#father son and step dad are all ace because i say so <3 and because its funny

[artisadie]

I’ve been thinking about aroace ginga recently........ my boy.... I just like the thought of this really friendly dude who’s so willing to be pals with almost anyone being so generally uninterested. Interviewers/paparazzi are always asking him if hes together with one of his friends (it cycles lol) and hes just like “Thats Literally Just A Picture Of Us Getting Lunch, why are you asking me that what”

Also idk he just seems like a chocolate marshmallow enjoyer :) probably in a waffle cone

[italoniponic]

can you write something for malleus and/or silver x reader? (separately)

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

| Notes: Hi, anon!

Okay, so I made these bc I actually reused an old idea I had for Silver and made a version for Malleus as well. This is not a scolding but next time, I would prefer a more detailed idea. It was just that I really wanted to write something for Silver and I had a plot in hand. Don’t be afraid of suggesting something you want (as long as it is within the rules), it’s more likely for me to write this way. Then again, this isn’t a scolding, I’m just making that clear

But, as for the idea: I thought about how Silver wouldn’t even think about saying “I love you” suddenly, even inside the school to the reader and just as he walks away, the reader is a completely flustered mess. And Malleus proved himself to also be great for this lol I hope this is good enough and you like it, anon~

Thanks for the request <3 |

Silver, Malleus Draconia x gender neutral reader / headcanons / fluff / true love conquers all / use of “you” pronouns

Cherry’s Harvesting event 🍒 Masterlist

It Just Slipped

Silver prepared himself for many things in his life, both to be a good guard for Malleus and to be an exemplary son for Lilia. Everything he did always involved people he loved and had a unique bond, like a family. But he wasn't fully prepared to be a boyfriend — a normal one, at least;

You have become a close person to Silver. One more that he cherishes and wants to protect, perhaps even more than others. That's what it means to love someone, isn't it? Love and protect. Silver's heart gets lighter every time he meets you. Whenever he can, he tries to at least greet you and wave;

It's his simple way of saying that he cares and acknowledges your presence anywhere. Silver is caring, grateful for all the good things you do for him and the love you give. And “grateful” is in the sense that he really thanks you when you help him. This might be for be raised by Lilia and because he saw how Sebek's siblings thanked their parents, so Silver thanks and always says that he loves you;

Which you find very cute, even more so for the way he mutters these words while waking up after you found him sleeping around. Or sometimes when you give him a snack he was in need of after a hard day of training or when you fix his hair. Little things like that. You just hadn't imagined it was for every little thing…;

“Good luck in potions class. Yeah, I'll try not to sleep too,” Silver nodded when you joked about it. “See you later, I love you.” And so, Silver made his way down the hall and left you standing there with your friends and a lot of other students looking at you. Did Silver’s voice sound too loud or was it just an impression? Or has no one ever seen a couple say goodbye before?;

Your face was hot the entire class and you avoided Ace, Deuce and Grim’s gazes the entire time. Silver’s sweet, caring words, spoken with ease and comfort, echoed in your mind as if to comfort you and remind you that you would soon meet again. Because you just wanted to hide behind him at that moment;

Silver didn’t realize any time what he had caused and you decided not to say anything. It wasn't like it was something bad or that you didn't like. Sure, your friends’ teasing comes and goes but that was no reason for you to ask Silver not to do that anymore. Even because this kind of thing is a habit and made you feel included in his life, as if you were always there;

And the next day, you witnessed something very similar happen between Silver and Lilia. He almost said “okay, love you, dad” when Lilia returned the book he forgot but you stepped in between to interrupt the situation. “Silver! Lilia! What a coincidence to find you here!,” your loud voice drowned out your boyfriend's words of affection to his father;

This time, Silver realized what you did and his face was brushed by a pale, gentle pink — which squeezed your heart for being such a beautiful sight. Silver wondered if he should control himself more before he accidentally tell someone that Lilia is his “old man” but you said it was okay for him to say goodbye to you like that. Your own face would envy many red roses;

Well, given your official permission, Silver fulfills it with more vigor and attention than before. Sometimes you can even reply back, but other times you faint at how fast your heart beats every time Silver says he loves you. At least, Jack has gone on to pull Ace and Grim's ear every time they laugh at you;

It isn’t even the most elaborate “I love you” that makes you lose your posture, but the simple and full of importance tone that Silver's voice puts in such small words. Is your boyfriend an angel? You don't know. At least, Silver sleeps like one anywhere. But every time you carry him to a more comfortable place, he always thanks you with a beautiful smile.

It's no surprise to you that Malleus understands what dating is just as much as he understands humans. More literally than you might think, all he knows about both things were from some books in his castle and others that Lilia brought — or other people's stories he heard. But you already knew that;

However, one beautiful thing Malleus has seen humans do a few times between family members and couples — and this Lilia ended up reproducing at home with Silver — is how people say goodbye with an “I love you” at the end. Such a simple and banal gesture but full of meaning. Something he always wanted to do but never had the courage to;

Now, if the two of you were together, Malleus should absolutely do it. It's something he feels is necessary. Not because it's mandatory, but because it's a gentle affirmation of his feelings and how much he cares about you. He just waited for the right moment to do it for the first time;

The lunch time had come and you bought a small jar of ice cream especially for Malleus. You walked up to the Diasomnia table and handed it to him, even though you weren't going to have lunch with them that day — Malleus insisted that you have a few moments with your friends, as part of the human experience. Upon receiving such a delicate gift, Malleus stood up and thanked;

“Have a nice lunch with your companions! See you later. I love you,” Malleus nodded and sat back down, concentrating on opening that little jar of ice cream you so carinly bought for him. He just didn't notice how his farewell reverberated through the cafeteria and you froze for a moment where you were, before slowly walking out of there, dazed;

No one dared comment on anything, not even the Savanaclaw bullies who were always complaining about anything anyone from Diasomnia — Malleus, of course, included — did. But everyone followed you with their gaze until you reached the first year’s table, where silence died with Grim saying: “What does he mean with ‘your companions’? I'm the real boss here!”;

You kept thinking about that for a long time and Malleus kept saying goodbye to you while adding how he loved you. Sometimes he even measured how much he loved you and other times, it was an abbreviated “...love you!” that Lilia taught him to use. It was amazing how Malleus managed to be cute beyond your expectations;

And really, Malleus didn't seem to care or be aware of what he provoked — what was about saying “I love you” to someone you love? When you passed by, some of the students looked at you with admiration, as if you were a dragon slayer and had tamed one. Others felt flustered and a bit envy;

A little more complicated than that was hearing Sebek saying he wanted to hear this farewell from Malleus at all costs and after that, having to hear Malleus himself consider an appropriate time to begin treating his three longtime friends — his special family — in a caring manner. In the end, you brought everyone together in a big family therapy and you stipulated that this would be only done in the Valley of Thorns;

Lilia made a subtle comment about this meaning you would live with them in the future and you smiled slightly, trying to disguise your blush as you were waking Silver up who was sleeping peacefully on the couch’s arm — he had agreed in advance to whatever solution you all came up with. Malleus said nothing, but he was also smiling, daydreaming;

There came a time when you went on to replicate Malleus's goodbyes with the same “I love you” from him and each time seemed to cause a light summer rain over the school fields. A drizzle so gentle that it produced the most beautiful of dews. As if Malleus needed more reasons to love you and be happy with your company.

[cripplingaddictions]

How the Haikyuu guys sleep

Genre: fluff I guess

Warnings: half x reader half general headcanons idk what I was trying to write

A/N: this may crush some dreams, sorry

Karasuno:

Daichi: he snores like a dad I’m sorry, you can’t get a full night’s sleep when he snores in your ear like that. Stiff cuddler - you see the way he lies. He’s like a log

Suga: doesn’t snore but he whispers in his sleep, you have no idea what he’s saying because it’s very soft. He smells nice so his pillow always smells astronomically good. Cradles you like a baby if you have trouble sleeping. Wakes you up with tickles

Asahi: a soft snorer but he does that thing where he breathes in and chokes on his spit and ends up sputtering everywhere 😭 Latches onto your arm and his hair always gets in his way somehow

Tanaka: he grumbles?? like a bear?? Kind of like talking in his sleep but it’s really aggressive for some reason?? His bedsheets haven’t been washed in years

Nishinoya: you can’t even find his bed because it is so covered in clothes and other rubbish. He has to be a sleepwalker, come on. You’ll find him curled up in one of the kitchen cabinets in the morning

Ennoshita: loves setting the atmosphere with scented candles before blowing them out to go to sleep to the nice smell (has definitely forgotten to blow them out and almost started a house fire) Good cuddles, soft, very nice 👍

Kageyama: sleeps with his back turned to you and falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. He just says “goodnight” rolls over and “😑” Wakes up way too early for practise or to go for a run

Hinata: has a smile on his face when he sleeps!! vv cute!! Curls into the tiniest ball too!! vv tiny!! You have to be the big spoon, I don’t make the rules. Probably hugs his pillow or a volleyball

Yamaguchi: bright red if you’re sharing the bed with him 🥺 probably doesn’t sleep for ages because he’s so nervous. I don’t know why but I feel that he needs to have like a hot chocolate or tea before bed

Tsukishima: sleeps with his headphones on and listens to music. Either that or he needs white noise. Sleeps like a pole, the only way you are getting cuddles is if you hug him 💀

Nekoma:

Kuroo: we all know he sleeps on his stomach with his head squished between two pillows. Don’t know how he breathes but ok. Latches you to him with one arm and strokes your hair. Ceo of breakfast in bed the next morning, with his cat/s of course 

Kenma: he doesn’t sleep

Lev: your blanket is his now 🙃 and his legs get in the way, you might even get kicked in the face. Other than that, I feel like he’s a really pretty sleeper. The blankets all are a mess and his limbs are everywhere but his face is really pretty

Yaku: finds it hard to sleep because he’s so stressed because of Lev. Needs warm milk to fall asleep and the conditions need to be just right. Help him meditate a bit and relax him then he’ll give you some nice cuddles

Yamamoto: just like Tanaka he grumbles in his sleep and has really crusty sheets. He doesn’t cuddle you, you’d have to fight his waifu body pillow to earn cuddle rights and establish dominance

Aoba Johsai:

Oikawa: fakes snoring softly because he likes you’ll find it cute, it’s annoying. It used to be that overdramatic whistling exhale but now its real. Immaculate cuddler tho, definitely gives you a shirt of his to wear to bed

Iwaizumi: he sweats so much in his sleep... it’s gross. Mucks around with the temperature of the ac way too much because he gets too hot. Then he gets too cold, you get it. Strong arms to cuddle with, only if he used them

Matsukawa: definitely snores, but not as dad-like like Daichi. Is the type to stick one leg out of the covers to keep his body temperature just right. That leg is used to hug yours when you two cuddle

Hanamaki: sleeps naked,, kind of uncomfy if you’re in there as well. Luckily he sleeps fairly still so that he isn’t flinging his stuff all over you if you get what a mean 😬

Kyotani: you’d think he’d be another growler, but he’s dead silent. If you didn’t sleep with your head on his chest to hear his heartbeat you’d think he was dead. Also a pretty sleeper, idky but I think he’s pretty 👉👈

Fukurodani:

Bokuto: it’s canon that this baby sleeps with the biggest smile on his face (like owl father like crow son) Hoots in his sleep!!! Inhales deeply and exhales like “hoooot~”. Biggest cuddle bug, please hold him close to your chest

Akaashi: ceo of pretty sleepers right here. Always reads before bed and sometimes gets lost in the pages that you fall asleep on his lap. That’s when he turns off the lamp. Loves playing with your hair or having you play with his

Konoha: keeps his window open to sleep, he likes the natural breeze. I reckon he’d get a little annoyed if you were a clingy sleeper because he likes his own space

Shiratorizawa:

Ushijima: canon that he sleeps with a volleyball on his bed. Definitely sleeps like a brick wall (to match his personality) but anyways. Thinks that bed is for sleeping, doesn't get why you want to cuddle him

Tendo: sleeps with his eyes open- I’m kidding that’d be terrifying. Sleeps with Pokemon plushies like the cutie he is 🥺 Hugs you with all his might the entire night, the plushies between you, arghhh he’s so cute. Please tell him he’s beautiful before he falls asleep, he’ll be in such a good mood the next day

Semi: sleeping playlists, one for every night of the week. Plays it all night and has his morning one queued up for you to wake up to. Also a very pretty sleeper with the best smelling sheets

Goshiki: restless sleep-talker. Rolls about, snores - when he’s not snoring he’s monologuing whatever is in his dream. Tiny spoon, not little spoon, tiny spoon, hug him

Inarizaki:

Atsumu: menace. Literally argues with Osamu in his sleep, even acts it out. Blanket stealer, but has to dramatically tug it off you to emphasise his argument you’re hearing every word of 🙄 Genuinely doesn’t know that he does it

Osamu: as quiet and brilliant of a sleeper he is, with the softest cuddles, the best part is how he wakes you up. Soft kisses, soft sunlight, and his cooking. Definitely insists that you wear one of his jumpers to bed

Aran: perfect man, soft as a teddy bear. Bit of a snorer though, but is trying to fix it because he thinks it bothers you. Like I said: perfect man. Big strong arms to hold you in

Suna: enjoys cuddles the most I reckon, he finds it comforting. A spinet sleeper also, but his breathing pattern is really nice to fall asleep to. instead of a pretty sleeper, he somehow is a hot sleeper

Kita: because of how much he values the process, his bed is so neat and perfect. The type to flip his pillow to the cold side. Plays a rainy-day podcast, and has ambient lighting. So relaxing to share a bed with, honestly

Date Tech:

Aone: soft boy, teddy bear. Very awkward at first but be patient with him please😇. Large bed for a large boy, plenty of space. But he tends to stay in one place holding you so softly like he could break you

Koganegawa: he’s such an inviting sleeper, I can’t describe it. He looks so cozy and happy that you just want to join him, ya know? Talks in his sleep too, but he says stuff like “can I be your friend?” and “you’re so cool”

Other Teams:

Sakusa: his bed is perfect, clean sheets every single night, especially if you’re sharing with him. Fifty-step skincare routine he does before bed. Let’s say he’s comfortable enough to cuddle you, he cradles the back of your head. Also loves to sleep on your chest and have you rake your nails along his spine 🙈

Terushima: another hot sleeper, great cuddles too. I feel that he parties a lot so he doesn’t sleep until 2 or 3 am when he’s not because he’s ruined his sleep schedule 

Hoshiumi: aggressive cuddler. Will hug you so tight. Sleeps halfway down the bed in a little ball surrounded by pillows. Coos like a bird, but he does that aggressively too

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 4 – Acing the Test by Not Preparing Properly    

Chapter 1     Chapter 3

“Are you under the impression the third test might give you a different result?” Adrien asked with a strained amusement.

“We’ve seen stranger things,” Marinette spared a glance from the test on the counter in front of her to glare at him.  “And if I was in any way lucky,” this time she glared at Tikki who shrunk away behind Adrien while Plagg cackled at her, “it would.”

She returned her attention to the test only to give an aggravated yell.  “Son of a bitch!”  She grabbed the edge of the bathroom counter to support her as she folded over gasping for breath.

Adrien nodded thoughtfully. “It might be.”

She turned her head to glare at him.  “Are you kidding me!  Really?” He gave her a sheepish shrug even as he grimaced.  She groaned and collapsed on the floor, leaning against the wall and pulling her knees into her chest.  The distant thought occurred to her that she wasn’t going to be able to do that for much longer.  She wasn’t going to be able to do a lot of things for much longer.  God, how could she be so stupid.  She pulled her hair in frustration.

She was just starting up her business.  She had just entered into a partnership that was supposed to last at least two years. How was she going to manage the project if she was throwing up and had to take months off to take care of the baby? What if there were complications? How was she going to take care of the baby?  How was she going to support a baby if her business failed?  But how was her business going to succeed if she was focusing on making sure her baby had the attention they deserved.

She was broken from her spiraling thoughts by a weight across her shoulders.  She turned her head, still letting it rest on her knees, to look at Adrien.  He reached over to wipe away the tears she only then realized she had been crying. “It’ll be okay, Bugaboo.  There are options if you don’t want the baby and if you do, there are options.”

She gave him a weak smile, keeping her head on her knees for a few more moments before switching to lay her head on his shoulder.  “How am I supposed to get my company up and running and raise a baby on my own?  It takes so much time, both of them.  I’m half a world away from my family and most of our friends, fresh out of school, starting a business, entering a new partnership, which might get reneged if I can’t fulfill the requirements, and all alone. How do I do this?”

Adrien hugged her closer. “You’re not alone, Princess.  I’ll be right by you every step of the way. Even when you tell your parents.”

She gave a halfhearted laugh. “Yeah, that’s going to be a bloodbath.”

Adrien rested his head on hers.  “No it won’t. Do you have any idea how excited your Dad is going to be about being a grandfather?  They’re going to be worried about you.  They’ll have the same concerns for you that you do.  They won’t be mad.”

“The father might be,” she hedged.

Adrien was silent for a moment.  “You’re going to tell him?”

“I think he deserves to know. This baby might have a loving family nearby.  I don’t want to take that away if it is available.”  Her voice was starting to get stronger.  This was a decision she could control.  She could control whether she invited the father to be a part of their lives.  She couldn’t control his answer, but she could control the ask.

“You’re not worried about the weapons?” Adrien asked carefully.

“I am.  But Tikki is right, it could be an innocent explanation. I owe it to him to have the chance to explain.”

Adrien nodded, determination settling in his eyes.  “Okay, we tell him.”

“We?” she asked with an amused smile.

“We,” he confirmed.  “I said you weren’t going to do this alone. I meant it.  I’ll be there to support you.  I’ll help you find him and stay nearby when you tell him, if you want me to.”  He squeezed her again.  “So, what do you remember about where he lives?”

“It had a kitchen with weapons, a living room with a comfortable couch, and a bedroom with a bed that didn’t squeak,” she deadpanned.

He shot her a playful glare. “You can’t remember anything?”

“I remember… it was a door in the middle of a long corridor of doors on a floor a few floors up in a building in Gotham.”

“Oh that’s helpful.”

“I don’t know!” She threw her hands up in exasperation.  “I was still drunk and panicked and swung away as Ladybug so I don’t even have stores I passed to go off of.”

“What do you remember, for real this time?”

She turned to stare at a point in the distance, trying to focus her mind and order her thoughts. What did she remember?  Not much.  She had flashes.  She remembered the feelings he stirred in her.  She smiled nostalgically as she described her memories.  “A smile, a touch, his eyes looking soft and sweet. The feeling of being watched out for, of being wanted, more than just physically.”

Adrien gave a long suffering sigh and collapsed his legs to the bathroom floor.  “Well that’s helpful to track him down.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and pushed him away.  “You asked what I remembered.  I didn’t even remember his name on my own.”  She groaned and hit her head against the wall behind her.  “Why did you let me go home with him?  You were supposed to be my voice of reason!”

“You said you were sure. You said it was cosmic intervention… I think.”  He rubbed his head as phantom pains returned.  “You remember more about that night than I do.”

She groaned again, this one taking a whinier tone than the previous groans.  “That was the sixth drink and eighth shot talking.”

“Well your eighth shot was very convincing to my ninth shot.”

“And how could I have not used a condom?  I couldn’t possibly have been that far gone that I didn’t demand protection.  Could he…” her body stilled, her mind froze as a horrifying thought occurred to her, “…could he have not used one?  And said he did?”

Adrien grimaced.  “Or he was drunk and thought he did.  Or thought you said not to.  Not that you did!  Just that he was really drunk and misinterpreted!” He rushed to add upon seeing her reaction to the suggestion.

“No, you used a condom,” Tikki offered quietly.  “Just not the whole time.”

Marinette’s head whipped to her.  “Okay, first, ew!  Why do you know that!  Were you watching?”

“No!” Tikki exclaimed indignantly.  “But voices carry, especially when they are very loud.” She gave Marinette a pointed look.

Marinette eyed her suspiciously but continued, “Second, what does that mean?”

