I asked at training yesterday. I needed something to remind me of why I have to get back home. I've never felt like I'd had a reason to make part of my mission when I'm on a mission to get back home. I don't really have anyone. But," he said, pushing a strand of her hair back from her face. "But now I have you. I have to fly home. I have to come back to you."

"Bradley," Charley said, taking a step closer to him, her watery eyes looking up into his.

"Charley," he said back to her.

"I love you," she said, tears streaming down her face.

"I...," Bradley started, tears also forming in his eyes. "I love you too, Charley. So fucking much," he said, and he leaned down to her and pulled her in for a tight hug.

"Come back to me, Bradshaw," Charley said into his shoulder. "I can't lose you when I've just finally got you."

"I'll be back for you, baby," he cried. "I love you, and I'll see you later today."

"I love you too," she said and squeezed his hand one last time. He made his way over to his drivers side door, and she made her way to hers, the pair never breaking eye contact. "Please please please be safe, Bradley."

"I'll be as safe as I can, honey," he said, opening his door.

"Please don't let my dad do anything stupid," she said.

"I won't," he chuckled, getting into his car. "I love you, Charley."

"I love you too, Bradley," she said, finding it hard to reply with her crying.

"I will see you later, baby," he said.

"See you later," she choked, watching him close his door and start his car. She watched as he backed out of the parking lot, and drove off, not getting into her own car until she couldn't see him anymore.

Once inside of her car, Charley let everything out. She sobbed, praying that her Bradley would come back to her. She needed him to. She loved him. God, she loved him. She was so scared to lose him so soon into being with him. It terrified her. And her father. Her father was a reckless man, not always thinking his actions through. She couldn't lose him either. She's lived through several of her father's missions, and none of them have ever been safe, but this one feels different. Something about this one unsettles Charley, makes her feel sick. It feels ominous.

Charley just wants them both home as soon as possible.

~~

When Charley entered Penny's house, she expected the lights to be off, and for everyone to be asleep. But when she made her way into the kitchen, she saw Penny, standing at the counter, sipping on some water in her pajamas. Her eyes were dark and heavy, it was clear she had also cried recently.

"Hi, Pen," Charley said quietly, giving her a soft smile.

"Hey, honey," Penny replied, giving Charley a sad smile in return.

Both of them felt the tension in the air- as both of them had just had to say goodbye to the men that they loved. Though Charley had two people on her heart and mind that were flying in this mission. It was going to be a long and hard day for her.

"When did my dad leave?" Charley asked. She knew he had spent the night because he had shot her a text the night before.

"He left about an hour ago," Penny said, her voice light.

"I'm scared, Penny," Charley said. "I don't want to lose either one of them."

"I know, baby," Penny said, walking up to her and putting her arm around her. "I'm scared too. But they'll be okay. They're the best pilots in the world. If anyone can survive this mission, it's going to be them."

"I know," Charley said. "I'm just really scared."

"That's okay, Charley, so am I," Penny said, brushing back a strand of her hair. "I'm going to take Amelia on a sailing trip later to distract myself if you would like to come."

"I think I'm going to go by the bar, take care of some things on our day off. Working will help distract me."

"Charley, it's your day off for a reason. We closed the bar today to give us both a break," Penny said.

"Yeah I know, but I have some storage to sort through, and I really think it'll be good for my head."

"Only if you're certain, honey, I don't want you to overwork yourself."

"I'll be okay," she said, wiping at her eyes that were drooping from exhaustion. It was getting close to five in the morning, and Charley really wanted to go back to sleep. "I think I'm going to go and try to get some more sleep."

"Okay, hon," Penny said, rubbing soothing circles into her back. "I hope you can get some sleep."

Charley sauntered off to her room, and she closed the door tightly when she got inside. She swiftly got herself ready to get back in her bed, i.e. changing clothes, turning down her sheets, etc, and she climbed into her bed. She laid there staring at her ceiling for what seemed like hours, just thinking about how today could end. The fact that she didn't know how today was going to end is what scared her. She only hoped it ended in the best way possible.

It's safe to say that Charley didn't get anymore sleep.

~~

BRADLEY:

The entire way to base Bradley's stomach was in knots. Sure, he'd gone on several missions and sure, he was one of the best pilots in the world, but something about this one made him more nervous than usual.

It was Charley.

He had never had anyone to come home to, no one to actually safely land on the runway for. It scared him. It scared him bad. He had always been lonely, with both parents gone, and he was a hopeless romantic, but love never seemed to come his way. Because of this, he had never really worried about what would happen to him in the air. It's not like he wanted to die, but he also accepted the fact that he could with open arms.

This time was different.

He had to make it home for Charley. He had just got her. The thought of never getting to kiss her again, touch her again, or hold her again was enough to make him determined to get home. He hated he had put her in this position; waiting for him, not knowing if he'd come back. But he was too selfish. The better part of him told him, at the beginning of summer, to not get involved with her until after the mission. He knew that was only fair for her. But the other part of him won, and he acted against his better judgement and went after her.

When he arrived at base, everything seemed gloomy. The skies were dark, the air was quiet, and everyone had the same solemn looks on their face.

Two miracles. Two miracles and a dog fight. That's all it took to make it back home. It sounds so much easier than it actually is.

Bradley made his way to where the other pilots were standing, used to his group of friends cracking jokes or Hangman having some silly insult to say to Bradley as he joined. But he was met with silence. Natasha looked at him and gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. Everyone was scared. Everyone wanted to make it back.

"Good morning, Pilots," Cyclone said, getting the attention of everyone in the room. "A very difficult day is ahead of us. But each one of you have trained for this moment. I believe in you all. It is time to board the ship, though, so if you could all swiftly make your way to the boat so we can stay on schedule."

Everyone quietly made their way onto the boat, silence thick in the air. Everyone would first make their way into a quick briefing room to hear who Maverick would choose to fly with him, and then they would load up on their planes. Pete came and walked up next to Bradley, the pair nodding at each other. Bradley knew things between them had changed. They had to. They both loved Charley, and they both wanted to make it back home for her. Bradley still had a hard time being around Mav, as their past was rather...difficult. But Rooster was willing to try harder than he ever had to look past everything for his girl.

"How was she?" Maverick asked, not looking to Bradley, but Bradley knew he was talking to him.

"She's good," Bradley said, nodding. "Very worried."

"She's strong, she'll be alright," Maverick said. "Did she cry?"

"She did," Rooster said.

"Did you cry?" Mav asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit by flashing Bradley a small smirk.

"....I did," Bradley said, avoiding eye contact with the Captain.

"I cried this morning too," Mav said. "Completely normal reaction to leaving those we love, knowing we may never see them again."

"Yeah," Bradley said, sucking in a breath.

He would see her again.

The aviators filed into the small briefing room, anxiously awaiting Mav's choices for his team. Bradley didn't think he was going to get picked, especially now that Maverick knew of his relationship with Charley. Rooster also knew Pete probably didn't feel like he was capable of flying the mission, he did pull his papers to the academy because he didn't think he was ready to fly. But Bradley hoped Maverick picked him. He knew he was capable, and he wanted to make Maverick well aware of that.

"It was an honor to fly with you," Maverick started, gaining the attention of those in the room. "Each of you represents the best of the best." Everyone in the room stood with their heads down, knowing what was coming. "This is a very specific mission," Maverick continued. "My choices are only just reflections of that."

"Choose your two foxtrot teams," Cyclone stated, standing behind Mav.

"Payback and Fanboy," Maverick stated. Bradley watched as the two shared a handshake. "Phoenix and Bob," Maverick finished, his two foxtrot teams announced. Bradley could see Phoenix and Bob share a glance, both surprised yet happy they were picked.

"And your wingman," Cyclone said.

A tension fell over the room, especially between Bradley and Jake. The two of them were strong contenders, everyone knew that. But Bradley knew Jake was going to get the job, there's no way Mav would pick him.

"Rooster," Maverick said.

Bradley's eyes shot up and looked to Pete, who was giving him a somber look in return. Rooster was shocked, he did not expect for Maverick to pick him. But he did. This meant he actually had to fly now, and that's what he wanted. But a large part of him felt helpless in this moment. Because before, there was a chance he would stay on the landing strip as a spare, with an almost guarantee he'd be back home to Charley. But now, that chance had diminished completely.

The crew got one last briefing before being told to load up onto the planes. They had two minutes and thirty seconds to complete this mission. Before, it seemed impossible. But Maverick somehow proved the opposite, so at least that gave Bradley some ounce of hope.

As he walked out onto the runway to his plane, Bradley was stopped by Hangman. Hangman would be a spare in case of emergencies, and Bradley knew that's not what Jake wanted.

The two pilots stood in silence just looking at each other. They hated each other, so why was Bradley feeling a bit somber? Yes, Hangman was a pain in the ass, but Rooster also knew he was a good guy at the end of the day. The two had just never seen eye to eye.

"You give 'em hell!" Jake shouted at him over the commotion of plane engines being started. Bradley just nodded, which was enough closure that the pair needed.

He resumed his walk to his plane, but he stopped once he saw Maverick getting his plane ready. Bradley didn't want to die with a strained relationship to Maverick. After spending time flying with him, he saw how much he cared, and he started to blame him less and less for what happened to his father. And now he's with Charley, Maverick's only daughter. A shitty man and a shitty pilot couldn't have raised such an amazing, strong woman, so Bradley also gained mass amounts of respect for Pete because of Charley.

"Mav," he hollered, but the pilot didn't hear him. "Mav!" He tried again, still no reply. "Sir!" He said, even louder. This got Maverick's attention.

"I just," he started. "I just wanted to say...," but he didn't really know what he wanted to say. Nothing was coming out of his mouth.

"We'll talk," Mav stepped in. "When we get back."

Bradley nodded back at him, fear written on his face because the chances of them making it back were very slim. He turned around and began walking to his plane, only for Maverick to stop him.

"Bradley! Bradley!" He yelled, causing the younger pilot to turn back around. "You got this," was all Maverick said. Once again, Bradley just nodded at him.

