#i so rarely have to explain that word of god does not replace the text when it comes to iizuka and sonic

[randomthefox]

Apparently, at an official event, Iizuka said that Eggman is younger than Maria and is in his late 40s.

If you look up "eggman age" on Twitter, you'll probably find it.

So assuming this Google translation is accurate enough to go off of and assuming this is an accurate recounting of what Iizuka said, which considering he probably answered the question himself in his native language I am willing to think that it is:

The question was "is Maria older than Eggman and did Eggman know Maria." Iizuka said that Maria would be older than Eggman if she were still alive and that they had never met.

This is pretty much exactly what I had also thought lol. Nothing about this answer asserts that Eggman was not yet born when Maria died, only that he was younger than her. He also says that Eggman is "probably" in his 50s or younger, putting the age range anywhere from maybe 46 to 55+. The number 50 is even explicately used in the Japanese text of the answer, so I don't know where anyone's getting "late 40s" from. My conclusion had been that Eggman and Maria were both alive at the same time, whether Eggman was anything from a newborn to being maybe around ten years old when Maria died is the part that is open to interpretation. Iizuka's answer supports this conclusion.

Also notable details that Eggmans and Gerald never knew each other which we obviously could figure from the way Eggman talks about him in SA2, and again the idea that they were both alive at the same time doesn't mean they'd have ever met personally. And Eggman mentions in Sonic Frontiers Egg Memo that he never knew Maria and that everyone talked about her like she was very special. He also calls her his cousin so like, obviously there were multiple kids coming from Gerald involved. (I'm reminded sadly of that person who thought that Maria was Gerald's daughter instead of his granddaughter and I am weeping).

Anyway yeah. I assume people are already playing internet telephone with this and spreading a bad faith inaccurate recounting of what was said considering you presented this ask with "Iizuka said Eggman is in his 40s" which is very explicately NOT what he said. But the answer Iizuka gives here pretty much lines up with my own interpretation of Eggmans age.

If you assume that based on SA2 the ARK raid takes place "50 years ago" and that no time has passed since then, then Eggman is probably in his mid 50s. If you assume time has passed since the events of SA2, which they definitely have, then he's probably much older.

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3997 Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of death/loss

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 1 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

A soft knock at pulls you away from the computer. Twisting your stiff head towards the door you smile, seeing Steve Rogers standing with a tray of coffee and a paper bag in hand marked with the logo of your favorite nearby restaurant.

“You’re a lifesaver!” you chuckled, though you meant every word as you invited Steve to sit at your desk for lunch.

Steve worked security for Stark Industries and you developed a close friendship in the years since you’ve been there. Though he was undeniably good looking, with the build of a Greek God and long lashes you were incredibly jealous of, you never saw Steve as anything other than the brother you never had.

At the time you met he was dating a girl from the building, Lillian Nguyen from accounting. You hadn’t seen much of her in person, just through the photos Steve showed you with adoration on his phone. When he began talking about looking for engagement rings you were thrilled but that excitement was replaced with anger and confusion when Steve found out Lillian was cheating on him.

He was extremely hurt and became guarded afterwards, not wanting to put himself out there again. His lack of socializing worked with your lack of a social life and on the rare occasion you had a moment free from school work Steve would often come over and hang out to binge watch shows you needed to catch up to on Netflix while you ate pizza.

The paper bag rustled as he pulled out a large sandwich, cup of soup and a salad, distributing napkins across the desk as he knows how much of a messy eater you can be. You grabbed the sandwich, tearing open the paper wrapping and sinking your teeth into it with a bite full of food too large for your mouth.

Steve laughed, as he stirred the broth of his soup. He’s witnessed you eating before, unapologetically shoveling food into your face especially when you were starving.

“You know the sandwich isn’t goin’ anywhere, right?” he joked.

Chewing a large mouthful, you grabbed a napkin to wipe the corner of your lips that you felt had a piece of food sticking to it.

“Steve,” you paused to take a sip of coffee, “I’m fucking starving. I ran out this morning and all I had here was a package of almonds that are not filling despite what you say.”

He asked the reason for your tardiness and you explained how you stayed at the cafe until closing to finish up your work, all because of your stupid neighbor.

“Have you tried talkin’ to him?”

You stared at Steve incredulously. “Haven’t gotten a chance. I gotta wait for the right moment. There’s no way I’m knocking on his door, not when he’s banging all of New York, who knows what I’d end up seeing.”

“D’ya want me to do it?”

It was in Steve’s nature to help and though you appreciated his offer you wanted to handle this yourself. You were the one that had to live next to the Music Man, it would be better to confront him alone.

“I understand,” he said, taking a swig from his water bottle. “You down to hang tonight?”

“Wish I could but before my time is sucked away by the next paper I really need to research where I could do my internship. I’m all registered for school but I need to submit the paperwork for where I’ll be doing my hours and I’m running out of time.”

“You should talk to my buddy Sam. Maybe he could get you in at the hospital.”

Sam was Steve’s friend from the gym. They’d work out together, turning everything into a friendly competition to see who could run faster or lift more. Sam was also a doctor in the emergency department of Metro-General so he might have connections. It was worth a shot so you asked Steve to text him. Still you planned on searching for more backups to be safe.

Before the hour was over Steve left to head back downstairs to the security desk and you continued your work for Ms. Hill. You had evolved to working closer with Ms. Hill, becoming more like an executive assistant to her and when necessary Ms. Potts.

In between coordinating a meeting your phone goes off with a text from Wanda, asking if she could see you over the weekend for brunch. Ironically, she ended up moving to the city after all. There was only so far she could go with her degree at home and with her mother’s blessing she came to New York to work for The Jewish Museum.

She lived in a trendy loft on Bleecker Street, decorated with her signature eclectic style. Woven rugs hung like tapestries on the wall, plants hanging down from macramé holders in front of the large windows. Her furniture was an odd mix of plush velvet tufted cushions and smooth leather arm chairs that somehow worked with the mid-century touches and industrial shelving.

Her apartment had more space which you envied, although you loved everything else about where you lived. The neighborhood was amazing, with great shops and a lot of different food options right at your doorstep. Everything was perfect, except your neighbor.

Responding to Wanda you let her know you could most likely make it depending on the workload you’d be getting from your Saturday class. You could not wait until that was over. Spending all day in a small, windowless room instead of enjoying the summer weekend made you miserable but you were close to the end, so, so close.

When the work day was over you went to meet Steve downstairs, walking over to the desk to say goodnight to the elderly security guard who’s been with the company since its inception.

“Any plans for the weekend Mr. Lee?”

The wiry white hairs that made up his mustache moved as he grinned. “Well, Joanie thinks my hair’s getting a bit long,” he smiled, running his fingers through his greyish-white strands. “She’ll have it trimmed before supper, I'm sure,” he laughed.

A smile graced your face whenever you listened to Mr. Lee, admiring the adoration he had for his wife. Steve has heard all of his stories more than once but he never tires of them either. Everyone loved Mr. Lee, especially Tony Stark, who continued to pay him a full time salary for the part time hours he worked.

The job was easy enough as he greeted visitors to Stark Industries, and signing them in to the building while Steve and some other employees did most of the security checks.

You and Steve bid Mr. Lee goodbye as you made your way to the subway. Steve didn’t live far from you and though he could have gotten off at a further stop he always walked with you to your building, partially to make sure you got home safely but also because he needed a distraction to get out of his head.

There were many times when you suggested he go out, not with the purpose of meeting someone but just to break up the monotony of his routine, but Steve lost his confidence after the breakup. For now, he didn’t want to be told what to do, he simply needed a friend and so you were there for him.

Wanda sat back against the chair beside the bistro table covered in shade. Her always changing hair color was light brown today, parting the silky strands perfectly down the middle. She was the definition of cool, despite the heat, wearing a loose scoop-necked tank top, slim ripped jeans and topped things off with a pair of motorcycle boots. Her neck was adorned with a few necklaces of varying lengths, one of which she never took off, a silver lightning bolt in honor of her late brother.

She and Pietro were twins with distinctly different personalities. Wanda was laid back, even as a child. She would actually stop to smell the roses that lined the garden of their backyard, whereas Pietro was always moving. He was an extraordinary multitasker that could not sit still.

Pietro had so many dreams, a full list of things he wanted to do in life but he was taken from the world too soon. Wanda wears the necklace as a reminder to live life to the fullest, knowing how quickly things can change.

Squeezing through the other tables to get to Wanda, you huff as you sit down and catch your breath, apologizing for being late.

“Wanda, I swear I’m going to kill him.”

“Who?”

“The fucking Music Man! I had to leave my own damn apartment again because of his stupid playing. Like, dude, could you not? You live in an apartment. Everyone hears you, everyone!”

Grabbing the glass of ice water you quickly drink most of it to soothe the dehydration of your mouth.

“And another thing, like does he not realize that we can all hear the girls he’s banging? Wanda, they’re so fucking loud. If they were still there right now I bet you could hear them from here.”

Wanda laughed at your accusation. “Oh, so they don’t stay the night? He’s a ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ kinda guy?”

“I guess! I hear them leave, whining at his door as they’re begging to stay over. It’s so pathetic. What’s so great about this guy anyway?” you scoffed. “I wish he never moved here!”  

With a final humph you opened the menu, your anger dissipating as you read the descriptions for everything you wanted, mouth salivating as you tried to decide what to choose. Wanda opted for the frittata while you decided to take out your frustrations on yourself with delicious Challah French Toast.

Wanda’s eyes widened as she watched you drown your meal in syrup. You hummed in satisfaction as you took a bite.

“Hmm, it’s not as good as the kind your mom makes,” you said.

Wanda laughed, “Uh, yeah, because she never used a whole bottle of syrup. Geez Y/N can you taste anything other than sugar?”

“Shush Wan, let me enjoy myself here.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at you. “Well, anyway, I wanted to tell you something exciting...” she sang, grinning widely. “Director Coulson asked me to curate an exhibit on prejudice told through Romani-Jewish art!”

“Wanda this is perfect! I’m so happy for you!” you beamed, getting up from your chair to wrap your arms around her in a proud hug.

“I know! I’m so excited. Mom’s gonna come up for the opening. I mean that’s a long time from now but fuck, I can’t wait!”

After finishing brunch you went back home to begin working on your final. It was a research paper that was worth half of your grade so you really needed to concentrate. And yet the moment the elevator doors opened to your floor you heard it, the sound of music flooding the halls coming from none other than the apartment next to yours.

Jamming your keys into the door with frustration you grunted, grabbing all the things you needed to do your work at the cafe. Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited for the elevator again. With your arms crossed over your chest you could feel your blood boiling beneath your skin, beating to the stupid rhythm of the stupid song that your stupid, inconsiderate neighbor wouldn’t stop playing.

The elevator dinged before the doors opened and you were like a bull, grunting and blowing puffs of air from your flaring nostrils as you were ready to charge into it. As the doors opened you stopped yourself from barreling into your neighbors that were inside.

“Whoa, Y/N!” Clint said, raising his hands up defensively, “Easy there.”

Clint lived on the floor above you along with his fiancée Natasha, whose arms were looped through his.

“Sorry guys,” you apologized. “Oh, wait.” Making your right hand into a fist you ran it across your chest in a few circular motions.

“Someone’s been practicing,” Natasha chimed in, signing her words along as she spoke to you.

Clint was partially deaf and though he used hearing aids he often signed, especially when he didn’t feel like talking to people, although you were one of the lucky ones he considered a friend. Still, you wanted to be able to communicate with him, even if he didn’t want to actually speak.

Clint was a history teacher who already tried to get you into his school for your internship but doubted you would be brought on board. There were apparently a lot of issues going on with the principal and Natasha surmised there was a big lawsuit in the works.

Natasha was an attorney, hoping to make partner at her current firm Nelson & Murdock. Clint never failed to praise her, nicknaming Natasha the Black Widow as he claimed watching her dismantle a witness was like watching a spider sink its venomous fangs into its prey.

“Where’re you guys off to?” you asked.

“Just going out for some ice cream,” she replied.

Clint laughed. “Some ice cream? No, I’m going out to eat a lot of ice cream,” he chuckled, rubbing his eager stomach.

Natasha poked the small protrusion of his belly through his shirt. “Listen buddy, we’ve got a wedding to plan. Easy on the ice cream.” Natasha brought her full lips to his for a kiss they both smiled through, knowing she was teasing him.

“What about you Y/N?” Clint asked.

The elevator doors opened and you walked out with them, explaining how frustrating it’s been that you’ve had to leave for the cafe to do your work all because of the new neighbor.

“Oh the Guitar Hero?” Clint joked. “Yeah, we can hear him too. Well, actually…” he drifted off smirking.

“Clint takes his hearing aids out so no, he doesn’t hear him,” Natasha filled in the information that had you bursting out with laughter.

“Can you hear the women too?” you wondered, considering their apartment was right above his.

“Yeah, kind of, that’s more muffled though. It’s probably a lot worse for you.” Natasha grimaced, catching the way she didn’t mean the words to come out.

It was true though, sharing a wall with the man that made your string lights bounce with every thrust. The sound was bad enough and thankfully your headphones helped with that but every night you had to shut your eyes, hoping you would fall asleep before he was through with them.

You had to give it to the guy though, the man had stamina. Still, you wanted to kill him. At least you were friends with a lawyer...

The next few days have the same result, with you coming home dead tired from work, hoping you’d be able to stay home to work on your final to no avail. You tried using the headphones in your apartment but it didn’t help. The sound was mostly blocked out but your mind couldn’t focus on anything but the anger you held towards the neighbor, knowing he was playing that same song over and over again.

You might as well live in the cafe since you’ve practically paid them your rent in coffee and pastries over the last month. You were burning out quickly and Steve decided you needed a break, bringing over pizza and beer.

Opening up the box, you smiled, staring at the bubbling cheese.

“Ahh, pizza, my one true love,” you said, plating slices for you and Steve.

Your small table was always covered in textbooks, mail and other paperwork you needed to tend to, so you and Steve took your usual spots on the couch.

After working at Stark Industries for a few months you made enough money that allowed you to finally buy much needed furniture. You adored your light grey couch, adorned with blush colored throw pillows. You threw the fuzzy white blanket over the side of the couch, not serving much purpose during the summer months other than to look like it was naturally left on the cushion in a perfectly styled manner for display.

Pushing aside the candlesticks that sat on your coffee table, you set down actual coasters for the bottles Steve opened, not wanting to ruin the veneer of the grey wood top of your rustic coffee table. A small accent rug helped define the space you declared as the living room, despite having your bed within arm’s reach beside you.

Against the brick wall is your TV, sitting atop a modern white stand with shelves for storage you’ve packed to the brim. Beside it, a large antique floor mirror leans against the brick. It was as tall as Steve who helped bring it to your apartment after you found it at a flea market. However, the thing you cherished most was the artwork of the Brooklyn Bridge that hung above your couch, painted by Steve as a gift to you.

“So,” he said, chewing quickly to swallow the food in his mouth. “I talked to Sam. He said it would be cool for you to call him about the internship.”

“Oh yeah. You really think he could help or is this just a rouse to give him my number?” you half-joked.

Steve laughed deeply, wiping away a bit of oil the pizza leaked onto his chin. “Nah, it’s definitely about the internship but I wouldn’t put it past Sam if he tried to take you out. Lord knows he’s been on my case about it with you since I met ‘im.”

“Does he not think guys and girls can have a friendship without romance involved?”

“I can’t speak for him… probably not though.”

You laughed before getting up for another slice. You hoped Sam would be able to help with the internship, no strings attached. He didn’t seem like that type of guy anyway, and all of Steve’s friends were good people so you weren’t worried.

As the Music Man began his one man band you had to gradually increase the volume of your television; your anger rising with every click of the remote. It was no longer enjoyable to watch the action movie you and Steve put on, having to raise the volume for higher to hear the dialogue and scramble to lower the blasting noise of car screeching and explosions. When you couldn’t take it anymore you called it a night.

“Guess you haven’t spoken to him?” Steve asked the question he clearly knew the answer to.

“Soon,” you said hopefully, not knowing when the day might come.

As the sun began to rise on the early Saturday morning you were getting ready for class. With your closet open you debated on what to wear when you heard a voice from the other side of the wall.

“Hi ma… Things are good… and Dad…”

He must have been walking around the apartment as you heard most of the words.

“I know…Leaving now…”

You heard the undoing of his locks and the front door creaking open. Shit! Your first moment to speak to the Music Man alone and you’re standing in your underwear. There’s definitely no way you would approach him now. Instead you raced to the door to try and catch a glimpse of what he looked like but it was too late.

Huffing in frustration you continued to get dressed and within fifteen minutes you were ready to leave. The elevator dinged as you shut your door, inserting your key to turn the deadbolt, unaware of the form that was moving closer towards you, not until you heard the whistling of a familiar tune.

Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, as if that tune was part of a psychological experiment, like Pavlov’s dog but instead of salivating you wanted to punch something.

“Hey neighbor.”

The soft voice of the Music Man broke you from your vision of punching through your shared wall and destroying his instruments. With a calming inhale you turned around to face him.

“I’m Bucky.”

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t. The breath was stolen from your lungs as you stared directly into the kindest, bluest eyes you had ever seen. All the anger left your body, replaced by the softness of his pink lips that reminded you of flowers in full bloom.

He was tall and lean, but your eyes did not miss the bulge of his biceps that showed through his cotton t-shirt. In his hand was a coffee cup, gripped under his long fingers. His hair was dark and pulled back into a low sloppy bun, with a loose piece falling beside his smile.

His hand was extended towards you and you weren’t sure how long it had been. It felt like you were staring at him for hours, or was it only seconds. Did time really stop moving the moment you finally saw him? You broke yourself out of your trance to shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N. I just moved in. Well not just, but not long ago,” Bucky said.

Yeah I know. I hear you every night. You remembered your frustration and tried to assemble the sentence in your head of how to confront him.

“You ever get coffee from the place on the corner?” he asked, gesturing to the cup in his hand. “The line was crazy long but worth it, it’s delicious.”

“Yeah, once or twice but I’m usually at the Grind House. They’re open late and that’s where I have to go to study because… uh…” you stammered for a moment, “...your guitar playing is too distracting.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, wondering why you felt uncomfortable when he was the one who was being a bad neighbor.

Bucky’s face dropped with guilt. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“It’s alright,” you lied, not knowing why you said that. Pulling more confidence out of midair you continued, “It’s just that the walls are so thin and I’m in school, well I work full time too, but I’ve just got a lot on my plate and honestly I’m not sure how much longer I can afford the coffee shop every night.”

You chuckled to lighten up the conversation, continuing to ramble before giving him a chance to speak. “So, um, if you wouldn’t mind, maybe you could practice during the day instead or weekends are mostly fine. I’m actually heading to class now so I’ll be gone all day.” Great, give him your whole schedule why don’t you.

With nerves getting the better of you, you turned on your heel quickly saying it was nice to meet him. Briskly making your way towards the elevator you pressed the button furiously in hopes it would get to your floor faster.

Once inside you let out a big sigh and waved your hand in front of your slightly sweaty, heated face. Bucky seemed like he genuinely wasn’t aware of the noise he was making, and the way you passive aggressively called him out on it made you feel like shit.

But what was worse was knowing there was a face, a drop dead gorgeous face that is responsible for making the women of New York scream in ecstasy every night. It was going to be very difficult to concentrate in class today.

Getting home later that afternoon you were anxious to make something to eat, but more anxious about Bucky, hoping you wouldn’t run into him again. As you opened your door your foot slid on something and as you looked down you saw a small envelope with your name written on it.

Inside was a $50 gift card to The Grind House with a little note. I’m truly sorry about the noise. –Bucky

Your mouth opened in shock at the realization that Bucky did this nice gesture for you, and worse, you were going to have to thank him.

PART 3

[welshdragonrawr]

Well, Here I Lie Like a Lover Who Isn’t In Love

I don't know what this is. I started writing it after Ratched came out as a random little 'what if' headcanon/drabble. This is what came of it about 9 months longer and later than I ever planned. 3k words of Gwen thinking about stuff during an angsty canon-divergence from the Dance 

Read on Ao3 here; Well, Here I Lie or https://archiveofourown.org/works/30784745 or full text under the cut

Gwendolyn Briggs only closes her eyes for a second. Just one second. It couldn’t have been more than that. But she would forever remember that second as the longest, darkest hour of her life.

She flinches when the gun goes off. Everyone does. Someone even shrieks when the sharp bang ricochets in the room – though Gwendolyn doesn’t know to whom the startled screech belongs. In truth, she can’t help thinking, she didn’t really know anyone at the party save the bare minimum and most only by name. She only came because she had been invited by…

She turns on her heel so fast she could swear she’s close to giving herself what the doctors call whiplash. The bright blue of her skirts swirl around her calves; a cerulean cylindrical wave stuck in place. Because she is stuck in place. Just as Mildred Ratched seems to be. Like a marionette with all her strings pulled taut by her brother, keeping her limbs locked and looking so still. Everyone else in the room flailing and fussing and freaking out except for her. Gwendolyn cannot recall when, or if, she had ever seen the redhead so still. She had already learned the nurse was almost always moving, in thought or deed, big gestures or small. Even now, she sees Mildred’s lips move but Gwendolyn can’t hear what it is those ruby red lips are trying to say. Not when her focus is drawn to the maroon colour blooming through that teal green silk.

And just like a marionette - her brother has snipped the strings - Mildred drops.

Is it possible for time to simultaneously move so fast and so slow? Gwendolyn can’t comprehend it. One moment Mildred was standing a few feet away and nearly offering her a small smile – the next she’s lying in the middle of that dancefloor Gwen had so keenly looked forward to asking her to dance on. There will be no more dancing now.