Tikki sighed dejectedly. “It means you did stuff before you put it on.  And if you’re particularly lucky, that’s enough.”

“Oh my God,” Adrien muttered absentmindedly.

“Oh my God!” Marinette yelled, realization setting in.

“Yeah, I bet Tikki heard that a lot that night too,” Plagg cackled.

All three eyes shot to him in a glare that did nothing to diminish his laughter.

“You mean I’m pregnant because I’m Ladybug?  Because I was wearing the earrings?” Marinette whisper screeched.

“Not… entirely… but, it influenced it.  You’re the wielder of Creation.  It’s going to increase your chances of the right things happening in the right order to create life.  But you two are the ones who didn’t wear a condom for the whole act, allowing semen to be present and you two are the ones who gave each other multiple orgasms, which helped move the semen into the right position.  You very much could have gotten pregnant without any miraculous intervention.”

Marinette’s mouth hung open and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.  “Multiple orgasms, huh?” Adrien asked waggling his eyebrows.

“Judging by the screaming, I’d say both of them were highly proficient,” Tikki nodded in confirmation.

“Oh my God,” Marinette whispered into her hands covering her face.  “This is a nightmare.  Not only am I pregnant, I have to hear this.  I cannot get a break.”

Adrien shrugged.  “It could be worse.  It could have been bad.”

“It doesn’t really matter if I couldn’t remember it,” Marinette pointed out.

“Yeah, but next time you’ll remember it,” he pointed out.

“If there is a next time,” Marinette sighed.

“There will be,” Adrien reassured her.  “It was cosmic intervention.  It will bring you back together again.”

Marinette shook her head and rested it on his shoulder with her eyes closed.  “I wish I was as optimistic as you.”

“It will all work out eventually.  Until then, you have commissions to finish before the gala, including your dress. You need to look impeccable so we can network for your company.”

Marinette groaned and dropped her legs to the ground.  “Can’t I just fall apart for one minute, please?”

“Nope.  You need to get back to work doing something you love and can focus on.  If it happens to be something that calms you as well?  Well that’s just good for you and the baby.  Come on,” he stood up and offered her his hand to help her up, “you start working and I’ll go out and get some pregnancy supplies for you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I think you’re more excited about this than I am.”

“You’re going to have a baby! You have a little bug in the oven! If you don’t break it to your dad with a pun, he and I will be so disappointed,” he gave her a mock stern look before pulling her into a comforting embrace.  “You’re going to be ecstatic about this, too, once the shock wears off.  I know you and I know you’re going to be an amazing mom,” he whispered with a kiss to the top of her head.  “And I’m going to be the fun uncle that he, she, or they gets really excited to hang out with and takes them for ice cream and he comes to whenever she has problems they can’t go to you about.” He gave her an excited smile as he thought about the future.

“Now move.  The gala’s coming up in just a few weeks and you have a ton of work to finish and you’re going to be panicking about letting Tim down and you’re not going to be able to chug coffee and energy drinks anymore.”  

Marinette emitted a woeful, agonized moan that even the neighbors heard.

Chapter 5

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness

[karasunology]

⸙ ˚₊ ➷ BOKUTO KOUTARO BEING A DAD HEADCANONS! ❞

✎ . . . will you please write about oikawa, bokuto, and sugawara as dads?? :>

❝ ― submitted by @ nonnie <3 ❞

-ˏˋ ➶ character(s) ━ bokuto koutaro <3

[ trigger warnings ━ slight manga spoilers !! ]

✎ . . . DAD HEADCANONS.

[ SUGAWARA KOUSHI & OIKAWA VERSION. ] [ MIYA ATUSMU VERSION. ] [ KUROO TETSURO & KOZUKE KENMA VERSION. ] [ IWAIZUMI HAJIME VERSION. ]

-ˏˋ playing soleil's tape ˊˎ-

[ 📼 ] . . . no thoughts, head and heart full of bokuto koutaro

BOKUTO KOUTARO.

➜ bokuto wanted to have a baby with you

➜ that's it that's the tweet thank you for reading😌💅

➜ i'm kidding don't leave, i have abandonment issues

➜ just like oikawa, kou ─ your husband, has gotten baby fever and it wasn't going down any minute until bb boy gets his way

➜ phew, i'd let him get his way with me✋😳

➜ bokuto was great with kids, always playing around with them in a park as if he was one of them, and both of you knew that

➜ and when bokuto sees that you're also good with kids, mans knew he wanted to build a family with you

➜ he wanted not just one, because seeing what both of you created taking in different forms and pieces of their parents would leave him so proud

➜ would very much take it as a sign from the universe saying to him that the both of you were meant to be patents

➜ the day he lets you awknowledge his little daydream, was when the both of you were sitting down on the coach re-watching his match last week after babysitting one of your guys' friend's kid

➜ mans couldn't TAKE IT ANYMORE

➜ the way you coo at the child, you cooked with the child and just the way you tenderly supported the kid with your arms as you helped him reach a toy from the shelf

➜ and of course, you accepted it; there wasn't any other man other than kou that you wanted to start a family with

➜ let's just say mans wanted to make one right then and there after you confessed to him that you wanted to start a family with him as well

➜ and y'all did just that💀

➜ after receiving the news of your pregnancy, bokuto has never been more happy, aside from those times he won a match on nationals and, well ─ marrying you

➜ but in the white noise of excitement and joyfulness, there was a lingering thought and it was terrifying; what if he doesn't make enough time for both you and his child because of volleyball? will he have to take a break from it? would your child love him?

➜ bokuto was now down to emo mode just with the thought of your guys' children hating him

➜ and when the thoughts became to unbearable, he contacts akaashi.

“ bokuto-san, ” koutaro could tell akaashi was thinking about it before saying something,

“ you're one of the best men i know that's good with children; don't waste your time sulking about nonsensical what if's, when the present is right there in front of you ”

➜ akaashi was, to say the least, your one of your children's godfather.

➜ but the day your babies was going to arrive, it was as if your husband had a switch and unlike the usual ─ he was the one supporting you

➜ he held your hand, squeezing them to let you be aware that he's right there by your side, knowing that you needed all the support right now and he gave it to you

➜ tenfolds the support you gave him

➜ and when be first saw the first triplet being born, he knew right there that he fell in love once again, but with the child he has co-produced with the love of his life !!

➜ i just wanted to say that y'all's kids are NIGHT OWLS, literally, gets the biggest bursts of energy at ungodly hours

➜ koutaro would still get anxious and terrified, but there was something about your triplets that puts him at ease ─ like, one thing he'd be doubting himself and then the next thing, he'd be all fuzzy inside when his three triplets just looked like a litter of puppies asking for his attention on his lap

➜ and he'd just, revert back to reality seeing how blessed he was and stopped doubting himself and just live in the present

➜ EYE ─ I'M SO SOFT I CAN'T😭✋

“ now say dada ” he encouraged the little sunshines on his lamp as a youthful giggle serenated from his son's lips

“ dawa ─ ” the baby tried to copy his words, before shreiking of laughter when kosuke saw the defeated look on his father's face, somehow bringing him joy

➜ while his baby girl, kouzumi, was peacefully attached to him as the most interesting in her golden eyes were his hair ─ attempting to reach her arms to his hair, making grabby arms

➜ after a few months, you've noticed how much your triplets were in sync with their father ─ all together, being balls of sunshine

“ you've been trying for hours kou, take a break. ” you laugh, as you looked up from the book you were holding seeing your husband housing an offended look, and of course ─ a weird sound, a scoff? you didn't know, until, your other son imitated him

➜ almost perfecting the one he made

➜ and bokuto was ECSTATIC

“ hONEY, HONEY, OH MY GOD DID YOU HEAR THAT? ” he squealed, as his son imitated his sound again

“ he's responding to me !! ”

“ dO IT AGAIN KOSUKE ” he says as he takes out his phone

➜ the type of father to do the peek-a-boo game with his triplets and doing it perfectly as they're just enamured by his father as if he was doing some avada kedevra shit 😭🗿

➜ hey queen!! 🙆👑 GIRL, YOU HAVE DONE IT AGAIN, CONSTANTLY RAISING📈📉 THE BAR🔝 FOR US AND DOING IT F L A W L E S S  L Y

➜ the type of father that would never miss any important moments with his children, even though he's a busy with volleyball especially since it's his profession

➜ the type of father that has too many videos of his children on his phone saying papa in different ways, trying to imitate him, first steps, first laugh & JUST EVERYTHING

➜ has a whole usb of his children, three folders for each of them

➜ has a whole ass frame of his daughter's drawing from five years old of him and her and he would NOT let anyone touch it other than him and maybe you when you when you need to dust off the frames because it's getting too dusty

➜ you guys would always be there to support him no matter what, either in the stands of at home

➜ but when you guys do visit his games and cheer him on, MANS WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE

“ mommy !! look, daddy's coming ” kaoru, the youngest of your triplets, tugged softly on your coat

➜ you smiled as you saw your husband running up to you and your kids after his matches as a few reporters, in respect, stood a few meters away from you guys, taking kosuke on his right arm, the other with kaoru and on top of his shoulders was kouzumi tugging on her father's spiked hair she could never seem to get over with

“ ahH ─ my hair baby girl, you're kinda hurting daddy ” koutaru laughed as your daughter tried processing his words before wrapping her arms around his head softly to not fall off a small gasp escaping her lips

“ i'm sowry for hurting you daddy! ” she exclaimed as her brothers tried telling her off while the reporters just watched in awe at her

“ don't hurt daddy just because he lets you on top of there ─ ” kosuke scolded her, slightly jealous that she had the highest view

“ ─ yeah! ” your youngest vigorously nodded his head as he agreed to his brother, both obviously pouting that she had the chance to be ontop of their father's shoulders

“ uh kou, i can take them now since there's a few people wanting to interview you. ” you offered as you jerked your head onto the reporters directions smiling at them

“ oh no ma'am !! it's alright, we also kinda wanted to interview your children as well, since a lot of netizens are curious about them, seeing them everywhere on his socials. ”

➜ you guys agreed as they start asking you guys questions, but more to the triplets as they responded cutely, their identical amber eyes looking at them like an owl in curiousity

➜ JUST IMAGINE THREE ADORABLE OWL LOOKING KIDS HANGING ON TO THEIR MOTHER OWL AND BOKUTO JUST LOOKS LIKES A MONKEY BAR LMAO

➜ like these kids just attached to him lmao

➜ but there are times where he has to go on tournaments, training camps, olympics & probably photoshoots/commercials ngl and these three owls he left in your care are in EMO MODE LMAOO😭✋

➜ they got it from their dad, and you were now stuck with three emo bokutos but times three

➜ wow multiplication

➜ when she's a mathematician😍

➜ but bokuto would honestly also miss his children clinging to him for dear life

➜ like they would never be separated without having facetime calls every five hours

➜ but your kids understood that he has other things to do and theg try not to complain that much for your sake

➜ your kids are actually sweethearts okay 🥺

➜ when they grew up, his sons were still attached to him but they weren't as clingey as when they were in their childhood days ─ but your daughter phew, your daughter used to be the clingiest of them all and now it's just none, nonexistent, vanished, obliviated, avada kedevra LMAO

➜ like you know how teenagers be

➜ and your husband was DEPRESSED ABOUT IT

➜ his bb girl won't touch his hair anymore :(

➜ his bb girl won't be a little girl no more :(

➜ especially when kouzumi starts having boyfriends😭 MANS WAS SAD THAT THERE ARE ALREADY BOYS OTHER HIM IN HER LIFE

➜ it felt as if it wasn't even yesterday that kouzumi said that she don't need no prince, she'll be both a fucking princess and knight in shinning armor

➜ ugh periodt💅

➜ and koutaro's nows just like

“ WHERE DID ALL THAT TALK GO ?? ”💀💀💀

➜ ALSO BOKUTO GIVES THE BEST ADIVCES NO CAP

➜ gives volleyball advices, relationship advices better than u could ever

➜ this is getting too long but, even if some of his kids may not show it anymore, they still love their father so much and won't let anyone replace him because he's basically the ace of their hearts.

[marvelous-writer]

i’ll chase away your nightmares and keep you safe

Summary:

Tony looks at him with a worried frown as he hands him a plate with a sandwich and a side of chips. He reaches a hand up and brushes a few stray curls off of Peter’s aching forehead. “You don’t look too good, Pete,” he says.

“I don’t feel that great,” Peter admits, not having the energy to pretend that he is.

“How’s your head feeling?”

“Hurts,” Peter mumbles miserably.

“Hmm,” Tony hums, as he braces his hand against Peter’s forehead.

Peter lets his eyes slip shut as he leans into his cool hand, bringing only a small amount of relief to his pounding head. He almost wants to cry when Tony takes his hand away.

“You do feel a little warm. I wouldn’t have had you slaving away out there in the sun if I’d known you didn’t feel good, Pete.”

“It wasn’t this bad earlier. I think I’m just tired or my brain is fried,”

OR

Peter experiences a bad migraine while he’s staying up at the cabin and Tony helps him through it.

Word count: 3,159

Genre: whump, angst, hurt/comfort

Link to read on Ao3:

A/N: Part 3 of @webpril

Peter squints against the harsh sunlight as he wipes sweat off his forehead, trying to ignore the pain pounding away in his head. 

“Hand me that wrench, will you?” Tony asks from his position kneeling on the grass in front of the pressure washer that had broken down as they started to power wash the house.

Peter nods as he reaches into the red toolbox and grabs said wrench and hands it to Tony. “What do you think? Is it going to make it?” He asks with a hint of sarcasm. 

“Well,” Tony says with a grunt as he tightens a bolt on the machine. “I think she has a few more good years left in her.” He says, shooting a smile over his shoulder at Peter. 

Peter smiles in return, trying not to wince when his head lets off a particularly sharp throb. He’s had this killer headache since he woke up this morning but it hasn’t been this bad until now. Sitting out here in the middle of a heatwave in the sun probably isn’t a wise decision on his part. He’d rather be inside where the cool AC is, sprawled out on his bed in the dark, sleeping this off. But he’d never say no to spending time with Tony, even if it involves a mundane task of fixing a pressure washer. 

“So… I was thinking—” Tony says as he hands Peter the wrench back when he’s done using it. 

“That can be dangerous,” Peter says. 

Tony huffs out a laugh as he shoots a grin over his shoulder at Peter. “Like son like father, I guess.” He says. 

A warm and fuzzy feeling bubbles up in Peter’s chest at his words as he smiles, ducking his head down as he puts the wrench back in the toolbox. “What were you thinking?”  

“I was thinking… what if I made some fettuccine Alfredo for dinner tonight, get some ice cream at your favorite place down the street, and we can have a nice, relaxing family movie night?” Tony asks as he wipes his oily hands on a hand towel, standing up from the ground with a small grunt when his knees click in protest. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Peter says with a smile as he pushes himself up from the ground, only to pause when his head gives off a particularly sharp throb from the new position. He reaches up and rubs at his forehead, hissing slightly though gritted teeth. 

This always happens when he tries to work through the pain of a headache, which hopefully isn’t upgrading to a migraine but with Peter’s luck, it probably is. 

And of course, Tony’s dad senses tingle. 

“You okay?” Tony asks, looking at Peter with his brows pulled together in concern. 

“Yeah… just a headache.”

Tony’s still frowning as he looks down at his watch to check the time. “It’s a little after noontime, so how about we head on inside and I’ll whip you up a sandwich for lunch.” 

“Sure.” Peter agrees easily, letting Tony guide him inside the blissfully cool house and out of the intense sun and heat. 

They find Morgan sitting on the couch in front of the tv watching one of her cartoons, one that Peter doesn’t know because it came out sometime in those five years during the Blip. 

“How about you sit with Morgan while I get lunch started?” Tony suggests. 

“Okay,” 

Peter slips his shoes off at the front door before he walks over to the couch, wincing at the sunlight pouring in from the windows, mixed with the obnoxiously bright colors from the cartoon on the tv. He plops down on the chaise section of the couch next to Morgan and throws a pillow over his face to shield himself from the light. 

“Are you okay, Petey?” Morgan questions. 

“Yup…” Peter mumbles beneath the pillows. “M’ all good, Morgs.” 

“Why are you hiding?”

“M’ not hiding. Just trying to sleep and the light’s bothering my eyes.” He tells her. 

“Does your head hurt like Daddy’s does sometimes?” She asks. 

“A little.” 

“Oh! I’m sorry.” Morgan whispers.

“S’okay.” Peter mumbles. 

 It takes only a few minutes before Peter feels himself drifting off to the soft murmurs coming from the tv, but he can’t quite fall asleep with his head pounding away. It almost makes him want to cry at the unfairness of it all—why his brain just won’t shut off and let him fall into a pit of painless nothingness.

He’s taken out of his almost-asleep state by a hand gently shaking his shoulder. “Pete, you awake? Lunch is all ready.” Tony says in a soft voice. 

“Mhmm…” Peter hums as he slowly sits up, letting the pillows fall away from his face, finding the room’s curtains to be drawn with the tv off, settling the space in a soothing semi-darkness. 

Tony looks at him with a worried frown as he hands him a plate with a sandwich and a side of chips. He reaches a hand up and brushes a few stray curls off of Peter’s aching forehead. “You don’t look too good, Pete,” he says. 

“I don’t feel that great,” Peter admits, not having the energy to pretend that he is. 

“How’s your head feeling?” 

“Hurts,” Peter mumbles miserably.  

“Hmm,” Tony hums, as he braces his hand against Peter’s forehead. 

Peter lets his eyes slip shut as he leans into his cool hand, bringing only a small amount of relief to his pounding head. He almost wants to cry when Tony takes his hand away. 

“You do feel a little warm. I wouldn’t have had you slaving away out there in the sun if I’d known you didn’t feel good, Pete.”

“It wasn’t this bad earlier. I think I’m just tired or my brain is fried,” 

Tony huffs out a small laugh. “Your brain isn’t fried, Pete. You’re just tired and you’ve been overworking yourself lately. How about you eat what you can and you can nap until dinner?” 

Sleep. That sounds pretty nice right about now. 

“Okay.” Peter agrees easily. 

…

After lunch, Tony helps Peter upstairs to his bedroom and draws the black-out curtains, engulfing the room into darkness, much to Peter’s relief. 

Peter is about to lie down but Tony stops him by handing him one of his pain meds. 

“But they make me feel weird and loopy,” Peter argues weakly. 

“I know you don’t like taking them, but it’ll help with the pain,” Tony says. 

Peter sighs but takes the pill anyways just to please him, swallowing it down with a few sips of water from the cup Tony gives him. 

When Peter is lying down on his side with his eyes closed, he hears Tony walk out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom before the sink turns on, until footsteps approach his room. 

Peter breathes out a relieved sigh when he feels a cool, wet washcloth being placed over his eyes and forehead. 

“Better?” Tony asks as Peter feels the bed dip down next to his hip. 

“Mhmm…” Peter hums, feeling the coolness take the edge off his headache so it no longer feels like his head is at risk of exploding from the pressure. “You gonna stay?” He asks hopefully. 

“Sure thing, kiddo,” Tony says, hearing him get up again before the bed dips down beside him until he feels the man’s hand card through his curls. 

The feeling soothes Peter as he breathes out another sigh of relief as he allows himself to relax, feeling the tension leave his body. 

It only takes a few moments before Peter finds himself drifting off to sleep, feeling the pain grows duller as his consciousness fades away. 

…

Peter can’t breathe as dust begins to fill his lungs. 

He looks up with wide, tear-filled eyes at Tony, who’s standing several feet away from him, looking equally as scared as Peter.

“I don’t wanna go,” he pleads, voice wobbling as he takes a few stumbling steps towards him. “P-Please—P-Please, I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna go.” 

Tony opens his arms as Peter falls forward, but instead of falling into Tony’s arms, he falls right through him as Tony suddenly crumbles to nothing but a pile of ashes. 

“N-No!” Peter screams as catches himself on his shaking arms, saving himself from face-planting on the orange, dirt-covered ground… which is now covered in Tony’s ashes. “N-No…. p-please,” Peter sobs as he carefully picks up a handful of it, only to break out into a harsh cough that has him doubled over, finding that he’s coughing up dust. 