Bradley finally made it onto his plane, and he had a couple of minutes to breathe before he had to get in position for takeoff. This was it. Was all he could think to himself. He may never come home from this. He may never get to hold Charley again, may never get to see her smile or hear her laugh ever again. He reached into the pocket of his vest and grabbed the picture of her he had brought. He took a good look at her, her beautiful smile shining up at him, before putting the picture back into his pocket.

The original plan was to put the picture somewhere in his plane so that he could look at her when he flew, but he decided that if he died, he wanted to die with her close to his heart.

~~

CHARLEY:

Charley decided to roll herself out of bed close to ten in the morning. As expected, she hadn’t gotten any sleep. She spent her morning tossing and turning, not knowing if her boyfriend was flying or not. Hell, him and her father might be dead for all she knew. But she knew she couldn’t let these thoughts fester all day. They could also both be very much alive, and Bradley could be on the ship. 

When Charley sauntered out into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, she saw a note on the countertop from Penny. 

Hi Char,

Me and Amelia went on a little sailing trip, and won’t be back home for a little while. Keys for the Deck are on the hook by the door, as per usual, and I made you some eggs. They’re in the fridge. Please don’t drown yourself in work at the Deck. And try not to worry about the boys too much. They’ll make it back home to us. 

-Penny

The note made her tear up a bit, a small smile forming on her face. She truly did love Penny. Penny was a calming force in Charley’s life. And she knew that if her world caved in today, at least she’d have Penny to lean on. 

She made her way over to the fridge and grabbed the eggs Penny had made for her, before she quietly sat down and ate them. She unlocked her phone and checked for any kind of message from her father or Bradley. There was none, and she knew there wouldn’t be any, but she needed to check regardless. She felt helpless, as there was no way for her to get any kind of update. She just wanted to know if they were okay. 

Once she was done eating, she quickly got ready and made her way to the Hard Deck. She knew Penny didn’t want her to work, it was her day off, but she couldn’t just sit at home and wait around for any kind of word on the mission. The bar was closed, so it would just be her, her music, and the storage closet. 

When she arrived, she unlocked the bar and walked in, setting her stuff on top of the bar counter. Seeing the Hard Deck empty gave Charley a sense of nostalgia, thinking of all of the things that have happened in this very bar throughout her life. Her dad taking her here when she was younger, him guiding her to the dance floor and dancing with her, her standing on his feet. Her birthday parties she'd have here, some of her friends never even coming because their parents didn't like that the party was at a bar. Her hearing all the times Bradley would sing "Great Balls of Fire" on the piano when she was younger. Her high school graduation, and how Penny let Maverick slip her a couple drinks to celebrate. The time she got a job here, not too long ago. And falling in love with that same Bradley in this very bar. It was like the biggest moments from her life were bundled up into this small little bar.

Charley decided to get on with her work and not continue to go down memory lane, so she turned on her speaker, put on her favorite playlist, and got to work. She went to the back and started going through the storage her and Penny have neglected for months. Boxes and boxes filled up the back closet, each full of various bar supplies and office tools. Charley knew the best thing to do to get all of this done was to just dive in and go for it, so she just started going through boxes.

Her time in the bar flew by, and doing the storage did just the trick to get her mind off of the mission. She had one box left, and she was pretty sure it was full of napkins, so she sauntered to the back one last time to grab that last box. While she was back there, she heard the bell on the door jingle, indicating that someone had entered the bar. Dammit. She forgot to lock the door.

"We're closed!" She hollered from the back, picking up the last box and making her way back out into the bar, kicking the storage closet door closed behind her. She kept walking when she heard footsteps from another person still in the bar, and she hollered again.

"I said, we're closed!"

She got back into the bars main room, and she still saw the person in her peripheral. She set down her box and huffed out, quite loudly.

"Look, the bar is closed. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

She kept her back to the person, not in the mood to give them her attention. The bar was closed, and she's told them that multiple times. She started unpacking the napkins out of the box, and when she heard no movement from the person in the bar, she gave up and turned to face them.

"Listen, asshole, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that the bar is closed, but it is very much closed and not open for business. Now, if you will please see yourself out-"

"I just want to have a conversation with my girlfriend."

Charley froze. Chills erupted all over her body, and not the good kind. She hoped she was dreaming, and she hoped that when she turned around to face this nightmare it would be Bradley standing there, alive and well.

But when she turned, she was not met with Bradley's soft smile and kind eyes. She was met with Dylan. He had a coy smile tugging at his lips, and his hands rested in the front pockets of his jeans. His jet black hair was the same as it always had been, curly and unruly. And his eyes pierced Charleys. Her breathing got sharper when she made eye contact with him. The look in his eyes was one Charley was all too familiar with. His gaze didn't hold a sliver of kindness, just pure evil. That look was the only look Charley received after he would hit her during their relationship.

"Happy to see me?" He asked, taking a step closer to the bar.

Charley backed up, her back hitting the counter, and her hands quickly finding the smooth wood of the countertop, her knuckles going white. Her heart was beating so fast her head was starting to spin. She didn't know what to do. She felt so trapped. Penny was gone on a trip with Amelia, and her father and Bradley were up in the air.

"You..," she let out a breath and licked over her now dry lips. "You shouldn't be near me."

"But why not? You're mine, and that stupid little restraining order you filed expired. So, legally, I can be near you all I want," Dylan said, stepping closer to the bar.

"I'm not yours, Dylan," Charley whispered out. "You and I are done, I thought I made that clear."

"No one, and nothing, can stop me from being with you. Not even yourself, am I clear?" He stepped up to the counter opposite from Charley and walked around to the side to open the little gate to get into the bar with her.

"But we aren't together-"

"I said," he said, banging his hand down on the counter, causing Charley to flinch. "Am I clear?"

His face was now inches from Charley's, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open in fear. She didn't want to give into him. She wasn't his, and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of saying that she was. But she was terrified. She knew what he was capable of, and she knew he didn't care about hurting her. Her hands were shaking as she gripped the counter tighter, not being able to look away from him. All of a sudden, though, she was looking at the side of the bar, and her ears were ringing.

He had slapped her.

Her eyes blinked several times to focus, and soon enough they were welling with tears. All Charley could think about in that moment was how horrifying this situation was. It used to be a constant habit of his in their relationship, but when she filed a restraining order against him, she celebrated the fact that she would never have to be struck by his hand again. But that had just changed.

She slowly turned back to face him, lightly placing a hand on her cheek. She knew it'd bruise and swell, it always did when he hit her. He was staring at her, his face red with anger, and a furrow in his brow.

"Am I clear, Charley?" He asked. All she could do was nod and swallow harshly, her mouth dry and at a loss for words. But that wasn't good enough for him. He grabbed her by her throat and shoved her up against the counter of the bar, a silenced whimper coming out of her throat.

"Do you understand me?" He yelled in her face.

"Y-yes," she croaked out, not being able to make much noise with his hand around her neck.

"Good," he said, letting her go and exiting the inside of the bar. She slumped over, a hand now going to her throat where she knew she'd also bruise. She heaved, trying to regain her breath and composure, but all she could do was silently cry as she watched him sit at one of the stools outside of the bar.

"Now make me a drink."

~~

BRADLEY:

Much to everyone's relief and surprise, the mission had been successfully accomplished. The target had been destroyed, and most of the pilots had made it back to the ship.

Most.

However, Bradley and Maverick were currently laying in the snow watching the now destroyed enemy runway, trying to figure out how the hell they were going to get home. Bradley was grateful he had even made it this long, considering his plane was destroyed. Maverick had literally run away on foot from a massive helicopter. The two were in shock but also survival mode, because they weren't home yet.

"So what's the plan?" Bradley asked, turning back to Maverick. The older pilot handed him a pair of binoculars, and Bradley looked through them, looking at what Maverick had had his eyes on. Bradley saw an F-14. The last intact plane on the runway. Bradley had never flown or even been inside of one of those planes.

"You cannot be serious," he said, looking to Maverick. Maverick didn't say anything, he just gave Bradley a look. "An F-14?"

"I took down three enemies in one of those things," Maverick said, looking towards the old plane.

"How do we know if that bag of ass can fly?"

"We're gonna find out," Maverick said, standing up.

"Mav," Bradley whisper yelled at him. "Mav!" He said again, but the older pilot kept walking. "Okay," Bradley said, standing up and running up beside of Maverick.

The enemies were too busy trying to fix what they had left of the landing strip to notice the two American pilots crossing over towards their last intact plane. The two men hurried, knowing that they would be shot on sight if they were caught.

Once they reached the plane, Pete proceeded to give Bradley instructions on how to start it up. Maverick took the front seat, and once the plane started, much to their surprise, Bradley joined him in the back.

One thing Rooster noticed was how short the ruined runway was. Sure, they had started the plane, but how were they supposed to get it in the air if all they had was a taxiway? Maverick being Maverick, however, decided to just go for it. So he dispatched the wings, getting into takeoff mode.

"Mav, why are the wings expanding?" Bradley asked. But the pilot didn't reply. Bradley knew what Pete was about to do, and he didn't know if he'd be able to pull it off. "This is a taxiway," he said. "A very short taxiway, Mav."

"You just hold on tight," Maverick said, before surging the plane forward. Bradley yelled curses in the back, and Maverick furrowed his brows, focusing on the task at hand. Luckily they got it in the air, only leaving the landing wheels behind.

Once successfully in the air, Bradley was able to get the GPS on, and he could only hope that base got his location. They'd know he was with Maverick by the fact that he would show up as being in an F-14. Bradley finally took a sigh of relief, knowing he was finally on his way home. He would be making it home. He would get to hug his girl. He wished more than anything that he could let her know that him and her father were both on their way home, alive. He smiled thinking about how happy she would be.

But his smile didn't stay on his face for long. He quickly noticed that two enemy aircraft were circling below them, coming to fly up next to them.

"Mav, tally two five o'clock below," he announced.

"Ok, listen," Mav started, letting out a shaky breath. "Act calm. If they knew who we were we'd be dead already."

"Here they come," Rooster said, watching as the two planes flew right up next to them. "What's the plan?"

"Let's put on our helmets," Maverick said, and the two did. "Remember, we're on the same team. Just wave and smile."