She doesn’t even feel it when her knees hit the hard floor. All she can see is Mildred. Mildred lying with her hair cushioning her rare hatless head like a gothic halo, and a bright flower blossoming at Mildred’s side as just as rich and red. The colour seeps through that soft silk bodice in a way that Gwen thinks can’t possibly be real. Until that night, until that moment, Gwen had always loved how Mildred’s eyes could widen with surprise, and how it could make her look so much smaller than the imposing nurse that the woman was. It was always incredible how she could make such darkness look so childlike, when her eyes became big and round, like ink in one of Gwen’s morning papers how they’d glisten still fresh off the press. Mildred’s eyes are glistening now. But there is no joy to be found.

Eyes black as night, lips red as blood, her complexion snow white, oh look what prince charming has done... and in the current company Gwen can’t even give her true love’s kiss. No kiss could remedy this. But damn them all for preventing her from trying.

Someone calls Mildred’s name, but it doesn’t sound like herself – too hoarse and fragile and not the assertive governor’s assistant she’s supposed to be.

“Somebody help! For god’s sake-!” it’s a desperate screeching for someone, at everyone, to anyone who might listen on earth or up in heaven. Where’s the firmness in her tone now? Where’s the steel in her spine now? The only metal left inside is the lead in her limbs rendering her listless while the bullet in Mildred’s chest takes her breath away.

Mildred, for her part, looks eerily calm for someone bleeding to death on the dancefloor. For one bizarre bright moment Gwendolyn can’t help but wonder if the woman has ever been shot before. There’s something she can’t explain in how quickly Mildred’s expression melts from shock to a strange serenity; Gwendolyn cannot possibly understand it. At best, she can only hope that if there is life after this night, perhaps she’ll find the courage to ask her. She’s never even seen the woman without being top to toe in neat-pressed clothes outside of dreams Gwen dare not divulge to anyone. Dreams that may be dashed now, may never come true.

Mildred’s hand is moving then, thin fingers twitch while Gwendolyn’s itch to take them and squeeze tight. Regardless of witness, she gives in to the urge, and tries to ignore how sticky her palm becomes. It distantly occurs to her that this is the first time that she can remember Mildred ever reaching for her and not the other way around.

She watches those ruby red lips part, a name or a word on such soft breath Gwen nearly misses it but she can’t distinguish what Mildred might be trying to say beyond the deafening sound in her ears her own desperation. She gives the nurse’s hand another squeeze – and realises only then that Mildred moves her palm to the wound at her side – how some subconscious part of her implores for pressure not just for comfort but to keep her there. Gwen knows this. That this is the closest she has ever come to being able to wrap her hands around the other woman’s petite waist – and the closest she has ever come to losing her.

“You’ll be alright…It’ll be alright…Stay with me…” the murmurs and mumbles slip out of her own mouth unbidden and almost incomprehensible. She can’t believe they’re in a hospital full of nurses and there’s no-one there able to do anything. No-one willing. Or so it will seem to Gwen when she looks back on this moment. When she will question why they had all let the minutes linger and drag on long enough.

Someone’s hands press over hers, over theirs, large and firm and all thick fumbling fingers. And then someone is talking in her ear – low voice, soft yet shaky, and in her peripheral the sight of mottled skin; Huck. He’s telling her to breathe – no, telling Mildred? He’s holding Gwen’s hand to Mildred’s side; "Keep the pressure Mrs Briggs-" the dim thought rises like smoke from the fire that she wants to say ‘its miss now-‘ but she hadn’t even had a chance to tell Mildred. Telling anyone else first seems wrong in a way she can’t describe, and she can’t divulge.

Mildred’s eyelids flicker and start to fall as though the weight of the world she carries on those slim shoulders is too heavy to keep holding up. But Gwen wants her to keep holding it up. Gwen wants her to keep holding on. Gwen wants to pull away from the warm wet sensation spilling and seeping through her cotton gloves and run away, she wants Mildred to get up and run away from this terrible place with her. She wants…

“It should have been me… It should have… I was standing-“ the words stutter and start as though she’s trying to defend herself but she’s not sure what for or who to. She thinks she sees Huck shake his head a little, but she can’t tell if he agrees or if it’s pity or if it’s something else entirely. He has something white in his hands – a cloth maybe or a towel half-folded – and he’s slipping his hands underneath Gwen’s this time. If there’s any protest worth making sitting on the tip of her tongue, she swallows it the moment she hears Mildred’s soft gasp of pain.

“Stay with me, Mildred,” Huck’s voice beckons, and Gwen can’t help the dark thought within her that says he has no right to call her that. That says her name, her beautiful name sounds wrong in his timbre. That selfishly thinks stay with me. Until another says who gives a jolly damn who or what Mildred decides to stay for as long as her heart keeps beating. So Gwen’s can too.

Huck’s hands are suddenly replaced by a softer feminine touch and for one deluded moment Gwendolyn thinks maybe, just maybe, she has awoken from a terrible dream. If she could just turn to the left, Mildred would be there, a soft smile and shining gaze, able to tell her everything would be okay.

But the eyes that stare back at Gwendolyn when she looks are blue, not brown, and the hands tugging the blanket around her shoulders are a little too fussy and firm. Betsy. The voice that asks if she is alright to stand is higher than Mildred’s ever was and there is no subtle lisp she has come to love to listen out for. Betsy Bucket is the only one she has left to lean on when it feels like the axis her world spun around has been ripped away from her and she’s too dizzy to trust her own two feet right now.

“She’s going to be just fine…”

Gwen hears the words finally in her ears, something registering beyond the high-pitched ringing as Betsy pulls her away with more care than she thought her capable of. But it’s wrong. Betsy’s wrong. How can any of this be just fine? It’s not fine now. There’s so much blood and it sticks the smooth cotton of Gwen’s gloves to her palms like a damp second skin. She wants to peel and scratch and claw it all away but – but it’s Mildred. She’s holding what she has left of Mildred in her hands. And if they don’t help her, if they can’t help her, will this be all that remains of the radiance that was Mildred Ratched?

Her hands are shaking so hard, even Betsy’s trained fingers tremble as she tries to hold them together in Gwendolyn’s lap. The nurse is calling her name, telling her to breathe, and again there’s that terribly intolerable lie ‘she’ll be fine’. But Betsy can’t tell her the one thing she really wants to know; when she had been staring straight into the shadows of death, why did Mildred look so calm?

***

She’s finally aware, when someone helps to lift her from the chair to give her statement, that Edmund is long gone. The carnage left in his wake rapidly cooling, as quickly as that red stain soaks and seeps into the carpet. Gwendolyn can already see it now; how Betsy or one of the other nurses will be there in the next hour, maybe two, on their knees with a bucket of bleach, washing the blood of the love of her life clean away from those carpet fibres like just another incident.

Gwen doesn’t remember what she says to the police. How they got anything enough to note down on their little pads, she’ll never know. She should have propped her governor’s hat on. She should have pulled herself together and pulled her shoulders back and pulled at any goddamned thing to keep her composure intact. But what had there been left to pull when the one thing she wanted to hold onto had already been pulled away from her? Mercifully Betsy says they left her to her morbid thoughts fast; with a murmur that should have been reassuring but wasn’t, and a landline number on a flimsy card should she happen to recall anything else. As if her remembering the look of shock so briefly on Mildred’s face yet burned behind her eyelids like an imprint would do the force any favours for finding Edmund.

Huck is not the first to suggest Gwendolyn should go home. His jacket - tucked around her shoulders at some point – is big and bulky, too wide in the waist and the material is an ill-ironed cotton blend with a collar that itches at the back of her neck. Or perhaps it’s the faint amalgam of cologne and manly sweat that prickles her skin. It’s too masculine to be anything like Mildred. Mildred and her expensive tastes, her silk nightrobes and chiffon scarves and coats of cashmere in colours so richly dyed she always looks like she stepped fresh from the pictures in glorious technicolour, grander than any silver screen dame. Where Huck lightly suggests, Betsy firmly insists; a chance to wash her hands, to change her clothes and a night’s rest would all do her some good she says. But Gwen still struggles to find her feet, even with the solid arm support at her waist. Mildred always hated people touching her waist, she can’t help thinking, it had been one of the first things Gwen had noticed about her, strange as it was.

Later she would wonder how Betsy got the keys to her car when she doesn’t recall handing them over, and she would hand Huck’s jacket back to the kindly young man once she paid top-dollar for it to be dry-cleaned for him at her own behest. But for now, she simply goes through the motions the others bid her to, her body moving while her mind remains fixed in the moment she could not have predicted such a wonderful night would end in.

***

They let her in, the morning after. It takes more cajoling and coercing than she wishes for, though she can almost understand why. It is probably only because Mildred has no-one else – and Betsy’s subtle string pulling among the night staff of her own she has no doubt – that they allowed her into the small room at all to keep the young nurse company. The small room they have set her up in, one that looks too good to be unused patient quarters but not done up enough to belong to a doctor, is a quaint yet impersonal space. A bed with basic sheets fetched from the storeroom, curtains drawn to keep the harsh light outside from breaching the blank walls. It’s all so cold, and empty, devoid of personality, of life. So unprepared for this sudden occurrence, there aren’t even any typical paper-thin flowers wilting in a vase on the windowsill.

There is nothing here that says this room belongs to a slumbering Mildred Ratched – because yes she is only sleeping, resting, recuperating, Gwen has to remind herself every half hour. Mildred’s belonging had been taken away in a small bag to be examined, and they had been returned some time in the night. But the bag remains on the other chair in the room, untouched. Gwen can’t bring herself to even open it, let alone look inside or take anything out. That’s for Mildred to do, once she wakes, once she’s ready. And hard to understand as the younger woman can be sometimes, Gwen is sure she would be appalled by the thought of someone else going through her things before herself. And Gwen’s reluctance to open the bag has nothing at all to do with the glimpse of rusty stain she had seen for just a second through the lip in the bag when the night nurse had brought it in, of course. She doesn’t have the same reluctance when it comes to looking to the pale form lying so still in the bed. Once her gaze falls to her, she can barely bring herself to look away.

Mildred always looked pale; Gwen might have even dared say anaemic more than once. So often like something from an old portrait - how porcelain the fragile shade of the redhead’s skin often was. Given her diet of bologna, peaches, and endless days of exhaustive work with the ill, invalid and insane, it was hardly surprising.

But this was surprising. It was terrifying even, to see someone’s skin so grey. To see someone who was always moving, lying so still. As far as Gwen knew, Mildred Ratched never stopped for anyone; a cog in constant rotation of her own schemes. Every time Gwen thought she figured out how the pieces fit together or how the parts worked, Mildred would turn anew and prove her wrong all over again. Now all of that had been brought to a standstill because of one Edmund Tolleson. Only the steady rise and fall of the redhead’s chest beneath the blankets, and the quiet beep of the machine keeping it going in such a measured manner, assures her of any movement, of any life.

At first, Gwen had wondered whether she should even be allowed in the redhead’s room, let alone by her bedside. She isn’t family, she isn’t a loved one. She’s not even sure if Mildred ever truly considered her a friend until now; one of the few the nurse would allow herself to have.

One look through the door into that sterile silent room however had been all it took to convince Gwen to step inside, set herself down in the flimsy plastic chair by the bed and wait.

She waits all afternoon.

She waits all night.

She waits long into the early hours of morning until even the next night nurse bids her a fond farewell, along with a blanket and another cup of lukewarm tea that must make a half-dozen Gwen has swallowed down along with all the words she cannot say.

She’s not sure when she reached for Mildred’s hand during the long vigil. But once she does, she doesn’t let go. She knows the moment Mildred wakes, the nurse will probably pull away from the contact, or perhaps Gwen will make sure she’s pulled herself back before then so Mildred wouldn’t feel so imposed on so soon. But for now, just for now, while the whole world is quiet save for Mildred’s breathing and Gwen’s own heartbeat thumping, she held on to Mildred’s hand, and hoped somewhere in her subconscious, Mildred might find something to hold on to.

[hankwritten]

TFComics Rewrite

I am currently plotting an outline for a TFComics, and I want to get my thoughts about fixes to canon and possibly get feedback. Since this is a rewrite there’s really no *spoilers* or anything, so I’m willing to answer all questions about what I plan to do. Also some characters I’m not so sure about how I want to retool them, so if your have ideas for your fav let me know!

Disclaimer:

This rewrite is intended to critique the content/choices made in the construction and telling of the Team Fortress 2 comic series. It is not a personal attack on the artists/writers/directors or any of the creatives that made contributions to this series, nor is it meant to substitute or replace the official release. This work is transformative in nature, and relies on an understanding of the source material to be understood. TF2 and its characters belong to Valve.

TFCR is working on the assumption that the audience has read the original comic, and as such will skip over scenes and plot points that are unchanged from the original. I don’t think it needs to be said, but this fanfiction will not make sense if you are not familiar with the source.

I also recognize that there are strengths within the comic’s writing and weaknesses within my own. Namely, that Valve writers are gods in the realm of comedy, and I’d rather not try to match them in the regard. As such, I will state up front that these will not be as funny as the TFComics. That is not to say there won’t be jokes (either ones transplanted from the source or some of my own) or that the tone of this will be terribly grimdark, only that my focus will be on improving story structure and character development as those are what appeal to me.

 The Broad Strokes

The goal of TFCR is to give a more engaging story for all the mercenaries we know and love, as--let’s face it--the TF2 mercs are side characters in their own damn story. These are some of the planned improvements.

There will be reason for each of the mercs to actually be there. As it stands, the motivations for almost every character besides Pauling and Saxton Hale are vague and unsatisfying. We’d usually say something along the lines of “money” for hired killers, but clearly Scout doesn’t even know if they’re getting paid, and some of the other characters are even worse. The hunt for the Australium is, therefore, boring. MacGuffins usually are, but at the very least the characters should care about the item even if the audience doesn’t. This work aims to give each of the nine mercs a motive and a reason to be in the story instead of just replaceable joke dispensers.

Explain what “Team Fortress” means, and how it relates to RED and BLU. Long and short: the nine mercenaries we see on the team are not from either RED or BLU but rotate between the two, and were the individuals selected to fight the robots. That means all things do happen to all characters. As Valve pretty much goes with “whatever is funniest at the time”, it’s very hard to make a cohesive theory about “where the hell is BLU team?”, but I’ll do my damndest. We’ll also examine Team Fortress’s relationship with the other capital T Teams, and why they’re considered the “rejects” of the bunch.

Comics 1 & 2 will be removed from the timeline as they serve no purpose, only taking what needs to be known about the plot’s setup and jumping straight to A Cold Day in Hell.

We will introduce the Classic Mercs right away so they can generate threat and play against the TF mercs when they do actually meet head to head.

We will not be killing off Gray Mann. (Not preemptively anyway.) In fact, there will be more focus on him and Olivia as villains facing off against the Admin, providing her foil as the TF2 and TFC mercs provide foils for each other.

I considered waiting until the final comic was out to begin working on this, but that may never happen. Jay Pinkerton said he may reveal what plot they had in store eventually, but considering it took Half Life over a decade to get the “I was once a Valve writer but my NDA has expired and now I can go buck wild” treatment, I’m not holding my breath. The main reason I wanted to do this is that the Administrator’s motivations are not interestingly foreshadowed, to the point where there aren’t even any good fan theories out there. That said, WritingDispenser and Riddle of the Sphinx helped come up with a pretty fun one, which was actually the inspiration for me to get off my butt and start plotting this.

There will be no queerbaiting. This refers both to HeavyMedic (which has been simultaneously used as wink wink nudge nudge joke many times and as encouragement for fans to play their stupid hat game) as well as lesbian Pauling (since femme lesbians are the preferred method for front facing LGBT representation across almost all media, but video games especially). If you need to understand why lesbian Pauling is an issue, Sarah Z coined the term “queercatching” in order to describe word of god confirmations on characters sexualities that are not followed up on in the text. I recommend the full video on it.

Due to the importance of immortality in the theming of the comics, respawn will not be a thing. Deaths we think should have happened previously will be explained as close calls, or that Medic can heal a short time after death. Medic and Scout’s deaths will be cut in the story itself, as after Sniper died and came back, them doing the same thing kinda lost their punch.

Scout

There will be no ScoutPauling hints. It doesn’t make sense to give screentime to this relationship because Valve obviously doesn’t think it’s going to go anywhere so why make Scout turn down advances from other hot women? I mean I get Expiration Date was a Thing but it feels like Scout’s whole motivation shouldn’t be reduced down to chasing a girl who doesn’t like him back.

He’s here because he lost his life’s savings in bad investments and needs the money. That’s it. Which is still somehow more than his canon motive which is question mark question mark question mark

He, Soldier, Spy, Demo, and Pyro all start the adventure with Miss Pauling.

Engages with Heavy on a genuine level when they go to collect him, Heavy doesn’t blow him off when he tries to level about dead dads.

There will be no DadSpy reveal. The way Spy treats Scout has never been “deadbeat dad feels bad about abandoning his kid” but more “this is someone I would kill without a second thought if I felt like it” which makes his reveal in comic 5 feel very disingenuous. I don’t think Valve even had this plotline in mind until comic 3, as #2 still has Spy seeming only to care about Scout’s Ma and not Scout himself. It also makes “seduce me!” retroactively weird.

Uhhh hooks up with Zhanna. This one isn’t critical I just think it’s funny.

Soldier

Soldier is going to be the Ur example of the Admin not treating her people well, as we’re going to lean into the whole “Soldier was only mildly messed up until the whole lead poisoning” thing.

He’s here because he’s blindingly loyal to the cause. He’s actually going to very little from canon because of this actually.

Might be the reason Team Fortress has a reputation of being the lower tiers of the Teams, but that doesn’t mean he’s damn good at his job. Fatal flaw is that he’s unstable, and even though the courthouse plotline won’t be in this fic, it should be noted that he actually does cause problems for the other protagonists due to his short temper. He’s a risky asset, but still essential.

There will be a minor explanation for the WAR! Comic, but I think that’s better saved for Demo’s analysis.

Pyro

Pyro is the character you could cut entirely from the comics and have the least change. Now, they’re going to be Pauling’s right hand. Let me explain.

Engineer and Pyro are implied to live together, and Pyro doesn’t have anything better to do than go with Engie after Team Fortress is disbanded. Rather than having a reveal, we will see some of what is going on with the Admin and friends early on, and see what leads up to her sending Miss P the note that kicks off the whole plot. However, while Engie needs to stay and look after her, Pyro’s skills aren’t useful here, and they are sent as a direct messenger to help Pauling.

They’re loyal, and unlike Soldier rarely mess up orders. They’re also partially mute, making them ideal for handling sensitive info. Pauling trusts them to handle the burning of “Elizabeth’s” paper trail.

Will be using they/them in the narrative voice, but other characters will refer to them as he/him. I considered going with it/its because that’s bubbled up in popularity again, but ultimately I decided against it.

We’ll get glimpses to their train of thought, but like the comics they will remain virtually silent.

Demo

Demo’s role in the cast is going to be very similar to Spy’s. The events of WAR! involved him nearly dying and Soldier taking the win, and he’s very bitter that after all those events *apparently* mercs can just be switched around teams willy nilly and don’t have to kill each other anymore. (As the audience, we know this is because the Admin found out the “make them so angry they won’t ask questions” wasn’t a long-term viable solution, and instead brought TFI forward as a neutral third party that was pretending to mediate the gravel wars.) But Demo’s suspicious, and is only along because he really has been miserable since he lost his job.

This conflict will eventually come to a head, more on that in the Sniper section.

Is fairly forgiving with his teammates. Doesn’t like Sniper but I’m willing to drop a little angst during that submarine scene. Is glad to see Medic actually. Here to be some glue to hold this merry band together.

The Eyelander will not be forgotten after 2 comics because I love this character concept and I think it was underutilized.

Drunk jokes will be kept to a minimum. What I liked about WAR! and Bombinomicon was that it took Demo and showed that they knew how to make him funny without making him one note, which they sort of did in the early TFComics but stopped in the later ones in favor of him….being asleep for the whole plot. I promise 100% awake Demo in my rewrite.

Demo likes Pauling on a personal level, but has trouble reconciling her with his feelings on TFI.

Doesn’t get knocked out by moonshine because. Seriously? Poisoning the Demoman with alcohol? In what world does that work.

Heavy

Not too much to change. Scout doesn’t accompany him when he goes to look for the secret Australium cache, and he engages with Mags and Saxton (which will be when the audience finds out what they’ve been up to) and actually cares about what’s going on with them. He thinks Darling is up to something. Which he is, he’s attempting to unseat both Gray and Helen due to long family history.

Will at least mention Medic. Their reunion falls a little flat since it mostly relies on Meet the Medic for context, as they don’t really interact in the comic. There can be a bit of a flashback to what it was like as all these mercs broke up.

I know uhhh Valve seems to think found family is really dumb, and that these murderers could ever like each other is silly or something, but the mercs do? Like each other? For the most part anyways. 

Bronislava and Yana come alone for adventures, not just Zhanna. Again, no real reason, but sometimes I get to have tacky fanfic stuff in my own fanfic because I Wanna.

Engineer

Engie ruminates on his family history of allowing all this bullshit to happen and just kind of shrugging. Basically Moss’s analysis of the Conagher themes.

Has put a lot of time, sweat, and tears into BLU and now TFI, isn’t willing to let it fall now, even if Admin is basically living on borrowed time. He’s doing this because of the ‘ole sunk cost fallacy.

Also we get to see more of Pauling and Admin’s relationship through his eyes.

Medic

Congrats on being the one merc with an actual arc, Medic! As a reward, you will not be changed much.

I’m actually going to use Medic’s section to say that the Classic mercs will be referred to by their first names in order to differentiate them, and we’ll get little previews of what they’re like from Medic’s perspective before we actually see them fight Team fortress. The battle at the submarine will be more of a fight in this sense, working it out so it seems like surrender is the only option after Sniper is killed.