Ashes. 

That’s all he sees. 

Ashes. 

Peter blinks away the tears in his eyes as he looks around himself, seeing figures of ashes floating in the air where the Guardians and Dr. Strange once stood. 

He’s all alone. 

Peter takes in a shuddering breath as he looks back down at himself, only to see that his hands are now disappearing, dust falling from his fingertips, joining Tony’s on the ground. It quickly travels up his hands, then his forearms, climbing up his entire body. 

Peter sucks in a gasp, feeling like his insides are now full with his own ashes, suffocating him. 

He’s dying. 

He’s all alone. 

Ashes. 

Ashes. 

They all fall down. 

Ashes. 

Ashes. 

Ashes. 

They all… fall… down. 

Peter’s eyes snap open, only to be met with a horrible, pulsating pain radiating through his skull, feeling like it’s about to explode as something hot shoots up his throat. 

Peter shoots up into a sitting position as he gags, only for more waves of sharp pain to stab at his head as he tries to get up. But the moment that he manages to swing his legs over the bed, he gags again and hot, liquidy vomit spews out of his mouth, landing all over his lap and the floor. 

But the only thing he can see is ashes. 

Peter gasps in the middle of a gag, only to break out into a harsh round of coughing but it only brings back the memory of him coughing up dust in his nightmare… or was it real? Is he already dead and this is a dream? Or his worst nightmare that he’ll have to live again and again in a constant, torturous loop?

His head and ears are pounding too much, Peter doesn’t hear the pair of footsteps running up the stairs towards his bedroom. 

Peter slams his eyes shut as he coughs up more bile—more ashes. 

His ashes. 

It’s happening again. 

Thanos snapped.

Half the universe is gone. 

Thanos won and they lost. 

“Peter! Peter—look at me, kid!” A voice filters its way through the sheer panic racing through him, mixing with all the pain. “Pete—open your eyes for me!” 

Peter snaps his eyes open, only to find Tony’s worried face in front of him—but it’s just like before, except Tony turned to ashes right in front of him. 

“T-Tony p-please,” Peter hoarsely says, feeling something cold slide down his cheeks. “P-Please—I-I don’t wanna go. P-Please,” he begs as he slams his eyes shut, unable to get the image of Tony crumbling to nothing in front of him. 

His breathing comes in quick gasps now, and it feels like his insides are filling up again—oh God. It’s happening again. He’s going to die and there isn’t anything or anyone that can stop it. Thanos won again—he’s always going to win. He’s never going to stop coming. 

Peter’s dying all over again. 

“Pete—you’re okay. Peter! You’re not dying—kiddo, please listen to me!” 

He’s going to die. 

Ashes. 

Ashes. 

Peter lets out a choked sob, only to throw up more bile. “I-I can’t-” he sucks in a sharp, choked breath. “Can’t breathe-”

Black dots dance around in his vision as he opens his eyes, finding a blurry figure in front of him, feeling cold hands on his face. 

“Pete you’ve gotta listen to me, bud. You have to breathe.” 

“I c-can’t,” Peter chokes out around a sob, squeezing his eyes shut again. “I-I can’t—I c-can’t!” 

“Yes, you can. You can breathe. You’re not going anywhere. I promise you, Pete. Please. Come back to me. Try to take in a deep breath, okay? Think you can do that for me, kiddo?” 

Peter sucks in a gasping breath, feeling horribly lightheaded now, but he tries. 

“That’s it, Pete. That’s it, kiddo. In and out.” Tony soothes. 

It feels like forever until Peter’s lungs give in, letting air in and allowing him to breathe. He sucks in a shaky breath that triggers a harsh round of coughing, before he opens his eyes and blinks a few times to clear his blurry vision. 

“T-Tony?” Peter asks, seeing the man kneeling in front of him with a worried expression on his face. 

“I’m right here, Pete,” Tony tells him in a soft voice. “You back with me?” 

Peter blinks, his brows pulling together as he shakily nods. He closes his eyes against the pounding behind them, mixed with horrible nausea churning away in his stomach. “I don’t feel good,” he mumbles. 

“I know you don’t kiddo. I’m so sorry,” Tony says, feeling a hand brush away a strand of damp curls that are stuck to his sweaty forehead. “How about you take a minute to catch your breath and we’ll get you all cleaned up and back into bed, okay?”

Peter blinks hard as he looks down at his lap again, but closes his eyes at the disgusting state of his lap. He opens them back up again and looks at Tony, brows pulled together. “I-Is this… is this real?” He asks. 

Tony’s face falls as he reaches up and gently wipes a trail of tears from Peter’s cheeks with a calloused thumb. “Of course it is, bud,” he softly says. “This is real, I’m real and you’re at the cabin with me, Pepper and Morgan.” 

Peter sniffs wetly. “B-But… it just felt s-so real.” He whispers. 

Tony nods as he runs a hand through Peter’s hair. “I know, Pete but I promise you it wasn’t. It was just a nightmare.” He says in a soft voice as he places the back of his hand on Peter’s forehead, frowning. “You’re burning up, kiddo. It looks like this is more than just a migraine.” 

Peter breathes out a sigh at that. “‘Course it’s not.” He mumbles miserably. Good ol’ Parker Luck. 

“How about we get you cleaned up, hmm?” 

Peter wordlessly nods as Tony helps him stand up, grabbing him a change of clothes from the dresser before slowly leading him out of his room and down the hallway to the bathroom. Tony is practically carrying him with how wobbly his legs are, but they manage to make it to the bathroom and Tony helps him sit on the closed toilet seat. 

Peter closes his eyes against the painful throbbing going on behind them, letting himself slowly slump against the wall next to him. He’s barely aware of Tony wiping his face with a warm washcloth until he’s gently shaken. 

“Pete, you gotta open your eyes for me, bud,” Tony says softly. 

Peter lets out a low, hoarse groan as he blinks open his eyes, squinting against the LED lighting in the bathroom. 

“Arms up,” Tony instructs as he helps him out of his ruined t-shirt and into a clean one. “Think you can stand up on your own so you can change your pants?” 

Peter binks slowly. “M’ kinda dizzy,” he admits.

Tony frowns at that as he goes back to the task at hand and helps Peter slide his ruined pajama pants off, grateful to have a pair of boxers on to save him any further embarrassment. Tony helps him stand up on shaky legs to pull on the clean pair of sweatpants he grabbed, helping Peter pull them up to his waist.

“I think you’re good to go, bud,” Tony says, offering him a small smile.

Peter tries to smile but he thinks it comes out more of a grimace. Tony wraps an arm around his waist and helps him out of the bathroom and back down the hall towards his room at a slow pace. When they walk back into the room, Pepper is throwing a white duvet over his bed and she looks up at them, offering Peter a warm, sympathetic smile.

“How are you feeling, honey?” She asks.

Peter makes a weak sound at the back of his throat as he blinks sluggishly, too tired to form words anymore.

“He’s feeling pretty crappy,” Tony answers for him as he guides him over to the bed and helps him lie down on the clean sheets, which Peter suspects Pepper changed while they were gone.

Despite how out of it he is, Peter feels guilty that she cleaned up after him.

“M’ sorry,” Peter mumbles as he blinks open his eyes as Tony pulls the covers up to his chin. “M’ such a problem.”

Tony frowns as he exchanges a look Peter doesn’t catch with Pepper before he looks back down at him as he sits on the edge of the bed. “No, you’re not,”

Peter shakes his head, feeling tears pricking at his eyes. “I am,” He argues weakly. “Y-You shouldn’t have to deal with me.”

“Peter,” Pepper says as she sits down on the edge of the bed on the other side. “You’re not a problem, honey. You’re sick and you’re tired. We want to help you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Tony agrees. “Besides, it’s part of the job description.” He says with a small smile.

Peter honestly doesn’t know what he’s done in life to deserve such an amazing and caring family.

“Why don’t you try to get some more sleep?” Tony says as he fixes the blanket around Peter and tucks him in.

“Okay,” Peter mumbles as he blinks up at him with half-lidded eyes.

“Feel better, honey,” Pepper says softly as she smoothes a hand over his hair before she stands up and walks out into the hallway.

A spark of fear shoots through Peter as Tony stands up and he thinks he’s about to leave too. “Can you stay?” Peter slurs tiredly.

“Of course I can,” Tony says, the corners of his lips turning up in a small smile as he walks to the other side of the bed and settles against the headrest.

Peter slowly rolls on his side so he’s facing him and wiggles himself up so his head is resting against Tony’s chest, earning a chuckle from him in response.

“Feeling a little cuddly are we?”

“Mhmm…” Peter hums as he closes his eyes, feeling Tony’s hand settle in his hair, hearing the faint, comforting thumping of Tony’s heart against his ear. “T’hnks for taking care of me,” he mumbles sleepily.

“That’s what I’m here for, Pete,” Tony tells him, warmness in his voice as he cards his fingers through Peter’s curls.

[ladyanaconda]

Helluva Dad Vol. 3: Nerd

As I mentioned in the first one-shot, the events of the Harvest Moon Festival took place before Murder Family in this AU, so the discovery of the angelic weapon went differently. In other words, this prequel is where the canon divergence begins. Enjoy!

*HB-*

It's gonna be nice working with him. I asked him if he wants to join I.M.P.

Moxxie couldn't get those words out of his head. Striker working at I.M.P.? As much as he hated to admit it, he could actually picture it. The cowboy was an ace at… Well, everything, as far as he knew. This didn't mean Moxxie was happy at the prospect of having him as a co-worker, however. Striker had done nothing but rub Moxxie's lack of physical strength and 'balls to his face; heaven, even Striker's five-year-old kid made fun of him in a more innocent, child-like manner.

Moxxie felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach; if Striker does join I.M.P., where would this leave him in the company? Blitzo's the boss, Millie the powerhouse, and Striker might as well replace Moxxie as the weapons expert, not to mention become an additional powerhouse. Where would that leave Moxxie? Besides, he wasn't sure if he wanted to work with the guy who humiliated him via song, the one thing Moxxie thought he'd at least be better at.

Joe and Lynn never liked Moxxie for Millie from the beginning. 'Too much of a wimpy fag', he overheard them say more than once. 'He can't handle something as simple as gathering eggs from the chicken coop*, how is he going to protect or provide for Millie?' Striker, on the other hand, was strong, imposing, fearless, manly. They treated him more like a son-in-law than Moxxie even if the cowboy wasn't wedded into the family. Moxxie was no fool; he'd seen his parents-in-law subtly trying to get Millie alone with Striker and have them spend time together, practically screaming 'dump your wimp of a husband and fuck this real man'.

These thoughts crossed Moxxie's mind as he climbed upstairs. Everyone else was outside, which was good because he wanted to be alone right now.

There was a thump in one of the rooms. Following the sound out of sheer curiosity, Moxxie noticed a white glow filtering underneath the door. Hey, isn't it Striker's room? Moxxie has a policy against entering someone's bedroom without permission, but his spite towards the cowboy imp and curiosity got the better of him.

He found little Jake on the bed. The impling looked frightened for a second until he noticed it was only Moxxie. "You not daddy!"

"What do you go there, little fella?"

"Nothig!" Jake spread out his arms in a feeble attempt at hiding whatever thing was on the bed. Moxxie only had to take a few steps forward to peek over Jake.

"Oh, my crumbs!" There, in a long case, was a beautiful black rifle with silvery designs that almost seemed to glow with a heavenly light. "A genuine carmine crafted blessing-tipped rifle."As Moxxie tried to touch it, Jake snapped his teeth at his hand. "Hey, watch it!"

"No touch! Daddy's rifle!" Jake growled adorably. Geez, the brat's got his father's awful character.

"How… How in the fuck did he get one of these?"

"Why don't you ask me, little dude?" Moxxie and Jake froze, though the latter seemed more like 'shit I'm in trouble' than 'shit I'm dead.

Striker was leaning against the door, arms crossed. He didn't look very happy.

"Boy, I thought we'd talked about this already," he told Jake sternly.

"I… I just wanna touch it, daddy." Jake whispered timidly.

"W-Why do you have this?! Mister!" Moxxie asked nervously. "You are aware this kind of weapon can kill…"

"...Demon royalty?" Striker finished grimly.

"Yes, that."

"Duuh! That what it for, dummy!" Jake stuck his tongue at Moxxie.

"Kiddo, Mrs. Lin is baking the lava berry pie you like so much. Why don't you go take a look while daddy has a word with Moxxie?" Did Striker just call him by his name? Jake yelled happily and climbed off the bed, speeding out of the room.

Moxxie felt a shiver down his spine as Striker closed the door shut behind him. "Well, I'm… I'm relatively concerned by your possession of this…" he stepped back warily as the cowboy walked towards him with a devilish grin, eyes glowing as he came to a halt right in front of Moxxie, silently staring down at him. "I'm also glad my instant dislike of you has been validated!"

Neither moved for a while. Then, against Moxxie's expectations, Striker gently moved him aside to gently run his fingers along the weapon's side. There was a sad, almost nostalgic look on his face.

"I cherish it, you know. It used to belong to someone who was very dear to me. Nowadays I rarely use it, though. So it's more like a memento." Moxxie was quite surprised at the emotion in his voice.

"Then you have used it."

"Well, I wasn't always a farmhand, little fella. Let's say I'd make a living as a hitman." Striker sat down on his bed, eyes on the rifle. "Whenever people wanted someone dead, they'd call me. Kind of what you guys do at I.M.P., but down here in Hell." He sighed. "Then my… priorities shifted."

Moxxie was about to ask him what he meant when he spotted a small box full of toys. "...Jake."

Striker nodded. "When Jake was born, I realized that kind of job endangered both my and his life on a nearly daily basis, so I had to retire and find a safer job. It's not as exciting as the thrill of shooting people's brains out of their skulls, but it puts bread on the table."

Moxxie wasn't sure what to say. Tentatively, he sat down next to Striker, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. He wasn't pushed off, so he guessed it was okay.

"You've done a decent job, you know. He's a good kid… Most of the time." he murmured the last part.

An awkward silence followed until Striker spoke again. "So, Blitz said you're I.M.P.'s weapons expert."

"I am. Why, is it such a surprise for you?"

Striker shrugged. "What can I say? You don't give that impression, wimp."

Offended, Moxxie pulled out his pistol. "Walther P.38!"

Striker raised an eyebrow. "Looks pretty anemic compared to the peacekeeper."

"It's not about size, you know. It's about stamina."

"Is that so?" Striker smirked. "What can you tell me about the Thompson submachine gun?"

"Fifty rounds a drum, twenty-five a mag!" Moxxie said in excitement. "It's a good weapon, but its cocking mechanism always jams. The Russian P.P.S. personal assault weapon is a better choice."

"Maybe, but in the end, it's the experience that wins the day. It's not all about firepower."

"Indeed! I mean, even the best gun in all of Hell can be wasted in the hands of a newbie."

Striker laughed and gave Moxxie a strong pat on the back, unintentionally sending him to the ground.

"Not bad, wimp. Looks like you are good at something, after all."

Moxxie blinked in disbelief. "Was that a compliment?"

"Don't get used to it, little nerd." Striker chuckled, smirking. "You still have a long way to go to earn my respect."

"Who're you calling a nerd?!"

"Bowtie, fragile arms, pushover, you're afraid of a mere rooster. Should I continue?"

"For your information, I'm not afraid of the rooster!" Moxxie crossed his arms. Striker raised an eyebrow. "...I simply don't like the idea of getting infected with the avian flu, thank you very much."

Smirking again, Striker closed the case and walked out of the room. "Nerd."

"I'm not a nerd!"

*HB*

*A callback to the scenes in some movies when someone goes to the chicken coops to collect the eggs and is attacked by the rooster. Come on, you can't tell me you don't see this happening to Moxxie. And if living roosters are a pain, just imagine one straight from Hell.

[talpy]

Avatar fic rec post

Hi people, this is an Avatar fic rec post for @kuruccha​ who wanted a primer. Happy Avatar renaissance to you :D

Everything under cut, because boy, there are a lot of fics. Forgive me for being repetitive in my recs, but they are all so good and amazing and *melts in a sea of feelings*

First, some authors who are so, so very good and my favourites by them (fics aren’t in any particular order, authors are in alphabetic order):

Avocadolove  (Tumblr: @awesomeavocadolove​ )

The Problem with Zuko: I love the idea that Zuko finds his way to team Avatar even without the Agni Kai and the rest. One of my favourites fics for at least 10 years.

Another Brother: Zuko was adopted by Hakoda, but he doesn’t remember his past. I really like how Iroh is portrayed in this story, very interesting!

Unchained Melody: Sokka doesn’t return with his body after being spirit-napped from Her Bai. Strangely, only Zuko can see him. I really love how everything is developed here :)

Consider Chaos: series where Zuko finds Vaatu and becomes the Chaos!Avatar. Really interesting premise, cooler effects!

Half a Heart: Zukka!soumates AU. Very interesting choices about world building and Hakoda’s character.

Haircrescendo

Carry On For You: from the series intro “Not the Pokémon AU you asked for but the one you’re getting anyway.”. I like it a lot, amazing adaptions and backstory building for Zuko. It focuses on Zuko and Sokka.

Compassion For All Our Monsters: intro “How Sokka learned to shut up and be nice, and also learn a little bit more about Zuko than he wanted to.” mandatory Sokka-finds-out-about-Zuko’s-past.

Fire Nation Yacht Club: one of the angstiest series I’ve read, I love it and I re-read it like once a month. Intro of the fist fic “Sokka knows three (3) things: 1. The caldera is on fire. 2. Ozai’s really, really dead (and so is his daughter). 3. The only one having a worse day is probably Zuko.”

What We’re Given: such an amazing series! Intro “Started out as a “What would happen if Zuko happened to rediscover sky bison while searching for the Avatar?” and turned into something more than that.” Zuko blasting Aang for not washing Appa properly will always be amazing xD

MuffinLance (Tumblr: @muffinlance​, suggest following for plot-bunnies)

Towards the Sun: Zuko doesn’t manage to escape on the Day of the Black Sun, a very angst novella-length intro ensues. I love this a lot because of the angst and how it sparkled inspiration for other stories with a similar premise.

Salvage: here it his, the original dad!koda fic. Intro “Mid-Season-One Zuko is held ransom by Chief Hakoda. Ozai's replies to the Water Tribe's demands are A+ Parenting. Hakoda is… deeply concerned, for this son that isn't his, and who might be safer among enemies than with his own father.” Lots of feelings and amazing A+ writing.

The One Where Zuko's Hair Matches Sokka's and Other Tales: fillets from tumblr, extra material, general awesomeness all around.

Miscellaneous

The Home I've Searched For by Kayasurin: I didn’t know Azula/Kuei could be that good! Really awesome story, amazing Azula.

The Festival of Four by SuperKat: Aang knows his time is coming near and he says goodbye. Very touching and moving (yes I did cry), amazing Aang voice.

Sunday in the Park with Appa by Dracze: Parks and Recreation!AU, Aang as Leslie Knope and Zuko as Ben Wyatt. I loved how the AU was adapted on the characters and on the format -blogging instead of “watching in camera”.

Like Fire and Water by Setari: Sokka and Katara find their father in Ba Sing Se with his new wife, Ursa. Very funny, especially when Sokka/Katara and Zuko/Azula realise that they are siblings.

the beginning of a new and brighter birth by aloneintherain: from the intro “In a new era of peace, Zuko works to be a very different Fire Lord than his forefathers.”. I love how Zuko tries to make changes in the Fire Nation at the start of his reign.

The Family You Choose by TunaFishChris: the platonic Gang soulmate AU I needed without knowing. I liked it a lot, especially at the end. One of my favourites!

illustrate the remnants of the life i used to live by WitchofEndor: also a platonic Gang soulmate AU but much angstier. This Zuko is simply heartbreaking.

where the stars do not take sides by WitchofEndor: intro “When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them. Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.” as beautiful as it sounds, really amazing Azula voice.