The pilots tried to act normal, but the enemy pilots kept throwing up signals that neither one of them recognized.

"Shit, his wingman is moving into weapons envelope," Maverick said. Both pilots knew this meant they were about to have a dogfight. "Ok listen, when I tell you to pull the rings above your head, pull them. They're the ejection handles."

"Mav, can we beat these guys?" Rooster asked.

"Not with our guns and missiles."

"Then it'll be a dogfight," Bradley said.

"In an F-14 against 5th generation warplanes?" Maverick stated.

"It's not the plane, it's the pilot," Bradley stated, giving Pete his own advice. Pete just stayed silent, knowing that Bradley was right. "If I wasn't here you'd be after them."

"But you are here," Maverick said. The last thing he wanted was to put Bradley's life in danger. He had already been the cause for his father's death, he didn't need to be responsible for Bradley's too.

"Come on Mav, don't think, just do," Bradley said.

After taking a moment to breathe, Maverick decided that the only chance he had to keep Bradley alive was to dogfight his way back to the ship. He knew it'd be risky, but it was the best chance the two of them had to getting back home.

The fight ended up being close, but they won, and no longer had the enemies on their tail. The fight ended up costing them their missiles, and they took several hits, so they needed to make it back to the ship immediately. They would surely be dead if they came into contact with another enemy.

"Mav, I got the radio on," Rooster announced in the back.

"Great, make contact with the ship," Mav replied, sinking a bit into his seat, feeling the relief of being able to make it home to his daughter.

Both men fell into a silence, the exhaustion of the day hitting them. It was a miracle they were alive. They should both be dead. But the mission had somewhat mended the torn relationship between the two men. When Bradley was up in the air and Mav's plane got shot down, it hit him all at once how much he loved Maverick. He was deliberately told not to go after him, as he was probably dead, but he did anyways. He didn't want to lose the closest thing to his father he had left. But now, the pilots had fought for their lives, multiple times, and they were so close to being back to the ship.

Bradley knew that him and Pete would have a talk when they made it back. He knew it'd be sentimental. Not only did Bradley actually want a relationship with Mav, but he was also dating his daughter. He knew Pete wasn't the biggest fan of this development, but he also knew, deep down, that Maverick knew Bradley would take care of Charley.

However, as soon as Bradley started to try to make contact with the ship, beeping came from the radio, and he could see that there was an enemy plane somewhere in their midst. He had no idea where the plane was, and he scrambled to look for it, but it was nowhere to be seen.

"Where the hell is this guy?" Bradley asked, both him and Maverick doing their best to stay calm.

"Right on our nose," Maverick replied.

Sure enough, Bradley looked out the window again, and saw the enemy plane flying straight at them, right on their tale. He took a second to close his eyes and take a deep breath. He opened them and began fighting with what he had left. They had a problem, though, as they had run out of ammo.

"Smoke in the air! Smoke in the air!" Rooster yelled, as the enemy had just fired at them.

"Rooster, flares!" Maverick yelled back. Rooster fired the deflectors, and just as the missile was about to hit, the deflectors hit it and saved them.

"That was too close," Bradley hollered. The two had also just ran out of deflectors. Bradley was trying not to lose his cool, but they had no missiles, no ammo, and no deflectors either. The chances of them surviving were dwindling fast.

"We're out of flares, Mav," Bradley announced. "Shit he's already on us!"

The enemy aircraft weaved behind the two of them, firing shots while Maverick did his best to weave in and out of the lines of fire. They were so close to the ship, the two didn't want to give up. But they kept taking hits, and they had nothing to fight back with.

"We can't take much more of this!" Bradley yelled.

"We have to eject, we need altitude," Maverick yelled, hoisting the plane upwards, getting them ready for a hopefully safe ejection.

"Wait but Mav-"

"Rooster we can't out run this guy. We have no other choice. Eject eject!" Maverick yelled.

Rooster, much to his dismay, began to violently pull at the ejection handles above his head. But he stayed seated in the plane. The handles didn't work. Bradley's doom slowly sunk in, realizing he would not be making it back to the ship, and he would never see Charley again.

"Rooster, eject!" Maverick yelled again.

"It's not working!" He yelled back, trying at the handles again. "Mav!"

"I'm sorry, Goose, I'm sorry," Mav said to himself, knowing that any second both him and Bradley would be no more. Maverick had never felt failure like this before. He had let everyone down, himself, Penny, Charley, Bradley, and now Goose again. He had spent the last couple decades carrying the guilt of Goose's death, and now he'd die with the guilt of Bradley's.

But the explosion he was anticipating never came. He heard one, and he turned to look, and the enemy plane had been blown up. Out of the smoke emerged one of the Navy's planes. Both Rooster and Maverick stared with wide eyes.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," came a voice from the radio. "This is your savior speaking."

Hangman flew his plane right up next to Maverick and Bradley, the two taking breaths of relief and laughing at the unexpectedness of the entire situation.

"Please fasten your seatbelts and turn your tray tables to their locked upright positions, and prepare for landing," Hangman continues.

Maverick tapped on his window twice in thanks. And Bradley took a sigh of relief. Just a few moments ago, he was bracing himself to die, and now he's on his way back to the ship, on his way back to Charley.

"Hey Hangman," Rooster started. "You look good."

"I am good, Rooster," Hangman replied. "I'm very good. I'll see you back on deck," he said as he flew away from the pair.

Both men shook their heads in disbelief. They had survived. They'd both make it back to their girl, back home. The flight back to the ship was an easy one. Both men were anxious to get back, so Pete flew the plane fast.

Once they got back on the ship, they had a rough landing due to a dead engine and no landing wheels, they hugged all of their friends and celebrated a completed mission. One that everyone had survived. Amidst the chaos of everyone cheering and celebrating the success, Bradley and Maverick found each other.

The two men stared at each other, both feeling the same things. Lots of emotions poured through them, going back years to Goose's death. They had just survived one hell of a mission together, and Bradley knew deep down that Maverick only wanted the best for him.

"Thank you for saving my life," Maverick said to Bradley, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"It's what my dad would've done," Bradley replied.

Rooster watched as Mav started to tear up, and he pulled him in for a hug. After today, Bradley knew that Maverick and him would work things out. He knew they'd fix things and finally have the relationship they both needed.

Once everyone was done celebrating and the boat got back to base, Bradley was able to shower off in the locker room and change clothes. He retrieved his phone and turned it back on, hoping that he had heard from Charley.

Char 🩷

thinking abt u. pls be safe. im at the hard deck and will be for a while to clear my head. cant wait to see u later. love u baby fly safe. 💞

He read the text with a smile on his face, and went to text back, but decided it would be better if he surprised her at work instead. As he walked out of the locker room, he walked by Maverick, who had also cleaned up, and decided that it would be nice if they both surprised her.

"Hey Mav," Rooster said, the pair stopping in the hallway. "Charley's at the hard deck, whaddya say we surprise her there?"

"That's a great idea Bradley," Maverick replied. "Hopefully Penny's there too. Are you ready to head out? I am, so we can head on if you're ready."

"I am, yeah, was just about to leave."

"Great, I'll see you there."

Bradley drove as fast as he legally could to the deck, impatient to see his girlfriend and hug her again. He made sure to blast his favorite oldies music, celebrating the life that he still had. Maverick was close behind him on his motorcycle.

When he arrived, he spotted Charley's car and smiled to himself. He noticed another car there, too, that he didn't recognize, but he shrugged it off thinking it may have been Penny's fathers. He hopped out of his car and happily walked over to Maverick, giving him a smile.

"You ready?" Bradley asked, his patience running thin. All he wanted was to see Charley.

Maverick didn't reply, though, as he just gave Bradley a grim look and swallowed. All of the color had seemed to drain from his face.

"Mav? Is everything alright?" He asked.

"That car," Maverick said, glancing over to the car Bradley didn't recognize. "That car belongs to Dylan."

The words Maverick had just spoken hit Bradley like a ton of bricks. The color drained from his face as well, knowing that his girl could be in serious danger inside. Who knows how long Dylan had even been there. He swallowed thickly thinking about how he had been in the air while his girl had been down here in danger.

"Pete," Bradley said. "What do we do?"

"I don't know. I don't know if he's armed, I'm not sure."

"Should we call the police?"

"Yes, yeah get them on the line, and then we go in there and stop this shit."

CHARLEY:

The past two hours of her day, Charley had spent trapped by the presence of her abusive ex boyfriend, Dylan. He had demanded so many drinks from her that he had become drunk. Charley believes this was his goal, as he got his worst when he was under the influence.

She had thrown up multiple times at this point, because the stress from the mission combined with the presence of Dylan was too much for her to handle. He had hit her multiple times, her cheeks puffy and red, and her head was pounding. Her throat was dry, and her eyes irritated, as the amount of crying and abuse had done a number on her.

"Charley," Dylan mused, walking over to the jukebox and putting on a song. "Come dance with me."

Charley just shook her head from where she was curled up in the corner. The song he had chosen was "Great Balls of Fire," and it's almost as if he chose this song to mock her. It just made her cry more. She wanted nothing more than to be held by Bradley right now.

"I said dance with me, Charley," he said, stumbling towards her, his beer in hand. "I wasn't asking."

"I don't want to dance with you," Charley rasped, giving the man a glare.

"And I said," Dylan started, leaning down and yanking her up to her feet by her arm. "I wasn't asking."

"Please, Dylan," Charley cried, fighting against his grasp. "Please leave me alone, I won't tell anyone you were here, I swear it."

"Charley, I am not letting you run away from me this time," he sneered, pulling her closer to him, his face a mere inch away from hers. "You are mine, and no navy pilot can change that."

"No, Dylan," She said, trying to yank herself from his grip. "I don't want you. I will never want you."

He replied by giving her a firm punch to the nose, her vision going black as she stumbled backwards and fell to the floor. Blood began pouring from her nose, and she started breathing heavily, her ears ringing from the pain.

"Wha-" Charley stuttered. "Dylan-"

"That's what happens when you don't listen, Charley. You should know by now."

Dylan had never punched her. He had only ever struck her. Her brain was spiraling, and she was trying not to pass out. The pain was unbearable, and the amount of blood coming from her nose was alarming. He had definitely broken it.