Final fight with Cheavy will be...not blocked so awkwardly. I mean this is now a textual medium so my work is already halfway done, but still the pacing is so weird. Shudder.

Sniper

These are the big guns. Most changes, even more than Demo. He’s been actually hunting for New Zealand/the Australium cache on his own, and doesn’t want Pauling interfering, saying for a he knows she could have been the ones to kill his adoptive parents.

(She hasn’t, but the Admin did actually order them killed in an attempt to stop Sniper because she thought she could prevent the exact thing that is going on right now which is that Sniper is considering trying to get at it.)

Sniper doesn’t know this, but Pauling, Demo, and Spy eventually convince him to share his findings and help them get to New Zealand.

Spy

Similar to Demo but is less conflicted about it. He knows just because he likes someone doesn’t mean he won’t have to kill them later. 

Spy knows about who killed Sniper’s parents, and tells Demo, sort of as a test to see where his loyalties lie. He also knows that Pyro is Pauling’s confidant for certain things.

Demo questions him about what he’s doing here, whose side he’s really on. But you know. Spy is Spy and he was never really on anyone’s side but his own. When it comes down to it, it might be exactly as Scout thinks: that he’s ditched them all and run off when he had the opportunity. But, big damn hero, comes back in the end.

He’s here mainly to “keep an eye on things.” Also maybe because his gf asked him to keep an eye on her son :)

[p1nkwitch]

Ok, there are i think 5 more parts and the little arc is done, then it will be time for random bits, but maybe i will just put those directly into ao3 instead of here.

@nonbinaryeye Heeey angst fest! i feel you will like this.

Also one more thing for the next few chapters. I had to shuffle and rethink some aspects for the characters since there can only be one per session. So either Jon or Elias had to win the light player spot and im afraid its not Elias this time. Im happy with what i chose instead for him but its just a heads up. I feel it suits him well considering several of his actions.

Due to unforeseeable events that you refuse to divulge or go deeper into, you are currently tearing apart the room you are residing in. You are ELIAS BOUCHARD and you are furious beyond repair, beyond imagination and you are also HURT. That man has no right to hurt you. No right whatsoever.

PETER LUKAS is your husband and he has broken up with you, but not like usual. Not like any of the ways before. This was not him and you refuse to acknowledge it, the fact that he actually did by text was even worse. Your sprite and Jonah are both watching you in your destructive fury. Both with different expressions on their faces.

BARNABAS looks like he wants to say something, yet the acidic look that JONAHSPRITE gives him stops him on his tracks. His double is not destroying the room and the only reason he can think of is that the words that the lonely man used with him, actually cut him deep.

It had been cruel and callous in a way that Peter rarely was and even less with him, with either of them. After all he had been the first to say that Jonahsprite was just as real as he was. So to hear him say the opposite was quite jarring, not even that, but to be told he would prefer the cat back instead of him was unbelievable.

You pick up your INDESTRUCTIBLE CANE OF KNOWLEDGE and ask your question. The handle had a crystal 8 ball that would answer anything you needed.

“Does Peter Lukas love me?”

You wait for the answer, for the single word that has appeared every time you have asked that same question since getting the weapon in question. Sometimes you were in a land on your own and the man would not answer back your messages, so you asked the object and knew without a doubt that Peter was just being stubborn and nothing else.

Its not because you loved to hear the confirmation of it.

The ball goes from clear and shiny to dull and grey with fog inside it.

NO

It takes a few seconds to comprehend what you just read, shaking it again you asks.

“Is Peter Lukas in love with me?”

NO

You start to pace and breathe harder.

“Does Peter have any feelings for me??!!”

The words take longer to appear as if it was trying to parse them through, but the answer leaves Elias frozen in place, feeling a deep pit of despair.

HE FEELS INDIFFERENCE AND HATE

PETER LUKAS CAN'T CARE ABOUT JONAH MAGNUS

“Why?!” You punch and hit the wall out of pure rage instinct and hurt. The others in the room flinch. The anger, hurt and grief is too much and you end up letting a sound more animalistic than human.

You don't expect it to tell you an answer, it's not that good yet for full complete answers, but somehow it does.

It's not the answer you wanted.

THE EYE HAS NOT GLANCED TO THE LONELY

AND THE FOG HAS TAKEN A HOLD OF HIM

IT TOOK HIS HEART AND NOW ITS HOLLOWED OUT

THE SPIDER SPINS HER WEB ON HIM

AND NOW THE EMPTY MAN THINKS HE HAS NOTHING

CONGRATULATIONS YOU PLAYED YOURSELF

You are-

No

Elias is done with the narrative, done with the game and the web that got him here.

The thief of heart walks out while the other two follow, he goes until he finds the room he was looking for. Annabelle, Jon, Oliver, Martin, Basira and Melanie are there.

“So you started this and told no one?? What now, we are dooming another world again? Is that it, how many times can you-”

“What did you tell him Miss Cane?” The room goes quiet and everyone stares at him.

“What is wrong with you-”

“Melanie if you don't shut up i will leave you brain dead before you can stab me again. Annabelle what did you tell him to convince him to help?” Said woman was staring at him with mild interest, but did not seem to care much. Annabelle was the only one of them left who had not reached god tier and was in her original body.

Melanie started to move in his direction but the detective stopped her.

“I told him the truth, that there is no other way out, he went willingly if that's what you are concerned about. I did not lie or manipulate him in any way. As for anything else, i told him what he already was thinking, but did not want to say out loud” She waves him away as if it was nothing, as if she just didn't basically ensnared him and doomed him.

“You should treat your toys more kindly less someone else picks them up to play with them. Then again… you do have a history to turn a blind eye to the lonely when its picking apart something you care about” Her eyes turn to something on his back and he knows Barnabas and Jonah are there.

“What are you talking about?” Jonathan, curious as always.

“He just wants to know how I got Peter to help me start the scratch. I just asked very nicely and explained myself and he went willingly that's all, he starts it and Simon gets all of us out”

“Yes, but we leave him behind don't we?” Her smile has fangs on it.

“A price he was happy to pay as long as he was alone, it is the only thing he asked for” No, he is not losing this easily.

“Tell him to stop”

“I'm afraid I can't, and even if I did, he would not listen, too far gone. He is taking the worst parts of his aspect and mixing it with forsaken he is a lost cause now. I'm sure once we make a new earth you can find a replacement, it's in your nature after all to interchange Lukas for Lukas”

Elias is fairly reasonable, he only ever acts out in panic and when he knows he has an advantage.

Which is why he doesn't understand why the next thing he knows is that he is bashing her skull with the INDESTRUCTIBLE CANE OF KNOWLEDGE, over and over again, his ears were ringing and he was sure he could hear the others yelling at him, an arm tries to grab him and he shoves as much painful knowledge into the head of whoever is trying to stop him that they release him.

Before the first hit connected with her head however, Elias actually saw the surprise and fear in her eyes. Annabelle did not expect him to react like this.

She did not expect him to care at all.

By the time he is done, her body is lying on the ground with cobwebs and spiders spilling out of the remains of her crushed head. Breathing hard he looks around and sees everyone with their weapons raised at him, except for Basira who was on the floor holding her head and Oliver who merely nodded at him.

He already knew someone was going to die.

Oh.

“I- i think i might have overreacted” The faces of sheer incredulity hit him and before any of them try to stop him Jonah grabs his shoulder.

“He will be in the land of Time, if we hurry..” They won't make it back he knows.

Elias doesn't want to die, but he is so angry at Peter.

No, he is furious at him. After all this time and after everything.

This is not how it ends.

Holding the cane he makes a run for the window and jumps out.

He flies as fast as he can to go and beat up his husband to death. If Peter shall die it would be by his hand, he won't let him leave him first, not like this. Elias will never let him have the last word over him and will not let him die like he wants either.

[newcaptainofsquad9]

So, When Can We Tell The World? {1} Min Yoongi x black! fem! reader

Parts: 1 2 3 4  5 6 

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Summary: You and Yoongi have been collaborating for a few years, what the public world didn’t know however was that the both of you were in a happy, functioning relationship. After showing up to support at one of your shows, Yoongi suggests going public, making you anxious for him, but most of all your own well-being with his fans and of what the South Korean public would think of you. 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Idol-verse, Smut (hinted at in this part, but none explicitly)

Word Count: 2, 046

Author’s Note: So, here we are another series. I know too many, but this one will probably be the same chapter length as Shakespeare Sub, I promise. Anyways, I hope ya’ll enjoy it and if ya’ll have any BTS or EXO requests, send them my way. Thanks!

The last song of the concert always feels surreal. The stage isn’t huge, just a decent sized theater in Bluetsville(your hometown). It’s the thought that gets me, I’ve played at bigger venues before, yet coming back always gets me emotional. Once the song finishes I smile so hard my cheeks hurt and glance out into the crowd as applause fills the entire venue. 

One person stands out the most with his over-sized black hoodie, glasses and a cap with my stage name on it. I wouldn’t have done a double take if he didn’t flash that familiar gummy smile, as if he knew I was going to look there. It’s only a moment, yet I recognize Yoongi’s smile anywhere, he hardly does it even around me. Maybe his fans don’t notice him but in that slip second I did as he claps the loudest before sending me his finger hearts. I start to do it back, but stop myself abruptly. No, that’ll just draw attention to us. It’s almost an exclusive k-pop gesture, which someone on Twitter could easily pick up on. Instead I send him a quick wink. 

“Thank you so much!” I scream.

The crowd reacts in thunderous applause once more, I give one last bow and turn back towards the curtain, disappearing behind it.

***

I find myself dressed down in my dressing room, wearing one of Yoongi’s old hoodies, a snapback and grey sweats. My phone lights up abruptly, signalling an upcoming call from my brother, Kevin of all people. 

“Sup loser,” I say through a low giggle. 

“Yo idiot,” he answers back, “how’d the show go?”

I sigh with a dopey grin.

It was amazing. Even though the people packed together in swayed, waved and sung together like a frenzied horde, I couldn’t help but think back to Yoongi. I hope he got to wherever he needed to safely. 

“Uh, did you hear me?” Kevin asks. 

“Y-Yeah,” I say quickly, “it went amazing, a little more daunting compared to my first tour.”

Kevin gaffs.   

“If that didn’t boost your chances at the Grammys, I don’t know what will!” 

I chuckle against the phone at my brother’s words. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works Kev,” I say, “I don’t really care, they invited me, I guess to preform.”

Kevin hums. 

“Yeah?” he asks, “And what about ol’ Agust D, eh? he performing with you? I heard him and the guys were supposed to be there too.”

I can’t help but smile when he mentions Yoongi’s other rap persona. That album was what made me discover Yoongi’s music, along with BTS’s discography and eventually pushed me to want to collaborate with them. What I didn’t expect was to fall in love with Yoongi during our time recording All The Crown Players(a song from your album). 

“I’m not really sure,” I say, “you know how they can be.”

“Oh, I know, how can they snub you twice!” Kevin whines, “anyway, I gotta go! Next time you talk to ol’ Suga tell him I said hey!”

I roll my eyes. 

“I told you  to call him Yoongi,” I groan. 

“Ey, that’s what the fans call him,” he says, “talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too idiot,” I say.

Kevin starts to say something else but I hang up anyway. If he’s got something to do he won’t call back as fast and I won’t get another earful. 

“That’s what you get for teasing me about my boyfriend,” I mutter to myself.  

A text from Yoongi lights my phone up instead. 

Yoongi: It amazes me every time you perform, God you were so amazing babe

My dopey smile returns once my fingers numbly tap the keypad in response.

Me: I saw you at the end! How the hell did you get in without anyone recognizing you?

Yoongi responds straight away.

Yoongi: I have my ways. I’ve been doing this for seven years sweetheart, I’ve mastered the art of incognito mode. 😎

My grin spreads out at his message. My fingers follow the lame joke that pops into my head, yet I couldn’t care less.

Me: So, what you’re Batman? No, Anpanman! 😂😂

I giggle out as Yoongi’s response takes a little longer, as it should. Between my lame jokes and Jin’s dad jokes I think he’s fed up with the both of us. At least with me it makes some sort of sense. 

A moment passes, instead of a text back I get a call from Yoongi. Oh boy. 

“Hello?” I answer.

“I know you’re laughing,” Yoongi says, “I just want to confirm that it wasn’t funny.”

I cover my mouth to stifle the remaining giggles that flood out. 

“I know, but it’s true,” I say, “you are my Anpanman.”

Yoongi grumbles something that I can’t make out. 

“Sorry babe, what was that?” I ask. 

“Nothing Jagi,” he says, “anyway —”

“Yoongi,” I warn, “tell me, please?”

Yoongi sighs deeply.

“I said, I better be your Anpanman,” he admits, “are you happy now?” 

“Yes,” I say, “how long are you gonna be here?”

“As long as you want me,” Yoongi answers, “we got a small break before Grammys and the MMAs. I was wondering if we could meet at your place.”

My heart hammers in my chest at his words. We’ve stayed with each other overnight before, yet I always feel like I’m some lovestuck teenager when I’m around Yoongi. We rarely get moments together, if it’s public we have to remain friendly, but not too friendly to raise dating suspicions. Even when he’s here in America it’s difficult to schedule time for each other. I’m an artist too and BTS is getting just as huge, the fact that Yoongi and I both have time before the Grammy’s is a God send.    

“Y/N?” Yoongi asks, breaking me from my thoughts. 

“Yeah, we can meet there,” I reassure, “you still have a key?”

“You know I do,” he says, “see you there.”

I bit my lip before humming in agreement. 

***

The moment I step across the threshold of my house, I shut the door and twist the locks in place. A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist before I can get a chance to take my hands off the cold locks. 

“I need to go to your shows more often,” Yoongi says. 

I shiver at his breath near my ear and turn around in his arms to face him. He’s in his dark hoodie, but the hat is gone, revealing soft, short brown hair that falls into his eyes. 

“You come when you can,” I say, “I’m just glad you got there safely.”

Yoongi chuckles while he moves a hand up to cup my face. 

“You worry too much,” he notes, “I’m here, ok?”

His eyes soften as they bore into mine, he leans in to press our foreheads together. I follow his lead, our lips meet in a fierce kiss, something we haven’t been able to do in months. My fingers find themselves in his brown locks as he groans into the kiss, backing up slightly, yet not disconnecting from my lips. 

I pull back with a giggle.

“Are you good?”

Yoongi nods and nudges his head towards my velvet sofa. 

“I just wanted to take this to the couch,” he admits, “your concert took everything out of me.”

“Oh really?”

Yoongi nods as I take his hand and lead him to the sofa before we both plop down on it. 

“Really,” he confirms with a kiss, “you kinda got me worked up actually.”

I return his kisses fully, pull myself up into his lap and rub down his chest. 

“Is that in a good way?” I challenge. 

Yoongi growls against my jaw, kissing down my neck as his hands rub up and down my sides. 

“Oh it’s good baby, so good,” he groans, “God, tug your fingers in my hair again.”

I nod as our lips meet once again, my fingers find themselves in his hair as our make out continues. His moans make me smile, his hips bucking up against me as the kisses grow hungrier. 

“You’re so needy,” I whisper, “do you need me to take care of that?”

Yoongi’s eyes close as he nods. 

“Please, I, God, I love you,” he moans. 

My hands freeze once I reach for the buckle of his pants. Did he just say the l word? 

Yoongi opens his eyes, the lust that was once there is replaced with concern.

“Y/N?” he asks, “you all right?”

I nod and slide back onto the couch from his lap. 

“Yeah,” I lie. 

Of course I knew he loved me, he never says it though. I’m the one you says it, and Yoongi always responds with a “me too” or “love you more.” Never fully. It shouldn’t bother me much, yet it does for some reason. 

“Y/N,” Yoongi says. 

I look up and his face is only an inch from my own. 

“Was that too much?” he asks, “what did I do wrong?”

I stroke his cheek and shake my head. 

“Nothing, it’s just,” I pause before continuing, “it was just surprising to hear I love you from you.”

Yoongi pulls back to pull me into an embrace. 

“You had me worried,” he whispers, “I know I need to say it more especially when we’re pressed for time together.”

I smile in the crook of his neck. 

“No, it’s fine,” I say, “we can keep it between us.”

Yoongi pulls back with a puzzled glare.

“What do you mean?”

I sit up and gnaw at my lip. 

“Maybe, we shouldn’t say it often, because I don’t want it to slip out at the wrong time,” I explain, “with ARMY and all those girls clawing at you.”

Yoongi chuckles as he leans in to plant a few kisses down my neck. 

“Do they make you jealous?” he asks.

I can hardly focus as his lips continue to work. 

“Well, a little,” I say, “it’s a lot to live up to.”

Yoongi grows serious. I end up against his chest as his arms wound themselves tightly around me. His heart beats rhythmically in tune with mine, forcing me to calm down just a bit.

“They don’t hold a candle to you,” he says, “I love them, but it’s a different type of love. You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

The words get lodged in my throat at the intense look Yoongi throws at me. He’s completely serious. 

“Yoongi-”

“Y/N, I want to tell the world,” he admits, “ARMY, everyone.”

Where is he going with this?

“Yoongi, what are you-”

“We should be official,” Yoongi declares.

My mind goes haywire. He isn’t serious, right?

“But we are official,” I say, “Yoongi, we’ve already established that we’re dating.”

Yoongi shakes his head this time.

“Y/N you know what I mean,” he says, “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

A rush comes to my head at once. The headlines would be horrendous: “BTS star Suga has been revealed to be dating ‘urban’ Hip Hop artist Y/N Y/L/N.” Kpop Twitter will literally implode in on itself. Yoongi won’t get any rest and I won’t be able to live it down. If I was Korean maybe, just maybe I would get out alive, even if I was white too, but as a black woman? There’s not a chance in hell.

“Babe, please tell me what you’re thinking,” Yoongi pleads,”you’ve been quiet for awhile.”

“Yoongi, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say.

“How come?” he asks.

“Well, for one, do you know what happened with Chen? Kai? Jennie?” I ask, “the fans would devour me!”

“They wouldn’t,” he grumbles, “you’re an amazing person, singer, rapper and writer.”

“Yeah and black,” I say bluntly, “they can’t get past that.”

Yoongi takes both of my hands prior to squeezing tightly. 

“I know, but they’ll just have to handle it, right?”

It’s like the words aren’t even being comprehended. Does he not hear me? 

I inhale slowly and stand from the couch. 

“Y/N-”

I give Yoongi an artificial smile, something to get him off my back for a moment. 

“I-I’m ok, I-I just need some time to myself,” I say. 

Yoongi deflates, but nods anyway before leaning back into the couch. 

[caffeinetheory]

Can I humbly request some fake dating Jasonette?

Okay fair warning I kinda went ham and this is long, it’s like ten pages but for you it was worth it, I hope you enjoy it <3<3<3 now without further adieu:

///

Jason was in dire need of a date for the upcoming Gala, why you might ask? Well someone wasn’t thinking and said they had a secret girlfriend, which didn’t exist. Now the whole family was happy he had finally found someone. Dick was the most persistent, the hopeless romantic he was. 

 Telling Diana about over lunch a 2 months before the big annual charity gala was either the best decision he made or one he would regret, only time would tell. 

 She laughed in his face at his stupidity, but was willing to help. She sent a text and rolled her eyes when she got a response a few minutes later, “My sister will do it, be prepared to meet her next week at your place,” and that was that. He wasn’t expecting to actually get a date from her but hey, if it worked then he’ll go with it. He had about 2 months to make it believable, but god why did it have to be an Amazon.

 A knock on his apartment door at 3 a.m. was now how Jason would be meeting who ever Diana had convinced to do this “fake date” thing with him, so a 5”6’ women pushing herself into his apartment when the door was opened certainly woke him up.

 “And who might you be?” the door closed behind him with a soft click, the woman was surveying the room with a judgemental look, ‘lovely’. She turned sharply to him, her distaste clear on her face, “Someone who lost a bet so I owe Diana a favor,” she visibly sighed and relaxed slightly, “I’m sorry, my name is Marinette Prince, but you can call me Mari, nice to meet you.” Mari held her hand to the bewildered Jason who hesitantly shook it, “Jason Todd but I'm going to assume you already knew that.”

 And that was the rocky start to their relationship. Mari had been living on Themyscira for the last few years so she needed some time to get used to living in the rest of the world. To say she was ecstatic to be able to wear more modern fashion would be an understatement. Their first ‘date’ was in the fashion district a few days after she made herself at home in his apartment. Six hours after they started Mari was finally satisfied, and Jason could no longer feel his arms. They decided to eat dinner at one of the hole-in-the-walls on their way back to Jason’s place. 

 Neither knew how the conversation had gotten on the different costumes of the various heroes and villains but it had sent Mari off on a rant. Despite himself Jason was enjoying every word she said, every critique and every praise. To be fair there wasn’t as much praise was there was critique, but to say his ego wasn’t inflated when “one of the rare acceptable ones” was the Red Hood would be a straight up lie. It was the first time Mari was acting with little to no filter, and granted they hadn’t known each other long he could tell this was rare for her. He was finding himself proud that he was the one to get her to be open like that, why he couldn’t tell you but it did nonetheless.

-------------------------

The two had fallen into domestic life pretty quickly, maybe to quickly, but that didn’t matter. When Jason came home to a clean apartment and dinner being made by his ‘girlfriend’ he was surprisingly okay with it.

 “How was your day?” Mari was placing two plates of something heavenly on the small table just outside of the kitchen. Was that table always there? “It was decent, yours?” he began to dig in while a drink was placed next to him and Mari took her seat across from him. “It was nice, I finally got around to cleaning this place up,” her hair was put in a pair of double buns as she wore some shorts and a tank top clearly having changed recently. 

 “You know you didn’t have to right?” 

 “I enjoy organizing and consider it a small thanks for helping me with shopping the other day and dealing with my rants,” she had a small smile on her face.