Doe-eyed by OldeShoestrings: Azula as the big sister of Zuko. I love how Azula is fundamentally the same but how her being the old sister changes everything. I like this a lot.

How to Care for Your Local Fire Lord; A Memoir by The Palace Staff by RejectsCanon: the fire palace’s stuff joins the Zuko protection squad. I salute them.

The Sins Of Our Family by Mangaluva: amazing series inspired by Towards the Sun. Intro “Zuko didn't escape the Fire Nation on the day of the eclipse. Azula decides to invite him to her coronation, setting off a chain of events involving abuse, trauma, siblings, recovery, and rebuilding.”. Really love this portrayal of the fire siblings.

There Is No Fire Lord by OccasionalStorytelling: other fic inspired by Towards the Sun, basically Zuko remains in prison even if he is basically the Fire Lord. The plot soon becomes its own creature and I love how it develops.

Two Perspectives by Sabretoothgooselion: series about Zuko and Kuei, really lovely. As of now there are 2 fics, but apparently more are in the works. Cannot wait!

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by meliebee: the first year and something of Zuko reign. Amazing Zuko voice, very angst, much approved.

and love will be your teacher by Ford_Ye_Fiji: series on hiatus, AU where Azulon doesn’t die and takes Zuko away from Ozai giving him to Iroh instead. Very very nice, I love the relationship between Zuko and Iroh.

Of Dead Fire and Dragon Dreams by ChickadeeChickadoo: during the Day of the Black Sun Ozai lies to Zuko saying that Iroh is dead. Zuko redirects lightening to him and he finds himself Fire Lord. Very cool story, love Azula in here.

In the Soft Light by CSHfic, VSfic: Zukka, moon-spirit-Sokka!AU. I love this story so much! Zuko is so very an awkward turtleduck here.

How to Disappear Completely by aeoleus & the long way around by ciaconnaa: two modern Au where Zuko is Kiyi’s guardian, very very nice.

kintsugi by discordiansamba: when Zuko is banished he becomes Toph’s bodyguard. Yes it is as amazing as it sounds.

it's the illusion of separation by argentoswan: very nice Zukka!modern Au. Sokka starts working at the Jasmine Dragon, but alas, his old high school bully Zuko works there too. I love how Zuko’s past with the gaang was adapted and how the relationship between him and Sokka develops.

Finding Solace in Parking Lots by RejectsCanon: Zukka!Modern au, Sokka and Zuko find themselves in the same McDonalds’ parking lot having a breakdown. Really really lovely.

Fractures by EvieNyx: instead of being banished, Ozai imprisons Zuko far from everyone’s eyes. When Ozai and Azula are defeated he evolves from prisoner to Fire Lord in one big step. Love the characters and the cliffhangers!

Fight by Electrons: Zuko doesn’t side with Azula at Crossroads of destiny, but that doesn’t make everything much easier. Amazing word-building and lovely dive in cultural diversity. Also, ace!Zuko which is very lovely.

Dragon of the Yuyan by 00AwkwardPenguin00: intro “In which Zuko is fostered/adopted/raised/recruited by the Yuyan Archers of Pouhai Stronghold, and destiny hiccups.” very very cool story, I really like how Zuko is portrayed here.

Always trust Sokka's instincts by Thisisentertaining: whereas Jet shows Sokka an interesting Fire Nation prisoner... a Zuko-joins-the-Gaang-early-Au. Very very good :D

all my skeletons out for the taking by 136108: Azula wins the Agni Kai. It’s still on progress but for now it’s very very good and I can’t wait to read what’s happening next.

Mark Time by foil: yes, another Zukka modern au. This is very very angst, be careful with the tags’ warnings. This story keeps surprising me and I hope Zuko and Sokka will find their happy ending.

[helihi]

The Good, The Bad, and the Dirty: RWBY Vol 7 Ep 4

Thank you for renewing your Punch Jacques Club Membership, I cannot confirm or deny that you’ll accomplish your goal this season, but we’re family.

Overall rating of the chapter: 7.5/10 

*Spoilers Ahead*

The Good

To start off this chapter, we learn more about the true dynamics of the Ace Ops and, more importantly, about Atlas Academy. At Beacon, teams are chosen by interactions and collaborative efforts during a recorded test. Ozpin chose teams based on trust, leadership skills, and bonds. In Atlas, teams are chosen based on effectiveness. The students are not viewed as people or individuals, they are viewed as numbers.

In the previous episodes, there were a couple of things that didn’t quite sit well with me: Harriet’s original comment to Ruby regarding her Semblance felt more mean than playful, and the fact that Marrow was everyone’s punching bag. At first, you might think that this is just playful banter between friends, like Yang and Ruby referring to Jaune as Vomit Boy from time to time, however, that’s not true. Since Harriet declares that they are not friends, you may realize that they are not “picking on Marrow”, they are actively bullying him. There’s no complements thrown his way, there are no mutual laughter or apologies, it’s just drag after drag after drag.

I have the slight feeling that Marrow might consider them his friends, and that’s why he’s letting the comments slide. We should also consider that he is the only Faunus in the team, and although I believe their comments don’t come from a source of casual racism, but rather at pointing out the fact that he’s the most childish of them all, we should pin that for now.

I get Harriet, there’s a difference between co-workers and friends. Though some times you may befriend your co-workers, playful banter and after office outings don’t translate to friendship. I say this as someone who has worked for a big company. There were coworkers I genuinely befriended, and other who I was friendly after office hours, but never hung out with outside work parties or outings.

That being said, I find it hard that you wouldn’t bond with those whose life you’ve saved before, the same who’ve saved yours. Interestingly, when Yang inquires about this and gets dismissed by Harriet, you can see the way Blake reacts in the background. Have we bonded over trauma? Is that all that this is?

Let me be clear: people can bond over trauma, but at the same time, going through a lot of things with a person can show you sides of them you never noticed before, you see them in a different light. That being said, Team RWBY’s enemies haven’t been random people: Cinder killed Pyrrha, their friend; Emerald was someone they trusted; Mercury framed Yang in front of Remnant; Adam was Blake’s abusive ex and his goal to destroy Blake and Yang was personal. During the arcs these characters have gone through, they have grown as people as they faced death, obviously they are going to bond.

This may have been pure coincidence, but it’s interesting that an anti-bee section of the FNDM posed the idea that Yang and Blake’s relationship is based on mutual trauma. This claim is ridiculous because both of them cared about each other before the Fall of Beacon. The traumatic event made their relationship take a turn, and realize some things that they didn’t notice before or made things clearer for them. (On a side note, Asami realized she had feelings for Korra when she thought the avatar was going to die at the end of book 3). Sometimes certain situations change your perspective about things and people.

I want to note that Nora’s comedic relief landed perfectly, and Jaune’s sass was on point. Once again James is presented as someone trouble seeking the best outcome through the wrong means. That being said, Tyrian and Watts plan seem to be to overthrow him and generate chaos through political manipulation, and as someone who comes from a country with high levels of corruptions and suspicious murders, this is true real. Also, don’t think James is a good poor guy trying to be his best. He’s actively choosing one portion of the kingdom over the other and dooming certain populations.

Next stop is Jacques “Scumbag” Schnee making his first appearance in the volume. TBH it was about time. Given how the opening frames him, he had to show up soon. Just like I expected the moment he started bickering with Ironwood, he turned around and will now help Watts. At first, Jacques might have had power over Ironwood, but now he doesn’t, at least until he get his seat at “The Council”, which I’m expecting him to win.

As someone with an abusive parent, Jacques’s mannerisms make sense. The shift from his violent approach to a more manipulative one are common abusive tactics of an abusive person when in public or when their victim stands up to them. My parent used to be more physically abusive when I was a child, but when I grew taller and stronger, they switched to a psychological one since I could defend myself. In this case, Jacques was super close to striking Weiss again, but stopped the moment one of her true dads stepped in (Ironwood).

Jacques using Willow to guilt trip Weiss was dirty and awful, and once again adds on to my theory that she might be the Winter maiden. Thankfully, like Ruby promised, Team RBY is right beside her.

Blake is ready to kill him, and Yang is processing how awful the man is. Ruby is utterly confused at his attitude. Following this, we find that Winter was siting for him to leave before showing up. She looks around to confirm that he’s no longer there, and Weiss points out “Winter, it’s nice for you to finally show up”. Just like I've talked about before, while Weiss got out of the abusive environment and found a real family (Team RWBY), Winter escaped Jacques by joining the military. James Ironwood is only missing one Schnee child to adopt, and we’ll get to that soon enough.

All our kids are now huntsmen! Congrats! Just like they say, the licenses feel hollow after all they’ve been through, and TBH I agree. It also shows progress for the characters, specially Yang who had the most superficial goal out of the 4 Team RWBY members. Regardless of that, it’s nice to see the goof around, take pics, and eat cake. Something I thought it was adorable is how Winter interacts with Penny: she’s so caring and nice. I love them.

We got a really good moment between Ruby and Qrow, and some background on Summer. The DC comics have helped us understand Summer a little bit ore, but this confirms that she was a brat (hell ye). Apparently, her last mission was a “Summer mission”. I really need those Team STRQ flashbacks. I bet Raven know more than we think.

I also think it’s important that Qrow pointed out how Ruby is not Oz since she doesn’t keep the secret to herself. I think certain conditions should be met to be open about Salems existence, especially considering current circumstances.

Jaune offering to protect little children is the most Jaune thing ever, never change boy.

Lastly, Watts finds an ally: the douchbag who married into the Schnee name. That small interaction with Whitley and Jacques might be a small sign of foreshadowing him having a reception arc. His father doesn’t trust him to invite his heir into the meeting, and he treats his son rudely. Whitley looks genuinely dejected.

Watts faked his death, that might be an indication why Ironwood doesn’t have a clear suspect yet. Now, he’s part of the Asshole Mustache club.

Anyways, next episode it looks like we’re going to meet Robyn. The sheep faunus and the tattooed guy next to her might have been part of her team.

The Bad

Those quick animations for cheap comedic effect have started getting kinda annoying. I wish they didn’t overuse them ass much.

The Dirty

Where’s Klein.

--

Final Rating: 7.5/10. Good, but not above expectations.

A.N.: Alost 18 mins, keeping up with the consistent episode length, congrats!

[sonfaro]

Saw this from reddit poster JBaecker and thought I’d share.  Way too many TLJ defenders completely misunderstand Luke’s character arc in the OT and it shows badly.  This is the response to a poster claiming Luke was “always hot headed”:

Let us review: in the Throne Room, Luke was told....

1. Emperor let the Rebellion know about DS2

2. Dad was going to do his best to kill him

3. His friends on the Endor moon were about to die

4. He strikes OUT OF DESPERATION to try and kill the Emperor, which Vader blocks

5. Because both the Emperor and Vader are BOTH trying to turn Luke but Luke doesn’t hate Vader, therefore Luke needs a FOCUS for his hate

6. Vader then proceeds to kick his ass all over the room while the Emperor stokes his anger and hate by prodding Luke

7. Luke hides in an attempt to ‘be a Jedi’ (calm/passive)

8. Vader then violates Luke’s MIND and takes info that tells him HE HAS A DAUGHTER (I want anyone to think about this. Force users can enter the mind of others and see their most intimate thoughts without the permission of the person being invaded. This is a form of rape. Luke was RAPED.)

9. Instead of wondering at this, his first words are that Obi-Wan has now failed; Luke is in his clutches, the Rebellion is about to be destroyed and his last ace-in-the-hole has been discovered

10. Top off that suck salad with the bacon bits of IMMEDIATELY VADER JUMPS TO “I’LL JUST REPLACE YOU WITH HER”

11. Luke is literally going through hell and now he’s exposed his sister to that possibility

12. With the loss of hope Luke finally lets his rage go and he DEMOLISHES VADER; it’s not even close

13. Then as he stands over his father, he realizes that the cave vision has come true: Luke is his father

14. BUT THEN HE REALIZES THE FAILURE OF THE JEDI

15. life is about choices: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A PATH THAT FOREVER DOMINATES YOUR DESTINY

16. At this exact instant, he understands what the Jedi are SUPPOSED to be and why they are called Knights

17. He turns to the Emperor and throws away his lightsaber, a symbols of aggression and violence, takes a step and placed himself DIRECTLY BETWEEN THE PERSONIFICATION OF EVIL AND HIS FATHER AND SAYS “You have failed Your Highness. I am a Jedi, like my father before me.”

18. Because being a Jedi KNIGHT means you have a sword (lightsaber) AND A SHIELD. A Jedi’s shield is the Jedi’s own body. Luke literally shields his own father from evil and reminds his father of this in the process.

19. This means Luke CHOSE to attack and nearly killed his father in anger BUT then realized that like everything else, it was part of the Emperor’s plan. This also means that the PT shows this gradual descent of Anakin towards evil. EVERY CHOICE IN THE PT IS A CHANCE FOR ANAKIN TO CHOOSE THE JEDI PATH AND HIS CONTINUED FAILURE TO DO SO IS THE REAL FAILURE OF THE JEDI AND ANAKIN. But both Sith and Jedi see it in binary: either you are good or you are bad. But this is incorrect. Everyone makes mistakes and fucks up. But if you realize this, a real Jedi takes responsibility and then fixes their mistake.

20. With this realization LUKE SURPASSES OBI-WAN AND YODA AS A JEDI (there is also the entire problem of the philosophy of emotion, which Luke realizes is incorrect too, his anger at his father is valid and Jedi philosophy of suppressing emotion is completely wrong and one of the root causes of Vader’s rise); the Emperor then CONFIRMS LUKES STATUS BY SAYING “So be it, Jedi.” He realizes that Luke has figured out the Jedi Path and his manipulations will no longer work.

21. But Luke’s still young, going against a Dark Side user that has DECADES of experience

22. The RotJ novelization does this a touch better: The Emperor throws lightning and while Luke thinks he’s protecting his father he’s able to block the lightning even though he’s surprised by it

23. Vader crawls back to his Master like a dog, and Luke loses hope and his defense crumbles

24. The Emperor cackles and delights in torturing Luke while Vader watches

25. As he watches, Anakin contemplates the events of the past few minutes and realizes that Luke has shown him the True Jedi Path

26. Anakin has a choice in this moment: Let Luke die or be a REAL Jedi and protect his son, even if he dies

27. Anakin doesn’t call his lightsaber (your weapons you won’t need them) he uses his SHIELD of his own body and grabs the Emperor and then he ABSORBS ALL OF THE HATE AND RAGE THE PERSONIFICATION OF EVIL CAN THROW

28. He then casts the the “Devil” into the “Pit” one of Campbell’s most famous archetypal images

29. Afterward, Anakin tells Luke “Tells your sister, you were right about me. Tell your sister, you were right....” Luke was right because there was always good in Anakin, he had blinded himself to the fact he ALWAYS had a choice and he had made some pretty shitty choices. And with ONE choice he could redeem himself and his soul. Luke wasn’t nearly as ‘hot-headed’ as you make it out. You literally ignore every single thing being done to him in an effort to manipulate him. There is a logical sequence of events HERE that make the scene in TLJ as false as can be: the LESSON Luke learned was the True Jedi Path and that everyone fucks up, it’s the choice you make after that to fix it that makes you a real Jedi. So, sure, even though it’s dumb, I’ll spot you Luke contemplating murdering his nephew in his sleep. BUT the literal lesson of RotJ means that right after that Luke would realize he made a mistake AND HE WOULD FIX IT. It’s this inability of Rian Johnson to actually fully understand the concepts and execution of George Lucas in RotJ that hamstrings the entire premise of TLJ. And also why I wrote this long description. This is also bog-standard interpretation of the original trilogy in dozens of philosophical and story-telling analyses. It’s then fully supported by the development of the prequel trilogy. This lack of sophisticated understanding of Luke and the Force in TLJ is utterly apparent as you go from ‘distraught’ Luke to ‘heroic’ Luke, he’s a demonstrably WORSE person at the end of TLJ than at the end of RotJ. In RotJ he saves his mass murderer father from himself. In TLJ, Kylo says “ Are you here to save me uncle?”

AND LUKE SAYS “NO.” That. Is. Mind-boggling. (emphasis mine - Sonfaro)

His character archetype is the redemptive hero. Yet at the end, he eggs his nephew on and PURPOSELY drives him farther into anger and hate. For a mistake that he himself (Luke) made. This is why Mark Hamill has repeatedly called out RJ and is still vocally dissing TLJ. It also means that you are making a false statement about Luke and his motives.

Here’s the thread in question.

https://www.reddit.com/r/equelMemes/comments/by54hq/lukes_outlook_seems_to_have_changed_over_the_years/

[emybain]

Renegades Titanic AU: Part 4

sis may be sick posting this but I got a break today from the madness and I’ve been itching to post the next part since like Wednesday so here she is. I was going to write more but figured it would be better splitting up this part and the next part bc this would've been a lot longer since the next part will have a lot of stuff going on. also, go watch the hecking movie if you haven't already please I dont want to spoil but I also love this au and its my current obsession okay

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4: The Next Day

Nova

    “I’ve been on my own since I was six, when my family died.” Nova tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as the wind picked up. “Well, not technically on my own…” she trailed off, fixing her eyes on the horizon. She didn’t want to mention the other’s names, especially Ace’s, in front of Adrian, due to their circumstances. 

    “With the Anarchists?” Adrian piped up, looking down at her. They were strolling along the first class deck, Nova feeling out of place in her old shirt and hand-me-down suspenders among the beautifully dressed ladies. Adrian had sought her out that afternoon after lunch and invited her on a walk along the deck, to which Nova accepted, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. Now, it was nearing late afternoon, and they had made a few laps around the ship. 

    Nova shot him a bewildered look, but laughed. “Anarchists? Is that what you call us?”

    Adrian blushed. Nova bit her lip, ignoring how adorable he looked. “Um...yeah, I guess. Because of their crimes.” She noticed how he didn’t include her in with them. Huh. 

    Nova said nothing in reply, remaining silent. They stayed like that for a bit, until Nova forced herself to speak again. She was bothered by last night's events, and felt it necessary to address them properly. 

    “I want to thank you, Mr. Everhart-”

“Adrian,” he interrupted, before coughing awkwardly. “Sorry. But please, call me Adrian.”

“Adrian,” Nova nodded, his name feeling weird on her tongue, “thank you for saving me last night.” Nova looked down at her hands. “And also thank you for your discretion about what really happened.”

    Adrian stopped, so she did as well. He turned to face her. “Of course, Miss McLain. If you don’t mind my asking, what made you think you had no choice?”

    Now it was Nova’s turn to blush. She tore her eyes from Adrian’s, despite enjoying gazing up at them, and made her way to the railing overlooking the ocean. She turned back around and leaned against it, hugging herself. 

    “I know what you’re thinking.” She risked a glance up at him. His eyebrows were furrowed together. She looked back down. “How can someone who causes pain be in pain herself?” She laughed humorlessly. 

    Adrian took a hesitant step forward. “No, that’s not what I was thinking at all. And besides, you're not the one causing people pain. They are.” The way he said they, with so much hostility, sent a shiver down Nova’s spine. He had no idea just how much she had done, how much destruction and pain was on her hands. How Nightmare was the most wanted criminal in Europe. 

    Nova pursed her lips. Deep down she knew she shouldn’t open up to him; he was a stranger, one of them. But his eyes were so kind, so filled with concern. Surely, since he had kept her secret last night from everyone, he could keep another. It wasn’t like he would rush down to third class to tell Honey or Leroy or Ingrid, either. 

Her arms tightened around her middle. “It’s just…” she swallowed. “It was everything, I suppose. And everyone. There’s this pressure to be what they want me to be, and-and I don’t know if I can do it. You know, not once have they asked me what I want. It’s always been about their needs and desires. I’m barely seventeen and it’s like the weight of the world has crashed down upon my shoulders and I’m powerless to lift it up.” 

    “That’s some serious stuff.” Adrian quirked his lips up, drawing Nova’s eyes to them. She looked away immediately. “That much stress would have dragged you to the bottom for sure.” 