"Get up. I told you to dance with me," Dylan said, yanking Charley up once again. She winced out in pain, her vision going in and out.

"I can't," she cried to him.

"Yes you can. Do you want me to hit you again?"

"Dylan," Charley stumbled trying to stay upright. "My nose."

"You did that to yourself," he sneered, dragging her to the center of the bar. The bleeding had let up a bit, but the pain was still blinding.

As soon as Dylan started to sway the two of them back and forth, Charley heard banging on the door of the bar. Dylan had locked it earlier, preventing anyone from entering. But Charley watched as the door shook with each bang, before it eventually swung right open. Dylan stepped away from her, causing her to fall to the floor. When she looked up, she saw her father and Bradley barge into the bar.

She choked on a sob, seeing her boyfriend and father enter the bar together, both alive. The relief that overtook her was the best she had felt in a long time, almost like she knew everything would be okay. She couldn't believe they were okay and alive, and here for her.

She watched as both men stormed in, anger written all over their faces. Once Dylan realized who was there, he crouched down next to Charley and yanked her up to him, holding a pocket knife to her throat. Charley cried out in fear, locking eyes with Bradley. She instantly felt better, as seeing him made her feel at ease.

"You let her go," Maverick said, stepping forward. "You let my daughter go, Dylan."

"And why should I do that?" He retorted. "She's mine."

"You're fucking delusional, dude," Bradley said, stepping forward. "Get the fuck away from her."

"Bradley-" Charley started, her eyes never leaving him.

"Shut up," Dylan sneered, pressing the knife into her neck.

"I said," Bradley said, taking a step towards them. "Get the fuck away from her."

"And who are you, to make demands about who has a hold on her?" Dylan said, snarling back at Bradley.

"I'm her fucking boyfriend, so let her go," Bradley said, taking another step towards them.

"Boyfriend?" Dylan yelled, throwing Charley to the floor. Maverick immediately ran to his daughters side, scooping her up and holding her as she sobbed into him. "She's mine!" Dylan yelled.

Dylan lunged at Bradley, pocket knife in hand, swinging it at him in an attempt to harm him.

"Bradley!" Charley cried out, knowing what Dylan was capable of.

Suddenly, they all heard sirens outside. Maverick and Bradley had called the police, and they had finally arrived. Dylan froze in his tracks, and Bradley just gave him a malicious grin. The police burst through the bar, armed with their guns, ready to fire if necessary.

"Put the knife down!" An officer yelled. Dylan gave a look of angry defeat, before throwing the knife on the floor. He raised his hands, surrendering to the police, as they cuffed him. He looked towards Charley one last time, who was still clung to her father.

"I'll be back, bitch," he said, snarling at her as he was escorted out of the bar.

As soon as he was gone, Charley let out a guttural sob, wrapping her arms tightly around her father. Maverick cried with her, hugging his daughter and kissing the top of her head.

"Are you okay?" Maverick asked, pulling Charley back to look at her face. Her cheeks were bruising and swollen from being hit, and her nose was stained with blood, and a deep purple, indicating a broken nose. "Oh my God, Charley, baby I'm so sorry," Maverick cried.

"You're alive," Charley cried back. "Thank God you're alive." She then pulled back from her father and moved her eyes to Bradley, who was stood watching the pair, silently crying.

"Bradley," Charley said, moving away from her father and over to her boyfriend. "Bradley, I love you, I love you so much," she cried, kissing his cheeks when she got to him.

"I love you, Charley," he cried back, kissing the top of her head. "We need to get you to a doctor, baby. I think your nose is broken."

"I'm just glad you're okay," she said, taking his face in her hands. "That you're both okay," she added, looking to her father.

"Are you okay, Charley?" Bradley said, gently tugging her chin so she was looking at him again.

"I am now, promise," she kissed the palm of his hand before snuggling into his chest. She quickly pulled back, though, as her nose had made contact with his chest, causing her to cry out in pain.

"Honey," Maverick said, coming to the couples side. "We need to get you to a doctor."

Charley nodded her head, her hand cupping her nose, and her eyes squinted in pain. An officer came up to the group with a notepad, and stared at Charley expectantly.

"Could I get a statement from you, uhhh-" he started, looking down at his paper to find Charley's name. "Miss Mitchell?"

"Can't you see that she needs medical attention?" Bradley asserted, stepping forward.

"Baby, it's okay, I'll give them a quick statement and then we can go," Charley said, turning towards the officer.

Charley began giving the officer a statement, and she made sure it was detailed enough so that Dylan wouldn't be getting out of prison anytime soon. She fought her way through talking about how he had put his hands on her. She had been speaking about how he had slapped her, and then punched her, and it had caused her breathing to become shallow, her vision blurring, and her heart pounding. She turned to face Bradley, her face pale, and her skin blotchy.

"Charley?" He asked, worry prominent on his face. "Charley, talk to me baby. What's going on?"

"I think," she started, her eyes not meeting his. "I think I'm having a panic attack."

"Okay, honey, just breathe. Breathe, Char, everything's okay," Bradley said, pulling her close to him. "Officer, I need to get her to the hospital."

The officer just nodded back to Bradley, and he ushered himself and Charley over to his Bronco. Maverick walked over to the pair, as he had just finished giving a statement himself.

"Is she okay?" Maverick asked.

"She needs a doctor, her nose is broken, and she says she's having a panic attack."

"Okay, I'll follow you to the hospital."

Once Bradley had helped Charley into the car, he passed her his water bottle. Her breaths had become more normal, but she was still shaking.

"Drink this, Char," he said, holding the water up to her lips. She sipped slowly, and then took the bottle from Bradley, maneuvering it herself. The entire drive to the hospital felt so long for the both of them. Bradley felt like they would never get there, and Charley felt the same way. Her nose was throbbing, and her whole head felt like it had been rammed into a brick wall.

"Can you walk?" Bradley asked, opening her car door.

Charley just nodded her head, grabbing onto Bradley's arm to get out of the car. Pete walked up to the two of them, offering Charley his other arm in case she needed the extra support. They walked into the emergency room, and Charley immediately lost her footing, grasping onto Bradley, and clutching her enflamed nose.

"Oh, baby, c'mon," Bradley said, picking her up and carrying her the rest of the way inside.

Bradley and Maverick walked up to the front desk quickly, Charley crying silently in Bradley's arms. Her nose brought her so much pain, and her head was spinning. Everything hurt, and all she wanted to do was fall asleep.

Her father explained to the nurses what had happened, and she was immediately ushered to an exam room. Once they got her situated on the hospital bed, a doctor came in to examine her. Maverick waited in the waiting room, and Bradley joined her in the exam room. The doctor took some x-rays, and came to the conclusion that she had a pretty severe concussion. Her nose was also, as she suspected, fractured, but the doctor said he could easily pop her nose back into place.

"So, you're just going to pop it back into place?" Charly weakly asked the doctor.

"Yes, the pain will be minimal, but it will be over before you know it."

Charley nervously glanced over to Bradley, and he took that as his invitation to come and hold her hand.

"It'll be okay, baby. You're so strong, Charley. This is the easiest part of your day," he said to her while brushing her hair out of her face.

She just nodded, squeezing Bradley's hand and screwing her eyes shut. She felt the doctor sit on the side of the bed, his cold gloved hands coming to rest gently on her nose. She flinched at the contact, taking a shaky breath in.

"I'll be quick, on the count of three, okay?" The doctor said, his grip on her nose tightening.

"One....two," he said.

"Three."

With a snap, her nose was back in place. Charley let out a pained groan, tears immediately falling from her eyes.

"That's it, Char, you're done, you're done," Bradley shushed her.

"Alright, for the nose, it'll finish healing on its own, just don't go too crazy on it," The doctor started, taking his gloves off and filling out a piece of paperwork. "As for the concussion, lots of rest, seriously, no working out for you or anything extraneous for the next little while. As for the cuts and bruises, a nurse will come in and clean them off for you, and we'll send you home with a bag of cleaning supplies." He stops his writing and turns to look at Charley, giving her a somber look. "I hope you heal quickly, Miss Mitchell. I am very sorry to hear of your circumstances. If you need anything else, you can always stop by. Just ask for 'John.'"

"Thank you so much," she whispered to him.

Bradley nodded to the doctor as he left the room, and he spent the next few minutes kissing Charley's forehead, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. The nurse came in the room, and cleaned Charley's minor cuts, and gave her the bag of supplies as promised by the doctor. She was soon discharged, and she had enough strength to walk herself out of the hospital.

Bradley drove her back to Penny's house, Maverick followed. Pete had kept Penny updated, and the poor woman insisted everyone sit down for dinner together. Once they got to Penny's, Bradley helped Charley inside. Penny immediately came and checked on Charley, then checking on Bradley, giving him a big hug. Maverick was the last to walk inside, and Charley and Bradley observed their tender reunion quietly. Bradley followed Charley to her room, and helped her change into some fresh clothes.

"I'm so glad you're here with me, Bradley. I was so worried about you," she whispered to him, slinking her arms around him and resting her head on his chest.

"And I'm glad you're safe, Charley. I'm so sorry that happened to you," Rooster said, resting his chin atop her head.

"It's okay, I'm okay knowing you're here with me."

A knock disturbed the couple, and Penny peeped her head in.

"Dinner's on the table," she said.

"We'll be right there," Charley said back.

Penny closed the door, and Bradley's lips found their place on her forehead. He felt a drop on his hand holding hers, and pulled away, tilting her chin up to look at him. Charley was crying, and Bradley's brows pinched together, a thumb coming to wipe a tear off her cheek.

"What is it, Char?" He whispered, cupping her cheeks.

"I was so scared today," she whispered. "Even before Dylan showed up, I was sick to my stomach all morning. I really thought I was going to lose you today. And then I thought I was going to die. I can't lose you Bradley, and the stress I felt today was so unbearable."

"Hey," he said, wiping more tears from her cheeks. "It pains me more than you know to know that I was up in the sky while you were fighting for yourself here on your own. But here we both are, alive, and after we eat dinner, I will take you back to my place and we'll lay together for as long as you want. I love you, and I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," she cried, hugging him tighter.