 The rest of the night was spent showing Jason where she put everything. The number of guns didn't faze her but living surrounded by weapons he supposed that made sense. The organized first-aid kit was a god send though, on more ruined towels to stop the bleeding. 

------------------------------

The next date Jason planned was a movie, it was Diana’s idea. He couldn’t figure out why taking Mari to an anniversary replaying of an animated superhero movie from almost ten years ago would be in her words “comedy gold”. That was until Mari saw the opening theme and let out a loud groan.

 An hour and fifteen minutes later the credits start to roll and Mari is practically dragging him out of the theater. “This was Diana’s idea wasn’t it?!” Jason couldn’t help the chuckle escaping him, Diana was right this was golden, the only thing she got this heated about what the costumes but this felt more personal. “I swear to the gods, I hate that movie! Nothing was right, He’s like my brother! And I may have been young but I wasn’t STUPID?!” Mari realizes her misstep and quickly covered her mouth dropping Jason’s wrist making him stumble, “Well, M’Lady,” he got punched for that, “I am inclined to believe the totally historically accurate animated film,” she rolled her eyes at him, “It does explain a lot though, and lets just say you're not the only one with red suits in their past,” a wink and another punch in the arm and they left the theater a laughing mess leaning on each other so they wouldn’t fall over. “Oh you arse,” “You know you love me,” another light punch, this one with very little behind it, “Worth it!”

------------------------------

Their third date was more impulsive than the last one. It had been a tough week. For Jason his family was hounding him for details about his girl and the last case he helped with took more effort than he thought it would. Mari on the other hand had been working all week on commission (how Bruce Wayne found out about her she didn't want to know) sketches, she had to make close to ten outfits for the Gala in a month and a half, sure she could do it but the perfectionist in her meant very little sleep. She still had hers and Jason’s to make, not that he knew that yet. 

 That Saturday they found themselves at a small coffee shop Tim liked to rave about. It was homey place, and they both needed to get out of the house. 

 “You know if the replacement sees us you’re gonna have to talk about how we met-” a finger shushed him, Mari looked more dead than Tim did, she needed her coffee fix, anything else could wait.

“Shhhhh Coffee now, annoying family later,” her words were slightly slurred, she hadn’t slept in two days but she finished the sketches to be approved so that was a positive. 

 Once the once the vanilla and cinnamon coffee hit her system she was her joyful self again. Jason had gotten himself a honey chamomile tea, it always helped with the stress. What was originally supposed to be a quick in and out ended up with them spending most of the morning just chatting. 

 They talked about anything and everything. They had been living together for about 3 weeks now so they were leaning the other’s quirks. She finally told him what she was working on, and laughed as his face scrunched up hearing his adoptive fathers name, she had to admit it was kinda cute. Mari also came clean about needed his measurements so they could have matching outfits, she showed him the designs. Jason had to admit he was impressed, and noticing how they looked like something MDC would make he learned another thing about the girl with him. She sure was full of secrets.

 The rest of the day after their lovely coffee ‘date’ was spent going to fabric stores getting the stuff she needed to make everyone's outfits. Each one had elements that hinted subtly to their alter egos and pasts while still have a consistent color scheme and accents that paired the couples. 

 Jason gained yet another layer of appreciation for the girl, what couldn't she do?

--------------------------------

Turns out taking her to the Gotham Botanical Gardens was a way better idea than Jason had originally thought it would be. The plants seemed to grow and perk up as she walked by. Her smile brighten up the whole room; as she twirled in a pale green sundress inspired by the keeper of the gardens Jason couldn’t help but smile as well. She really looked like a goddess in this light. He couldn’t be happier he helped bring that smile and joy to her face, she deserved the world. When he started thinking like that he couldn’t tell you but the idea this would end soon was one he avoided thinking about. Maybe there wouldn’t be an end, but only time would tell wouldn’t it?

 Ivy sensed something was different in her precious gardens and went to investigate, her girlfriend followed to make sure on one got overly hurt. Both of them were shocked to see the plants blooming more than usual and just two people walking the gardens. The girl seemed to be making the pants so happy Ivy just had to talk with her, so she quietly made her was over to the young women hoping to not scare her. Harley made her way over to the former Robin, a little teasing was in order. 

 Yet another surprise from the former Ladybug he probably should have seen coming, Ivy adored the woman, insisting that she come more often to which Mari eagerly agreed complementing Ivy’s botanical knowledge the whole time. Suprisong himself he didn’t deny Harley’s tasing about his feelings for her, she really was something special wasn’t she?

-----------

When Mari found out Jason hadn’t seen all of the Star Wars movies she made him sit with her all weekend to watch them, he only agreed if they would watch all of Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit trilogy the next weeked. 

 Their next two weekends were now booked and snack runs were made. Jason made the Living room into a palace of blankets and pillows while Mari prepared snacks and drinks. They wouldn’t be getting up for awhile.

 When episode 3’s credits were rolling Mari made an offhand comment about how hot Anakin was and how she felt bad for his fate, well Jason felt a little envious. Something about misunderstood, dark haired boys was Mari’s type apparently. The subtle hints were lost on him but they enjoyed the rest of the films. They skipped the newer trilogy for time and so they had something to watch in theaters.

 Mari fell asleep on his arm mid way through episode 6 and Jason couldn’t bring himself to wake her, he fell asleep as the end credits rolled. Both had a content smile on their faces as they dreamed of fantasy worlds long ago and far far away.

--------

Mari had a surprise for Jason, “Come on Jay, get out of bed already,” she was pulling him out of bed on a tuesday, TUESDAY! 

 With much prodding and poking Mari was able to get them out of the apartment by 8, she had a surprise for him and refused to tell him what it was. “Just trust me it will be worth it,” she handed him his helmet and got on his bike. He found himself not minding someone else driving his bike for once.

 The wind was blowing fast as they left the center of the city, they were in the outskirts in a more smalltown area of the city. It was like a whole different world like they had gone to a place untouched by the corruption of Gotham propper. They finally slowed down and parked in front of an older building. Secret Cave the sign read, no way, did she really go out of her way to take him here. 

 Taking off her helmet she shook her head to loosen her ponytail, he took this chance to really look at her. She was wearing a red v-neck under one of his older leather jackets and some dark blue jeans. She had a small black bag what went with her combat boots, both had flowers embroidered on them, he had to admit she was beautiful. 

 “Come on Jay, I got a surprise for you,” she was pulling his hand now as they entered the spacious store, books covered every surface and there were rows upon rows of selves. It was almost hard to move, not wanting to disturb the books but they had made it to one of the small sitting areas, “Wait here I’ll be right back.” Jaso found himself obeying and looking at the books in the area, lots of classic literature in fancy leather bound editions and some of the quintessential plays everyone had to read at some point in their original language, this was heaven for a book nerd like him.

 20 Minutes later a hand covered his eyes, “Guess who,” her laugh melted his heart, “I don’t know, maybe… one Mari” he scooped her up in a hug, “I love you so much,” before he could realize what he had said, “I know you big nerd, I love you too.”

 When he finally put her down, the blush was on both of their faces at their confessions, ‘they didn’t really mean that did they’ she gave him a thick parcel. “Open it later big guy, but consider it a thank you for everything.” her blush seemed to get worse but so was his, maybe it was the room, yeah it had to be right? “I should be the one thanking you but okay…” he trailed off not quite knowing where to go with this conversation, there was so many things he wanted to say to her but he couldn’t get the words out of his throat. Unknown to him Mari was in the same boat, after a beat of silence, “Want to go to the café next door than browse some more?” “Absolutely.”

 They left the shop, hand in hand, and spent the rest of the afternoon together exploring the surrounding area and exploring the store, the gift still untouched for now.

 When he would eventually open it a few days later he found red leather bound copies of all his favorites with a J engraved into the cover. These were something he’d treasure for as long as he lived.

-----------

It was the last weekend before the Gala, all the outfits were done and fitted so mari had free time, and Jason had cleared the day to spend with his ‘girlfriend’, were the quotes still there? Were they something more now? Hopefully he’d find out tonight.

 It was Roy and Diana’s idea. A dinner at an upscale restaurant, the Ocelot came to mind so he got reservations for the two of them. Diana insisted on covering it, and Roy made sure he had the perfect suit. To say Jason was nervous would be an understatement but it only got worse when Mari stepped out of her room in a floor length dress that made her look like a straight up greek goddess, she was stunning and that felt like an understatement. Her hair was lightly curled and was flowing down her back, a small golden flowers rested atop her head in a crown shape, he was glad Roy had helped him get a suite that made him look mature but he felt he still paled in comparison to her beauty. 

 They had a lovely dinner, they had gotten a table secluded in the back. It started with nervous and awkward conversation that quickly melted away into the easy conversation they usually shared, it was one of the nicest dates they had ever been on. It felt like a real date with no pressures to fake something, somehow this fake relationship had turned into a real true and meaningful one. 

 The ‘couple’ was so engrossed with each other they hadn’t noticed the spying eyes that watched from different areas of the restaurant. There were at least 16 different people watching their date if not more but if they noticed they didn’t care. The only thing on their mind was the person in front of them. 

 As they were leaving the dining room they had eaten in, Jason finally found the courage to ask, “Does this mean-” Mari cut him off with a kiss on the cheek and a tighter grip on his hand, “Absolutely Jay, I wouldn’t trade this for the world.” 

 Small cheers could be heard in the room as they had left, it had been a success!

-----------

It was finally the night of the gala, Jason and his official girlfriend Marientte would be making their debut to the public. To say it was stressful would be putting it lightly, all the other outfits had been dropped off at the Wayne Manor the day before so that was at least taken care of. They had two hours before the Gala would start, so just over an hour to get ready. The apartment was a mess, making sure they had everything.

 Jason’s suit was a dark crimson color with a midnight blue tie to tie it in with the rest of his family. The intricate beading and embroidery shined and became seen when the light hit it right, his hair was fluffy as usual but more kept than usual, the white streak pushed to the side with the rest of his hair. He looked like a proper gentleman thanks to his lady. She had a floor length ball gown that made her look like a princess.  The bodice was the same midnight blue as his tie and had off the shoulder sleeves that were see through. The skirt that flowed from her his was made with the same crimson red with balck beading and embroidery in a variety of patterns. The apple blossoms were the most obvious and they traveled up her bodices in a blood red color that was made more clear in the right light, she wore black greek sandless underneath her dress and her hair was pinned to the side, a golden flower crown that Diana insisted she wore atop her head, if she looked like a goddess when they went to dinner, she was simply ethereal now, words could do no justice for how stunning she looked right now. To think she made this all by hand was beyond him.

 Hand in hand they entered the ballroom, all eyes were on them. The camera flashes made them sparkle as they made their way down the carpet. Every reporter wanted to know everything about them and their outfits, this was the first time Jason had been seen at one of these actually looking happy and not coming with his family. It was the talk of everyone there.

 “Thank the gods we finally made it inside,” Mari was already pulling him to a place she could get a drink. “You still need to introduce me properly to your family you know.” 

 “Thanks for reminding me, you know I’m sure you  have met them all already.”

 “That’s not the point Jay!” she hit his arm softly then picked up two glasses of champagne, “Cheers?”

 “Cheers” they clinked their glasses and chugged them down. It was going to be quite the night.

 They had finally made the rounds to  all of his family and the important people of the gala and 2 hours in they had a moment to themselves. 

 “This is why I avoided these for so long.”

 “I know right, to many fake pleasantries if you ask me.” 

 “At least we are in this together,” both said at the same time, causing them to burst into a fit of giggles.

 “God I could kiss you right now.”

 “Then why don’t you,” without giving Jason a chance to backtrack Marientte pulled him down to her and locked their lips in a passionate kiss. It was pure bliss, something they both needed and longed for and finally had. It felt right, like home. “Took you long enough,” Jason had a smirk as they pulled away, the applause didn't reach their ears as they pulled each other into another one this time less needy but soft, they felt whole in each others arms, this was what they had been missing for so long and now that they had it, they wouldn’t give it up for the world.

 ///

Asks are still open, don’t hesitate to ask!!

[zwritestuff]

Some Things Are Bound To Be (Chapter Four) - Kyara

A/N: HELLO I AM ALIVE AND WELL. This chapter was such a bitch to write, I swear I have more deleted scenes that actual scenes. A million thanks to Emerald ( @fromthenorthernskies​ ) for putting up with be while writing this and beta-ing, and to Ella ( @dawningofdrag​ ) for correcting the Tagalog bit. I love you both very much. 

Read On AO3.

***

“Kyne, if you pinch me again, I swear to god—” Kiara’s threat is interrupted by a yelp, and a giggle from Kyne’s end as she secures the pin on the fabric.

“If only you would stay still, I wouldn’t pinch you while trying to make some adjustments,” Kyne says simply, standing up and briefly inspecting the waist area. “Does that feel tight enough?” She asks, walking around Kiara, who just nods, absent-mindedly running her hands around her torso.

She’s not sure what time it is, only knows that the night has arrived hours ago and there’s been a soft rain falling for half of that time. It’s hard to notice the passing of time when she’s with Kyne, talking and laughing and being closer than she ever imagined, when she puts her hands firmly on her body to make arrangements or to keep her still - it’s hard to notice reality altogether.

Kiara goes to the bathroom to take off the dress, and as she’s slipping back into her own clothes, she hears how the rain starts pouring harder and harder. She sees a streak of light in the sky from the tiny window, followed by thunder. She jumps slightly, mumbling a curse as she leaves the bathroom and re-joins Kyne in the living room, who’s quickly closing the windows.

“And the weatherman said we’d have a week without rain,” Kiara says, leaving the dress on the couch. “What time is it, anyway?” She asks, looking around for her phone.

“Like 2 a.m.,” Kyne quickly replies, taking the dress and placing it over the coffee table, flopping onto the couch right away. “How did it get so late? Jesus. I didn’t even notice.” She rubs her face with the back of her palms, stifling a yawn. “You wanna eat something? I have leftover lasagna from yesterday, or I have enough cheese to make pizza if you want—”

“I think I should leave before it gets worse,” she interrupts Kyne, fetching her jacket from the rack. She turns to see her, finding her with a frown on her face as she fidgets with her hands.

“Y’know, it really is late, the storm is getting pretty bad by the second, but you live half across the city. I really wouldn’t mind if you stayed the night, y’know.”

Kiara blinks repeatedly, before she realizes what Kyne just said. She feels her face heat up, and it takes her a moment to manage a sentence without stuttering. The offer had taken her completely by surprise.

“I don’t wanna bother you, it’s fine,” she says, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. 

“You’re not a bother,” Kyne is quick to reply, shifting on the couch and staring at Kiara with a gentle smile. “I mean it, you can stay here.” 

There’s silence for a moment, in which Kiara thinks of a hundred and one excuses to give Kyne to not stay the night. She’s no stranger to running away after a hookup, but this is different in all ways possible, and the way Kyne’s looking at her, silently hoping she’ll accept with that small smile on her face - it’s hard to say no.

Kiara sighs, rubbing her temples as she hangs up her jacket on the rack again and tells Kyne she’ll take the couch. Kyne gives her a toothy smile, saying she would never let her sleep in her room, anyway - she wants to have some dignity left after this, thank you very much.

“My parents would probably scold me and tell me to give you my room, but it’s a hot mess in every way possible,” she tells her over their dinner: heated lasagna and coca cola. “‘Sides, I have a very complex system for finding things, and I would prefer to keep it a secret.” Kiara cocks an amused brow, sipping on her drink.

“I didn’t have you as the type to be messy,” she comments, resting her chin on her palm. Kyne rolls her eyes slightly, stuffing her mouth with the last bit of the lasagna.

“There are many things you don’t know about me.” She winks at her cheekily, proceeding to leave the dishes in the sink, telling Kiara to just leave it like that, she’ll clean up tomorrow. Right now, all she wants to do is get a good night of sleep. But her words are running through Kiara’s mind: she’s not exactly wrong - there are a lot of things she doesn’t know about Kyne, and there are a lot of things she’s discovered in such a short time. She’s curious about what else there’s to unravel regarding Kyne’s personality and life, and she’s never been particularly patient, but for her, she guesses she can make an exception.

Kyne brings her pillows and a blanket, trying to make the couch as comfortable as she can, and she assures her that everything is good, until they realize something. Kiara’s clothes aren’t precisely comfortable to sleep in.

They stare for a moment, before Kyne sighs, mumbling something Kiara can’t quite catch and leaves for a moment, only to come back with a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, saying she can wear them if she wants. Kiara bites back a smile when she notices the rosy tone of her cheeks as she hands her the clothes.

“I’m gonna go sleep now, you can change in the bathroom, or here, I don’t know, that’s up to you, and, uh, if you need a charger I have a spare one in this drawer,” she rambles a little, pointing at the drawer. Kiara just thanks her with a polite smile, amused at the rare sight of a flustered Kyne. “Good night, Kiki.” 

Kiara’s a little thrown off when she hears the nickname come out of Kyne’s lips for the first time, but smiles nonetheless, “Good night, Kyne.” They smile at each other for a moment before Kyne leaves to her room, and Kiara is left standing alone in the living room.

She takes a deep breath and gets changed, immediately being hit with the smell of vanilla emanating from the clothes. She smiles a little, breathing in the scent as she lies on the couch.

The sleeping part doesn’t come easy, mostly, she supposes, because she’s at Kyne’s place, on her couch, and all the photos of Kyne hanging from the walls that are looking down on her, somehow reminding her that this wasn’t part of the plan and it will only make things more awkward once it’s time to call their scheme off. So she does the only logical thing she can think of: texting Rita and Tynomi. 

They have a group chat that’s mostly for talking shit about other co-workers, sending files and, in Tynomi’s case, to use it as a replacement for the notes app. Neither of the three uses it much outside work hours, but now, it really comes in-handy.

So, you guys won’t believe this, she prefaces, hitting send way too quickly; she doesn’t think either of them are up, anyway.

That’s where she’s wrong.

Tynomi answers after some moments, while Kiara is still typing, and Rita follows suit. Kiara deletes what she had just typed to ask them what they are doing up at these hours.

Kiara snorts, re-typing her whole message with odd excitement.

Rita and Tynomi answer almost immediately to Kiara’s surprise, apparently she’s caught their attention. She takes a deep breath before replying; she knows they’ll freak out and take things out of context before she has an option of explaining, it’s their thing. Especially considering they’ve taken every opportunity they have to pester her about Kyne.

She bites back a giggle as she hits send on a meme, completely flustered at the conversation going on - Tynomi’s “you don’t usually stay the night” hits too close home, but, she reminds herself, this is different. She’ll probably forget this happened in a couple months, once they’ve broken up and this turns into a funny story they can confide to their friends.

Kiara talks to them until she’s running out of battery, and has to inevitably go to sleep, not without fetching Kyne’s charger and setting it aside.

Rita and Tynomi’s words linger on her mind before she finally falls asleep, and Kiara wonders for a split second what it’d be like if she were actually dating Kyne. She supposess not much would change, not really.

***

Kiara isn’t woken up by the sun, the birds chirping, or any of that - rather, it’s the noise coming from the kitchen that makes her reluctantly wake up. For a moment she forgets where she is, until she hears Kyne’s voice and remembers she had been persuaded to stay the night. She rubs her eyelids, trying to shake off the sleepiness, and unwillingly gets up to meet Kyne at the kitchen.

It’s tiny, and she easily finds her perched against the counter, wearing a worn out tank top and shorts, glancing at the coffee machine with annoyance, muttering things under her breath as she fidgets with her hair. Kiara can't believe she has the audacity to look good just woken up.

“Hey, mornin’,” she greets, and Kyne jumps a little, before lazily smiling at her, rubbing her eyelids.

“Gandang umaga,” she says, dragging the last A. “If you want coffee, may tasas diyan sa cabinet, though you should take a seat, this coffee machine is shit, kainis eh, tagal bago makagawa ng kape,” Kyne mutters with a growl, not realizing the inquisitive look Kiara is giving her.

They stare at each other for a moment, Kiara cocks an amused brow, perching herself against the doorframe, before Kyne realizes she clearly doesn't know Tagalog.

“Sorry, I do that a lot, mixing Tagalog and English I mean. I can't properly function without my morning coffee,” she explains, stifling a yawn. She stands on her tiptoes to reach a cupboard, and Kiara quickly approaches her from behind, fetching two mugs with ease, setting it on the counter. Kyne turns to see her with a slight frown. “I could reach for it without help,” Kyne says, with an annoyed tone that just causes Kiara to giggle. She mumbles something else under her breath that Kiara can’t quite catch, both because the noise coffee machine makes and because she can’t understand Tagalog.

“Whatever you say.” She puts her palms up in surrender and watches as Kyne pours the coffee in the mugs, telling her to grab them and set them on the table while she makes toasts. 

They move with ease around the kitchen, despite the lack of space making them bump into the other more than once, mostly because they’re sleep deprived, but Kiara can clearly see how Kyne evades her gaze, how she keeps herself busy to not have to make small talk. Kiara tries not to think much about it, maybe having her there threw her off a little from her morning routine - either way, it’s too early to overthink.

Well, she’s not exactly sure what time it is, but it’s not like it matters, anyway; not when she’s with Kyne.

They make breakfast together, anticipating the other’s movements with ease and silently enjoying each other’s company. It’s homey, and peaceful, and surely it’ll be the last moment of peace they have together before all hell breaks loose at 8 p.m., once they arrive to the Starzy Ball and Kiara has to put up her cutthroat business woman facade while Kyne clings from her arm, until they inevitably have to meet Kiara’s parents - she’s been, simultaneously, dreading this day and anticipating it with excitement bubbling up in her stomach.

Maybe it’s just the spending time with Kyne part that she doesn’t mind at all, the part where they gossip and snicker about the rest of the people at the ball while they eat various fancy snacks - the part where fancy balls are tolerable for once, not because they’re more bearable, but because she has Kyne to make them better.