    She knew he was trying to be lighthearted, possibly for her sake, but all she could do was hum in reply. “I have until this boat docks to figure out how I’m supposed to make them proud, but I’m frightened of failing. 

    “Do you care about them?” 

    Nova’s head shot up. “Pardon me?”

    Adrian repeated the question, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Nova blinked at him, stammering. “That’s...that’s very rude. Not exactly a question you should be asking me.”

Adrian shrugged. “It’s a simple question, Miss McLain. Do you care about them?”

She pushed herself away from the railing, a laugh bursting from her lips. “It’s an inappropriate question for someone of your rank and mine.”

“Why is it so hard to answer the question?” He smiled, but it was confused. 

“We are not having this conversation,” Nova said firmly, looking around them as people passed. “You are rude and presumptuous, and now I’m leaving.” She reached out to shake his hand, which he accepted. “Adrian...Mr. Everhart, it’s been a pleasure.” Although her tone said otherwise. “I have thanked you, and-”

“Insulted me.” Adrian grinned. Nova’s teeth clenched. Of course he found it amusing. He would probably recount the whole conversation to his little friend group later. Nova knew she should have just kept her mouth shut. Now she was paying for it. 

“You deserved it.” Nova looked down at the book-type thing he had been carrying around with him all afternoon, and frowned. She had noticed it earlier, but thought nothing of it. Now, though, she could see how he carried it close to him as if it were important. She let go of his hand, which she had still been shaking, and reached out for it, snatching it before he could pull back. “What is this stupid thing you’ve been carrying around, anyway?” 

Adrian did nothing, said nothing, only watched calmly as she peeked inside at its contents. The outside was made of fine leather, soft against Nova’s hands. Her head tilted. “What are you, an artist?” Flipping through each page, Nova slowly made her way to one of the lounge chairs near her, sitting down. “These are rather good.” In her peripheral vision, she saw Adrian sit down next to her, watching her closely. Her cheeks reddened. “They’re very good, in fact. I didn’t know rich people could have talent.” Only a second later did she realize that that probably wasn’t the best thing she could have said. Now she was the rude one. 

    He drew a lot of people. She recognized some of his friends she had seen the night before, drawn quite often. She also recognized his parents. There were others, too. A mother with her child, children in a park with a dog. As she kept flipping, she noticed the same face of a young woman, who, unlike the others, was posing for her picture. 

    “You like this lady,” Nova observed, admiring every detail of the drawing she was currently viewing. “Were the two of you-”

    “Oh, no.” Adrian chuckled nervously, and one peek at him confirmed he was blushing. Nova smiled. “She had beautiful hands, you see? He turned that paper over to another one, of the same lady, and pointed to her hands. “Also, she was around a lot when we were in Paris, the daughter of an old friend of my father. Very kind, but also very demanding about getting her portrait done.”

    Nova hummed, the smile still resting on her face as she looked at Adrian. “You have a gift, Adrian. These are exquisite. You see people as they are, and not what they portray themselves to be.”

    Adrian met her eyes, his own softening. “I see you, Miss McLain.”

    Nova’s heart skipped. “A-and?” 

    “I don’t think you would have jumped last night.”

__________

    They talked for a while after that, and Nova found herself enjoying the company of Adrian Everhart, son of her enemies. It wasn’t like talking to one of the others. No, he actually paid attention to her, hanging onto every syllable that came from her lips and never once interrupting. It had been so long since Nova had spoken to someone of her own age, but she also had a feeling she enjoyed talking to him for more reasons that just that. 

    She learned that he had travelled a lot when he was a child, before his mother passed away. And even when he was adopted, his dads took him everywhere with them. He, unlike her, had seen the world. He had even mentioned how he and his friends would often travel alone when they wanted to. 

    “I wish I could do that.” Nova sighed, gazing at the sunset before them. They were standing side by side at a railing, elbows barely brushing. “Just leave whenever I please without a care in the world.” Quietly, she added, “It must be nice having money.”

    Adrian drew back slightly. “Actually, we try not to spend too much money when we travel, at least my friends and I do.” His cheeks reddened. “We only recently came into a great deal of money, and frankly, none of us are used to it.”

    Clearly your parents are, Nova wanted to say, but she bit it back and swallowed it. As far as she could tell, Adrian was being honest, and he had seemed uncomfortable whenever she brought up the subject of wealth. Even the way he dressed, which was much more modest than the rest of the first class gentlemen, showed how he must not have liked his wealth. 

    “Say we travel somewhere together, even just in theory,” Nova mused, forcing a smile on her face. “Like, oh I don’t know, the beach.”

    “That’s oddly specific.” Adrian’s grin returned, warming Nova inside. “Let’s do it.”

    “Really?” Nova perked up, although she couldn’t quite place why. 

    “Yeah.” Adrian nodded specifically. “We can go with Oscar, Ruby, and Danna as well. You’d love them, trust me. They aren’t like the rest of first class. We’d go to one of those piers with rollercoasters, drink cheap beer, walk along the beach, watch the sunset...” He trailed off. Nova thought of his friends, who, like him, didn’t exactly fit the first class stereotype when it came to looks, based on what she had seen the previous night.

    “I’d like that. Very much, in fact.” And she meant it. Never in her life had she been allowed to just have fun, to be young. It was always study more to outsmart the Renegades, train harder to beat them, do this and do that to be one step ahead of them with the promise of their downfall. Revenge, revenge, revenge, had been implanted into her mind since her family was murdered, and had been watered carefully by Ace and Phobia and Winston and Ingrid and Leroy and Honey over roughly ten years. 

    “Screw everything,” she blurted out suddenly. Adrian blinked, surprised. She looked at him, a new excitement blossoming in her chest. “This world is a mess. The people in it are a mess. Fuck all of it.”

    Adrian looked like he was about to laugh, but he made a frantic shushing sound. “Lower your voice, people are looking.”

    “I don’t care.” Nova smiled widely at the sunset. “Let them hear. Fuck. Everything.”

    Behind them, someone cleared their throat. They both turned, and Nova’s eyes widened. It was the Council, and they didn’t look the least bit happy to see Nova with Adrian. Somehow, that made Nova happy. Not far behind them were Adrian’s friends, attempting to catch up once they saw Adrian.

    “Dad, Pops.” Adrian’s voice suddenly took on a slight strain. “You remember Miss McLain from last night?” Both of his dads nodded and acknowledged Nova with the same iciness from the previous night. Adrian introduced her to the others, who were kind if only out of politeness. When she was introduced to his friends, however, she was greeted with real smiles. 

    The dinner bell rang then, and Nova was instantly reminded that she was to join all of them tonight. Fear erupted inside her. 

    Adrian seemed to remember as well. “We should go get ready, right, Father?” He walked over to Hugh Everhart and the others, then turned back to Nova. “I’ll see you at dinner, Miss McLain?” There was so much hope in his eyes that any excuse Nova was about to make up dissipated. She swallowed and nodded, watching as he walked away with his dads and the rest of the Council. His friends, however, stayed behind. 

    One of them, Danna, she remembered, snapped her fingers in front of Nova’s face, drawing her attention from Adrian’s retreating figure. 

    “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Danna asked, concern in her eyes. Nova bit the inside of her cheek, suddenly losing her confidence she had previously had with Adrian. These were his friends, she reminded herself. She could trust them. 

    “Not really, Miss Bell.” Nova shook her head. 

    Danna’s lips quirked up. “It’s okay to call me Danna, you know. Miss Bell is a little too formal for my taste.”

    “The same goes for me,” Ruby piped up, all smiles. “And I’m sure for Oscar as well.” 

    “Of course.” Oscar nodded. “Although, Mr. Silva does have a ring to it.”

    “What are you planning on wearing?” Danna brought back the conversation to where it began. She looked Nova up and down, not out of distaste, but critically. When Nova gestured to what she was currently wearing, seeing as she had nothing better, Ruby shook her head. 

    “Oh, sweetheart, no, no, no.” She reached forward and touched Nova’s elbow lightly. Nova jumped from the contact. “You’re going to need something more than that.” Ruby shared a look with Danna, and then they both linked arms with Nova. 

    “C’mon.” Ruby pulled her along. “We’ll make sure you shine tonight.”

[incorrigible-groupie]

why the "I lost my best friend" scene in Good Omens is the worst

(For four reasons)

Number one ! Someone on Twitter said that the last time Aziraphale was on the phone with Crowley, Crow said that he was with an old friend. So Az thought Crow was talking about someone else when he said « best friend ». Dumbass.

Number two ! That’s something I realized on my own, but when Az is in front of Crow - and let’s not talk about the fact that the only place, THE ONLY PLACE where he materialize is next to Crow, you know, like this is where he belongs… - when he is in front of Crow, he actually can’t see him. He is totally blind, go watch it again if you don’t believe me. So not only he doesn’t know Crow thinks he is his best friend. But even if one day he finds out, he will never know how much devastated Crow was, because he didn’t see him. AH.

Number three ! Does Crow see him, or does he just feel him ? Actually ? Like, Az can’t see Crow and Crow can’t see Az too ? It could make sense, that Crowley can’t see how Aziraphale was disappointed by the fact that he wasn’t his best friend, I mean he would have say something otherwise ! You know, being the annoying demon he is.

Also, Crow seemed surprised when Az stopped to talk to him, like he didn’t expect him to disappear, while we saw clearly that Az was dissolving… like Peter Parker after the Snap!

The fact that we could see it doesn’t mean that THEY could see it.

I have a theory that, we see Crowley as David Tennant and Aziraphale as Michael Sheen because we want to see them that way. The same reason why we hear them speaking english… why would they speak english, of all languages, is God British too? That would also explain why in 6000 years no one in the universe said « hey, they looked like someone I saw on a painting, or an old photograph ! » I mean technically Az and Crow don’t have faces they’re an angel and a demon, you really want to know how they looked like in the Bible ? Don’t. It’s actually terrifying. So maybe some people see them as women, some people see them as men or women of color. The only thing that never disappear is their… mark that represent them, you know like the snake or the golden stripes like… I wonder what is Aziraphale’s mark. Could be his blue eyes (you know like the Velvet Underground song) or his white hair, I mean he never change his haircut !

He never change his haircut... I think that’s most because, well angels and demons are not supposed to look like humans. The best thing about humanity, the thing that Aziraphale and Crowley adore, is this capacity to evolve. But when you’re an angel or a demon you can’t evolve, you have one job to do, one place to go, one thing to deal with for all eternityyyyyyy. BUT Crowley doesn’t give a damn about it, so you can clearly see that he evolves with the humans by watching his haircut, and Aziraphale is WAY to scared to do that. Because the angels are bitches with him, pushing him on the wall, probably even strangling him with his bow tie. (Let’s not talk about the fact that when it’s Crowley he trusts him so much that he’s not even scared, not even if he’s traumatized. OH MY GOSH.)

Anyway, about their appearance, Crowley and Aziraphale recognized themselves maybe because they just feel each other ? How would Aziraphale know Crowley was still demon otherwise ? You know, before the oysters thingy. Az knew Crow was still a demon but the other demons didn’t realize during the trial that it wasn’t Crowley, WHAT KIND OF COLLEGUES ARE THEY ??? 

(((By the way, the whole swapping moment, unbelievable. Every details the actors put on their way to play those character, with such love it’s… DAMN. Thank you so much whoever had the idea to put David and Michael together. I knew David thanks to Doctor Who and Jessica Jones (great season 1 and loved season 3), but I discovered Michael thanks to Good Omens. He is such a great actor and… I’m actually watching Masters Of Sex, a nice show by the way it’s like Sex Education but much mature, and way sadder. Like Michael Sheen is Otis, and Lizzy Caplan is Maeve, kinda. I watch Masters Of Sex, and I’m ace ! WHAT THE HECK ?? What was I talking about again ?)))

Number four ! I really, truly believe that Az and Crow think they are friends, BUT. That’s because they didn’t experience love the same way as we, humans, does.

What is love ? Baby don’t hurt me SORRY

But seriously who was the first one who loved Az and Crow « unconditionally » ? Yeah I’m talking about the Big One. Which I think is gender fluid, you can’t mess up that much while being a woman. Also Big One Almighty have a «woman» voice but it’s okay to call Them Lord ? Also okay to say They are Jesus’ Father ?

Oh yeah and let’s talk about Jesus, because it was a big deal for the angel and the demon. So the Almighty, their Creator, their Dad/Mum, Who should forgive everyone, smashed angels into the ground so they became demons, drown an entire civilization because They weren’t happy about it, let Their own son, Their own son, die ! If this is really the definition of love, then love is an abusive bullshit. Aziraphale is with the angels, who are supposed to be good so probably full of love, a love they like to demonstrate while choking him. And Crowley, Crowley… I really think he is sad about Jesus’ death like, it pushed him on his limits. After Jesus died, he cut his gorgeous hair for the first time, he began to be bitter with Aziraphale, he didn’t even search for Aziraphale ! I’m sure Crowley adored Jesus and it was like « well if even a demon can melt for that little fellow the Almighty must be so full of love for him » and then he was nailed on a cross ! I’m sure J stands for Jesus, and like do you know what are the initials of Anthony J Crowley ? AJC ! Like After Jesus Christ ! Am I going to far ! YES OBVIOUSLY !

All I’m saying is… Letting your son to suffer ? And to die ? Is that love ? Is that what Crowley is supposed to feel for Aziraphale ? Is that what Aziraphale think about Crowley ? Heck no. So they definitely are not lovers. Soul mate ? I saw that some people think Aziraphale and Crowley were one single soul before the fall, which is kinda true because in the first version of the Book by Pratchett and Gaiman there was only one demon. And after the fall their soul might have been split in two, one being Crowley and the other being Aziraphale and… they’re always together because they only feel complete when they have each other. Which is cute. But I don’t really like the fact that they aren’t their own soul, I don’t know. I don’t like the fact that they aren’t their own individuals. Also it doesn’t explain why Az didn’t even know what was Crow’s name while Crowley knew that Aziraphale had the flaming sword AHA.

(((Oh! Some people think that Az is War’s dad, because he gave the first weapon to humanity and I’m like… YES ! And Crow gave people knowledge and free will and to have free will is to have the right to not fight, so to make peace so in a way Crowley created Peace ? Does that make sense ?)))

My point is Az and Crow are really bad at their job because that’s all it is, begin a demon or an angel at the end, it’s a job. Gabriel, Belzebuth, they’re not doing it by conviction, they’re doing it because they think they were told to do so. Well, they have the conviction that they are following a Plan but you know, like okay so we’re on this side, the enemy is on the other side but it’s just like chess there are black pawns and there are white pawns. You just have to win.

And they all follow God’s Plan ? Which is weird because demons shouldn’t follow God’s Plan right ???? Does Lucifer was like « oh yeah let’s please the Big One by creating the being who can provoke the Apocalypse what do you mean I’m a rebel ? ». Lucifer didn’t look like Tom Ellis either, by the way. Maybe, you know, in American Gods way, the fact that we believe so much that Lucifer is a monster he became one, just like the fact that Adam believe Lucifer isn’t his dad made him… not his dad. 

The power of Faith humans have.

I don’t think that it was a test for humans, like yeah the Antechrist who was raised by humans decided that Earth was worth saving kinda mean we won because there is still hope for us can i hear a yahoo… 

But actually I think that God, as messed up as They may be, is the biggest shipper of us all. 

I think the all Apocalypse thing was a test for Aziraphale and Crowley. To show their true nature.

Like I said before, they sucked at their job. Which is what make them lovable. God probably knew and God probably wanted them to be free, free of Heaven and Hell because the Apocalypse was their limit. All the other missions they did on Earth were obsolete compare to that, so all they could do was to raise their voice this time like « no freaking way we don’t want to do this mission ». If God didn’t mess with the delivery of the baby, you know the exchange and all that stuff, none of this would have happened. Az and Crow had been together for 6000 years but this mission ? This mission showed them how much they want to stay on earth, and why, and yes of course one of the reasons is so they could be together pffff…

You know, if they didn’t have the opportunity to scare the angels and the demons so they should leave them alone (during the trial), their relationship surely wouldn’t have grown that much. Having lunch to the Ritz was a big step. They wanted SO MUCH to be together, and only their status was keeping them appart. I read a theory that the main reason why Crow hated to be called «nice», when it didn’t bother him before, was because being nice is something Az love about Crow. He doesn’t care that he shouldn’t be nice, clearly he doesn’t care what the demons think of him, he’s even prepared in case they try to kill him. (YOU KNOW THE KIND OF THINGS YOU DO BETWEEN COLLEGUES !) But Az does care about what his colleagues think because he is scared of them and so he can’t love a demon, even if that demon is nice. So, when Az calls Crowley «nice», it reminds of Crowley that not only Aziraphale likes him, but also that he shouldn’t be and that’s the reason why Aziraphale can’t be with him.

But now that they’re both free, Aziraphale can call Crowley « kind » and Crowley can imagine a future with Aziraphale, they can have a relationship. They can kiss, or not, if that’s not what they are into. Aziraphale could have a beard and no bow tie to be choke with. Crowley could have his snake eyes less obvious, his snake tattoo smaller. 

With a bookshop full of plants.

And maybe one day they will realize that love isn’t something that should be abusive or maybe they will find another human word that describe their relationship. But until then there’s no word to describe how much they are connected to each other. 

It’s simply… ineffable.

[cath-with-a-c]

Nothing and Everything, 4/7

in which the rules are broken

Wordcount: ~3,1k words

TW: underage drinking, physical and emotional abuse

part 1 part 2 part 3

2002

This thing was bound to go to shit, but it was too late to quit. You don’t quit drinking after you’ve already taken a few swigs, right?

“It could use some spice, to be honest,” Desmond drawled, swirling his drink in the water bottle and taking another measured sip. “Cinnamon would work, I guess.”

Rob gave him an unimpressed look. “Since when are you a cocktail expert?” he blurted out, leaning on the tree behind him. The world was slightly askew around the edges, but the feeling would pass soon.

At least he hoped so. They had maybe a few minutes left before they’d have to get back.

Desmond gave him crooked, one-sided grin and grabbed a piece of candied fruit from the packet between them. He had a little blush high up on his cheeks. “Since I have taste, dude,” he scoffed and dropped fruit into his mouth.

Rob rolled his eyes giving his friend a little shove. What Desmond tasted he didn’t know, for him, this was just a weird mix of apple juice and booze burning its way down the throat, that was becoming gradually less awful with every swig, just as Rob's head was getting lighter and lighter.

It had all started when Maisie told them she'd managed to steal a bottle of whiskey from her father’s secret cabinet, and she had been ready to go all communist and distribute it equally to every kid over the age of fourteen. The distribution itself had been the main problem - because one, it had to be evenly measured and two, alcohol was off limits on the Farm, meaning they needed to somehow cover their tracks.

The way around getting caught in the act had taken a few more days, until today they were finally tasting and toasting their victory, 2.8 ounces per water bottle, with apple juice on top to hide the smell.

“There goes another rule,” Desmond said, letting his head fall against the tree, eyes closed. Rob watched, all but hypnotized, as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with another swig. “We’ve been drinking for fifteen minutes and the world didn’t end. How surprising.”

“And how many left?” Rob asked, taking one more sip too.

“Four,” Desmond drawled, eyes still closed, and then amended. “Well, three, you can’t really break fourth while still being here, so. Three, I guess.”

He took a big sip and grimaced. “Nothing is true, everything is permitted,” he said in a mocking tone. “More like “everything we say is true, and nothing is permitted unless we say so”, for fuck's sake.”

Rob didn't answer, taking another swig instead. He didn't really want to argue with Desmond on this again. The rising level of spite and edge in Desmond’s argument was getting uncomfortable, The Creed was there to protect and guide them, why try to tear it down so much, especially when using it?

To his relief, Desmond wasn’t really in a fighting mood too. He huffed a sigh, swirling his drink absently, and glanced down on his watch. “Ten minutes before break ends, guess we better head out,” he said, taking one more gulp, putting the bottle down under the log they were sitting on and getting up.

Rob nodded, setting down his own drink and gingerly getting up too. He still had enough sobriety left to realize that, even if his feet were steady enough, any and all acrobatics were out of the question.