"We'll get through this. I promise."

~~~~

Dinner at Penny's was quiet, but the mood happy. Everyone was happy to be safely in each others presence, happy to have that moment together, as they didn't know if they'd get it at the start of the day.

Bradley drove him and Charley back to his place, the two immediately taking a shower together and getting into bed. Bradley helped Charley change all of her bandages, and she helped him do the same with the ones he got on the mission.

"Tell me about your mission," Charley said to him, her voice quiet in the bedroom, the couple wrapped in the safety of each other.

"Are you sure you want to hear about it?" He asked, brushing her hair out of her face. "It wasn't easy."

"You're here aren't you?" She said back, cupping his cheek. "I can handle hearing about it."

"Well, we hit both targets, so the actual mission wasn't the issue. It was getting back," he stated, looking away from his girlfriend and staring at the ceiling in thought. "The missiles were coming at us so fast, I was losing control of my plane. One was coming right at me, but your dad cut it off. It hit him instead."

Charley's eyes went wide, and her lips parted a bit. Her dad took a missile for Bradley? That honestly didn't surprise her much. She knew her father cared for him. But her dad being hit by a missile in the first place? Charley was so grateful he was alive.

"They told me to come straight back to the ship, we were so close, but I couldn't leave him like that. I didn't know if he was dead or not, but I didn't want to risk leaving and him being all alone out there. So I went against orders and went after him. When I found him, he was out of his plane about to be gunned down by an enemy helicopter. I blew the aircraft up, and he was fine, but then a missile got me and shot me down."

"Oh my God, Bradley, that's so scary."

"I know, are you sure you want to keep hearing?" He asked, softening his eyes for her.

"Yes," she said in full confidence.

"Well, your dad then came and found me, I had ejected from my plane, and we bickered, him telling me not to come after him, me telling him how stupid that sounded, etc. In the end, though, we were happy to see each other both alive."

Hearing that her father and Bradley were happy to see each other could've brought tears to her eyes. She desperately wanted the two to put their differences aside, she loved them both so much.

"We found a plane, it was so scary because the runway, that was completely ruined, might I add, was flooded with enemies. But we managed to get it going and get it in the air. It was so old, an F-14, I'm lucky I was with your dad, since he knows how to fly one of those. Once we got in the air, it was just a smooth sail home, but we did come in contact with enemies. They recognized us as the enemy because of our helmets, and we ended up having to fight them off, losing us a bunch of ammo. But we fought them off, so we thought we'd be safe."

"There's more?"Charley asked.

"Yes," he sighed. "Charley I really thought I was going to die. I've been faced with the possibility of death so many times, but never like this. We had another enemy on our nose, who kept hitting us, and we ended up running out of guns, ammo, flares, all of it. We had no way to fight him off. And the plane wouldn't eject. I tried to pull the handles, but they were stuck. I really thought I was going to die."

Charley noticed him tear up, and she immediately cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

"Hey, but you're here now. You're safe, you're alive."

"I know, but I was so scared. I've accepted death on every mission I've ever gone on, but this one, having you, I couldn't die up there. And if Hangman hadn't gone against orders and come to help us, me and your dad would both be dead right now."

Charley sucked in a breath, making a major mental note to thank Hangman for saving their lives.

"He disobeyed orders and circled back and shot the plane down himself. I owe him big time now. He saved my life," Bradley said, wiping a tear from his cheek.

"I love you," Charley whispered to him. "I'm so glad you're safe."

"Me too, we were able to return to the ship safely after that. And that's when I came to you."

Charley leaned up to hover above him, and then leaned down and pressed her lips against his. He happily kissed her back, his hands finding purchase on her waist and pulling her closer to him. The kiss was passionate, slow and tender. They both just wanted to feel each other.

"I love you, Bradley," Charley said between kisses. "Thank you for coming back to me."

"I will always come back to you, Charley," he said, pulling her to him again, kissing her hard before the two fell asleep.

~~

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know whatchu think! And send me blurb requests so I can start brainstorming! As always, likes, comments, and shares are always appreciated. Much love!

-Sophie

ALSO! Lots of heavy topics in this one, so I am going to include the domestic abuse hotline below. You are so worthy of a love beyond measure, and if you or someone you know is struggling, call the number below.

National Domestic Violence Hotline:

(800) 799-7233

~~

TAGLIST (If you would like to be added or removed, let me know!):

@fangirl-316 @alana4610 @katiemcrae @paintballkid711 @emptyloverofmine @datingbtr @luckyladycreator2 @analliedumpling @midnightdevotion @happypopcornprincess @dunningz @claudie-080102 @hope-love-equality2 @shanimallina87 @unordinare @reneki

[meiramel]

Ava Stark

Name: Ava Stark

Full name: Ava Maria Stark

Age(2012-2016): 20-24

Birthday: 1992, May 2

Height: 5’7

Sexuality: bisexual

Parents:

Mother(deceased): Monica Wilde

Father: Tony Stark

Likes: cats, dogs, car rides, nights, music, cheeseburgers, movies(especially comedy), red and blue colours.

Life story:

Let’s go back to the 90s. 1992. Tony was… well, you know Tony. A genius and a playboy. He got into a relationship, surprisingly. But it was a very short one, probably around a few weeks or a month long. He met Monica Wilde. Everything was great, both of them had a great time with each other.

Monica found out she was pregnant with his child. Monica knew that, at the time, Tony didn’t want children. Which was a problem, because she decided to keep the kid. She didn’t tell him. She had dreamed of becoming a mother one day. Monica was too happy to give up the child just because Tony wouldn’t want it.

One night, Monica packed her things and left Tony, while he was sleeping. She left nothing for him. No letter, no nothing. Tony was confused and hurt, but he, of course, moved on.

1992, May 2nd, Ava was born. Ava was under Monica’s care. She took care and loved Ava with her whole heart.

Around three years later, Tony got a letter from the courthouse, which talked about Monica’s tragic passing in a car accident and and his biological daughter, who was left with no one to take care of her. Tony was shocked and panicked. A child? Of his? A daughter he never knew he had? But then he thought. Ava was three years old and Monica left him three years ago. All of it made sense now. He had to attend the court.

The court let Tony take Ava under his care. He was absolutely terrified, but he did a great job raising her with the help of Pepper, Happy and Rhodey. Tony became a great father.

Growing up, Ava always hung out with her dad. Especially in the lab. She loved watching him work and build cool stuff, while listening to the greatest music. She was happy with her dad.

Ava was sixteen when Tony got kidnapped in Afghanistan. For those three months, she was worried sick for him. She tried to stay positive, she knew that her dad would find a way out to come home. It was extremely hard though, the military going out in search of him every day and coming back without him kept on breaking her heart.

When Tony was found, Ava learned to be grateful for every day she got to spend with her family and friends. This whole incident had given her a big fear of losing her loved ones.

As years went, grew up into a smart and confident young woman. She’s got the sass, humour and wit just like her father. Even though Ava’s sarcastic and blunt, she’s kind and caring too. She will always be there for her friends and family whenever something happens. Ava appreciates and is grateful for the things she has in her life. Obviously has a great taste in music (thanks to Tony). If you respect her, she will respect you. But if you don’t - don’t expect respect from her. Ava can be quite protective of her friends and family. If you disrespect them, she will definitely bite you back for it.

Ava loves working with her dad. She loves learning, creating and building things with him. She has done that since a very young age. Ava has quite a great understanding in technology and maths, and that’s why sometimes she works with her dad as his sidekick or partner.

Face claim: Emmy Rossum

—

Ava Stark, everyone. I hope you like her, you munchkadees.

@jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile

[kickingitwithkirk]

Greetings from Austin

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Word Count: 2161

Warnings: a/b/o, J2 are married/mated, homophobia, bisexuality, biphobia, outdated beliefs, angst, cursing, jealousy, depression/anxiety, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility, IVF, surrogacy, subgender inequality

*additional warnings to be added in future parts.

Square filled: Non-traditional Alpha Traits @spnabobingo Maid Au @spnaubingo

A/N: Here we go again with one my weird as hell dreams, series Inspired by this art.

A/N II: There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles or Padalecki families. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional A/B/O verse. Some dates/events altered to fit story.

A/N III: thank you to everyone for hanging in there since it’s taken me ages to drop a new character, I’ve been doing rewrites/updating on all my series, more to come in future.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*divider by @writeyourmindaway​​​​​​

*images found online

Part IV

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

“DON'T YA’ BE YELLING AT ME, MR. MAN, EVEN IF THIS IS YOUR FUCKING HOUSE…”

“I gotta go,” tossing his phone on the bedside table, Jared, wearing his blessed socks, runs across the main room and slides on the hardwood floor into the kitchen and saw his husband standing three feet from Quinn as she’s vigorously gesturing with a paring knife while telling him off in her colorful language.

“Put the knife down!” The older Alpha’s voice resonates through the room, making Jared flinch, feeling the command’s power, watching Quinn set it on the counter and Jensen reach over, sliding it towards him.

She stood a bit longer before blinking in confusion, and then her demeanor shifted to madder than a wet hen, her natural lower voice dropped another octave, and the lilt became very pronounced. “Don’t ya’ ever use that fucking voice on me again!” 

“You were threatening me with a knife!” Jensen picks up the item, making her laugh, “Holy fucking shit, are ya’ serious? Ya’ could barely use it for a toothpick, let alone...” 

Jared stood there, mouth hanging open, have’n seen others take on his mate, wrongfully assuming he’d be the easier of the two to intimidate, but when let off its leash, Jensen's wolf made Dean Winchester look like a pussy cat.

“JARED!”

The younger Alpha's mouth snapped shut, “sorry, what?”

“I asked you what the surrogate is doing here?”

“The surrogate has a name.” 