Once they’re done with breakfast, having cleaned the mugs and last night’s dirty dishes while they listened to one of Kiara’s random playlists, Kyne asks her if she wants to join her in with her skincare routine, though really, it’s just a facemask she bought per one of her friends’ recommendation and she has used ever since. Kiara accepts happily, but in hindsight, she probably shouldn’t have; Kyne delicately but firmly takes her face in one of her hands, and with the other, she applies the creamy mask with an old brush.

They’re sitting in Kyne’s living room, and their faces aren’t even that close, but Kiara feels as if there’s not enough air in the room, as her heart plummets against her ears and all she can do is try to keep her cool as Kyne gently traces the pattern of her face.

Yet Kiara can’t quite put two and two together, though.

She leaves Kyne’s apartment two hours after, with a dress that fits her like a glove and a weird feeling that’s settled in her chest. Kyne tried to persuade her to stay for lunch, since it was almost time for it anyway, but she’s spent too much time at her place already, and she doesn’t want to bother her anymore.

Despite Kyne saying that she likes her company, Kiara can’t help but feel weirdly uneased, especially when she spots Kyne stealing glances at her out of the corner of her eye, with an indecipherable look. 

She can only hope things go smoothly tonight.

***

The hours pass too slowly for Kiara’s liking, and she finds herself wandering around her own apartment, bored out of her mind, more than once throughout the afternoon. 

She eats lunch alone, ordering takeout from a nearby restaurant and planting herself in front of her TV, flickering through Netflix’s catalogue, searching for something that can set her mind off Kyne, but most movies bore her even more if that’s possible, and the shows she usually re watches with a smile on her face aren’t cutting it either.

She texts Rita and Tynomi throughout the day, not mentioning at all what she’s feeling, because the last thing she needs now is those two on her case. Instead, she just fills them in on what happened in the last hours.

Tynomi says it wouldn’t surprise her if they end up dating for real, Rita agrees, and Kiara only sends them eye rolling emojis. 

Kiara is many things, but she’s not delusional enough to believe they’ll end up in a real relationship - she thought that once, way before Kyne appeared in her life, and things didn’t end up well. It doesn’t matter how well it looks like they get along, Kiara won’t take that risk again.

She rubs her eyelids, deciding that taking a shower and a nap wouldn’t hurt.

***

Before Kiara can even stop to realize what’s happening, to overthink everything one last time, she’s holding the door open for Kyne as she slides in the passenger seat, ready to head to the ball and meet her parents. Admittedly, focusing just on the road is simply too difficult for Kiara, who can’t help but to steal glances at Kyne every other second. 

She looks mesmerizing, even more than normal - her suits of every color of the rainbow, high ponytail and sharp eyeliner she always wears to the office are something Kiara’s become used to, but that doesn’t mean she’s any less radiant. Though this isn’t the first time she sees her wearing this dress, it sure is the first time she sees Kyne in a full face of makeup, with her hair down in soft waves and killer heels.

She’s stunning, and just looking at her knocks the air out of Kiara’s lungs. Kiara hopes and prays that helps for acting like a couple in love.

They make small talk while Kiara drives, soothing each other’s nerves with encouraging words disguised as playful banter, and though Kiara was scared for a second to give Kyne the aux cord, she forgets about it as soon as Donna Summer starts playing.

Kyne loudly sings the lyrics to Bad Girls, making Kiara laugh as loud as her, and it makes the drive go by in the blink of an eye - almost as if on cue, once the playlist ends, Kiara pulls up one block away from where the venue is, saying unprompted that’s because she knows it must be packed and it’d be a nightmare to get out of by the end of  the night. 

Her hands tremble as she turns off the engine, her nerves and self doubt suddenly kicking in. Would she be able to pull this off without making it too obvious it was false, thus embarrassing both of them? She feels Kyne give her shoulder a squeeze, interrupting her train of thought, looking at her with a feeling she can’t quite put a finger on.

“Listen, I’m as scared as you are, but I’m never going to have any other occasion to wear this dress, so.” She shrugs, leaving the sentence in the air, smiling slightly. “We better get walking, ‘cause I was promised food, and I’m getting hungry,” she jokes to lighten up the mood, and Kiara smiles back.

They walk in silence, and at some point Kyne intertwines their hands, giving Kiara’s hand a little squeeze. It’s a little gesture, but it makes her breath hitch in her throat, her heart beating faster and faster with every step they take.

Once they’re in the queue to enter, Kiara pulls out her phone from the pockets in her dress to shoot her parents a message, telling them that they’re waiting outside. She feels Kyne tug at her arm while her stare is glued to her phone, so she hums noncommittally.

“I thought this would be more… Fancy, y’know. I feel as if I’m on my senior prom all over again,” she mutters, close to her ear so she’s the only one that hears. Kiara involuntarily snorts, putting her phone away and turning to see Kyne, who’s shamelessly looking around the queue, judging everyone’s clothes.

“Not everyone can have great taste like you,” she playfully replies, earning a chuckle and an eye roll from her. 

Once they reach the front, Kiara pulls out their invitation envelopes and they’re quickly let in, and she can’t help but to smile when Kyne looks around the venue, taking everything in and squeezing her hand. She squeezes right back as she guides them through the sea of people, stopping every so often to greet people that she knows because of her parents. 

When Kiara finally spots her mother among the crowd, her stomach flips, stopping in her tracks to look back at Kyne, who looks as anxious as her, practically wanting to go anywhere but near Kiara’s parents - she can’t blame her, really; at the end of the day, they’re still her bosses.

“It’ll be alright,” Kiara manages to say, trying to convince herself more than anything. “They’re nice people, they’ll like you, like I do,” she assures her. Kyne cocks a brow, a cheeky smile blooming in her face as Kiara’s cheeks heat up when she realizes what she just said. “No, I mean— you know what I meant.”

Kyne giggles, swinging their hands. “Yeah, I know,” she replies simply, “Let’s go, I’m eager to get fired.” Her faux sweet delivery makes Kiara laugh, easing the nerves as they walk up to her parents. 

Her mother spots them before her dad, quickly making her way towards them with a huge smile on her face, stare fixated on Kyne and their intertwined hands. Sweat prickles the back on Kiara’s head, but it’s too late to back down or run away, so she just gulps and allows her to hug her tight before wrapping Kyne in another hug.

“Hi, darling! Kyne, right? I’m Rebecca, and it’s great to finally meet you!” She chirps excitedly, the smile never leaving her face. Kyne briefly glances at Kiara before returning the smile and the pleasantries. “Honey, let’s go find your dad, shall we? I know he’s dying to meet you too.” She motions at them to follow her and they follow suit, their hands finding each other again.

Though Kyne didn’t exactly know Kiara’s mom before, she sure as hell has seen Kiara’s dad around the company, but never actually met him. Once they find him, the squeeze she gives her almost makes Kiara yelp, but she reminds herself that she dragged them here, so really, she can’t complain.

“Papa, this is my girlfriend, Kyne,” Kiara says, her stomach flips again when she addresses Kyne as her girlfriend for the first time. She knows it’s fake, but she can’t help the fuzzy feeling that spreads in her chest.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Kyne greets with a smile, awkwardly sticking her hand out to shake. Kiara’s dad smiles gently, accepting the handshake.

“It’s good to meet you too, my daughter has told me lots of great things about you,” he says, and Kyne immediately turns to look at Kiara with a sneaky smile, probably wondering what she’s said about her.

It doesn’t take long before they’re asking Kyne about her job at the company, about herself, her family; Rebecca does most of the questioning, eager to know more about her supposed new daughter-in-law, while her husband just nods, talking every so often. 

So far, things are going well, and it seems like they’ll be able to pull this off successfully - they have the right amount of chemistry, and Kiara finds it easy to naturally place an arm around Kyne’s waist at some point during the night. Though Kyne jumps at the contact, she quickly relaxes into it, and Kiara figures that’s just her going along with it to not seem suspicious.

The only part that’s proving difficult is not getting bored out of her mind while talking to the other guests, most of which her parents know one way or another, and thus she’s forced to interact with them. Some look at her hand wrapped around Kyne’s waist with an eyebrow cocked, curiosity in their gaze as they bite their tongue to avoid asking a stupid question.

Some do ask questions, wonder if she’s Kiara’s girlfriend with faux politeness she’s all too familiar with, inquiring afterwards how they met. The looks on their faces always change when Kyne replies that she works for her company before Kiara can say anything, a fake smile plastered on her face as she watches how they probably wonder if she’s a golddigger.

“At least one of us is having fun,” Kiara says ironically, while they’re getting snacks from one of the tables near the walls. Kyne hums, her mouth full of appetizers.

“I mean, if you think about it, I’m never going to see these people again, so what’s the matter?” She shrugs, reaching for more appetizers. Though it’s technically true, that statement makes Kiara feel weirdly uneasy, but she pushes those feelings away.

Truth be told, the only reason the night is bearable is because Kyne runs her mouth a lot more than Kiara thought, with her deadpan humor that no one but Kiara seems to understand. She only gets chattier and chattier as she drowns glass after glass of champagne, saying she’s drinking in Kiara’s name since she can’t drink tonight.

At some point, Kiara’s arm finds her way around Kyne’s waist again, when she comments that she’s starting to feel a little lightheaded. It was almost instant, and this time around, Kyne didn’t even flinch at the contact. Kiara, again, thought nothing of it.

Aside from meeting Anastarzia and her kooky, weird secretary that wore a suit with mismatched colors - Jimbo, if they heard correctly - nothing really exciting happened. Sure, the food and the drinks were nice, and Kyne was having the time of her life sending photos after photos to her friends’ group chat with a shit-eating grin. She takes a lot of dorky selfies with unflattering angles, usually pulling Kiara into the frame, and it takes a lot of her willpower to not laugh loudly at Kyne’s faces.

More than a couple hours have probably passed, though they’re nowhere near the end of the event, when Kiara feels Kyne tug at her arm while they’re pretending to be interested in a conversation they were dragged into.

“I don’t know how to tell you this nicely,” Kyne begins, settling her chin on Kiara’s shoulder, speaking softly enough so only she can hear. “But I’m bored out of my mind,” her faux sweet delivery, along with the flutter of her eyelashes, makes Kiara chuckle. 

“Well, what do you want me to do?” She asks softly, as Kyne looks up at her with a blank expression.

“Let’s go to McDonalds, I’m hungry,” she suggests, her expression lightning up almost immediately. Kiara laughs wholeheartedly this time - she spent the whole night devouring those appetizers! Almost as if she can read her mind, she continues, “Listen, it’s not my fault those appetizers can’t satisfy me. Rich people's food is lame, and I know you’re hungry too,” Kyne states, matter-of-factly.

Well, she can’t really argue with that - she does feel a little hungry, despite all the snacks she ate. And, if she’s being honest, she appreciates the excuse to leave, so she finds her parents to quickly bid them goodbye, saying Kyne has a headache and wants to leave. Her mother makes Kiara promise she’ll bring Kyne to the family dinners soon, and he echoes the sentiment. She forces a smile and falsely promises she will, turning around as Kyne tells them again it was really nice to meet them.

“I think they liked me,” she comments, latching onto Kiara’s arm to not stumble with her own feet. “Who would’ve thought Antoine Schatzi would even know my name!” She giggles, resting her head against Kiara’s shoulder again. And Kiara knows she’s more than tipsy, that this is all pretend, but the warm feeling that spreads through her chest at the contact is everything but fake.

***

Though it’s fairly late, there’s still people inside the nearest McDonald's Kiara could find on Google Maps, so they resolve to just order through the drive through - even if she had no problem eating in a fancy gown and a full-face of makeup, the decision was more due to Kyne’s inability to walk straight. Crowded places weren’t exactly good if she wanted to keep Kyne from falling flat on her face.

Even though Kyne was the one that suggested they go to McDonald’s, her brain short-circuited for a moment while ordering, asking a tad too loud if she could have one of those paper crowns with her order, before remembering that’s a Burger King thing. Kiara just ordered a cheeseburger and a Big Mac through hiccups of laughter and dead silence on the employee’s end.

“Did you really drink that much?” Kiara inquires as they’re waiting for their order. Kyne rolls her eyes, pinching her on the arm.

“That’s none of your business,” she replies, childishly sticking her tongue out as Kiara looks at her in amusement.

Just a week ago she would’ve never imagined she’d get to see this side of Kyne, satisfied with their short encounters during office hours and polite enough friendship, but now, she wants this Kyne as a friend too - the messy drinker, quick-witted, caring Kyne that makes her laugh with every other word she says.

They’re sitting on the hood of Kiara’s car, eating their hamburgers and stealing each other’s fries as they talk about anything and everything - mostly about Kyne’s impressions of everyone she had met at the ball, not holding back on her opinions now that they were alone.

As she’s mimicking the voice of one of the women they met, Kiara notices a stain of what looks like mayonnaise in the corner of Kyne’s mouth, so she takes a napkin and brings her hand to her face to clean it up, making Kyne stop in the middle of a sentence. Kiara instructs her to be still and she complies, her gaze never leaving Kiara, even when she withdraws her hand, tossing the napkin into the food bag.

There’s a moment of silence, though not an uncomfortable one, before Kyne speaks again.

“Y’know, if I forget to tell you when you drop me home, I really like spending time with you. I enjoyed being your fake girlfriend,” she says earnestly, and the softness of her voice and tone makes Kiara’s heart race.

“I really liked having you as my fake girlfriend,” she echoes, though she doesn’t actually mean it - not because she didn’t enjoy the night, or because she regrets asking this to Kyne, not at all. She doesn’t regret anything.

It’s just that, as she stares at Kyne, listening to her chaotic train of thought while she tries to steal her fries, it hits her that she likes her. Actually likes her. Has probably liked her since the moment they met, when she made her giggle within minutes of meeting each other, when she let her hide in her office without much of an explanation, when she listened to her problems and offered solutions in her own Kyne way - she’s not sure when it started, but now that she knows it, the whole fake dating arrangement doesn't sit well with her.

[morsquiesa]

five times touched for anastasia 😛

send me ‘five times touched’ for a drabble about five times my muse touched yours. 

i. “ You will get yourself killed, one of these days. ” 

Pieces of the cotton bandage scattered around the bathroom vanity, a bottle of alcohol settled next to the scissors, thin yarn and the curved needle all taken from the pharmacy two blocks down in a hurry. Dim yellow light that illuminates the small bathroom flicker, and Bianca doesn’t know if it has anything to do with Anastasia’s clenched jaw and displeased look in her eyes, hand clutching her bicep, but the blood seeps through her thin fingers. Unusually silent, but considering the situation they are in, she can hardly blame the young woman for it. She’s here for help, not for judgement, so she abandons her questions and the desperate need to reproach from a place of care, and picks up a piece of cotton, soaked in alcohol. She turns to Anastasia, but the daughter of Zeus doesn’t seem to intend on moving.

“ Let me see it,” Bianca asks, calm and steady with a tone of well-intended exhaustion to make her relent, but Anastasia sits as still as she could, gaze carefully settled on Bianca, watching her with the weight of something Bianca can’t place.

“ ‘Tasia.” She speaks slower, softer, and reaches out, her fingers remaining just an inch away from hers, gaze locked. “ Let it go, it’s gonna get infected.” 

It takes a few seconds, but her death grip eases, and Bianca replaces it with a gentler touch of hers, palm sliding beneath the bony elbow and tilting her arm to take a better look at the cut. It’s not a clean one, which makes Bianca grimace, letting the dark hair cover her expression. “ How bad is it?” Is the first thing Anastasia asks, teeth gritted through the pain she is trying to confine, and it is alone for Bianca to turn her hold into a reassuring one, thumb gently rubbing the inside of her forearm. “ Not so bad,” She hums in return, thoughtful as she studies it briefly to come up with a clearer answer. “ It needs to be cleaned up, then stitched and covered.You’ll be good after some rest and nectar.” 

 Anastasia considers, then nods slowly, which prompts Bianca to slowly start working. She proceeds to clean the wound and stitch, neither of them speak in the silence of the night except for muttered apologies with each painful gasp. 

ii. “ Do you call that an attack? How did you even survive for this long?”

“ Gods, shut up.”

Bianca gasps for air, breathless as she tumbles down to the scorching sand of the deserted arena with the foot Anastasia hooks right behind her ankle to pull, strong and combined with the swift push on her shoulders the fall becomes inevitable. She doesn’t know if the taunt she hears in Anastasia’s voice is real or if it is just an imagination of her damaged head ( with the amounts of hits she took) , but knowing the daughter of Zeus, the possibilities of being mocked is high. Especially after a defeat so easy, which paints Bianca’s face crimson with embarrassment, the effort of sparring on and off for a few hours now making it easy to dismiss, which she is thankful for.

“ Get up.” Anastasia pokes her with the tip of her blade, clearly not expecting the hard swing of Bianca’s leg, right on the pit of her knees. Anastasia joins her on the floor with a yelp, and a second later it is Bianca’s blade that rests on the hollow of her throat, one arm wrapped around her shoulders to avoid letting her turn around. “ Any better?” She asks, breathless, frustration clear in her voice after being slammed to the ground one too many that day, determined to cling to this small victory.

Maybe she’d get that satisfactory feeling, if Anastasia would’ve responded- responded in any way but the chuckle that is quick to turn into a laughter. For a second, Bianca stands there frozen, thinking if she’s missed something, if she’s made a fool of herself, but she cannot see any blank points she’s forgotten to fill when she looks back in her moves. “ If I knew a dagger in your throat would make you laugh, I’d put it there sooner.”

“ Sorry, I can’t help it,” The woman’s amused apology is more frustrating than her laughter, which Bianca responds with a roll of her eyes. “ If I knew you had such swift moves, I’d go harder on you.” Anastasia continues with selling Bianca’s words back to her, and the blade lowers with the hand that wraps around her wrist, pushing it away with no effort. “ Well done, Bianca. Let me go.” She hums nonchalantly, and Bianca doesn’t know why she lets her, and it occurs to her that she did after Anastasia steps away freely. “ Well, that was fun,” the daughter of Zeus fixes her shirt, still just as careless. “ Do you want to go another round? You need to win like nineteen times if you want to settle the debt, you gotta’ start somewhere.”

Bianca shifts her stance with exhaustion. “ You’re so hard to like sometimes.”

Anastasia smiles.

iii. “ Where have you been?”

“ Relax, I got busy-” 

“ No, where the fuck have you been?” It is rare Bianca talks to her this way, voice heavy with an anger she finds hard to contain, bright eyes burning with even brighter flames. The silence stretches between them as Anastasia probably tries to see the reason behind this unexpected greeting. “ You’ve been gone for two months,” Bianca continues, hand rubbing her face as an attempt to relieve some of the tension. “ Two months, no calls, no texts, no news, no nothing. Do you enjoy leaving me in the dark like this? Leaving me wondering if you’re okay nor not? ” 

Anastasia’s gaze softens in contrast to Bianca’s bottled up rage, and she leaves her coat in the entrance as she walks inside. “ The job in Mediterranean went south, some kids of Hermes hijacked the ship, all communication went down to the bottom of the ocean.” She sits in the arm of the couch as she carefully watches Bianca, calmly explaining the situation. “ We had no contact with anyone, we got to the land two days ago, got into the first plane we could find.” She opens her hands to the sides, a gesture Bianca thinks meant to soothe her. “ I came here straight from the airport.” 

Bianca doesn’t know if it is the straw fire of her anger that makes it easy to soothe, or if it is seeing Anastasia well after months of wondering if she had been okay, but Bianca’s shoulders eases, and she breathes shakily, burying her face in her hands and focusing on her breathing to slow down her heart. “ Okay,” She mutters, mostly to herself. “ Okay, yeah. I just...” 

 Anastasia doesn’t get up from where she is, but she doesn’t close her arms either, instead making a small gesture with a tilt of her head. “ Come here.” 

 Bianca doesn’t have the time or the patience to hesitate, so she closes the distance between them in a few wide steps, and next thing she knows her arms are thrown around Anastasia’s neck, forehead rested on her shoulder. The pair of arms that goes around her to pull her closer almost makes her fingers curl around the soft fabric of baby blue shirt. They don’t speak for a while, and Bianca lets her eyes close, Anastasia’s hands pressing to her back. “ Were you worried?” She asks eventually, and Bianca answers with a nod, mostly without thinking. “ That’s so embarrassing,” Anastasia mumbles, and Bianca responds with hitting her in the shoulder, a relieved laugh escaping her. She doesn’t have to look at Anastasia to know she’s smiling, hearing it in her voice: “ What? It’s embarrassing.” 

“ Stop talking, I’m still angry.” Bianca replies with a barely audible mutter, and Anastasia takes her time. “ There’s nothing to worry about,” She says. “ I’m back, now.” There is not a promise of it not happening again, since they both know it might, but Bianca is willing to settle for this, so she does. She rests her head on Anastasia’s shoulder, and let’s the rest of the evening go unspoken. 

iv. “ Hey, I brought you some tea.”

Bianca pads into the living room with a cup of tea, deciding to finally get out of bed after a day spent beneath the covers in her room after her last shadow travel to San Francisco, needing the sleep. Anastasia didn’t say anything when she returned, only getting her something to eat and tell her to get some rest, so they haven’t gotten a chance to speak yet, especially between Anastasia’s busy work and Bianca’s on and off drifting. But as the clock hits midnight, she’s had enough rest to get up and function, and was hoping that Anastasia would be finished with a big part of her work as she usually did by now, so she thought a cup of tea would give them some time to chat.But she realizes it is too late for that day, since Anastasia is passed out curled against the arm of the couch, disorganized paper in on the coffee table and open pens clearing stating that it hadn’t been a voluntary sleep. 