Desmond, who seemed surprisingly better at holding his liquor, put a steadying hand over Rob’s shoulders. “Let’s take a long way back, okay?”

They’ve crossed the woods, heading back along the running track that surrounded the Farm as some sort of old fortifications, red stripes on the trees marking every hundred feet. The walk through familiar woods cleared Rob’s head a little, and, by the time they’ve reached the Farm, he was pretty sure no one could tell he was tipsy.

He turned his head to Desmond to say as much when all of a sudden Desmond’s hand on his shoulder tensed and he took it off. “Mom,” he greeted in a forcefully light tone that nearly made Rob cringe.

He turned back to see Mrs. Miles briskly walking towards them with a deep frown on her face. She stopped just a few feet ahead, arms crossed over her chest, brown eyes hard. “Son,” she replied, mimicking his voice. “Be a dear, let me smell your breath.”

Rob’s stomach dropped. “That’s a weird request, mom,” Desmond said lightly, and Maria scowled at him.

“Now,” she demanded icily, and Desmond’s shoulders dropped. Mrs. Miles looked at both of their guilty faces for a few seconds and nodded. "With me."

She led them to the center of the Farm in dead silence. Rob sneaked a glanced at Desmond, who was looking straight ahead, and Rob wasn’t sure he was even blinking.

In front of the central hall, there was a group of teens surrounded by a group of adults. Rob counted the others hastily. Five. Apart from them, there were five others, meaning that two weren't caught, and, aside from clearly anxious Maisie and red-eyed Colin, everyone seemed more or less fine.

As if echoing Rob's thoughts, Desmond sighed in relief and, glancing at him, drew a letter S in the air.

Oh, that's right. Sammy wasn't there. And Daria. The two nerds must've been too busy for a drink. Or just sneaky enough, who cares, it was a relief either way.

"I think that's all of them," Maria said, joining other disgruntled adults. "Where's Bill?"

Ned, Maisie's father nodded at the central hall. "Said he'd be in a moment." he then gave the teens a sidelong glance. "The whole lot of them, eh? That's new. Do you know where they've got the stuff?"

Maisie visibly tensed at his words, and Desmond gently patted her on the back.

"It's gonna be fine," he whispered just loud enough for her and Rob to hear, a comforting lie. Rob could honestly appreciate his effort

"No, they wouldn't tell," Colin's mother, Theo, grumbled, eyeing her son.

“They will, eventually,” Maria assured her, and Rob shivered a little.

The chatter died, as William Miles emerged from the central hall with Rob's own dad in tow. His face was a particular kind of stormy, but compared to William, he was completely chill.

"Line up!" William barked and before Rob could even comprehend what was said, his legs moved, placing him between Desmond and Colin. Their shoulders brushed and Rob realized that Desmond was tense, as if ready for an attack.

William paced in front of them, looking every teen in the face, like he was trying to read their minds, but not sparing Desmond even a glance. "Which one of you did it?“ he asked in a chillingly even voice. "You better tell me, or you are all going to be punished as severely as whoever started it. Think about it.“

The only answer he got was silence. Rob carefully watched as the muscles of William’s face twitched, and felt a little wave of weird satisfaction. They weren't all best friends, but there was no way they would tattle. No one was going to throw Maisie under the bus, no one-

"I did it," Desmond said, in a monotone. He almost sounded bored. "It was my idea."

Rob turned to him, almost choking on air. Desmond was looking straight ahead, with the same blank stare that had been haunting Rob's dreams for years.

For a few moments the silence around them was deafening like everything has stopped until it was broken by a cry:

"Wait, no, it's not him, it's me!“ Maisie stepped forward, visibly trembling. "I stole the bottle, not Desmond!“

William pinned her to the spot with the same icy stare. "Ms. Snow, as commendable it is to stand up for your peers, you shouldn't try to take the blame for my son."

Maisie made a strangled sound. "But-" she started again only to be cut off by Desmond.

"Mais. Stop it," he said, turning to her. "You know you didn't do it."

He then turned again, calmly looking his father in the eyes. "I did it. I stole the bottle from Mr. Snow's cabinet."

He continued, explaining the steps he took, sounding so sure, Rob was deterred for a moment. Desmond was selling it like a good actor sells a role. As if nudged, Rob looked at adults, who were murmuring about themselves, nodding along.

“Why am I not surprised,” Maria sighed, looking tired.

It dawned on Rob that this was something expected, they were expecting Desmond to be the one behind this.

Suddenly Rob remembered, how lucky they seemed as kids, how a lot of problems and pranks, guaranteed to get them a whooping, would go unnoticed.

Had they really?

"Step forward, Desmond," William's voice cut through his thoughts. Desmond's shoulder, tense and hot under thin t-shirt brushed Rob's and he barely curbed the urge to grab his friend by the arm.

“You have disappointed me, son,” William said in a low, flat tone, and Desmond rolled his eyes.

“Big fucking news,” he said, spitefully, and William backhanded him in an instant, making his head whip to the side. The slap resonated, making Rob wince.

“What,” William all but growled, sounding like a big, angry dog. “Did I tell you about swearing, boy?”

“Sorry, I forgot,” Desmond murmured, gingerly touching his cheek, shoulders dropping, fight seemingly drained from him.

“Bill,” Maria reprimanded, glancing around. “Not in front of the others.”

William spared her a quick look and nodded. “You are right,” he said and turned to adults. “Everyone is dismissed. Desmond, with us.”

Without another word, he walked away and Desmond followed, like a puppet on strings, throwing Rob one last glance over the shoulder.

Rob wanted to run after him, to ask, why the hell he would do something so stupid, but his own father had already taken him by the shoulder and was leading him away, to their home.

Because his father was a virtual saint, Rob was let off the hook with minimal casualties - he just sighed, asked Rob to be more responsible in the future and shifted the curfew by a couple of hours. William wasn’t so lenient, though - the next day after mandatory morning training, he made all of those caught line up in front of the other kids for a public shunning, giving them an almost an hour lecture on why their actions are a disgrace to the community and the Brotherhood at large, most of which went completely over Rob’s head because he was too busy trying to find Desmond anywhere.

Desmond wasn’t there. Which, probably, shouldn’t have been that surprising - that happened before, he would disappear after they got busted, and then he’d be back later in the day, but something wasn’t sitting comfortably in Rob’s chest. They’d never, like, had been caught breaking an actual rule before, and Desmond’s confession certainly didn't give him any points too.

The lecture concluded with the punishment being dealt - they’d have to run ten miles instead of five every morning for the next four weeks, and they’re not allowed to have water bottles on them for the same period of time - and the teens were finally allowed to resume their daily routines, which Rob did, still being on a lookout for Desmond.

Desmond didn’t show up throughout the day, and the next day, and the day after that. Rob, dread settled comfortably in the pit of his stomach, asked around, but no one has seen him since the Whiskey Incident. As Maisie, who also noticed his absence and was visibly distraught by that, put it, this was like Desmond had disappeared from the face of the earth.

By the sixth day, Rob had almost worked up the courage to just go and ask Mrs. Miles about Desmond. He was sitting on their clearing, having just seen Sam and Penny off, sharpening the knives and rehearsing in his head what he was going to say, when-

“Rob,” he heard and his head whipped up. Desmond was standing in the middle of the clearing, looking at him with a half-smile.

“Desmond!” Rob dropped the knife and sprang on his feet, breathing freely for the first time in days, the knot in his chest dissipating.

He almost crushed Desmond with a hug, provoking a small laugh.

“Dude, I was gone for… for… for a few days, stop acting like I was in a war or something,” he said finally and lightly tapped Rob on the back. “Let go, I wanna sit.”

Rob did let go, with a momentary reluctance and got a good look on his friend. It was a habit of his since they were little and just getting into training and trouble - scan for injuries first. Desmond looked fine, more or less, maybe a little bit paler than usual, and his gaze wandered a little. As soon as Rob let go, he swayed a little before plopping on the ground with a wince.

“Dude, where’ve you been?” Rob asked, sitting down too. “It’s been days!”

“How many?” Desmond suddenly asked and Rob frowned.

“It’s Friday now, it’s been five full days since the whiskey,” he said slowly. “Desmond, what happened?”

Desmond shrugged, leaning against the tree with another wince and draping an arm over his eyes. “I was in the Box,” he finally answered.

Oh. Rob knew the place, was there with Desmond once, kinda long ago, when they got caught stealing cookies by Maria and were put there to wait for their fathers. It wasn’t really a box, just a small room with an equally small adjacent bathroom. It was eerie, dark, with the only light being the one coming from the small, grey-tinted bathroom window, nothing but a sleeping bag to sit on and pretty much no sound but his and Desmond’s breathing, because the walls were soundproofed. It has only been a couple of hours, but Rob was still uncomfortable remembering it.

“Wait, you’ve been there for the whole time?” he asked, incredulously. When Desmond didn’t answer, he shook his head. “Dude...That’s long. They didn’t let you out at all? What about food?”

“Nah, they didn’t,” Desmond replied in tired monotone. “They don’t talk to me when I’m in the Box. And I was fed, once a day, not that it helped a lot. They got me oats, you know I hate those. I ended up barfing most of them up anyway.”

Rob silently got up, trying and failing to imagine how it could feel - alone, in the dark, no sense of time, no food, just darkness, and walls and your own breathing. It felt nauseating, Moving over to his stash, he pulled out a couple of protein bars. When he turned back, Desmond was already lying on the ground, eyes still closed. Rob tossed the bars on his chest.

“Eat,” Rob said, settling down again.

“Thanks. Don’t worry, It’s fine,” Desmond said forcefully, starting to unwrap the first bar. “At least I didn’t need to train with the mess on my back, that’d be shitty.”

Rob stilled “What mess?” he asked slowly. Instead of answering, Desmond just sat upright with a wince and pulled at his t-shirt. making it ride up. His back was painted with welts, most of them already yellow, but some looking like they’d barely scabbed over. The nausea returned in full force.

“Your father did that?” he blurted out, and Desmond sighed, letting the thin cotton fall down again.

“Yep. Speaking of which, I should probably go,” he said with regret, looking at his watch. “He and mom are out of the house, but I think they’ll be back soon.”

Rob nodded and got up first, grabbing Desmond by the wrist and pulling him to his feet.

The short walk back to the Farm was filled with the crackling of the wrap, as Desmond devoured the bars and asked after others in-between the bites. Rob answered, giving him as much info as he knew, and suddenly realized, that others mostly got out as easy as him. Colin had it a little rough with his strict mom, but otherwise, everyone was… fine. Even Maisie's father decided it was a clever enough prank to be treated as such. Don't do it again, no dessert for a couple of weeks, and that's all.

Desmond hummed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Good," he said. "I probably won't be coming to our place in some time."

"What? Why?" Rob asked, frowning.

"Dad said if I have enough time to steal bottles and give my peers the alcohol poisoning, that means I have enough time for more training and chores,” Desmond shrugged. “So… Not really sure if I'd have long enough broken to come over."

Robert wanted to reply, but they have already stepped out of the woods behind Desmond’s house. His window on the second floor, looking out to the forest was wide open.

"Gimme a boost?" Desmond asked and Rob nodded, standing with his back to the wall and locking his hands. Desmond stopped and looked around again. Rob could only see a part of his face, but he could tell longing in Desmond’s eyes. Longing and anger.

"You know what?" Desmond said, turning back. He stepped into Rob's personal space, warm brown eyes shining feverishly. His mouth was twisted into an almost hateful sneer. "Fuck the rules."

He then stepped up and Rob boosted him without thinking, confused by this sudden change of attitude. When he glanced up, Desmond was already in, looking out of the window, face all hard lines, jaw set.

"Fuck. The. Rules," he repeated before disappearing into the house without a goodbye.

Rob stayed, frozen to the spot for a few moments, and then turned around and walked away. There was some new emptiness inside him, and he suddenly felt very tired. He could still see Desmond’s angry face in his mind.

William Miles passed him by, cold and confident as ever, and Rob stopped abruptly, every hair on his head standing up. He thought of yellow bruises and red welts, of a dark, empty room, how all he needed to do was be at home in 1900 hours instead of 2100.

Why was William so harsh on Desmond? Wasn’t beating and five days in the Box enough of a punishment?

“Nothing is true, everything is permitted,” a little voice in the back of his head reminded him. Rob scoffed and shook his head.

Maybe everything was permitted, he thought defiantly. But this shouldn't be.

part 5

ao3 link

[maybieawriter]

Night Off | Shawn Mendes Fluff

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Y/N 

Word Count: 3,200+ Warnings: summarized smut at the end Summary: Dad! Shawn and pregnant! y/n need a night to themselves ( Hi everyone, I apologize for the horrible ending! I couldn’t seem to write anything worth posting so I put a bit of summarized smut. I am not confident in my smut-writing-skills at all, so I kind of jumped around it. The ACE Family inspired me for this in the beginning too. Hope you enjoy this, even though I kept skipping things. 

Y/N woke up from the rain hitting the bedroom windows. The alarm clock on her nightstand reads “3:17 am.” She rubs her 30 week bump as she listens to the sound of rain in the drainage pipe along the roof. She thinks back to when her and Shawn used to cuddle on the couch and fall asleep to the pouring rain. His old apartment had the best view of the CN Tower and the Toronto skyline. She almost wishes that they still lived in that apartment just to watch the rain from the giant living room windows. However, after her and Shawn had been married for a few months, they both decided it was time to move to and live in a family sized home. So now, here they are 4 years later, in a suburban section of Toronto, not too far from his parents in Pickering.

As the rain continues to pour, Y/N feels the need to curl into Shawn’s arms. The baby in her belly was not kicking her at the moment so she was thankful for that. However, even if the baby started to kick, the feeling of Shawn’s hand on her belly calmed the baby. She turns to reach for him, but his side of the bed is empty. She quickly remembers that their 18 month old daughter, Ella, had woken them up earlier that same night. Shawn got up to calm her down and Y/N had fallen back asleep before he returned to bed. She honestly wondered if he ever made it back into your shared bedroom.

Slowly getting up, her hands instantly cradle her stomach. The bump was very prominent now, and getting up took a bit more effort. Yesterday was her 30 weeks mark, so she only has about 10 more weeks until number baby 2. Y/N started towards the hallway and went directly to Ella’s room. Her bedroom door was open half way, probably from when Shawn came in. She pushed the door open slightly as she walked in. The room was only lit up by a small unicorn night light plugged into the wall. Needless to say it was rather dark in the room, but Y/N could see just what she needed to. It was hard for Y/N to contain her laughter as she approaches Ella’s crib, due to the fact that Shawn was laying in the crib with Ella with his feet in the air, resting against the railing.

Y/N wanted to go back to her and Shawn’s room to grab her phone to take a picture. But, she stayed right next to the crib, gently leaning on the railing, watching her husband and daughter sleep in the crib.

She began to think of all the conversations she had with Shawn before Ella was born. Shawn always said that he would take time off from his music and touring to stay home with Y/N and raise their kids. And, it didn’t take long for Y/N to realize that he was being serious. Shawn hasn’t been on tour since before the first pregnancy was announced. Obviously the fans were upset, but he promised them that he was still making music while raising his family.

Ella stirred in her sleep and moved further away from her dad. Y/N took this opportunity to wake up Shawn, but she didn’t want to startle him. Her hand moves through his long brown curls, slightly scratchy his scalp to wake him. It didn’t take much of that before Shawn’s eyes opened only to see his wife staring at him inside of their daughters crib. Clearly he didn’t realize that he fell asleep after laying with her. He looks over at Ella and then back at Y/N, and motions for her to move away from the crib so he can get out. Slowly and carefully, he makes it out of the crib and sighs. Y/N pulls him into a hug and doesn’t move, she just holds him until he is ready to leave Ella’s room. She could tell that he didn’t mind staying in her crib, but Y/N knew that his back would be hurting the next day. She takes his hand to lead him back to the bedroom, quietly shutting Ella’s door on their way out. Once the couple makes it back to their bed, Shawn is more awake and wants to cuddle with his wife. He pulls her against his chest and places a hand on her stomach, his thumb moving across her skin.

He buries his head into her neck and mumbles, “she wouldn’t stop crying. I think she had a bad dream. Climbing in her crib felt like the only option.” She knows that Shawn is trying to reason with her.

“I would have done the same thing,” Y/N whispers to him softly.

“How’s the other little one doing?” He asks while rubbing your belly a bit more than before.

“Quiet, which is okay because that means he’s not kicking.”

Shawn immediately perks up, leaning on his elbow, “He? What makes you think it’s a boy?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N chuckles. “I just have a feeling.”

At this point, Shawn has already started thinking all of the possible things he can do with his son. Teaching him how to play guitar or how to play soccer or hockey. Ella hasn’t yet started her guitar lessons with Shawn yet, but he gets more excited the older she gets, so he can finally teach her. Shawn was the best father to Ella. He sings to her almost every night, reads to her as much as possible and is almost always on diaper duty.

“You have a feeling, huh? Well what if I think it’s another girl?” Shawn says back to his wife.

“I wouldn’t mind having another girl. I just think this one is a boy. We only have 10 more weeks to go. Hopefully he or she will come early, give me a break.” Y/N says. When she was pregnant with Ella, she was 8 days late. They are both hoping that this baby won’t take as long to arrive.

“I kind of hope it’s a boy too. Just to even it out I guess,” Shawn laughs.

“Oh don’t lie, you want another girl,” Y/N smirks at him.

Shawn looks at her, knowing she’s right and he doesn’t want to admit it. As his head falls into his pillow, he mumbles “ughhhhhhh why are you always right.”

“I’m your wife, I’m always right.” She starts to comb through Shawn’s hair, it messy and needs a wash, but it’s hard to shower with an 18 month old on the loose.

With his face still in the pillow he asks, “can we bring Ella to my parents for a night or two? I really want you to myself before the baby comes. And, to be honest, Ella is kind of a cock blocker.”

It takes everything in Y/N not to laugh out loud, knowing if she does she will wake up Ella down the hall. “Sure babe, I’ll call Mom in the morning. We should get some sleep though, Ella will be up in a few hours.”

He turns onto his back again, lifting his arm to allow her to curl against his side, her leg wrapping over him. “Well then we better get to sleep,” he says looking down at her, his curls still a wild mess. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N says back to him, staring right into his eyes. She rests her head back on his chest, letting sleep consume them both.

In the morning, Shawn wakes up before Y/N and Ella. Shawn turns his head and sees Y/N still sleeping soundly, the baby in her belly most likely sleeping too. He glances at the clock, reading 7:09 am, and knows it’s only a matter of time before Ella wakes up. As much as he wants to stay in bed with Y/N all day, he gets up slowly and carefully not wanting to wake his wife up.

Shawn moves slowly to the bedroom door, avoiding the areas of the floor where is gets creaky when someone walks on it. He opens it, quickly slides out of the room, and gently shuts it behind him. He makes his way down the short hallway do his daughters bedroom, pressing his ear against the door to hear her if she is awake. He can hear her fussing a bit, so he knows she is about to cry or shout soon. He enters her room with a smile and sees that she is just waking up. Her brown curly hair a complete mess after her slumber, and her cheeks pink as ever. Leaning over her crib, Ella’s eyes immediately go to her dad. Instantly her arms dart up with the cutest chubby graby-hand motion. He chuckles down at her and reaches in to pull her out. Wanting her to remain quiet, he uses a very quiet voice, “good morning sweet pea, how did you sleep?”

Ella, who can only babble, replies with a soft “ahhhhhhh” to her dad.

“Oh really, that well huh?” He questions her jokingly, placing her down on the changing table. “I think you only slept so good because daddy got in your crib with you. Isn’t that right?”

She only makes small squeaks to respond to him while he changes her diaper.

After Shawn changers Ella, he carries her downstairs into the kitchen and sets her in the highchair. The whole time Shawn tries to buckle her into the seat, Ella keeps squeezing Shawn’s fingers, not wanting to let him go yet.

“Ella, you gotta let go of daddy now,” Shawn begins to say in his best baby voice. “I need to make you and mommy some breakfast.”