 “What is Quinn doing here?”

 “So..uh..okay,” Jared slowly starts around the island doing his sometimes awkward, hesitant thing.  “A few days ago, I got a call from this number I didn’t recognize. It was about the ultrasound appointment scheduled while you were in LA.” 

He paused to see if Jensen remembered, and yep, his mate was wearing his get to the fucking point expression.

“They informed me she’d canceled it because she was leaving town.” 

Jensen's attention returned to the O, ”Don’t fucking start on me again, Ackles!”

“You know who I am?” 

“Duh, Sherlock!” 

Jensen would later try to justify it was jet lag and surprise finding their surrogate in their home, not her smart-ass mouth, for snarling at her.

“Och, save it for the cameras, drama queen. Ya’ put pants on just like the rest of us; the only difference is yours have designer labels.”

Jared interrupted the speeding downhill faster than an Olympic bobsledder situation, “I remembered her saying something about managing Mulroney’s Bookstore, so I called Clif to see if he’d get her to contact me and calls back saying some Alpha...” 

“...who’s a flaming jackass!”

“Yeah, that’s what Clif called him. Anyways, he claimed to be the manager and had no idea where she was when another employee said they knew where she was living...”

“... that’s when ya’ boy shows up..”

“…I explained about the mixup...”

“…Padalecki followed me to my room to get the new date, then he caused a scene...”

“...I couldn’t help my wolf freaking out at where my..our pups were living...”

“…told ya’ it was there or the I-35 underpass!”

Jared bristled at the reminder, “The door had three locks, a barely functional heater, and a broken fridge. Cockroaches wouldn’t even live there!”

Quinn raises onto the balls of her feet and loudly reminds him about putting her in the shitter with the manager and getting fired when Jared shouts back in his booming voice, “there was a guy by the ice machine offering to sell me heroin!!”

“ENOUGH!” Jensen's Alpha voice echoes throughout the kitchen, quieting them both.

“She’s right,” Jared opened his mouth to retort, but Jensen countered with, “And so are you. Quinn, couldn’t your family help,” the Alphas wrinkled their noses at her souring scent, so he attempted another approach. 

“I want to clear something up. I recall one of the stipulations for surrogates is that they reside in an appropriate domicile. Why were you living in a motel? Could you tell us what happened?”

“The flaming jackass tipped off the landlord I’m an O, and that fucker evicted me even though I never caused any problem or was late with rent.”

“There is a moratorium on evictions..”

“..that moratorium is a fucking joke!”  

“What a minute,” Jensen said, and at the same time, Jared remarked, “It protects people...”

“Newsflash, Mr. Wizard, was created by and for the protection of Alphas and Betas! Take a hot minute to read the fine print, and you’ll find loopholes granting landlords, to quote, discretionary privileges pertaining to the eviction of those designated with the sub-gender Omega. In other words, they can boot O’s for any damn reason!” She gave the Alphas a hard stare, “So, enlighten me as to why y’all didn’t know a fucking thing about that bit?”

The kitchen got quiet as the Alphas glanced at each other, trying to find a non-assholey-sounding response. “Yeah, that’s what I thought; since it’s well known you two prefer Betas.” Quinn addressed the older Alpha.

“Padalecki and I have an arrangement. I keep the house and do meals in exchange for temporary boarding. No need to fret that pretty head of yours, Ackles; I’ll do me damnedest to stay outta the way."

🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎

December 23rd                                                                                                   Late Afternoon

Quinn heard Jensen’s surprised greeting covering the stewpot of goulash, slid it into the oven to stay warm, and peeked around the wall and saw him in the foyer hugging a small, older O, then a tall, bald Alpha carrying several bags crossed over to them.

“Let me help you with those, sir,” she offered, taking them couldn’t help but overhear his not-subtle sniff, “Jensen, who’s this?”

“Umm,” Jensen scratched the back of his neck, fumbling for a response, “this is the housekeeper, Quinn.”  His mother-in-law peered inquisitively at the tall Omega before asking, “What happened to your boys' service?”

“I worked for it.”

Gerald Padalecki dubiously eyed the O up and down as she continued. “They pared down the staff, and Jared offered to retain me in exchange for lodging...”

“You live with them?” Gerald barked, “Jensen, that’s unwise considering...”

“Considering what Gerry,” his mate sharply asks, “the boys wouldn’t let someone stay they couldn’t trust.”

 “I normally wouldn’t question their judgment, but she's an unmated O.”

“Whoa,’ Jensen jumped in, “are you suggesting that Jared or I...” 

“Mama..daddy..what’re y’all doing here?” Jared couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice, wrapping his long arms around his mother, “thought you were coming tomorrow.” 

“We decided to surprise you but got it instead.” Gerald’s gruff reply made Jared throw his husband a confused look, catching a whiff of his dad and Jensen, “What’s going on?”

“I bet y’all would like to freshen up after your trip.” Quinn blurted out, “Jensen, would you help me with their luggage, please.”

Taking the car keys, he follows her out the door, remarking, “you think fast, coming up with that story.”

“Ya’ were about to lose ya' shit on your father-in-law, and I didn’t precisely fib, just moved a few facts around,” Quinn shoots back, grabbing a bag while Jensen, fuming, retrieves the other, following her to the guest house.

How could the Alpha he considered his father even think, after everything they’d been through, found his dark thoughts distracted by two simultaneous acts; a deflating blow-up bed and his bewildered husband storming in shouting, “What the fuck was that?”

Jensen ticked his head towards the O and made the finger-in-hole gesture.

 “I’ve gotten that shit since I presented,” the pair look towards Quinn with confused expressions. “Loads of Alphas still carry antiquated beliefs about unmated O’s, and I’m…pick an adjective to fill in the blank.”

“So much for a peaceful holiday,” Jensen grumbled.

“Yeah, too bad ya’ boy stuck his nose where it didn’t belong, right?” Quinn's tone was caustic. “I don’t want to be a bone of contention with ya' family. I’ll figure somewhere else to stay.”

Jared’s wolf simmers under his skin, “How? You have $636.96 in your account. That won’t cover a security deposit, let alone fir..” 

“How the fuck ya’ know what’s in my account?!”

“Your laptop was open...”

“...and ya’ snooped...”

“...I happened to see it...”

“...still not your fucking problem...”

“...you’re carrying my..our pups, that makes it my fucking..”

“...ya’ are the most unfucking...”

“I’m tired of y’alls motherfucking bitching, so shut the fuck up!!” 

Jensen wrinkles his nose, “Dude, dial it down; you’re stinking up the joint! And Quinn, Jared screwed up...”

“I never asked...”

“...doesn’t matter! He's trying to make amends, for fuck sake!” Jensen felt the vein in his left temple throbbing again.

“There will be many people dropping in or staying with us this fucking week, and this is how we’re all going to handle our situation.”

🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿

January 15th

“Humph,” Jensen jerked awake, slapping a hand around, and found his phone before cracking an eye open.

7:18 A.M.

Groaning, he dropped face-first into his pillow and wrestled his mates over his head to muffle the noise, but the pearls of his pup's laughter signaled he wouldn’t sleep much longer.

His fuzzy brain's insistence that coffee was more imperative than a shower has Jensen sleepily shuffling around the oversized couches, once again grateful they’d decided to move their bedroom to the main floor, spots the group in the kitchen muttered too damn early.

“That’s a bad word, Daddy,” JJ says, her frown a replica of his, “you owe the swear jar.”

“Your right, Birdie, sorry,” dropping a kiss on top of her and the twins' heads, stepping around them, pouring himself a mug, “remind me to pay it later.” 

Hopping up on the counter, Jensen sips his coffee, savoring the black elixir rolling over his taste buds; he feels the caffeine penetrate his system, working its magic to turn his morning grumpyass into a civilized human watching his brood.

JJ and Arrow are busily festooning Quinn’s long, wonky braided hair with ribbons. Zeppelin and Icarus are sitting on the O’s lap, watching something on his iPad that's precariously balanced against her feet; felt his wolf purr in contentment, starting him when his mate materializes and gives him an odd look.

“Alright, y’all,” hopping off the counter, Jensen scoops up his son and flies him around, making airplane sounds, “Uncle Jeff and Aunt H/W/N will be here soon. What do all of you need to do before going?”

“Brush teeth and hair,” Arrow says, then looks at JJ, “grab our snacks from the fridge,” she reminds her, “and put them into our backpacks.” 

“And do bath break!” Zep giggles as Jensen hands the pup to his mate and quietly says, “I wanna discuss something with Quinn.”

Jared reaches through their bond and finds a placidity in Jensen he hasn’t had for so long, but before he can deduce the causation, he gets distracted by the twins' squeals and escorts the pups upstairs. 

Quinn eyes the older Alpha while securing a hair tie around her long braids, “what the fuck I do this time, Ackles?”

“Jared mentioned something about your leaving..”

“...I know ya' expected me gone before now...”

 “...ya’ know what I expect?” Jensen snaps, mimicking her subtle accent, “I expect you to stop interrupting and let me get something out for fucking once! Now, could we please discuss this without fighting?”

Sitting at the dining room table, she says nothing, watching Jensen refill his coffee, grab another mug, and drops in a spoon of honey before pouring the brewed tea from the kettle, “Ya’ know how I take me tea?”

“I’m not a completely unobservant asshole,” Jensen self-deprecates, “you make a damn good cup of coffee,” he said, carrying both mugs over. “And I’m astonished how you balance everything, working at Emmer and Rye while keeping up with our hectic schedules. And what did you do to Jared?” Quinn looked confused, “you got him to put his wet clothes in the laundry instead of leaving them all over the bath. You’re either a witch or a goddamn miracle worker!”

“I gave him two options. Leave’um in the laundry or find itching powder in his clothing.”

“He’d just borrow my stuff...”

“...he did, once.” 

“So, you?

“Clif said ya’ boy spent the day denying it was jock itch.” 

Jensen was still laughing when the quartet came back downstairs, so Quinn placed both forearms on the table, leaning forward, and spoke softly, “okay, Ackles, the fucks going on with this little tête-à-tête? Cause ya’ been freaked the fuck out the entire time, so,” nodding to her mug, “What’s with the buttering up?”

“It’s about not leaving...”

“Quinns not gonna leave?” Jensen whipped around to find Arrow bouncing excitedly beside him, then she suddenly raced towards the front door, yelling, “Papa Jared, Daddy’s got Quinn to stay with us!”  

Jared stood there scrutinizing the seated duo with an indecipherable expression.

“Looks like ya’ the one dropping me in the shitter this time, Ackles.”