Bianca thinks if she should wake her up for a moment, then upon realizing how tired of a day she must’ve had to fall asleep like this, she decides against it. She grabs the thin covers from the armchair, and brings a pillow from her bedroom to set up the couch. “ Tasia,” She calls with a whisper in the meantime she touches the Anastasia’s shoulder, but there is no reply. Bianca sighs quietly, then carefully places an arm beneath the woman to shift her, making her lay down comfortably instead of spending the rest of the night in a half sitting position, an invitation for a never ending backache. She waits for a moment to see if Anastasia will wake up, but she doesn’t, mumbling something in her sleep as she turns to her other side instead, and Bianca slowly drapes the blanket over her. She stays there for a second, to see if there is anything else she needs to do, and eventually leaves the cup on the table, then closes the lights and gets back to her bedroom for the rest of the night. 

v. “ You’re looking at me like you don’t know me.”

Bianca doesn’t even know what prompted her to say it, especially in the midst of a such heated moment, with so many hurtful things said in ways that will never be forgotten. She can feel them on her skin, the familiar sting and burn of a thousand paper cuts, knowing exactly where they hurt but unable to show it, with no blood and no visible wound. She isn’t sure if it would make any difference to Anastasia, who has a look so cold in her eyes that makes Bianca question her very own existence, questioning if she was here at all, if the memories still vivid in the back of her head are a cruel diversions of her mind or if this is all Anastasia’s refusal to acknowledge them. Nevertheless, it hurts.

“ I don’t,” The reply burns, but Bianca shakes her head, glancing away with a bitter smile that curls the corners of her lips, vision blurring only for a moment with a sharp exhale. “ No, you’re wrong, you do. I know you do, stop lying to yourself. Pushing me away won’t make you forget me.” She turns back, and the defeat that darkens her visage with somberness is enough to make Anastasia stop for a moment, and even that moment gives Bianca a spark of hope. “ Why are you doing this?” She whispers, continuing with how confused and hurt she is, as she takes a few steps closer. “ I thought- I thought everything was fine,” Her voice cracks, and she gets it back under control with a heavy sigh that shudders in her chest. “ I don’t know where this is coming from. ” Anastasia doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at her either, gaze locked away out of the window, and Bianca finally reaches out, fingertips brushing against her knuckles as an attempt to both get her attention and soothe her. “ Tell me what’s wrong.”

“ Get out,” Is not the answer Bianca expects, but it is the one she gets alongside a few steps away from her. “ Get out, leave me alone.”

I’m not gonna cry, Bianca promises herself, and purses her lips together into a thin line to avoid letting it show in her expression. “ Didn’t you hear me? Get out! ” Anastasia repeats herself, louder this time, and Bianca knows there isn’t anything left for her to do. She turns around, grabs her jacket from the chair, and doesn’t spare another glance at the daughter of Zeus as she walks right into the shadows and let them embrace her. It is the the last time they see each other.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Hurt, pt. 12 (E.D.)

Summary: Ethan’s therapy session is filled with memories of his progress with Y/N as time goes by, unaware of the trouble looming on the horizon.

Warnings: ANGST, fluff, talk of depression and anxiety, mentions of sex

Word Count: 2900

A/N - We’re getting closer to the end guysss! I’m not sure how many parts there will be yet, but I know the story is ending soon, so be ready for anything.

Hurt - Masterlist

“How does it feel being back home?” Ethan’s therapist questioned, her hands folded in her lap as she observed him like she could tell everything that goes through his mind just by one careful look.

“It’s been…It’s been an adjustment.” Ethan fidgeted, his fingers spinning an invisible ring – the place his wedding band used to belong in. If it were up to him, he’d wear it again, but he didn’t want to put pressure on Y/N or make her uncomfortable.

But he didn’t lie. It’s been an adjustment.

Sleeping alone in the house he shared with Y/N proved to be a difficult feat. First of all, Ethan couldn’t bear to be in the bed where he used to make love to her. Hell, he couldn’t even look at the damn bed anymore. So, he stayed in the guest room. Second of all, the problem with their guest room is that the window looked out to the guest room in Grayson’s house and that meant every move made in the room had captured Ethan’s attention.

It was torture to be so close yet have no right to touch her or hold her or even tell her he loved her. He never knew there was something so cruel in this world as distance - not in the actual sense, but emotional distance.

However, by the time morning rolled in, Ethan was ready to eat. Breakfast was usually Grayson’s specialty and so, without thinking twice about it, Ethan set off to his brother’s house to eat.

The moment he crossed over the bridge, Ethan’s heart dropped. Quickly, he hid behind the closest tree, looking at his beautiful wife get into someone else’s car. He couldn’t tell who it is, but he noticed a man behind the wheel.

Watching her drive off in a car he didn’t recognize, Ethan felt his chest shake before it spread to his arms and legs. Grayson told him she might be moving on, but he didn’t know it was happening so fast.

But what could he do? He had done the same thing if not worse. Saying anything on the subject would only push her away and he needed her close…he needed her to stay. Ethan knew he couldn’t be a hypocrite and call her out when he was the reason why all this happened in the first place.

No…Ethan knew he had to be smarter than that. He would have to play this game of chess with strategy and patience, not brute force.

“So, uh…I just saw Y/N leave with some guy.” Ethan decided to strike up a conversation with Clara, knowing she’s the only one who has a reliable source of information. Y/N would have told her if there was something to tell.

“She’s going out for breakfast, to schedule her ultrasound and she’ll be back soon.” Clara wasn’t trying to hide anything, but she didn’t want to betray Y/N in case she wanted to keep her and Edward’s relationship a secret.

Ethan saw right through her though. Instead of making a fuss, he just placed his hand over Clara’s.

“Clara, please.” The desperate plea had toyed with Clara’s heartstrings. She had always loved how perfect Ethan and Y/N were together. Their relationship was like a million piece puzzle - rare and beautiful. Some pieces didn’t fit at first, but they found a way to bridge those differences and Clara already saw them as the happy, grey couple their grandchildren would boo about whenever they kissed, shamelessly in love fifty years later.

“Fineee. She’s seeing someone and it’s nothing serious, but I think the guy is really into her. It’s more of a friendship with mutual feeling involved that aren’t developing on her behalf because she doesn’t want relationships.”

“How does that make you feel?” Ethan nearly rolled his eyes at the question, annoyed with just how open she’s asking him to be. It’s one of those things he’d rather lock in a small box and push it as far back in his mind as possible, but then he remembers…that’s exactly how he got to this point.

“Like I want to cry.” Ethan chuckled, rubbing his palms together forcefully tight, aware his therapist easily picks up on these tells and he was oozing anxiety.

“It’s not a pleasant feeling to know that I’m sharing her with someone. It’s not pleasant knowing she’s not mine to share at all. That I’m a footnote of her life and not a priority anymore.” Sighing, Ethan bit his upper lip, dragging his teeth across the soft, plump flesh with such anguish that any fool could see how hurt he is.

“I suppose I deserve it, though. I did the same to her. This is just a taste of my own bitter medicine.” Chuckling, he shook his head.

“You feel like you deserved this? Ethan, we’ve talked about this. Depression is an illness. You didn’t ask for it to happen to you. You certainly didn’t want to burn your life to the ground, but you were barely in control.” But Ethan snorted, letting out a heavy breath.

“Yeah. I know. And most times I can differentiate what thoughts are mine and what stems from depression…but I don’t understand how I kept it at bay for so long. When Y/N was with me, I was…managing. But a horrible, dark part of me wanted to rid of her. And I did.” Ethan rubbed his chin, his hand sliding down his neck, the veins in his arms prominent from constant anxiety-filled muscle tension.

“You told me you felt best in the morning and evening.” She reminded, smiling softly. “You also said it’s when you two would be intimate which is quite impressive for a couple. It explains a lot – from how close you two used to be and it explains those moments of clarity too.” Leaning forward, she rests her elbows just above her knees, her kind smile never relenting. “Sex leads to orgasms and orgasms cause a massive release of happy hormones – endorphins, serotonin, and oxytocin. Those hormones allowed you those moments of control and clarity. When she left, you had lost them and you tried to recreate them with Bianca but that failed. That’s why you spiraled so fast.” Ethan couldn’t believe this. But it made sense. Y/N had given him a high and he felt like himself when they were making love, when she was wrapped around him and he didn’t know where he begins or ends because all his senses were aware of only her existence. But after highs come the lows and he’d get lost in the darkness consuming his mind.

“You’re telling me Y/N was my shield against darkness?” He spoke quickly, a little bit of attitude and disbelief in his words. He couldn’t believe that all the times his mind tricked him into thinking Y/N might be the reason why he’s miserable were all lies, that it was a way to chase away the one good thing that kept him afloat. And he had ruined it. He succumbed to the evil voices inside his head.

“Precisely. Which is why it’s so hard to see her be that shield for someone else now. But you need to learn to be your own anchor Ethan. She can’t be your light, even if she does forgive you.”

“Yeah. But I can’t help but feel giddy whenever she grants me some mercy and does something nice for me.”

“Hey.” Y/N made sure she had a genuine smile as she spoke to Ethan, especially because the reason why she wanted to talk to him was a joyous one.

“Hey there! You’re glowing!” Ethan exclaimed, and not just because the sun was shining literally right above her head. She had truly never been as beautiful as she is now and he may be partial considering she’s carrying his babies, but he’s also learning to value true beauty in the world all over again and she was by far the most enchanting.

“Oh Gosh, stop that. I’m already showing as if I’m a month ahead than I really am. I’m only halfway there and it feels too much.” She complained, her forehead wrinkling in worry, self-consciousness. It’s definitely something he used to help her with. Ethan would kiss the wrinkles away until a smile replaced her scowl, then he’d tell her just how stunning she is and how he’s the luckiest man in the world.

But he couldn’t do that now.

“You’ve never been more beautiful.” That didn’t mean he couldn’t compliment her and watch a deep pink tint appear on her cheeks as she looked away shyly, smiling softly at his words.

“I wanted to thank you for being so hands-on lately.” She changed the topic, not wanting things to get awkward. Thing between them have been running smoothly and she was happy to know she could count on him.

Every chore she needed to be done, he’d accompany her. If it was grocery shopping, he’d be the one rushing around the store with the full cart, reaching all the high shelves because he refused to risk her and the babies. It was a nice reminder of their routine from before, except they used to race in the carts before and considering Y/N’s state, that was out of the question.

Every craving she had, Ethan made sure it was satisfied. He’d be sneaking into Grayson’s house at all times, delivering things she texted him about.

And they do text. All the time. Mostly at night. It helps them both – Ethan to feel less lonely, Y/N to fall asleep easier. While she does wake up frequently to pee, so does Ethan. It feels like they barely sleep, but it’s allowed them to rebuild. Nothing better than eating together at 2 am to bond.

“You know I’d do anything, right? Anything you need, baby-related or not.” Ethan adds for good measure because he needed her to know she could count on him. He never even mentioned any of the times he had noticed her slip away in the same strange car. But he didn’t want her to depend on someone who she had just recently met. No matter how bad things get, Ethan would still go the distance for her.

“I know.” She stepped closer hesitantly, standing in such proximity that Ethan could see that small freckle inside her eye, the one she never noticed until he did. God, he loved that freckle so much.

“So, I was thinking…If you’d like…You could accompany me to the ultrasound?”

“It’s the first time I got to see them. I cried like a baby and it was humiliating but so worth it.” Ethan smiles softly at the fond memory, his eyes trained on a small crack in the wooden floor.

“And she’s been pretty comfortable with me touching her belly after that which makes me just as happy. It’s especially important because I was with her for the first kick.”

Leaned up beside her belly, Ethan continued to talk to it. He always used the smallest, gentlest voice to coo at his babies because he claimed anything louder might scare them. It made Y/N laugh endlessly, rewarding him with that sweet sound on top of everything. He was never quite as sure why she was giving him this because it was more than he thought he deserved. But he was grateful for it. Endlessly grateful.

“OH MY GOD!” Y/N jumped at the weird sensation, instinctively grabbing Ethan’s hand to place his palm against her stomach only for his previously confused look to turn gleeful when he got a small kick for his effort.

“LITTLE ASSKICKERS LOVE ME!”

“We both cried then. Cried and laughed at each other as we sat on the porch swing with her half draped over my lap and my hands all over her pregnant belly and I can’t remember the last time I was so blissfully happy.” Ethan lifted his gaze to his therapist, feeling she’s got her eyes on him.

“It’s good that you’re getting closer, but I have to ask. Have you been drinking since you’ve been out?” Her questioned had weighed on him. He had started drinking to numb his pain before he had lost Y/N, but it was a few times a month really. He didn’t want to scare his wife at the time. But when she left, Ethan began drinking in hopes of feeling something because he had numbed himself into submission by then. Submission to a cruel mistress – depression.

“No.” Ethan was proud to say that and have it be true. While he did feel the itch to do it, he knew it would be stupid, especially with the medication he’s on. He didn’t want to risk the progress he’s made with Y/N either. It wouldn’t do him any good.

“And have you actually tried to talk through things with Y/N?”

“We’re getting there. She’s six months pregnant now. I’m working on her time, not my own. I can’t be so selfish and ask her to talk to me all the time.” Shrugging, Ethan did have something to share though.

“But we did agree on a Katniss – Peeta thing.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, his therapist seemed to be dumbfounded by his reference. “Katniss – Peeta thing?”

“Where do we even begin?” Y/N’s voice is small and laced with insecurities and Ethan hated when she’d get that way, especially if he was why she got that way.

“Remember when Peeta had his mind messed within the Capitol and he and Katniss decided to fact check his thoughts and memories by stating something and she’d tell him if it’s real or not?” Ethan spoke fast, excited to present this idea that stemmed from a long weekend of watching movies and having sex on the couch between each part – sometimes more than once. They used to be so insatiable, so needy for each other.

“Yeah.” She spoke a little too slowly, a little unsure where Ethan was going with this.

“We could do a similar thing. No question is off the table and we get to ask each other something based on what we’ve been thinking and how correct that thinking is. It would avoid any future misunderstandings for sure.” Ethan could tell when it clicked for her, noticing her eyes widen a little and her lips curl into a small smile.

“So…If I were to ask something as scandalous as…You didn’t run into me by accident that day on the beach when we first met, you’d say?” She rose her left eyebrow in question, her lips pursed in a sassy-looking pout, knowing she had gotten him in a checkmate position.

“True.” As soon as he admitted to it, Y/N broke into a giggle fit, managing to squeeze in an accusatory “I KNEW IT” in the process. Ethan laughed as well, more because he had been denying that for years and she had finally found out the embarrassing truth.

“Yeah, but I saw you and you looked like a goddess. Grayson told me not to even bother but when he sent a ball a little too far I decided to ‘run’ into you. I never meant to put you in the hospital that day, I’m so sorry!” Ethan apologized again as if he hadn’t apologized a thousand times that day when he managed to dislocate her shoulder. He tried to do it the safest way possible too! He had wrapped his arms around her waist and threw himself onto the sand first and her on top of him. How could he know she’d wrap one of her arms a little too far around him and that it would pop her shoulder out like a Barbie doll in the process.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m glad you did it. Everything…the good and the bad…it’s gotten us here. We’re laughing about it all.”

“As long as it works and you two are honest about everything, I’m fine with that.” Standing up, she ended the session, allowing Ethan to leave.

It’s been a long time since he felt good about a therapy session, but he truly felt like he came a long way from where he was that nothing mattered anymore. It’s not always rainbows and butterflies, but he felt his heart is full and his door was always open for Y/N to come if she wanted to be home. To his utmost pleasure, she used the door more often than he expected.

Getting in front of the elevator, Ethan’s phone vibrated. Fishing it out of his pocket, he smiled when he saw Y/N’s face light up his screen. He missed her already and he was always happy to hear her voice.

However, his smile was erased once he picked up the call.

“Hey! I was just –“, he didn’t get to even tell her that he was thinking of her as her panicked voice interrupted him. His heart dropped with her words, his insides twisting.

“I ne-need you. Ethan, it’s bad. Th-there’s b-blo-blood and no one, no one’s home.”

Tags: @melodiesforari​​​​​​​ @brittttneyyyy​​​​​​​ @beautorigin​​​​​​​  @dolandolll​​​​​​​ @xalayx​​​​​​​ @godlydolans​​​​​​​ @heyits-claire​​​​​​ @peacedolantwins​​​​​​ @dolanstwintuesday​​​​​​ @accalialionheart​​​​​​ @ethanhes​​​​​​ @lanadeldolans​​​​​​ @ebbach-03​​​​​​ @dolangels​​​​​​  @xxaamzxx​​​​​​ @cutestdolans​​​​​​ @yaren-ates​​​​​​ @dolansmith​​​​​​ @vintagebitttch​​​​​​ @primadolangirl​​​​​​ @caqsicle​​​​​​ @jjustjoy​​​​​​ @justordinaryjen​​​​​​ @graydolan12​​​​​​ @imaginashawnns​​​​​​ @graysonslovie​​​​​​ @fandomsfeministsandothershit​​​​​​ @bdsmdolan​​​​​​ @graysavant​​​​​​ @ethanspillow​​​​​​ @dopedoodes​​​​​​ @anything-dolan​​​​​​  @sugarfootdolan​​​​​​ @joyrivh​​​​​​ @reblogserpent​​​​​​ @jonesana​​​​​​ @emiemille  @herewegoagainandagainandagain​​​​​​​ @adventureswithmell

[bobasheebaby]

Sheldon Cooper Prompts

1 “I don't like bugs, okay. They freak me out.” “Interesting. You're afraid of insects and women. Ladybugs must render you catatonic.”

2 “Why are you crying?” “Because I'm stupid.” “That's no reason to cry. One cries because one is sad. For example, I cry because others are stupid, and that makes me sad.”

3 “I did a bad thing.” “Does it affect me?” “No.” “Then suffer in silence.”

4 “Then it's settled. NAME’s birthday present will be my genitals.”

5 “May I say something?” “Not right now, NAME.” “But I think it may be comforting.” “Buddy —“ “No, it's okay. What?” “When I lost my own father/mother, I didn't have any friends to help me through it. You do.”

6 “On the contrary I find the Grinch to be a relatable and engaging character. And I was really with him, right up to the point that he succumbed to social convention, returned the presents and saved Christmas.”

7 “I'm exceedingly smart. I graduated college at fourteen. While my brother/sister was getting an STD, I was getting a Ph.D. Penicillin can't take this away.”

8 “There's no denying that I have feelings for you that can't be explained in any other way. I briefly considered that I had a brain parasite, but that seems even more far-fetched. The only conclusion was love.”

9 “(3 knocks) “NAME!” (3 knocks) “NAME!” (3 knocks) “NAME!” “What happens if I say come in?” “Well, find out.” “Come in!” (silence) (3 knocks) “NAME 2!” (3 knocks) “NAME 2!” (3 knocks) “NAME 2!” “Come in!” “Keep it up. I've got nowhere else to be.” “Just come in.” “For future reference, if I want to watch Mean Girls, I'll just stream it on Netflix.”

10 “I'd like to go over some proposed changes to the roommate agreement, specifically to address NAME’s annoying personal habits.” “Oh my God! What personal habits?” “I have a list. FYI overuse of the phrase "Oh my God" is number 12.”

11 “Oh, big deal. Not knowing is part of the fun.” “‘Not knowing is part of the fun.’ Was that the motto of your community college?”

12 “Thankfully all the things my boyfriend/girlfriend used to do can be taken care of with my right hand.”

13 “Can I respond now?” “Do it.” “You mess with the bull, you get the horns. I'm about to show this guy just how horny I can be.” “Somebody else do it.”

14 “Well, he/she did soften your life, didn't he/she?” “Yes! He’s/She's like the dryer sheets of my heart!”

15 “Oh, I should probably tell you something about this gift.” “You mean, before you give it to me?” “Yes. But may I ask you a question before I give it to you?” “Of course.” “Why are we saying give it to you like that?”

16 “I'm not being weird. Am I being weird?” “Yes. And that's coming from me.”

17 “I thought you didn't like Facebook any more.” “Don't be silly, I'm a fan of anything that tries to replace actual human contact.”

18 “I would have been here sooner but the bus kept stopping for other people to get on it.”

19 “This is NAME. He's/she’s your best friend in the world.” “All right, just stop. This is ridiculous.” “Sometimes he/she gets cranky, but you can trust him/her with your life. And he/she does more things for you than I can even begin to list.” “Thank you.”

20 “This is why I've been saying we should keep champagne on ice.” “Sarcasm?” “Yes.” “That was tricky because when it comes to alcohol, he/she generally means business.”

21 “Oh gravity, thou art a heartless bitch.”

22 “I give up. He's impossible.” “I can't be impossible; I exist. I think what you meant to say is, 'I give up; he's improbable'.”

23 “Relax, it's just a dirty sock.” “How on earth can you say ‘dirty sock’ and ‘relax’ in the same sentence?”

24 “NAME , you know me to be a very smart man/woman. Don't you think that if I were wrong, I'd know it?”

25 “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” “Well, today we tried masturbating for money.”

26 “No cuts, no buts, no coconuts.”

27 “When we watch Frosty the Snowman, he/she roots for the sun.” “Excuse me, but the sun is essential for all life on earth. Frosty is merely a bit of frozen, supernatural ephemera in a stolen hat. A crime, by the way, for which he is never brought to account.”

28 “Do you think we can outrun him/her?” “I don't need to outrun him/her, I just need to outrun you.”

29 “Ah, memory impairment; the free prize at the bottom of every vodka bottle.”

30 “What the hell's going on?” “You hypocrite.” “What?” “Little Miss Grown-Ups-Don't-Play-With-Toys! If I went into that apartment right now, would I not find Beanie Babies? Are you not an accumulator of Care Bears and My Little Ponies? And who is that Japanese feline I see frolicking on your shorts? Hello, Hello Kitty!”

31 “You're inferring I'm stupid.” “That's not correct. We implied you're stupid, you then inferred it.”