Of course Ella has no idea what her dad is saying, but she smiles and lets go of his fingers, giggling in the process. While Shawn is busy making breakfast, he talks to Ella about the new song he’s been writing about Y/N. He knows that she can’t understand, but her responsive baby cheers make it seem like she does. One of Ella’s cheers is loud enough to wake up Y/N upstairs, Shawn quickly shushing her.

Y/N sits up in bed instantly wondering why her daughter was squealing so loudly, and then she noticed her husband is missing from their bed. She raises from the bed slowly, and walks into the bathroom. Now that she’s awake that means the baby in her belly will be awake. After freshening up, Y/N heads downstairs making her way to the kitchen. Stepping into the bright room, she sees her husband sitting on the stool next to their daughters highchair. Ella hands are covered in smooshed banana, cheerios are all over the floor, and her face is slightly red from the strawberries Shawn cut up for her.

Ella notices her mother walk into the room, her arms immediately reach for her as she lets out more squeals. “Good morning honey,” Y/N giggles at Ella as she walks over to them. Shawn hands instinctively go to Y/N’s belly gently caressing it. Ella laughs in response to her mother. Y/N turns to Shawn, leaning on him a bit, “and good morning to you, handsome.”

Shawn blushes a bit before kissing her. “Good morning, beautiful” he gushes to Y/N. “I made you breakfast too,” he admits pointing at the countertop to her toast, eggs and glass of orange juice.

“Thank you,” she smiles at him, leaning down for another quick kiss. Ella lets out a small yell to announce that she is done with her breakfast.

Shawn nods to Y/N, “I’ll keep Ella occupied while you have breakfast.” He removes Ella’s highchair tray and sets it near the sink, then picks her up. The parents laugh and a few cheerios fall off of Ella as she is lifted from the seat, causing her to let out a few giggles too.

“I’ll call mom once I’m done. What time should I tell her?”

“4:30,” Shawn responds. “I’m taking you to dinner, we’ll go after we drop Ella off.”

Y/N’s call with Shawn’s mother is mostly filled with Karen being excited to see her granddaughter. Y/N laughs at Karen a bit because she saw Ella 5 days ago. “So we will drop her off around 4:30 pm and pick her up around 11:00 am tomorrow morning, is that alright?”

“Anytime, you can take as long as you’d like. I’ll let Manny know. See you soon hun.” Karen rushes to get the already clean house prepared for Ella, quickly hanging up on Y/N.

The day went by fast as Ella was excited to see her grandparents again. They always spoiled her a little too much, but isn’t that what grandparents are for? Before they knew it, it was time to leave. Shawn puts Ella in the carseat and jumps into the driver’s seat, seeing Y/N already settled in the passenger’s seat next to him, silently rubbing her belly. The drive to Manny and Karen’s house is only about 25 minutes so they managed to sing along with a few songs on the radio. Ella of course screaming the lyrics that she really doesn’t know. As they pull up the driveway, Shawn noticeably perks up in his seat, making Y/N laugh.

“What’s got you all excited?”

“We are about to drop off Ella and actually have a night to ourselves again. I think I’m more than a little excited,” Shawn replies as he parks the car.

“Well you’re gonna have to contain your excitement until we get home, love. I don’t think that your parents would appreciate us using their driveway to have car sex. Plus I can barely move in here,” Y/N smirks at him, unbuckling herself.

Shawn stops all movement to look at his wife, “don’t tempt me.” Her eyes widen and he gives her a quick kiss by leaning over the center console. Shawn grabs Ella from her carseat while Y/N grabs her overnight bag. The second that Manny opens the door Ella screams in joy and reaches out for him. Manny quickly takes Ella from Shawn before she inadvertently jumps out of his arms.

Karen, Manny, Y/N and Shawn make small talk about Ella for a few minutes before Karen says, “alright you two, we’ve got it from here. Go and enjoy a night out and we will see you tomorrow morning.” Of course the young parents listen to her, but not before smothering Ella in kisses and hugs.

Shawn gives his daughter another sloppy kiss on the cheek, using his baby voice, “mommy and daddy will see you tomorrow okay, lovebug.”

Ella giggles and says, “bye daddy. Bye mommy.”

As much as Y/N and Shawn want a night out, they know they will miss Ella. Making their way back to the bar, Shawn lifts Y/N up in a bridal pose and carries her the rest of the way to the car. Y/N takes the small opportunity to kiss his neck, as he places her in the passenger seat.

“Baby, you shouldn’t do that right now, because I will take you right here in my parents driveway if I have to,” Shawn whimpers to Y/N.

-   skipping dinner    -

Back at home Shawn and Y/N decide on a movie to watch. The house is quiet without Ella’s giggles bouncing off the walls. Shawn and Y/N curl up on the couch, her legs on-top of his, and his arm around her, and opposite hand on her belly. Shawn had picked the movie “Baywatch” which has plenty of humor in it. However, half-way through Y/N notices the lead actresses are very pretty, and very thin. Before Y/N was pregnant with both Ella and baby number 2, she wasn’t skinny. Her realistic body type is what lured Shawn to her, but now she wonders if Shawn would want her to slim down after the baby is born. Shawn notices after a few minutes that Y/N is quieter than normal, he pauses the movie, causing her attention to go to him.

“Why’d you pause it?” Y/N worries.

“Why are you so quiet? You are never this quiet during a movie,” Shawn ponders while moving closer to her, even those she’s basically on-top of him already.

Y/N sighs knowing Shawn won’t stop pestering her until she answers his question. “I just….I just feel like I’m not attractive anymore,” Y/N lets out. She starts to get teary eyed, “having another baby is going to be great, but I feel like you’re not going to think i’m hot or sexy after I give birth.”

Shawn’s sadness immediately shows, he’s upset that his wife is self-conscious. His arms wrap around her tighter as tears start to fall, letting her bury her face into his neck. “Baby,” Shawn whispers. “I would never in my life think that you are unattractive. You are the most beautiful and sexy woman in the world to me. I never want you to think that I don’t completely adore you.” He pauses for a minute, getting a little choked up. Y/N pulls her face out of Shawn’s neck, leaving it wet with tears, and rests her forehead against his. “You are carrying our second child, of course your body is going to change, but my love for you isn’t going to. I will never think your body isn’t sexy because you’ve had my children. You are -”

Before he can finish, Y/N cuts him off with a steamy kiss. Her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and moving so she is straddling him. Shawn’s massive hands run over her butt, gently squeezing them to make her moan.

Y/N pulls away slightly whimpering, “I love you.” “I love you so much Shawn, thank you.” She doesn’t even let her breathless husband speak before pulling him in for another kiss. A mini-makeout session starts and within a few moments, both Shawn and Y/N are without shirts.

Shawn pulls back for a moment to catch his breath, “I love you too, and I plan on showing you how much I love you tonight and everyday for the rest of our lives.” Y/N’s face turns a deep red, her hands moving to pull his face to meet hers again. Things move quickly as Shawn carries Y/N to the bedroom, laying her down on their king-size bed. Clothes are removed and thrown across the room. Shawn hadn’t recently seen Y/N’s chest, which is slightly larger than usual due to the pregnancy. “Oh baby,” Shawn moans lips against her chest within an instant. Let’s just say that Y/N and Shawn’s whimpers, moans, and groans were heard by the neighbors until they both past out around 1:00 am from exhausting each other out.

Waking up to a quiet house is rare, so sleeping in was no issue for Shawn and Y/N. Around 9:30 am, Shawn woke up to soft snores coming from his wife, who was practically on top of him. Their intertwined legs meant he couldn’t move, but he didn't care. Being this close to his wife, without a raging 18-month old in the house felt amazing. He stares at her while she remains asleep, wondering how he got so lucky.

[bazzledazzled]

Fuel for Disaster- Chapter 1

Summary: Simon Snow only wanted to be Baz’s fake boyfriend to get back at his extremely homophobic father. That was the only reason (and to find out what he was plotting).

It wasn’t like he was actually going to fall in love with him.

Comments: Thank you so much to @dragonsandgayvampires and @abbie-the-unicorn for editing this! I’ve been desperate for a Snowbaz fake dating AU so here we are

Trigger Warning: Homophobia

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

read it on ao3

“I just don’t understand, Basil.” A voice says from behind the door.

“Don’t understand what?” Baz roars. Simon has never heard Baz roar. Baz might be a self centered prick, but he always kept his emotions in check. Simon could get him pretty riled up, but never like this. 

Maybe it would be better if there was some context. There’s a week every year at Watford where parents are allowed to come and visit the students to see how things are going. Typically, only first years ever really got a visit, but something seemed to have piqued Baz’s dad’s interest that caused him to pay a visit. 

Honestly, Simon shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Something about this conversation seemed too personal, Baz didn't even seem to share his secrets with his friends. Were Dev and Niall his friends? Baz doesn’t seem to treat them that way.... 

“Why you would choose this! You know how important presentation is to this family.” Baz scoffs. 

“Being gay is not a choice!” Yep, definitely way too personal. Simon should leave. He really should. 

“You just haven’t found the right girl yet, Baz,” Baz’s dad says, sounding almost annoyed. And tired, as if this was a conversation they had many times before. Simon could practically hear Baz’s nostrils flare through the door. He even saw it in his mind, with his perfect brows drawn together angrily. The look in his grey eyes would be absolutely vicious, like a viper rearing back to bite. 

“Father. I am seventeen. When are you going to realize that this isn’t a phase?” The tone of Baz’s voice... it’s so dejected. He sounds like he’s lost all hope, like he’s drowning. He sounds like he’s been drowning for years, calling out for help but nobody has ever come. 

“Baz. I don’t know what kind of teenage rebellion you think this is, but you are never, under any circumstances, going to have a boyfriend.” There’s a moment of tense silence. Simon knows what Baz is doing. He’s calculating his best move. 

���Try and stop me, father. Just. Try.” 

Simon is about to turn away and leave when the door bursts open. In the doorway is Baz’s dad. 

Baz’s dad is a whole new brand of terrifying. Honestly, Simon isn’t too surprised considering Baz, but Baz’s dad holds something even more unsettling. Simon’s heart pounds in his chest. 

“Simon Snow,” He says, sounding disinterested. Simon squeaks, but he never gets to stutter out a reply. Mr. Grimm-Pitch pushes past him, walking down the hall as if nothing happened. As if he hadn’t just gotten in a huge argument with his son. 

Simon walks into the room, not sure what to expect. Somehow he was both surprised and not surprised to find Baz with a bored expression on his face as he opened a book. It was almost  as if the conversation didn’t phase him. Honestly, Simon started to wonder if it was even real. 

Simon had a tendency to get himself into messes, which may have led him to where he’s at now, pulling at his curls as a crazy plot brews in his head. 

A few hours later, after Baz had left to go do vampire things and came back to find Simon “sleeping,” the sniffles began to start. 

At first, Simon wasn’t sure he was hearing correctly. Eight years, and he’s never heard Baz cry once. It had to be in his head. 

But then the sniffles came again, and Simon knew that he wasn’t imagining it. 

“Baz are you crying?” Simon tries not to sound like he’s mocking him, but his voice sounds so indifferent that Baz takes it the wrong way. 

“Fuck off, Snow.” Simon sits up on his bed, reaching over to turn on a lamp. He grunts at the way the light stings his eyes. 

Baz is facing away from Simon, all scrunched up in a ball. His shoulders are hunched and his hair is a disaster. He looks so unlike Baz. He looks so vulnerable. 

“Hey,” Simon says, hitting Baz lightly with a pillow. That gets him to sit up. He flashes Simon the most vicious glare, but it doesn’t really work when his eyes are so red and puffy. 

“What do you want, Snow?” Baz sounds tired.  “What’s wrong?” Simon says seriously. Baz looks down, kicking his feet against his bed, a frown on his face.  “It’s none of your business,” Baz snaps.  “Course it is! I’m your roommate and you’re crying!”  “Since when do you care?” Baz hisses viciously. Simon groans.  “Merlin why are you such a prick?” Silence falls across the room. Baz isn’t crying anymore, but Simon still doesn’t want to leave this alone.  “Is this about your dad?” Baz’s head whips up so fast that Simon isn’t sure how he didn’t break it.  “What?” Simon leans back a little. He probably should stop. It’s not a good idea to piss off your deadly, evil, vampire roommate. But his brain doesn’t seem to be getting the message.  “I overheard you and your dad arguing earlier.” Baz sneers, like he isn’t bothered by that. But after years of looking for any emotion in Baz’s eyes, Simon knows that it’s bothering him a lot more than he’s letting on.  “So what, Snow? You’re going to spread rumors that I’m gay as well as a vampire?” Baz doesn’t even sound scared. He just sounds done.  “What— no. No that’s not what I—“ Baz huffs, standing up. He starts to make for the door, but Simon darts up and blocks his path.  “I wouldn’t do that,” Simon says, looking Baz in the eye. They’re close. They’ve been this close before, but for some reason this feels more intimate. It causes a blush to rise up into Simon’s cheeks.  “What do you want from me, Snow?” Baz says, crossing his arms. Simon doesn’t know what he wants.  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Simon’s voice drops low. Baz’s lowers to match.  “Tell you what? That I’m gay? That my father is a homophobic arsehole? That he doesn’t think I can find a boyfriend that will actually love me? Crowley Snow, these are things I’d prefer not to share with my half-wit roommate.”  “I’m sorry.”  “Sorry for what, Snow?” Baz says, sounding exasperated. Simon straightens, pulling himself up to his fullest hight. It doesn’t help, though. Baz is still taller.  “I’m sorry your father’s an arsehole. He doesn’t have any right to hate you because of who you’re attracted to.”  “Thanks Snow.” Baz doesn’t sound thankful. He just sounds pissed off.  Simon sighs, stepping aside. Baz glares at him, then walks swiftly out the door, shutting it behind him.  Simon sinks into his bed, his thoughts filling with Baz (which wasn’t too abnormal). 

In the care homes, there were sometimes boys and girls who would come in after being kicked out of the place they called home for so long. They were the kindest and sweetest people, but everyone always judged them. They were judged because they liked guys instead of girls and girls instead of guys and everything in-between. They were tossed aside because they felt like more of a guy than a girl or a girl than a guy. They were rejected, just like Simon, because they were different.  And Simon hated it. He hated that Baz was going through the same thing with his father. He hated how much it made Baz lose all of his control.  Simon hated to admit it, but he hated how heartbroken Baz sounded. Like he actually believed his father when he said a boy would never love him like that (especially considering Baz was, well, Baz).  Simon sat straight up in his bed, his eyes wide. It was crazy, and definitely would probably get him into trouble later. He wasn’t even sure if Baz would agree, but maybe, maybe....  Maybe it was time to prove Baz’s dad wrong. 

Baz was hoping he’d walk in to the room to find Simon sleeping soundly without a care in the world, but he should’ve known better than to hope. Simon was frustratingly stubborn and apparently this was something that bothered him enough to wait up. In any other situation, Baz may have felt touched, his idiotic feelings going wild, but right now he just wanted to let it go. 

“Baz,” Simon says, looking at a loss. And also adorable. Merlin, why was he always so adorable?  Baz raises an eyebrow.  “That is my name.” Baz hopes he looks as cool and collected as he thinks he does as he looks down at Simon.  “I had an idea.”  “Brilliant. Try not to kill me while you’re at it,” Baz says, tugging off his shoes. Simon scrunches his hands in his curls.  “I think I know how to get back at your father.” Baz huffs, sitting down on his bed.  “Snow, I’m not interested in—“  “I’ll be your boyfriend.” Baz isn’t sure he heard Simon correctly. His vampire senses allowed him to hear a lot more than a normal person, but in no universe would Simon Snow ever want to be Baz’s boyfriend.  “What?” Simon stands, walking over to Baz’s bed. Baz’s breath hitches as Simon sits down.  “You’re going home for Christmas, right?”  “Yes?” Simon is shifting anxiously and his magic is pouring out of him. Baz almost takes him by the shoulders and tells him to breathe, but he doesn’t.  “How about you invite me over for Christmas and I pretend to be your boyfriend to prove your father wrong.” Simon Snow is an absolute idiot. Why did Baz like him so much?  “And how do you propose we do that?” Simon huffs, pulling at his hair even more. His curls are thoroughly rumpled.  “Your dad said that you could never be in love with a boy and that a boy could never be in love with you, right?” Baz looks at him suspiciously.  “Right...”  “So... we prove him wrong by acting like we’re in love.”

“Snow... we’re enemies. You’re the Mage’s foster son who has been out to get the families since as long as I can remember. Plus, I don’t take you to be that great of an actor.” 

“I can pretend to be in love with you.”  “Sure, Snow. And you can ace all your classes without Bunce.” Simon glares.  “I can.” Baz’s lip curls.  “Prove it.” Something shifts in Simon’s expression. Suddenly he’s moving closer to Baz and Baz feels his heart stutter in his chest. He twines his fingers through Baz’s, smiling up at him with the dopiest grin Baz has ever seen. For a moment, Baz thinks Simon might kiss him and he feels like he can’t breathe.  “Baz,” Simon says, smiling a little when he says his name. He whispers it like it’s a secret that he only wants Baz to hear. It makes Baz’s head is buzzing and he feels like Simon is about to go off, filling the room with his magic and making everyone feel drunk. Except he isn’t drunk on Simon’s magic.

“You look really pretty tonight.” Merlin and Morgana this is going to be terrible.

Simon must be better at this whole flirting thing than he thought.

That was odd to think about. Him, flirting with Baz. Simon didn’t even like guys, but he sure as hell was making Baz blush the tiniest.

“AHA! You’re blushing!” Simon says, sounding proud. Baz scowls at him, but a light pink dusts his cheeks.

“That’s moronic, Snow.” Simon snorts.

“Admit it, Baz. I’m a good flirt.”

“What you are is an idiot.” Baz won’t look at Simon directly and that’s all it takes for Simon to know that he’s won this argument.

“But…” Baz sighs, letting go of Simon’s hands. Simon forgot that he was holding him. “Maybe you are a little better than I anticipated.”

 “Did THE Basilton Grimm-Pitch just admit that he was wrong?” Baz glares at Simon, who bursts out in laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation.  Baz scowls.

 “You done?” He says when Simon finally calms down. Simon takes a deep breath.

 “Do we have a deal?” Baz’s nostrils flare.

 “Why are you doing this, Snow. You have nothing to gain.” But Simon had everything to gain. He got to prove a bully wrong and maybe get close enough to Baz to find out what he was plotting.

 Thinking about it now, Simon was starting to think that was the real reason. If he kept close, maybe he could figure Baz out. Maybe he could understand what he’s plotting.

 “Because I want to. I don’t have anywhere to go for the holidays anyways.” Baz takes a deep breath.

 “Fine.” Simon doesn’t know why this makes him so happy. He feels his heart swell as he smiles widely. At first he thinks it might be a mistake, but when the pink tinge comes back to Baz’s cheeks, well, Simon decides to count it as a win.

[seeaddywrite]

stars, hide your fires: chapter four

this chapter wouldn’t exist without @soberqueerinthewild‘s cheerleading, handholding, willingness to let me rant at her about my plot holes, & assistance with the word ‘soldier,’ which really shouldn’t be this hard to avoid. also, big thanks to @lire-casander for her cheerleading, assistance with middle names, & general fabulousness. 

the plan is to upload chapter five by Thursday evening :) thanks for reading this crazy adventure of mine.

AO3 LINK

chapter index: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4

It’s frighteningly easy to get a meeting set up with the oldest of Alex’s brothers. Charlie responds almost instantly to the email he sends requesting a face-to-face, and surprises everyone by saying that he’s already in Roswell, and would love to see Alex the next day at 0900. His presence doesn’t bode well for the secrets they’re trying to keep; Charlie’s a sniper in the Air Force Special Operations Task Force. He’s rarely stateside, and for him to be in Roswell either signifies that he knows something, or that there’s something else going on that Alex doesn’t know. Neither option makes Alex particularly optimistic, but he can’t allow it to change anything.