tbc

Part V

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva  @b3autyfuldisast3r  @lassie-bird @nancymcl  @spnbaby-67  @leigh70

Sam/Jared:  @idreamofplaid Dean/Jensen:  @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @akshi8278  @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl @siospins2

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest @ladysparkles78

[seungminhrs]

NAVIGATION - this navigation helps you navigate through my content, including original characters, edits, and resources like gfx. i'm trin, and i've created this safe space for everyone. i'm open to feedback and offer clear guidelines for interacting with my work.

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🌟 hey there, i'm trin. i am 19 years old, my pronouns are she/her, and hail from a mix of greek-south african heritage. i am also a proud pisces and bisexual.

🎡 i am the middle-child, my favourite/lucky number is 13, i speak three languages (english, greek and afrikaans), i really love reading and building lego.

📝 this blog is a safe space. if you ever come across content that doesn't align with this promise, please let me know politely. i'm open to feedback and recognise that i might not always get things right.

🙌 i am not perfect and appreciate it when others kindly correct me. feel free to reach out via ask or dm if you notice anything amiss.

📖 for more details, including DNI rules and additional insights into who i am, i encourage you to check out my longer about section in my carrd. thanks for understanding and joining me on this journey.

all the content, including original characters (ocs), edits, etc., shared on this blog, are copyrighted by me. i don't have any other accounts where i share my writings elsewhere. if you come across similar content or reposts of my work with or without credit, please notify me as i haven't authorised this.

YOU ARE ALLOWED TO:

reblog my works on your blog with or without comments.

create edits based on my edits and original characters, but remember to tag me (@) when you do.

YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO:

repost my works on any other site. using the reblog button on tumblr isn't the same as reposting. if my work is found elsewhere, i will take action.

repost my works on any other site for commercial purposes. without my explicit consent, my work is not to be used for any commercial endeavours.

plagiarise my original characters or writing. if you discover my content posted elsewhere without permission, please inform me. i don't allow this, even with credit.

modify my works with permission. altering or adapting my content in any way, including cropping, editing, or changing the content -, is strictly prohibited without my approval.

translate my works and repost them. i won't give permission for translations or reposts on other sites. any inquiries about this will be ignored or deleted.

use my work for hate speech or offensive purposes. my work is not to be used in any context that promotes hate speech, discrimination, or any other offensive content.

navigation format inspo - @cartierre & @blueprint-han

theme - @seyche

oc list page - @maziekeen

gfx resources page - @enbythemes

psd colouring for icon - @avocadoees

[bumblesimagines]

Hi, I have never actually sent one before, but I really felt like I had to. Sorry if it's weird

Your Under the Moonlight was just truly beautiful, like my Roman Empire beautiful. The detail you put into it, how you wrote from the perspective of the characters with the reader.

It was as if I was experiencing the show again, I was not just reading it, I was experiencing this work. Changing how I saw the shows characters, I first watched Vikings Valhalla, like yeah Harald is a straight man but now? That is a bisexual man who has proudly kissed men.

Like this is art, you created beautiful art, truly wonderful art. I have been able to experience a part of my gender that isn't allowed to me in my real life.

Thank you for your work, I hope you live a happy, healthy life with no problems coming your way. Have a great hiatus, and I hope I'll see you after Vikings Valhalla season three.

🥺🥺🥺

Thank you so so much! I truly love getting asks like this cause they remind me that actual, genuine people read and enjoy my stuff. I'm so glad Under The Moonlight was able to resonate with you!

Sometimes being an author (and creator in general) on platforms such as this one where you're essentially tossing your work out into the void and hoping at least one person sees it can be hard, especially when it comes to smaller fandoms. Comments/asks/reblogs are really what keeps us going, even if the comment/asks if just a simple "I enjoyed reading this". Rest assured to everyone who comments or sends asks, I see what's sent! I mainly don't respond to commemts cause this is a side blog and replies to comments go through on my main blog which can create some confusion.

So, thank you again, Anon! You've made my night so much better. ❤🐝❤

[spanishverse]

　　　　　　　　𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑　( 2025 )　!

───　୨ৎ 　›　𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂　𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎　.　

BIRTH NAME.　atenea de castro vega

NICK NAME.　nea

BIRTHDATE.　february 12 , 1996

GENDER.　female

PRONOUNS.　she / her

SEXUALITY.　bisexual , demisexual

RELATIONSHIP STATUS.　single

ETHNICITY.　spanish / latina

HOMETOWN.　cienfuegos , cuba

RESIDENCE.　madrid , spain / los ángeles , usa / seoul , south korea

───　୨ৎ 　›　𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐄　.　

EYE COLOUR.　hazel brown , green

HAIR COLOUR.　chocolate brown

HEIGHT.　170 cm ( 5′ 7″ ) 

FACECLAIM.ㅤharmonycurls

BODY MODIFICATIONS.　seven ear piercings ( four on the left: double helix , two on the lobe / three on the right: conch , two on the lobe ) , three tattoos

───　୨ৎ 　›　𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘　.　

MBTI.　estj ( 2021 ) esfj ( 2024 )

CHARACTER.　confident ⋆ organized ⋆ passionate ⋆ loyal ⋆ intense ⋆ ambitious ⋆ adaptable ⋆ protective ⋆ charismatic ⋆ detail-oriented

HOBBIES.　reading ⋆ writing ⋆ playing the guitar ⋆ crocheting ⋆ basketball ⋆ photography ⋆ travelling

LIKE.　fantasy novels ⋆ thrillers ⋆ indie bookstores ⋆ cafés ⋆ music ⋆ playing guitar ⋆ traveling ⋆ photography ⋆ basketball ⋆ deep conversations ⋆ film cameras ⋆ creating stories

DISLIKE.　unfinished stories ⋆ stereotypes ⋆ disorganization ⋆ flaky people ⋆ creative stagnation ⋆ overly sweet coffee ⋆ wasted time ⋆ lack of closure ⋆ surface-level conversations ⋆ slow internet

───　୨ৎ 　›　𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒　.　

SPANISH.　madrilenian / cuban accent ⋆ mother tongue

ENGLISH.　american accent ⋆ fluent

ITALIAN.　native accent ⋆ meneghin dialect , b2 level

ARABIC.　spanish accent ⋆ qatar dialect , a2 level

KOREAN.　spanish accent ⋆ gyeonggi dialect , a2 level

───　୨ৎ 　›　𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐑　.　

OCCUPATION.　novelist , screenplay writer , producer

PEN NAME (PSEUDONYM).　helen fort

PERIOD.　2021—present ( 4 years )

DEBUT.　june 19, 2021

GENRES.　young adult fiction ⋆ fantasy ⋆ science fiction

NOTABLE WORKS (NOVELS).　if we were villains ⋆ six of crows duology (in grishaverse collab with leigh bardugo) ⋆ the naturals series ⋆ the inheritance games series

NOTABLE WORKS (SCREENPLAY).　percy jackson and the olympians , shadow and bone

───　୨ৎ 　›　𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀　.　

switching between two cities while growing up shaped her into an adaptable and culturally rich person. she effortlessly switches between english and spanish, and usually her cuban accent slips through when she’s excited or emotional.

she is very privileged and sometimes she is not aware that not everyone has had the same opportunities as she has, but she tries hard every day to correct herself and to be considered.

she started writing stories as a child, inspired by fantasy novels like harry potter and percy jackson. by the time she was a teenager, she was already crafting intricate plots and morally complex characters, leading to her career as a young adult and fantasy writer.

basketball was a big part of her childhood, and she tries to practise regularly. she used to write in the margins of her notebook during her cousin's games while waiting for him to sub in.

she met miguel in high school, both from madrid, when she asked her parents to spend her adolescence in a public school instead of a private one. the two clashed from the beginning, but they ended up settling their differences. now they are like siblings.

she’s been an avid traveler since her early 20s, often taking spontaneous trips to new cities just for inspiration. she keeps a scrapbook filled with polaroids and handwritten notes from every place she visits.

she learned to play the guitar as a teenager and uses it as a way to unwind. she often composes melodies with noa's help that allows her to set the tone for certain book scenes, and her playlists are as detailed as her writing.

crocheting became a passion project during a particularly bad creative slump. what started as a way to clear her mind turned into a hobby where she now gifts handmade pieces to her friends and occasionally posts her work online.

she learned to cook thanks to miguel's mother, after she convinced her parents to hire her as a cook. she had always wanted to be independent enough not to need anyone's help, but rosa cooks so well that athena swallowed her pride to ask her to teach her to be as good as she is.

she’s known for being extremely organized, almost to the point of obsession. her workspace is always tidy, her notebooks color-coded, and she has detailed outlines for every novel she writes.

despite her structured nature, she has a deeply sentimental side. she collects letters, concert tickets, and little trinkets from important moments in her life, keeping them in a memory box.

she dislikes unfinished stories—whether it’s a book, a tv show, or a personal project. she needs closure, and unresolved endings haunt her.

(　🏛️　)　BACK TO CHARACTERS　:　GO TO MASTER LIST .

[0ddprophet]

#0DDPROPHET writing blog for john michael sanders, a sole cult survivor original character. highly selective & private. minors dni. primarily runs on queue due to work schedule. loved by billie ( 33 . est. ) this blog will contain triggering content and spoilers . 21+ preferred . minors do not interact . established 2022. follows back from hangtenn.

open starters./ headcanons / verses./prompts. / board.

affiliated with; @hangtenn, @guardiandem0n also found at: lennon. mapplethorpe .gareth. april. gonzo. marko. siohban.

INFO / STATS UNDERCUT.

01. first things first, good ole' jm is my own creation, but i certainly don't know a.ndrew v/anwyngarden ( even though i wish i did )! i added him onto my multi fuckingvictus about four years ago and i've missed him so much! he had always been one of my favorite little weird guys. all his lore and what not have been created by myself. he's also entwined with my original character lennon mathews over on hangtenn. they're exes and good friends. whilst i have his stats under cut here, i also highly recommend you peak at his headcanon tag before interaction since i have a lot of info on the moonstone cult there.

02. drama is not my thing. i avoid it in real life and you best believe i’m going to avoid it online, being that this is my hobby. i wont reblog callouts, but will read them. i’ll only reblog if the person is incredibly dangerous to make my followers be aware. no gross behavior with minor muses, either, thanks. don’t be transphobic, genderbend, whitewash, don’t be a racist asshole, don’t support n*zi imagery, don’t be a fucking dickhead. 