32 “You got me something?” “Oh. Not just something. It's from the heart, it's holiday-themed, and I swallowed the gift receipt so you can not return it.”

33 “You can't make a half sandwich. If it's not half of a whole sandwich, it's just a small sandwich.”

34 “I can't seem to get in touch with NAME. I tried e-mail, video chat, tweeting him/her, posting on his/her Facebook wall, texting him/her, nothing.” “Did you try calling him/her on the telephone?” “The telephone. You know, NAME, in your own simple way, you may be the wisest of us all.”

35 “How often does one see a beloved fictional character come to life?” “Every year at ComiCon. Every day at Disneyland. You can hire Snow White to come to your house. Of course they prefer if you have a kid.”

36 “Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty, Little Ball of Fur. Happy Kitty, Sleepy Kitty, Purr, Purr, Purr.”

37 “I'm the guy/girl.” “You're not the guy/girl.” “Are you sure? It would explain so much. Your constant presence in my apartment. That baffling dalliance with NAME just to be near me. The way you call me sweetie all the time.” “I call everyone sweetie.” “You tramp.”

38 “Do you want to say it?” “Let's say it together.” Both: “We're getting a turtle!”

39 “I've seen and talked to you more in the two days we've been broken up than in the last two months we were together.” “Well, if you want to see less of me, maybe we should go out again.”

40 “Are they making fun of us?” “Yep.” “I miss the old days when I couldn't tell.”

41 “Well, this is very pleasant.” “I'm glad you're enjoying yourself.” “And you said there would never be enough pasta for the three of us.”

42 “NAME, could I ask you a question?” “I would prefer that you not, but I wouldn't go so far as to forbid it.”

43 “If you don't mind, I'd like to stop listening to you and start talking.”

44 “There there, everything is going to be fine ... NAME’s here!”

45 “Are you listening to yourself?” “I always listen to myself. It's one of the great joys of my life.”

46 “You know what, go to Hell and set their thermostat.” “I don't have to go to Hell. At 73 degrees, I'm there already!”

47 “NAME, I excel at many things, but getting over you wasn't one of them. I think I need to just be your friend.”

48 “I have a two-part question.” “Go ahead.” “A: Are you kidding? And B: Seriously, are you freaking kidding me?” “A: I rarely kid, and B: when I do kid, you will know it by my use of the word ‘Bazinga’.” “So you're saying the two of you are going to be sleeping in the same bed?” “Yes. Bazinga.”

49 “Get back here, you stupid bird, so I can love you.”

50 “Acquiring a joint pet is a big step for us.” “It's true. It means we care so much about each other, there's enough left over for an eight-ounce reptile.”

[toeil]

summer is over, and so are we. [1] ↠ jung jaehyun

[pt.2] [pt.3]

➹ jaehyun x reader ➹ genre: angst, fluff ➹ word count: 2,104

➹ summary: He introduced you to a warm summer you thought you would never have to leave. Yet, here you are, in the middle of a ruthless winter which’s ending seems to be nowhere in sight. a/n: yall remember her? im bringing it back lol

It still hurts a little bit. When I walk into that café down the street and I’m sipping on bubble tea, but you’re not the one sitting across from me.

“I’ve only had the matcha milk tea. I haven’t tried anything else.” You stood in line with Jaehyun, studying the menu of the endless flavors as you two waited your turn to give your order.

“Only matcha milk tea? I usually stick with the fruity flavored ones. Like, the mango and the lychee ones are probably my favorite.” He explained to you while he observed the staff create the drink of the person in front of you two.

“Would I like them?”

He paused for a second and thought about it, “yeah, you would! I think you’d really enjoy the mango one, actually.

A chuckle escaped your lips and you looked up at him, a bright smile overtaking your face, “I’ll trust you then.”

You two had noticed that one of the tables outside was vacant, a very rare occurrence. Not wanting to miss this chance, you had rushed outside and claimed the table as yours. You moved your chair and now you were seated next to Jaehyun, a mango bubble tea in the both of your hands.

“Can I try yours?”

“...We have the exact same one?” Although you were a bit confused with Jaehyun’s request, you still pushed your drink towards him.

“Yeah, I know. But I told myself if we ever came here for a date, I’d take a sip of your bubble tea, to you know, share an indirect kiss.” He took ahold of your drink and swirled the straw around for a way to avoid eye contact with you. He felt embarrassed, you could tell by the way his cheeks had turned a light crimson color along with the way his ears seemed to burn up, too.

A small giggle escaped your mouth. How could he be so adorable? “Well...why settle for an indirect kiss when you can get a direct one?”

He let out a shy chuckle allowing you to notice his dimple prominently popping in on the side of the cheek that was currently turned to you. Oh, the self-control it took for you not to poke it with your finger.

He licked his lips unconsciously and faced you, “I can kiss you?” You replied with an ecstatic nod. Maybe a bit too ecstatic.

“Then…” You intently watched his every move. The way his right hand had hesitantly come up to your face, his fingers shakily settling under your chin. The way his other hand was still holding onto the drink that he had entirely forgotten about. The way he moved in closer and then took a pause, allowing his eyes to trace over your face to memorize everything about it. His eyes fluttered closed and shortly after, so did yours.

He kissed you, your lips molding together like the last two pieces of an incomplete puzzle. At that moment it was just you two, your senses completely flooding with his smell. It felt like no one else was around, that the past and future didn’t matter anymore. The kiss wasn’t fiery or full of need. It was slow, cautious, sweet, full of promise and didn’t fail to make you feel tingly all over. It was comforting in a way that words could never be. That was when you knew you loved him. From the first kiss you two shared. And maybe that was when he did too.

When I stumble into the park at night, but it’s not you and I sitting on the swings cooling off from the heat of the day.

It was dark out and here you were, sitting on the swings at the park. The usual bird song and the baying of dogs were replaced with the sound of crickets. The unusual rustle of leaves at a time like this would heighten your senses and alert your brain, convincing it some type of danger was approaching, but it’s been different nowadays. Coming here this late has become a routine for you and Jaehyun. It’s a spot to take a breather and spend time together without having to interact with the busy bustle of the day. So you’ve learned to tune out such thoughts. And besides, with Jaehyun by your side, nothing felt as scary as it used to.

Usually, you two felt relaxed in this environment but tonight, Jaehyun was feeling tense and that face didn’t go over your head.

Your feet were planted on the rubber mulch while you used them to slightly sway yourself back and forth on the swing. Jaehyun was on the swing next to you not moving as much as you mainly because he was too busy watching you. Your gaze was set on the floor so he must have assumed you didn’t notice his stare but, of course, you did.

“It feels really nice out.”

Jaehyun sighed and looked away, “yeah, it does. Thank god it gets cooler at night time.”

You hummed in response before turning your body towards him, “are you okay?” He looked back at you and nodded. He held his hand out to you, palm facing up, wanting to hold your hand. You gladly obliged and as soon as you set your hand in his, he enclosed his fingers around it tightly.

It was silent for another few minutes as Jaehyun stared at your hand in his. His eyebrows were furrowed which could only mean he was thinking about something deeply and you so badly wanted to know what was bothering him. He took in a deep breath and finally spoke up, “I think...I...I love you.”

“Oh...Is that a bad thing?”

He quickly shook his head, “of course not! It’s just...I’m worried your feelings aren’t as strong as mine and that maybe you’d get annoyed of it or something. I don’t know.”

“I don’t think I love you,” you watched as his expression completely dropped, “I know I love you.”

Jaehyun let out a gasp and used the hand he was holding to tug you up out of your swing to bring you closer to him. You stumbled up and laughed as he pulled you between his legs where you stood and snaked your arms around his neck. You looked down at him with a grin, your hair now covering the sides of your face and coming down to tickle him.

“y/n! You scared me!” He whined, his bottom lip coming out in a cute pout.

“It’s what you deserve for being so silly and thinking that I’d get annoyed of you!”

“So you love me, huh?” He jerked his brow up cockily, doing a complete 180 from his pouty behavior from earlier in a matter of just a few seconds.

“More than anything.”

“Good, because I do too.” And at that moment, it was undeniably true.

When I’m laying in my bed after a long day, but you’re not there with the sheer comfort that your arms always provide.

“Oh, you’re here?” You walked into your room encountering Jaehyun’s body sprawled across your bed on his back, his legs dangling off the edge.

He nodded, “It seemed like you were having a bad day so I decided to put the spare key you gave me to use.”

Your shoulders fell, no longer feeling like you had to put up a front. Jaehyun could figure you out like you were the back of his hand. “You could tell even over text?”

“Of course I could baby. Was it work?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna talk about it though, it’ll make me angry and upset all over again.” You sighed and combed your fingers through your hair as you moved across the room to set down your bag down on the dresser.

“Come here~” He opened his arms up without moving up from his position. You gladly complied and settled between his legs, your body falling on top of his. As soon as you fell down on him, his arms found their way around your waist and yours, in return, wrapping around him too. Your face nuzzled into his chest and you instantly were engulfed with his sweet smelling cologne tinged with the soft scent of the citrusy body wash he uses. The same smell that would stick to your bed sheets and provide you with comfort when he wasn’t with you.

“Ugh, I love your smell.” You mumbled into his chest.

He laughed and you could feel his chest vibrate with each breath, “why thank you! I work really hard to smell like this.” It was quiet after that. The only thing that could be heard was your breaths that were starting to sync up now and the sound of the tapping rain against your window that had started falling lightly just a few minutes ago.

“Oh! I did my nails yesterday and I regret it already. They’re so hard to work with.”

“Oh my gosh! Let me see!” Jaehyun started to lift his butt up off the bed to allow you to easily slip your hand out under him. Your heart warmed up with how genuinely excited he sounded. When you brought your hand out, he let go of your waist with one arm and grabbed ahold of your hand to get a better look. You watched him marvel at the fake nails that were glued to your real ones and you immediately began to beam. He always showed interest in every little thing about you and made it so difficult for you not to fall in love with him over and over again every single day.

“They’re so pretty,” he focused his gaze on you and brought his finger to boop you on the nose, “but not as pretty as you.”

You snorted, “you’re so cheesy.” Instead of letting you return your hand back under him, he continued to hold your hand against his body and shot you a grin, bearing his teeth and those dimples that you loved more than anything.

“Let go of my hand, I need to itch the inside of my nose.”

“No.” You whined out his name in response.

“Worry not, I’ll itch it for you!” Before you could protest he picked out your index finger with his own index finger and thumb and began approaching your nose with it. You tried to move your head away and the sudden movement caused him to end up shoving your finger way too far up your nostril. You jerked up off of him, your hands flying up to your nose where you could feel the pain begin to spread.

You groaned with your eyes shut tight and Jaehyun flew up off the bed after you, his eyes were wide and full of worry accompanied with regret. “OH MY GOD Y/N I’M SO SORRY! ARE YOU OKAY!? LET ME SEE! OH MY GOD, I’M SO SORRY!” He grabbed at your hands and removed them away from your nose. He peered into your nose to check if you were bleeding. His relieved sigh indicated you weren’t bleeding at least.

Jaehyun suddenly grabbed the sides of your head and you let out a yelp when he tugged you into his chest, squishing your face against it, “I’m so sorry!” He continuously repeated until you muffled out an “oh my god Jaehyun it’s okay!” against him

“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally let go of your head.

“Yes, I’m fine, babe! Come on, let’s go lay back down.” He nodded and crawled up onto the bed, you following suit with the blanket that was previously at the foot of your bed. You opened it up and loosely wrapped it around him and then yourself. This time his head rested against your chest, the feeling of it rising and falling was therapeutic to him. Your hand played with his hair so softly that it was starting to make his eyes droop heavily with sleep. His arms gave your body a tight squeeze as he groggily mumbled out an “I love you.”

“I love you more, Jae.” And you did.

I met you in the summer, but I wish I hadn’t.

You were my first love, but I wish you weren’t.

I wish I was over you, but it’s been a year and I’m still dwelling on that summer that was once ours.

It’s winter all year long now, and it’s killing me. I need to feel the warmth that is you in order to survive, and I hate it so much.

[tjkiahgb]

Episode Recap: 3.10, “The Quacks”

The episode picks up not long after the last episode ended, with Buffy asking her friends just what in the hell that Secret Society scheme was all about.

Her friends, who were super excited to help Walker out last week, waste no time throwing him under the bus now.

Jonah didn’t like the Secret Society stuff.

Cyrus didn’t like the robes.

Andi thinks it was kind of a sick way to ask someone to a dance.

Walker watch out for the bus oh my god he has airpods in he can’t hear us! oh my god!

Buffy reels off a list of the things she didn’t like about what happened: no to surprises, no to being put on the spot, and no to predictability. The candles were cool though.

Andi asks if Buffy still likes Walker and she gives a resounding ehh. Buffy explains that Walker made her shoes like how he made Andi shoes once, a long time ago. Andi thinks that is so wrong. Buffy says it’s his “signature move.” Andi and Buffy imagine Walker’s given shoes to every girl in town.

Am I going crazy here? He’s an artist? He makes artsy gifts for people? This would be like getting mad at Andi for making you a craft gift. It’s what she does! It’s not like Walker’s going around giving everyone cheap store-bought gifts like horrible little gnomes or neon green shoelaces. As long as he didn’t copy the exact mural he made with Andi that one time, what’s the problem? It’s a homemade gift. He had to spend time working on it. It’s still really nice. By this standard, would he have also not been allowed to make a drawing of Buffy as a gift? He’s already done that for Andi so that’s off the table. Find a new way to be creative, Walker. Make a necklace out of discarded soda can tabs or make a headband out of an old belt or something. I know art is your thing, but, sorry, you’ve played that card. It’s over now. Move on.

By the way, Andi and Buffy assume, with zero evidence, that Walker is going around town giving shoes to every girl like an unfixed cobbler in heat. Why?

They also assume all those girls would wear those shoes he gave them as gifts to public places like the school dance, despite not being in a relationship with him. I do feel like most people wouldn’t wear something an ex gave them while currently being in a relationship with another person. That’s so thoughtless. Wear shoes Walker gave you as a romantic gift while hanging out around your current boyfriend? Who in the world would behave like that? That would be crazy. A monument to poor decision making. I simply can’t imagine.

Aaaaaanyway, Cyrus assumes that’s it then. Buffy’s breaking up with Walker. And Buffy’s like, yeah, we’re done. I’m ghosting him. Cyrus tells her that’s not good enough. Talk to him. Break up with him in person.

Feels like Cyrus could save himself a lot of energy by recording a voice memo on his phone that says “YOU HAVE TO COMMUNICATE!” and just playing it for his friends over and over again.

Buffy thinks Walker knows, but Jonah assures her he doesn’t because: “He’s a guy.”

The pinpoint accuracy of those three words rattles Buffy to her core.

At the dance studio, Cyrus... dances?

...has a seizure?

...gets attacked by a swarm of gnats?

...reenacts the Ides of March?

...is possessed by the spirit of an evil marionette?

I’m just not sure.

Amber shows up and asks if he’s rehearsing being electrocuted.

Ah. Damn. That’s a good one.

Cyrus tells her he has to come up with an original dance for his choreography final and perform it. Wild that he’s already got a final exam. His dance class was like a month long. No wonder it seems like all he’s learned to do is flail his arms about. Amber volunteers to tutor him in the art of dance choreography.

Wait, does Amber know how to dance? I mean, I guess she did at the house party that one time. But can she really teach Cyrus to capture the raw, super strange energy of this performance?

I have my doubts.

Over at Bex’s, Bowie presents Andi and Bex with a surprise.

That’s right! A plank!

Andi wants to know who the Quinns are. Bowie thinks they all will be, after the marriage. Bex isn’t so sure. (Maybe hyphenate?) Bowie thinks it’s important, bonding them all together as a tribe, but Bex also thinks it’s important for everyone to choose their own identity. (Hyphenate?) Mack is part of who Bex is. For example, it’s on her bowling shirt. (Hyphenate. Stitch “-Quinn” right on to the end of that bad boy.)

Andi proposes they mash up their names but they realize that would make them the Quacks and abandon that idea so quickly they never even consider they could also become the Mann family, which is pretty sweet.

Back at the dance studio, Amber asks Cyrus to touch his toes. He can’t, but in fairness, he’s only been at this dance thing for like two weeks.

Amber tries to get him to do some moves but Cyrus says it’s too hard, so Amber hair-slaps some sense into him.

At the gym for the first Spikes game, Buffy watches the opposing team warmup and settles into some depressing fatalism.

Her teammate, who the end credits tell me was named Kaitlin, says the team is well-aware of that because Buffy’s been saying it all week. Kaitlin tries to get Buffy to say something that builds confidence in the team but Buffy’s not interested.

The team’s coach shows up.

Her name is Mrs. Deborah Mendenhall. She’s the guidance counselor. She’s also late to the game, knows nothing about basketball, has the gait and posture of an elderly woman, and is dressed like a flight attendant for some reason.

On the bright side, she brought orange slices.

So at least no one will get scurvy.

Kaitlin points out that the good news is they don’t have enough girls to even play. Buffy’s shocked no one else is coming and wants to know why. Kaitlin tells her it’s probably because Buffy’s spent the entire week telling everyone they were going to lose and be humiliated.

Look, say what you will about TJ as a team captain, but he only went after one player on his team. Buffy recruited this girls’ team, then spent several weeks alienating and insulting them and eventually got 2/3s of her team to quit before they even got to play their first game.

I hope she’s cleared her calendar for a ton of redemption arcs.

Buffy says the loss would have been really embarrassing, but now they’re going to have to forfeit, which she feels is way worse.

I disagree. You can forfeit with some dignity. Floundering around the court while the other team beats you down leaves barely any room for that.

It’s like this. Say you’re going to a party, but right before you get there, you get mud all over the back of your pants. Huge stain. Can’t get it out. Just go home, right? Forfeit the evening. You walk into that party and everyone’s going to think you had a horrible accident. You can desperately try to explain it’s mud, or you can try to own it in some weird way I can’t even imagine, but let’s be honest, all you’re going to get is a mean nickname and an unflattering reputation about town.

The lesson, kids, is if you have a chance to forfeit, forfeit.

Buffy decides, instead, she’s going to try calling the team.

Up in the stands, Andi asks Libby if she’s still planning on breaking up with Jonah. Libby is. She then points at Jonah and mimics him texting like a dope. Jonah, who is good at picking up subtle hints, wonders if these two are talking about him.

Buffy has no luck convincing anyone from the team to come get publicly humiliated. I say call TJ. Tell him to grab a wig and race down to the gym. Worth a shot.

Instead Buffy looks into the stands to try and find a replacement. She spots her artsy friend who’s shown almost zero athletic ability over the years...

...and thinks, yep, there’s the ticket.

So, Buffy drags Andi out of the bleachers and to the locker room to change as Jonah and Cyrus head up to sit next to Libby.

Cyrus greets Libby with sign language.

Oh, by the way, Cyrus also knows sign language now. Where did he find the time? I can barely commit to the 10 minute Duolingo Spanish lessons on my phone.

Jonah asks Cyrus to do some translating. He wants to know if Libby is mad at him. Libby wants him to learn sign language. Jonah apologizes through Cyrus, but Libby walks away.

Cyrus tells Jonah texting Libby used to be an okay way to communicate, but now the two have been going out for a while. Perfect opportunity for him to pull out his phone and play the “YOU HAVE TO COMMUNICATE!” message.

Also, a while? It’s not been like, a couple weeks? Cyrus’s dance class is over already, Buffy’s team is just now having their first game of the season, Jonah and Libby have been dating two years and I’ve lost complete understanding of the timeline again.

Jonah says he hasn’t learned because he’s afraid he’ll be bad at it.

Cyrus says it’ll be enough if he’s making the effort, but I just want to put this back on the table: forfeit the relationship. Take your mud-stained pants and go home.

At Bex’s, Bex approaches Bowie to do some compatibility testing of their relationship by asking some big questions and jotting down some answers to compare.

Bowie asks her about calzones. I’ll take this one, Bex. It’s pizza with excess bread. It’s hard to get a good cook on the stuffing. The toppings are rarely dispersed in a satisfying way. Not worth it.

Oh? Guess Bex and I are more compatible than I thought.

Bex wants to play seriously though, so they jump in. Bex asks if Bowie would ever want to have more kids, to which Bowie is like...

I mean, why not? If it all goes wrong, Celia’s still around, right?

Buffy brings her newest basketball recruit out to the gym so the game can finally begin. Things don’t start so hot.

Andi gets a pass and then takes off running with the ball like a halfback on a football team.

She forgot about dribbling. Bad sign. Dribbling is probably the second rule almost all people know about basketball behind knowing that the ball has to go into the basket to score points. God, I hope she remembers that at least.

Things don’t get much better from there. The public humiliation of the basketball team happens just as it was foretold.

Mrs. Mendenhall, meanwhile, spends time handing out snacks to the opposing team.

I’d normally be mad about this but she clearly has too many oranges. There’s only five people on Buffy’s team. Might as well not let them go to waste.

Andi gets the ball again and immediately turns it over.

Buffy was worried about being embarrassed, but honestly, Andi’s taking the brunt of it here. Maybe stop giving her the ball? Save her from herself.

Buffy mercifully calls a timeout to think things over.

She pulls the team into a huddle. They think she’s going to chew them out, but instead, she thanks them for showing up. She apologizes for being a bad captain and says she’s realized losing is not the worst thing ever. It’s great that those who showed up are there and that they’re in the game.

Or, basically, isn’t it nice to just be alive and doing stuff? Which is a decent message for life but a really low bar to hurdle for team sports. Congrats to us all on not dying.

They start playing again with a newfound, joyous outlook. I’m glad they’re happy with this, but their play is hurting me physically.

Kaitlin catches a pass and goes up for a lay-up from about a foot away from the basket and nearly misses not just the hoop, but the entire backboard.