Going in the next day isn’t ideal. Alex had been hoping for longer to research and develop his narrative, but there’s no stalling now. He’d been the one to request the meet -- it’ll look suspicious if he asks to postpone now, which is the last thing he needs. Charlie always had a soft spot for Alex when they were kids, but Alex knows better than to think that will matter if he gives the slightest reason for Charlie to doubt his sincerity. While Charlie may have smuggled him snacks when their father locked him in his room, and brought painkillers to the shed when Alex hid there after a beating, he’s still Jesse Manes’ son. There’s no such thing as the benefit of the doubt in that world.

And, well -- Kyle had said it best, the evening before, when they’d finally settled down to review files and put together a game plan. “Aren’t any of you Manes guys normal meatheads?” he’d demanded, thumbing through Charlie’s file with increasingly anxious fingers. “Look at this! Charles A. Manes. Air Force Silver Star Recipient three different times. Sniper. Special Operations Task Force. Best known for taking out thirteen armed terrorists in a shoot-out by himself -- this is the guy you think has a soft spot for you? Seriously? What if he’s already talked to Flint and decides to shoot you on sight?”

At the time, Alex had waved off the concern and pointed out that none of Jesse Manes’ sons could ever be average. Not if they wanted his approval. Charlie was Spec Ops, Hunter was an ace pilot, and Flint was head of Research and Development in several major projects. They were all brilliant in their fields -- but Alex had the distinct advantage of being the only one who’d given orders. The rest of them, as he’d once accused Flint, are sheep. They’re exceptional as long as there are directives in play; without them, they’ll fall like marionettes with their strings cut.

At least, that’s Alex’s hope. As he stands in the middle of the bunker he’d requisitioned from Jesse Manes all those months ago, face-to-face with a brother he hasn’t seen in close to a decade, he’s not so sure. Valenti may have had a point, after all. Charlie looks nothing like the young man Alex remembers from brief visits between deployments; where once there’d been a liveliness to his dark eyes, there’s now only a cool, calculating stare. Age seems to have wiped away all traces of similarity to their mother, and Alex feels an uncomfortable wave of deja vu. Staring Charlie down in this bunker bears way too much similarity to the day he’d played the same game with their father and come out on top.

Sandy colored hair, shorn in military style that hides the greys just beginning at the temples, posture so ramrod straight that it looks painful, and features that may as well be carved out of granite -- Charlie’s entire appearance screams ‘Jesse Manes’ son,’ and Alex can’t help but wonder if he’s made a mistake, expecting any measure of softness from this man.

Just as he’s psyching himself out, though, Charlie steps forward and slaps Alex’s back in greeting. It’s as close to real affection as any of the Manes boys get, and, paired with a cool smile, it signifies that things are going even better than Alex could have hoped for. “It’s good to see you, kid,” Charlie tells him, glancing around the underground headquarters as if he was reacquainting himself with a space he hadn’t seen in a while. “You’re looking pretty good for a guy who got on the wrong end of an IED not so long ago. I’m impressed.”

Alex can’t help but stand a little straighter as Charlie looks him over, the response as automatic and ingrained as jerking awake at the first ray of sun on his face or jumping to attention when he hears the order. He’s spent a lot of time on base acting as if he’s still got two legs -- pity isn’t something he can tolerate, and at first, there’d been no escaping it. It’s not pity that he’s worried about with Charlie, though; he just doesn’t want to give away any weaknesses. His missing leg is something that can’t be helped, nor can his brother’s knowledge of the injury, but he can damn well be sure that it’s made clear that the prosthetic doesn’t slow him down.

“Sorry I couldn’t get back Stateside when you lost the leg,” Charlie continues, still scrutinizing Alex from all sides. “I tried, but I got shipped overseas two days later. Did you get my letter?”

It’s so far from the suspicious welcome that Alex had been bracing for that he’s momentarily speechless.

“I -- uh, yeah, I did,” Alex says when he pulls himself back together, and nods jerkily. “I meant to write back, but -”

Charlie shakes his head, a bizarrely affable smile on his face. “Don’t worry about it. You had more important things to worry about.” He moves around one of the temporary tables Alex has set up in the bunker, his every step infused with the sort of deadly grace that Alex could never hope to emulate. Charlie glances at some of the carefully-selected files spread out on top of the table. He never pauses long, but the laser-focus of his gaze tells Alex that he’s cataloguing every detail for later perusal.

It’s part of the plan, for Charlie to see the work Alex has been doing, to believe he’s as dedicated to protecting the world from aliens as the rest of the men in their family, but he still has to clench his fists in the pockets of his jacket to stop from fidgeting. There’s nothing about Michael or the Evans’ twins in the contents of those pages; Alex refuses to endanger them further, even though Max and Guerin had both told him to use whatever he had to in order to get the information he needed. There are too many ways for that to backfire, though, and he refuses to risk it. There are other ways to earn his way into Project Shepherd than by throwing his people under the bus.

“So,” Charlie says, after another moment of rifling through the files. “Dad decided to read you in, huh?”

This is where it starts to get tricky, and Alex feels every muscle in his body tense. It’s an effort to maintain his nonchalant facade, but he manages it. “I had to hack into his databases first,” he tells the other man honestly. “But, yeah. Eventually.” He’s talked through his story with Kyle and Guerin at least twenty times the night before, and he’s prepared for anything Charlie might ask. Anxiety ebbs away as he slides into the well-rehearsed cover, and Alex feels himself becoming steadier, more dangerous -- more of the man who’d survived Baghdad and ten years of active duty service.

“You know Dad would never trust me voluntarily. That hasn’t changed.” It’s no use pretending that Jesse had a magic change of heart about Alex’s ‘weakness.’ No one would be fooled. So the narrative isn’t so different from the truth, at least to begin. “But since I figured out the truth, even he can’t deny how useful I can be. At the very least, I can shore up your cyber defenses, because it took me less than half an hour to break in and get all of the intel on the Project’s servers. His access password was ‘password,’ for Christ’s sake.” There’s no pride in his tone, just matter-of-fact honestly and scorn for Jesse’s computer illiteracy.

“And then I found out about Caulfield, and I wanted to see it for myself, you know? I thought Dad was crazy, but if there was proof …” Alex lets the thought trail off deliberately, knowing that sometimes less is more when it comes to this sort of story.

The mention of the off-books base makes Charlie’s expression darken, just enough that Alex notices. He leans back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest in a way that makes his muscles stand out in stark relief against his brown t-shirt, and Alex’s jaw tightens momentarily. If Charlie thinks things like overt displays of physical dominance are enough to scare him, he’s got another thing coming -- after growing up in a house with their father, Alex is pretty much desensitized to anything that Charlie could possibly try.

“And then you went to Caulfield,” he prompts expectantly, eyes narrowed shrewdly. It’s a standard interrogation tactic employed by the military: don’t give away any of the answer when the question is asked. Use prompts rather than specifics. Lets the detained person say what’s really on their mind, take the answer in the direction they want -- and usually, they’ll implicate themselves.

Alex isn’t that stupid. He blinks wide, guileless eyes, and nods slowly. “Yeah. Then I went to Caulfield.” He leaves Kyle out of the story for now. Flint knows, so it’ll come up at some point, but Alex isn’t eager to bring his friend into the tale, and it’s not really relevant at the moment, anyway. “I had to see them for myself, Charlie. I mean, aliens? It sounds like something out of a fucking Star Wars movie, not real life. I needed to see it. So I went.”

As he speaks, Alex is careful to maintain that careful air of naivete. The act balances on the knife’s edge between uselessness and innocence, and he needs to stay just on the side of innocence. If he takes it too far, Charlie will write him off as foolish and unhelpful, and that’s the last thing he wants -- but it’s important he play the awed younger brother just trying to follow in the family footsteps. That’s his ticket into the game.

Charlie nods, his expression no less guarded. “And?”

Christ, he’s not making this easy. Not that Alex had expected him to -- but it would have been nice.

“And it’s hard to deny the truth when you’re standing right in front of them,” Alex says bluntly, letting some of the incredulity and fear he’d felt in that place seep into his expression. It feels odd, to be so calculating of his every movement and facial tic around someone that’s supposed to be his family, but he doesn’t let that stop him from doing it anyway. “Dad’s right. You’re all right. There are fucking aliens invading our planet -- and I want to be part of trying to stop them.”

Silence echoes in the space between the two men, and Alex doesn’t look away from Charlie, doesn’t give him the chance to think that he might be lying. Instead, he lets that announcement sink in for a moment, then continues: “I know you’ve heard Dad saying that I’m weak for our entire lives, but I’ve served three tours on active duty, and did my time on the ground, just like the rest of you. I signed up to serve and protect my country, and I’ve done it. That’s part of who I am, now, and I can’t just ignore the alien threat. Dad may not like it, but I’m part of this family, too. Protecting people is in my DNA just as much as it is yours -- I want to be a part of Project Shepherd. I want to help.”

The lies taste like ash in his mouth, and everything integral to Alex’s being rebels against the idea of being just another Manes sheep with no free will of his own. He’s had literal nightmares about that, about what he could have been capable of if his father had been able to crush his will. But he knows what Charlie wants to hear -- it’s the same thing all of his brothers have wanted to hear for his entire life. They want him to be one of them, another nameless airman in the generational parade, want him to stop asking questions and fall in line. And, most importantly, Alex knows what Charlie will be willing to believe. He’s learned from experience that people remember their first encounters with a person more than anything else. And to Charlie, Alex is always going to be the little boy determined to follow in his big brother’s footsteps, desperate for approval and in need of protection and advice.

Charlie shifts his weight on his shiny, black boots, and looks at Alex steadily. “We’ve already got three people trying to run things here, Alex,” he says carefully, and the omission of ‘kid’ is either a sign of respect, or a signal that Charlie is trying to distance himself from Alex. Guessing which is dangerous, so Alex doesn’t try. “And even if I say yes, Dad’s not likely to be happy about it when he gets back. He’s been pretty clear about not wanting you onboard for a long time.”

He appreciates that Charlie doesn’t try to pretend that Jesse Manes gives two shits about Alex. It’s easier that way, with at least some honesty between them -- and Alex has always hated it when someone tried to tell him that his father does care about him. Fathers who love their sons don’t break their bones to show it. They don’t spend years attempting to reshape their souls with their fists, like it’s nothing more than clay on a potter’s wheel.

Alex snorts. “Dad’s never wanted me around, Charlie. That’s not news to me. But you said ‘when he gets back,’ right?” He’s walking the razor’s edge, now, and knows that if he over or under sells the act here, this is as far his mission will go. “If he’s not here, you’re running things.” It’s not a guess; Alex is no stranger to chain of command, and Charlie’s the highest ranking of the brothers by virtue of age, at the very least.

“I’ve been stateside for three days, Alex,” Charlie says with a sigh, running a hand over his shorn hair. It’s the first sign of stress that he’s shown since arrival, and it’s enough to tell Alex that he’s getting somewhere. Charlie wants the extra help, wants to have another person to depend on -- it’s a fair bet he’s got access to Alex’s personnel file, too, and knows that Alex has the skills to actually be helpful.

In other words, Alex has got an opening, and he’s going to exploit it.

“And I’ve only been in Roswell for less than twenty-four hours. Dad fucked off somewhere without any warning months ago, and Flint and Hunter have taken on most of the responsibility here. I can’t just read you in without talking to them first. It wouldn’t be right -- especially since Flint is pretty damned sure you purposefully blew up Caulfield with Kyle fucking Valenti.”

The words don’t particularly surprise Alex; of course Charlie and Flint would have been in contact in the last six months if they’ve been working together. To make matters worse, Flint likely would have contacted Jesse as soon as it happened. Alex can’t be certain, but he’d be willing to be that intel is why Jesse showed up in Roswell despite Alex’s warnings and tried to kill Kyle, around the same time Max brought Rosa back to life. So no, he’s not thrown off by the fact that Charlie knows more than he let on initially -- but it’s still irritating to have it thrown back in his face.

Alex narrows his eyes and crosses his own arms over his chest, keeping his weight perfectly centered on his legs to hide the ache that’s started in his bad knee from standing and posturing for so long. “Flint thinks I blew up a secure facility and nearly killed myself on purpose?” he asks, acid dripping from the words. “No wonder he’s been stuck in R&D for ten years. He’s clearly got no fucking common sense.”

Charlie quirks an eyebrow in an expression that Alex recognizes from looking in the mirror. “So you didn’t blow it up on purpose?”

“I didn’t blow it up at all!” Alex says, the anger in his exclamation genuine. He’s not willing to take all of those deaths on his conscience, not even in a lie. “Some security protocol went off and the whole damn base self-destructed before I could do much more than stare at an old woman through the glass door, and get some insane story about a cancer-causing alien that sent Valenti off the deep end.” He sits slowly at the computer desk and tapped out a short sequence on the keyboard. On the monitors, the security footage of Valenti Sr. being shoved into the alien’s containment unit and, presumably, contracting brain cancer. Alex watches steadily, refusing to waver now. “If I’d realized that Valenti was going to find out our father murdered his, I would’ve left him in Roswell.”

Talking about something that is still causing Kyle so much pain in such a cavalier fashion makes Alex hate himself. He wants to scream when Charlie just nods, his lips twisted in disdain, like Kyle’s reaction to realizing his father had been murdered was somehow pathetic instead of justified. Thankfully, Alex doesn’t have to work very hard to hide his reaction; both he and Charlie are looking at the screens. “My guess is that he cracked one of containment cells, trying to get at the one who gave Jim the tumor, and it sparked the self-destruct.”

Guerin hasn’t been mentioned thus far, and Alex knows Flint had no idea of his presence at Caulfield, so there’s no hesitation as Alex rewrites the truth to fit his needs. It would be stupid, if he didn’t know for a fact that Guerin’s not on any surveillance footage from that day -- Alex had been sure of that. He’d torn his way through the cyber defenses of whatever server the video had been backed-up on without any finesse and erased everything, practically daring them to trace the data trail back to him. It hadn’t been smart, but Alex hadn’t been in the right headspace to be smart, back then. Not after witnessing Michael losing his mother a moment after finding her. Not after their near-escape from a deadly explosion. Not after being shoved out of Michael’s life and losing the only sense of family he’d ever known for his best friend --

At the time, Alex had almost hoped they’d come for him.

But Guerin is safe, for now, because of that stupidity, so Alex can’t bring himself to regret it.

Charlie’s brows furrow as he digests that explanation, and Alex can see his certainty waver. In that moment, Alex goes for the throat -- figuratively, of course. “Charlie, please,” he says, closing the video on the server and spinning his chair back around to look at his brother head-on. “You and Flint and Hunter are the only family I’ve got left. And you know I can be useful. None of you have the tech skills that I do, or the inside knowledge of Roswell. I’ve been here for months. I still have roots and connections here that none of you do. I can help. All you have to do is let me. And when Dad gets back, I promise, he won’t be able to deny that I’ve done good work.”

As he speaks, Alex is eight and standing in the kitchen of the house they all grew up in, begging a twenty-year-old Charlie to stay home after their mother had finally had enough and left. Then it’s Charlie, coming back on leave and swinging a six-year-old Alex around while he laughs. Or Charlie, smirking as Alex proudly smashed a guitar over Flint’s head at twelve, or the man in uniform, boarding the plane to take him back to the Middle East with a small smile over his shoulder just for Alex, who’s fifteen and cradling a broken wrist against his chest. It’s almost easy to want Charlie to believe him, to want to truly be on his brother’s side -- because despite everything he knows about Project Shepherd and the horrible things his brothers have done, a small, childish part of Alex is always going to want their acceptance.

But as much as Alex cherishes the memories of Charlie’s kindness, he hates the feelings of helplessness and impotence they evoke more. Since enlisting, Alex has built his life on the pillars of control and logic, his own sort of power, to make up for the lack in his childhood, and stepping into this situation has cost him all that work.

But this is for Michael, for Liz and Kyle and everyone in that group who’d come to mean something to him, and for them, Alex will allow his foundations to crumble, if that’s what it takes. This is only shaking them a little -- and tonight, at least, Alex has the promise of returning home to the one person who always makes him feel safe and stable.

“I’ll talk to Flint and Hunter,” Charlie says after a long, fraught silence.

Alex can read the answer in his eyes, though -- he’s convinced the man that he can be trusted, and he’s done a good enough job that he can be sure Charlie will persuade the others one way or another. The calculating, ruthless part of his mind that Alex tries to keep locked down is pleased at the ease with which he manipulated Charlie -- the rest of him, the human parts, just feel cold.

“I can’t guarantee anything until I talk to them, and I’d be thinking of some specific ways to show them you’re worth the risk,” Charlie continues, and Alex’s stomach sinks. Proving his worth to an anti-alien task force is going to involve doing a lot of shit he doesn’t want to think about, he’s sure -- but that’s a problem for another day. He made it through today’s set, and Alex has every intention of taking the whole match. And he’ll have some time to plan, now -- if Hunter’s still in Afghanistan, as his records indicate, there’s no way Charlie will have a response for him in the next day or even two. Alex will make damn sure to take advantage of that time.

“Thanks, Charlie,” Alex says with a smile that rings false to himself, but would fool anyone who didn’t know him well -- which, ironically enough, described his brother perfectly.

“Don’t thank me yet,” the older man says with a grim twist of his lips, and for a moment, Alex wonders why he looks so unhappy. Is he really that worried about selling the idea to Flint and Hunter, who hang off of his every word? Or is this fear of their father -- reluctance to go against his will? Alex doesn’t know, but he wishes Charlie would stop looking at him with those pitying, worried eyes. It’s making it harder to keep the smile on his face.

To the younger brother’s unending surprise, Charlie pushes away from the wall he’s been leaning against and moves closer, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Take a couple of days of leave and think this over while I reach out, huh? This isn’t like the other ops you’ve been involved in. It’s not something you ever get to walk away from. Just -- remember that. Consider your options. You never wanted this life, kid, and you’ve already lost enough.” Dark eyes, so close in color to Alex’s own, sweep over his body to linger on his bad leg, and Alex shivers despite himself.

Shock jolts like electricity down Alex’s spine at the thinly-veiled warning, and he opens his mouth to ask why Charlie is suddenly so worried about his choices -- or maybe to deny that he wants anything but the mission? Alex isn’t even sure. But Charlie is already walking away by the time Alex pulls himself together enough to speak. “I’ll call when I’ve got an answer for you,” he says over his shoulder, deep voice echoing off of the cavernous walls of the bunker as he begins the ascent to the surface.

Alex stays seated in his desk chair long after Charlie disappears, staring at the blank wall in front of him. Doubt and insecurity encroaches on him, flickering like shadows in the corner of his mind, and for the first time, Alex allows himself to wonder if he’s gotten in over his head. For a long, dark hour, he lets his mind conjure one possible scenario after another, each one growing darker and darker, and all ending in the death of everyone he cares about. What if Charlie’s warning was a hint that they know his plan? What if his brothers are three steps ahead while Alex is lagging behind? What if they’re going after Guerin and the others as he sits here feeling sorry for himself? What if he loses the few parts of his soul that the war left him with?

Eventually, Alex can’t take it anymore. The walls of the bunker are closing in on him, and if he doesn’t leave this place soon, he’s not sure he’ll be able to pull himself out of the spiral Charlie’s warnings had started. It’s so stupid that he’s reacting this way -- but he’s been running on caffeine and adrenaline and sheer stubborn determination for the last thirty-six hours, and now that the immediate threat is past, everything else is crashing down on him at once. The burden he’d taken on. The responsibility he’s shouldering. The fact that to succeed in this mission, he’s going to have to send Charlie and the rest of his biological family to prison.

Usually, when he has moments like this, Alex finds himself sitting behind the bar at the Wild Pony, or in the middle of Liz’s living room, or even with Mimi DeLuca in her little apartment. Being alone had never been particularly good for Alex’s mental health, and he knows that none of them would turn him away.

But there’s only one other place he wants to be right now, and it’s not with any of them -- and for once, Alex is pretty sure that he won’t be turned away.

Drawing in a deep, determined breath, Alex stands slowly, finds his equilibrium, and points himself toward home.