03. oooooh i do love shipping! though, i do prefer a little bit of plotting beforehand. i think it’s very important to build a relationship ooc as well. i’m more comfortable to ship if we talk a little ooc.

04. i’m billie! i’ve thirty three years old and i’ve been apart of the rpc since late 2010. i’m an old lady. i’ve been around the block a few times. i work full time overnight ( twelve hour shifts ) at hospital & i have a lot of social obligations so i’m primarily mobile. most of my replies will be posted by queue due to this. my reply speed is slow and whilst i post a lot of ooc posts while at work & what not, it may sometimes take me a few days or even weeks to reply to a thread. patience is key! this is something i do whenever i want to destress and have fun.

STATS

Full Name: john-michael dusk sanders

Pronunciation: JHaaNMAY-KahL duhsk san-drz

Nickname/Alias: JM, dusk, matthew bryers. 

Gender: nonbinary. 

Orientation: bisexual

Real Age: thirty two

Age Appearance: looks a bit younger than he actually is. extremely babyfaced. mistaken for being 21-24 years old. 

Birthday: december 8th, 1992

Deathday: only time will tell.

Birthplace: santa rosa, new mexico

Zodiac Sign: sagittarius 

Immediate Family: brody “bear” sanders ( father - deceased  ), mary “haze” mathias ( mother - deceased. ), moody sanders ( older sister - deceased. ), jeremiah “jerry” sanders ( younger brother - deceased. ), caroline “carebear” sanders ( younger sister - deceased. ), many half siblings from his father’s side. 

Parenting: his father was rather distant and occasionally mentally abusive with all the children of the compound. his mother was a little distance, especially after having jerry and carebear but she tried her best. everyone in the community had a hand in raising the children. it was a group effort. 

Species: human

Ethnicity: caucasian

Blood Type: o negative

Preferred Hand: ambidextrous

Eye Color: green

Hair Color dirty blonde

Hairstyle: kept long and shaggy. usually down to his shoulders. very curly. 

Body Type: ectomorph 

Build: rather slim and scrawny in appearance but does have a lot of muscle tone. 

Height: 6'3"

Birthmarks/scars: cigarette burns on the inside of his thighs & forearms from self harm in the past. 

Distinguishing Features: his bright green eyes, his curly hair and his height.

Health: has a weak immune system but tries to take care of himself. 

Energy: the is actually full of energy and it comes out whenever it’s necessary.

Memory: selective memory, he only wants to remember things he wants to remember.

Senses: his senses are very heightened and he’s always aware of his surroundings.

Allergies: as seasonal allergies 

Handicaps: has a heart murmur.

Medication: lexapro for anxiety ( PTSD. ), trazodone for sleep.

Phobias: losing people hence why he has a hard time building relationships, death, spiders.

Addictions: alcohol & drug use. 

Mental Disorders: post traumatic stress disorder, severe anxiety disorder

Style: enjoys wearing flowy clothes that hang off him loosely. leggings & tight jeans are a must. usually wearing a headband or a beanie. not unheard of to wear dresses and skirts. 

Posture: usually slouches due to height. 

Gait: smooth, long strides. 

Habits and Mannerisms: running fingers through his hair,, tapping his fingers on any surface nearby, tapping his foot on the ground, always taking in his surroundings and never seem to be paying attention even though he is. 

Scent: patchouli & orange.

Mood: high-strung. 

Attitude: depends on the situation. normally he’s very kind & keeps to himself but sometimes he can be quite loud & obnoxious. 

Stability: he’s trying his best. he was found tied to a chair surrounded by his friends & families corpses so—….you fill in the blanks. 

Expressiveness: he’s extremely expressive. if he doesn’t show it in his face, it’s probably in his eyes.

Current Residence: denver, colorado

Family: none currently, their all dead.

Pets/Familiars: a stray cat he took in named momo. 

Marital Status: single.

Sex Life: his sex life is pretty booming considering he sometimes sleeps with people for a place to stay since he’s in and out of places a lot. he uses sex as a coping mechanism.

Element: fire

Occupation: once was a heir to the moonstone family but now he’s a stocker at a grocery store.

Religion: spiritualist, pagan. 

Morals: moral compass is pretty WOBBLY. though he does have good intentions, he’s still learning how things work.

Crime Record: doesn’t have the best reaction to authority. can be seen as sarcastic and “snarky” towards those in authority. has been arrested for drugs on many occasions as well as under the influence in public. 

Motivation: he’s very motivated to fit into society so that’s good.

Hobbies/Interests: playing music specifically guitar as well as singing. he also loves tending to a garden and has quite the knack for it. loves taking care of things. listening to music, smoking weed, drinking beer and meeting new peiople.

Likes: music from the 60s - 80s period, has been exploring new music and has found the new age music to hit a chord, loves trying different beers ( yes, he’s a craft beer guy. ), learning about the world. 

Dislikes:  people learning about his history without his consent, thinking about his life prior, classical music, spiders.

Sense of Humor: he knows a lot about memes and makes a lot of vine references, all and all a great sense of humor.

Quirks: tapping fingers on any surface close by,, he’s always pacing and has a hard time sitting down for long.

Strengths: smart, deep, honest, caring and wild.

Flaws:  impatient, careless, boastful, attention seeking and brutal.

Perception: he tries to see everything in a form of light & love but is learning quickly it’s hard to be that way.

Favorite Colors: yellow, seafoam  green & red.

Favorite Animals: cats and dogs equally!

Favorite Places: his former home still holds dear to him but he’s learning to find a new home.

Favorite Foods: baked mac n’ cheese, saltine crackers with peanut butter.

Favorite Drinks: milk, lemonade and craft beer. 

Favorite Genre: classic rock.

Favorite Bands: the beatles, pink floyd, metallica, ac/dc, lep zeppelin, the rolling stones, red hot chili peppers, the smiths, the eagles, etc.

Favorite Sports: ice hockey

Languages: english, spanish 

Accent: heavy southern accent 

Reputation: a guy who’s just trying to live after everything he knew was destroyed around him and seeing his loved ones all pass.

Self-Impression: jm is doing his best to mesh with real time whenever he grew up in a cult. he gives himself high hopes but he’s struggling so a part of him things he should have died with everyone else.

MBTI Personality Type: estp

Temperament: choleric

Enneagram: the entrepreneur

[feywildfancypants]

Death by Currently Reading 5/40: March by John Lewis, Andrew Aydin, and Nate Powell

Rating: 10, personal favorite

I finished book three of this trilogy graphic novel. It follows John Lewis from his youth in rural Alabama to the 1965 Voting Rights Act. He was a champion of nonviolent protest, despite all the violence that was levied against African Americans throughout United States History.

This book hit me pretty hard, so I’m about to go on a monologue. If you’re not up for that, feel free to tap out now. Otherwise, buckle in.

It took me several years to get through all three books. When I started I was still in the stage of my life where my bubble was popping. I was just starting to understand how whitewashed the history I was taught had been. Reading about what a nonviolent movement truly meant was deeply unsettling to me. I, of course, had learned about the Civil Rights Movement, about sit ins and marches, and about prominent figures in the fight for African American liberation. What I was often not taught was the amount of violence and vitriol they faced. Like most kids who were taught American Exceptionalism, I didn’t want to believe that this is the history I come from. It was another painful shattering of my worldview, because I knew it was bad but I hadn’t realized it was that bad.

This is history we have to engage with. We have to remember it was that bad. We have to fight to make sure we don’t ever go back.

The third book hit differently as I was finishing it right after the 2024 election. The most shocking thing for me after the election is the gaping chasm between people who voted differently. Not in their political views, but what they consider themselves to have been voting for.

I am among the people who spent the following day in a silent daze, worrying endlessly what this meant for my life and the life of my friends. I am afraid of people losing housing, medical care, jobs, access to education, parental rights, citizenship. I was horrified. I was also surrounded by people who were continuing their life, business as usual. For them it was just another day, just another election, because what does a President honestly change about their day to day lives?

They thought they voted for the chance at a better economy, perhaps more safety. Many of the rest of us thought we were voting for our lives. And now you have to sort of fish for which response you’re going to get. If I mention that I’m scared are you going to go “Oh thank god, me too” or are you going to go “Why the fuck would you be scared?”

And as frustrating as it is to be met with confusion when I’m struggling with grief and fear, few of those people are evil or have ill intentions. They just don’t know. (That doesn't go for everyone. Fuck nazis and klansmen)

For anyone out there banging their head against the wall saying ‘how the fuck could they not know?’ — They truly don’t. It took me 24 years to break out of the comfortable bubble of ignorance, and that was only because I was trans and bisexual and neurodivergent and trying to squeeze myself into their bubble was killing me. It was so painful to exist that I had to leave. For anyone who is comfortable there… it could take a whole life to get out of it. And many never do.

I want to show them this book and remind them that they would have been on the side of the people pouring coffee over the heads of peaceful protestors. And if they aren’t careful now, they are going to be on the side of people banning books, controlling people’s bodies, condemning disabled people, separating families. I want everyone to read this book, but even if they did, I know not everyone will listen.

I haven’t fully figured out the right way to talk to people about all this. I did leave a toxic community, one that I tried to speak up in and not only lost any respect and power I had to create change, but also blew up a lot of people lives in the process. I know that leaving didn’t do shit. They are still there, still toxic, and now with no one to offer a dissenting opinion. I also know that staying wasn’t helping. Those that would listen left with me, and my mental health wasn’t going to hold out under the barrage. So what is the correct answer in that? I don’t know.

Anyway. Keep reading. Stay mad. Get organized. Build your community up anyway you can. Know that this fight isn’t new, it has been carried on by many people before us. We owe it to them to learn their stories, learn from their lives, and carry on the torch in hope of a better tomorrow.