It thuds off the side of the backboard and makes a noise that’s like nails on a chalkboard to me. This should be a wake up call for Kaitlin to get her vision checked. Or some kind of medical checkup. Something’s wrong.

Andi gets a pass, then, for some reason, spins, runs the wrong way, and hucks a wild shot up from half-court at the wrong basket.

It goes in as the game ends. Everyone celebrates for different reasons. I’m light headed.

Are we really sure that wasn’t worse than just leaving early? Are we really going with the lesson here of: “Kids, it doesn’t matter how terrible you do, as long as you do.” I hope no one growing up to be a doctor or pilot feels that way. Please, do those jobs well or don’t do them at all. No one’s gonna cheer you if you put the wrong organ inside your surgery patient or get lost and crash land into the ocean.

At Bex’s, Bex and Bowie review their answers and find themselves to be really compatible.

I think the biggest sign of their compatibility was that neither of them thought to ask the other any of these big, important life questions before agreeing to get married.

Lack of forethought and an improvisational approach to life problems suits them well, I guess.

Jonah meets Libby outside the school. He asks her to teach him sign language in sign language.

If he really wants to learn, he should hunt down the 5th grade teacher who made everyone else so fluent.

Libby agrees to. She tells Jonah she likes him.

Jonah says he likes her, 2. They seem to have reached a good level of understanding in their relationship. Amazing what COMMUNICATION! can do.

At Cyrus’s dance class, Cyrus prepares to deliver his final. Amber psyches him up, he heads out onto the floor, and...

Guys. It’s no good.

I mean, he’s doing this march walk thing.

And this scuba move like he’s dancing at a party from some 1960s beach movie.

And the robot.

His big finale is the sprinkler, of all things...

...followed by the Glee throw-your-fist-up-and-look-to-the-sky move.

I just don’t see how Cyrus passes this.

How do you watch that as a dance teacher and not go, “That was the laziest collection of basic, stock dance moves I’ve ever seen. Did you learn nothing? Did you even practice?”

Is this all another lesson about just showing up and doing a terrible job and being happy with that? Again, it’s good to have a positive attitude, but that’s not going to save your GPA.

At Bex’s, Bowie sits Andi and Bex down for a new surprise.

That’s right. Another plank!

Bowie probably should’ve learned to get everyone on board with his decision first before committing to a plank. That “The Quinns” plank is basically expensive firewood at this point.

But Bowie wins Andi and Bex over with this one.

And the news that he intends to take the Mack last name. It really was a foregone conclusion. Doesn’t he know what show he’s on? It’s called Andi Mack, not Andi Quinn. There’s already all tons of merchandise. What are you going to do, render that stuff worthless? Pfft. Good luck going up against the Disney Corporation’s profits, bud.

Bex wants to know if he’s sure he wants to be a Mack, and deal with all of the things that come with being a Mack. But Bowie’s in.

So, the Quinn names dies with Cookie. Long live the Quinns.

At school, Buffy takes out her phone and makes a call. The person on the other end of the line picks up. Buffy’s like, hey, last time I saw you, I don’t think I handled things very well and can we please meet up to talk?

And who’s on the other end of the call?

This guy!

Oh, who is this guy again? God, it’s on the tip of my tongue. It was a weird name. The kind of name they stopped giving babies in the 1950s.

I wanna say Harry? Ronny? Ralph? Was it Ralph? I feel like there was a Y in there.

Let’s just call him Not Walker for now until I can dig through the Andi Mack wiki for answers.

[darks-ink]

Disinterred CH.5

Chapter 5: I’m Still Here, But Not Completely

The text, a rare single text considering it was send by Jazz, was simple and to the point. ‘mom and dad think that a ghost killed danny and replaced him, wtf?’ God, what a mess. How did he always get himself into trouble like this, without even trying?

(the full summary, previous chapters, author notes, content warning, and the links to AO3 and FFnet can be found here)

Several hours later found Danny floating above Sam and Tucker as they zipped through Amity Park on their scooters. The patrol had been rather quiet so far, with few ghostly disturbances. The overall quiet, combined with the cathartic effect of flying and the presence of his friends, had settled Danny’s emotional level back to normal.

Just as he considered diving down towards his friends to startle them, Danny felt his phone buzz in a pocket of his jumpsuit. Pulling it out, he saw that Jazz had texted him. She must’ve returned home and heard about the events of earlier that day.

He stopped, mid-air, to read the message Jazz had send him. From the corners of his eyes he saw that Sam and Tucker had stopped as well. They had probably seen him, and had decided to wait for him to explain.

The text, a rare single text considering that it was send by Jazz, was simple and to the point. ‘mom and dad think that a ghost killed danny and replaced him, wtf?’

Danny couldn’t stop the snort that came through, and barely stifled the bitter laughter that followed it. God, what a mess. How did he always get himself into trouble like this, without even trying? The universe must really hate him.

He briefly considered the possibility that there was a ghost controlling this sort of stuff out there, similar to Clockwork, but dismissed the thought almost as soon as it came up. If there was a ghost of fate, then it most likely is Clockwork.

He shook his head to clear the thoughts, deciding that he should probably just go and talk with Jazz in person instead of trying to explain the situation via the phone. He sunk lower to the ground so he could talk with Sam and Tucker more easily, white boots soundlessly hitting the asphalt of the street.

“Apparently Jazz just got home, and has been informed by my parents that a ghost killed and replaced me. So I think I’m gonna fly over real quick so we can talk this entire thing through, preferably before she gets all overprotective older sister on me.”

“Dude, I’m pretty sure it’s already too late for that.”

Elbowing Tucker in the ribs, Sam added. “But you should go anyway. We’ll finish up patrol for you.”

Danny nodded. “Alright, thanks. I’ll meet you back at Tucker’s place, okay?”

The other two acknowledged him before turning around and continuing down the street. Danny quickly texted Jazz (‘omw’) before launching himself back into the air, shooting off towards FentonWorks.

Not much later, Danny hung (invisibly) outside of Jazz’ window. Hesitantly, he knocked. Jazz looked up from whatever she was working on, glanced in his general direction, and then nodded.

Permission to enter thus granted, Danny quickly phased through the window, turning himself visible again once he was inside. He opened his mouth to explain, well, everything, but Jazz was faster.

“So, what on Earth is this about?” she snapped at him.

He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “Well! When the accident happened and I became half-ghost, I may or may not have left behind my old, fully-human body. And since we were kind of, you know, panicking, we decided to bury it in the forest so no one would ever find out what happened.”

Jazz stared at him, an incredulous expression on her face. Apparently he had stunned her to the point of speechlessness. He didn’t even know it was possible to turn Jazz speechless. Somehow it didn’t quite feel like the achievement it should have been.

Apparently Jazz had finally found her voice again, since she chided him. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were past lying to each other, Danny.”

He hunched up, blushing in embarrassment. “We are! I just… I just kind of forgot?” he muttered the last few words, guilt lacing his voice.

“Oh my God, please tell me you’re joking.” Her tone was a rather odd combination of appalled and bewildered.

Danny remained quiet. He considered complaining that he wouldn’t joke about a situation this serious, but they both knew that he always cracked jokes in situations where he shouldn’t. It was like, his number one coping mechanism. The less suitable the situation, the more he joked.

Jazz stared him in the eye, then sighed. Apparently she had determined that despite his normal behavior, he was not, in fact, joking.

“Danny, how on Earth did you forget about the fact that you buried your own corpse in the woods?”

He shrugged, somewhat uncertainly. “Look, the Accident was a really confusing time, and then I had to learn to control my ghost powers, and then ghosts started attacking and we just kind of forgot, okay? Now will you please help me explain this to mom and dad so they’ll stop shooting at me?”

Jazz looked at him with an expression he couldn’t read, but she put her hand on his shoulder and pulled him into a hug. She didn’t even flinch at how cold his ghost form was.

“Of course, little brother. We’ll figure this out, okay?”

He hummed, wrapping his own arms around Jazz. They remained like that for some time, and Danny felt the last of his dread and panic melt away. Jazz was here, Jazz would help him. Everything was going to be okay.

The assurances no longer felt hollow, like they had before.

Finally releasing him, Jazz put her hands on her hips, face settling on a determined expression. “So, first things first. How much are you going to tell them?”

“Uh, everything, I guess.” He shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek. “Well, except for the Phantom part, they don’t need more encouragement to shoot at me.”

“You’re not going to tell them about Phantom? Are you sure?” She set a scrutinizing gaze on him, and he pointedly ignored her by turning away.

“Jazz…” he sighed, deflating. He shook his head, then turned back to look at her again. “If this goes well I’ll tell them, okay?”

She nodded, before cutting back to the original subject. “Alright, so you’re going to tell them that you got into an accident with the Portal, and that you instantly became a ghost, and that you freaked out and decided to bury your body and pretend nothing happened. Does that sound about right?”

“Yeah, I guess so. You think that that’ll be enough?”

She offered him a smile, and he felt himself calm down even further. “Of course it will be enough. The only reason they freaked out is because they care about you.”

Jazz looked him over for a moment longer before her eyes softened again. “Do you have somewhere to stay for tonight?”

“Uh, yeah, Sam and I are sleeping over at Tucker’s place.” Knowing what she was about to ask, he elaborated. “I’ve had dinner at his place too. Don’t worry Jazz, you’re not the only one making sure that I take care of myself.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, but ignored the jab. “Good, good. Come by tomorrow after breakfast and we’ll talk this through with mom and dad.”

He groaned, grimacing. He knew that he had to talk with his parents. That was the whole point of talking with Jazz. That didn’t make the thought of coming over and facing his parents any more appealing.

Seeing his hesitation, Jazz spoke again, with a soothing but somewhat stern tone. “Danny, don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine, I promise. Now go and get some sleep, because you need it.”

He eyed her for a moment. Sighing, he rubbed in his eyes with his fingers. “Yeah, alright. Thanks, Jazz.”

“That’s what I’m here for, little brother. Now go, shoo.” She made some shooing motions with her hands as she said it. Danny grinned at her before tugging on his invisibility, disappearing from sight.

Jazz watched him leave, before shaking her head, a fond smile on her face.

The next day, not long after when he would normally have eaten breakfast with his family, Danny found himself hesitating on the steps of his house.

Had this been an ordinary Saturday, he would have been in the kitchen now, breakfast just finished but everyone still lingering around. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t a regular Saturday. Hell, Danny didn’t know if he would ever have a regular Saturday with his family again.

But no matter how much he wanted to leave, he couldn’t. No matter how badly he wanted to put off this confrontation, Jazz was waiting for him. And no matter how much bad everything got, he knew Jazz would come through for him.

He clung onto that thought, took a deep, fortifying breath, and entered the house.

Quiet chattering came from the kitchen, and Danny made his way over. He watched them for a moment from the doorway. They were all sitting at the table, the remnants of breakfast put away. It was a rare occasion, since there weren’t even any inventions of his parents’ around.

He didn’t get long to observe before his dad spotted him, however. The man grinned widely at him, and Danny felt his hopes lift. Maybe his parents had already gotten over him being a ghost?

“Danny-boy!” Jack boomed, but suddenly his face soured, and Danny’s hopes were crushed again. Apparently his ever-brilliant dad just forgot about their last interaction. His mother’s face also fell, and Danny almost winced at their expressions.

Jazz, however, shot him a warm smile, and grabbed their parents before they could pull out any of their weapons. That didn’t stop them from attacking with their words, however.

“What are you doing here, ghost?” Maddie hissed. “Haven’t you caused us enough pain yet?”

This time Danny actually winced, and Jazz glared at their mother.

“Mom!” she chastised. “I asked Danny to come over, not that it should have been necessary, since he lives here.”

“Jazz, honey,” their mother tried to soothe her. “That’s not your brother. That’s some foul ghost playing a sick game of pretend.”

“No, you listen to me!” Jazz continued to glare, so angry it was almost tangible. “Danny has been a ghost for two years, but he never told you. And this is exactly why! And despite knowing that this is how you would react, he still came over to tell you what happened! And you won’t even let him!”

It remained silent for a few infinitely long minutes. Both of their parents were visibly working through this new information, processing it- and everything it meant.

“Jazz, you knew? How- How long have you known?” Danny had never heard his dad so quiet, and he hated it. He hated everything about this conversation. He could barely stop himself from turning invisible, his emotions churning and stormy. He forced himself to stay focused on the conversation, however.

“I’ve known pretty much from the start, but he told me about a year ago. And yes, I know the entire story.” Jazz looked over at Danny, clearly hoping that he would take over to tell the story.

But Danny could barely pay attention to the conversation, let alone play an actual part in said conversation. Seeing this, Jazz picked up the slack again.

“Do you remember when he had an accident in the lab, in freshman year?”

Their parents glanced at each other, sharing a brief but silent conversation before relaxing a little. “Was that it? Was it- Was it one of our inventions that- that killed our son?”

Danny could hear how close his mom was to tears, and he sighed, inadvertently drawing the attention back to himself. He uncertainly rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, kinda. It was the Portal. I uh, may or may not have turned it on while I was inside.” He shrugged at them, smiling sheepishly. “You put the ‘on’ button on the inside, that’s why it didn’t work.”

“Sufferin’ spooks,” Jack swore quietly, eyes locked on Danny.

“But if it was the Portal, then how did your,” her breath caught for a second, “your body end up in the woods?”

“I- We panicked, okay?” He wrung his hands uncertainly as he spoke. “We didn’t know what to do and we didn’t know what happened and we were all really freaked out so we decided to just bury my body in the woods and pretend it never happened.”

“Oh sweetie,” Maddie mumbled, standing up from her chair and walking over to Danny. She touched his face, gently, before pulling him against herself, hugging him. “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”

Danny stiffened momentarily, before the events sunk in and he wrapped his arms around his mom. “It’s- It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” Before he could say more, however, a second pair of arms wrapped around the two of them.

“Oh Danny-boy,” his father muttered, and Danny was shocked to see tears forming in his dad’s eyes. “I- We-” The man murmured uncertainly, tripping over his own words.

“No, no, don’t blame yourselves.” Danny pulled himself partially out of the hug so he could look his parents in the eyes. “I don’t blame you, okay? Not for anything. None of it is your fault. Not the accident, not the- the events yesterday. None of it. Okay?”

His parents nodded at him, uncertainly, and he nodded back. Finally they broke apart again, and as they smiled at him, Danny found that he couldn’t keep the truth to himself any longer.

“Actually,” he started, before hesitating. He anxiously licked his lips, and glanced over to see Jazz nodding her approval. Thus steeling his resolve, he cleared his throat and started again. “Actually, there’s something else that I need to tell you. Uh, promise you won’t freak out?”

“Oh sweetie, of course. You can tell us anything.” His mom laid her hand on his shoulder, her smile a little more uncertain but still kind.

He nodded, smiling back, but carefully shook off her hand and stepped away. Then he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, focusing on the feeling of ectoplasm coursing throughout him. He braced himself, then called on his ghostly core, letting its power wash over him. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes again,  looking away from his parents.

“I’m, uh. I’m Danny Phantom too. This,” he made a vague hand motion towards himself, “is what I actually look like as a ghost.”

Suddenly he was drowning in warmth again. His father hugged him, ruffling a hand through his hair. “Look at my son the ghost hunter! I knew you would follow my footsteps!”

Danny grinned at his dad. “Yeah, I guess I had some good role models.” Seeing his dads uncertain expression, he winked theatrically.

“Well, I still think that Phantom has done some… questionable things,” Maddie trailed off, apprehensively. “But… knowing you as I do, I’m guessing that you can explain all of that?”

“He can, trust me.” Jazz cut in, not wanting to ruin to moment for Danny by having him recall those events. “He has told me everything, about all of that and more.”

Maddie nodded, and once more smiled warmly at her daughter, and then at her son as well. “Then I must say that I’m proud of my ghost-hunting son as well. My own little superhero, huh?”

She re-joined the hug as well, and Jack grabbed Jazz and pulled her in as well. Danny melted away in the familial love, feeling far happier than he had in a long time.

But he knew that the same didn’t go for his parents. They thought that they had killed him, for fuck’s sake! He said he didn’t blame them, and he didn’t, but it wasn’t enough. The guilt would be eating them alive. That was the main reason why he hadn’t told them before. After the Reality Gauntlet thing, he knew that they would accept him. It was their reaction to themselves he was most afraid of. As long as they thought that they had killed him, they would feel guilty about it.

So what if they knew that they hadn’t killed him? After all, he wasn’t actually dead, was he? So maybe- maybe if he told them, they would be happy too?

And surely if they accepted him as a full ghost, they would accept him as a half-ghost too? It was weird, yes, but they were his parents. They had said it themselves, in that alternate reality. It didn’t matter if he was a ghost, or a human, or a little of both.

He took in the moment a little longer, letting the warmth soak into him. Then he phased through the arms holding him in place, grimacing at the startled expressions of his family. He released his hold on his ghost form, allowing the warmth of his human body to roll over him again. It was little compared to the familial warmth he had just given up, but it was better than nothing.

“I-” He hesitated, cleared his throat again. “There’s something more. Something else I need to mention as well.”

Jazz quirked a questioning eyebrow at him, before she realized what he was going for. She also untangled herself from the group hug, walked over to Danny, and wrapped a supportive arm around his shoulders. He looked at her, uncertainly, but she nodded her approval.

“I’m not- I’m only half ghost.”

Silence lingered for a few, uncomfortable seconds. The expressions on the faces of his parents had shifted, an array of emotions that he couldn’t decipher playing on their faces.

He bit his lip, glancing at Jazz for strength. Then he took another deep breath, looking his parents in the eyes.

“I’m not actually dead. I’m only half ghost. I, uh. I don’t know the exact science behind it and stuff. But that’s why I can switch.”

“Sweetie,” his mom said, softly. “There are all kinds of ghosts who can take on a more human appearance. You don’t have to lie, to yourself or to us, okay?”

“But it’s- it’s different! The ghosts know it too! They call me a halfa, a human-ghost hybrid.” He groaned, mussing up his hair with his hands. He had to convince them, somehow. But how?

Suddenly an idea struck him, and he strode towards his parents. He pulled off his moms glove, and placed her bare fingers against his neck.

“Danny, what-”

“Feel it. Feel my heartbeat. Ghosts can’t replicate that, can they?”

She opened her mouth, about to protest, but suddenly stilled. Her eyes grew wide. She glanced at Jack, uncertainly, and then back at Danny.

“How?”

He shrugged, offering a sheepish smile. “Like I said, I don’t really know how it works. Running theory is that it has something to do with the supercharged ectoplasm in the Portal.”

Frowning, Jack inserted himself into the conversation. “So why not tell us from the start? Why make us think you were a ghost?”

Danny shrugged again. “It’s… hard to explain. Mostly, I don’t tell anyone because it’s kind of hard to believe?” He grimaced. “And right after the accident, I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t get my powers to work right so I couldn’t prove that I was telling the truth.”

His mom finally pulled her fingers away from Danny’s neck, slowly putting the glove back on. She frowned as well. “But then what about the body?”

“Well, I’m not a scientist, obviously. And the only other halfa I know of… Well, I’m not really on speaking terms with him, so I couldn’t ask him either.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But what I- What we think happened is that my DNA was altered by the ectoplasm. But you can’t just infuse a body with ectoplasm, so a new one had to be formed. Or something like that.”

“Well, son, how about this,” Jack said, pulling out a chair and gesturing for Danny to sit down. “Why don’t you tell us exactly what happened, and then we’ll figure all of this out together. As a family.”

Danny nodded, smiling, and sat down.

“Alright, so it all started two years ago, in August...”

[ardentmuse]

Why You Fight - Kingsman

Primary reasons I imagine you’d fight in your relationships with the Kingsman. Sorry for the double-whammy of sad stuff today. gifs via google, credit to creators. 

Warning: General angst all around (especially in Harry’s), talk of sex in Tequila’s

Masterlist

Merlin - Jealousy

To be fair, Merlin and you rarely “fight.” Instead, Hamish just declares that he “doesn’t want to talk about it” and broods. Hard. He broods for hours in his office tinkering, usually with no real goal in mind other than to give him an excuse to create space from you and calm down.

He knows it is stupid. He knows you love him. But he also knows how smitten he was with you almost instantly, how beautiful and intelligent you are, but most importantly how much younger than him you are, able to catch the attention of any more suitable partner who might come along.

You’ve never given him reason to doubt. Every time someone obviously flirts with you, you simply say you are not interested and come find him wherever he is. But men can be persistent, scummy little things, he knows. Sometimes they do not respect you enough to take your ‘no’ seriously, forcing Merlin to step in, much to your dismay. But more often than not the issues arise when you don’t even realize that someone has their sights on you. When Merlin points it out, you brush it off as them “just being nice,” and that is when Merlin loses it. He’ll raise his voice, telling you that you need to stick up for yourself better and stop being so doe-eyed about the world. You don’t see what he sees and sometimes he feels like you don’t even care, though he knows he is just insecure about not being everything you deserve. When you’d try to get him to explain his feelings more, he’d ask you for space to think and make for his office.

After several hours alone, he’d emerge and apologize for his outburst by helping you. You’d know he was ready to talk when you’d receive a text a few hours later saying, “I’m making dinner. What would you like, love?” or “I scheduled the hair appointment you’ve been talking about for Tuesday at 4pm.” Then, late in bed that night, you talk for real, make up, and make love, reassuring Hamish that you aren’t going anywhere.

Harry - Work

Harry wasn’t used to having to consider someone else’s needs. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. It was just still a foreign idea to him and it took mental work to remember that he couldn’t just go whenever work called without informing you.

A few times early on in your relationship, you would find yourself alone for an event he promised to take you to or for your weekly nights in with a classic movie and take out. You’d call him to get his ETA, only to discover he was on a boat in Yokohama or in the mountains outside Davos or on an airplane heading to the States. But after every time, he’d come to your home, place flowers on your nightstand, and crawl into bed with you. He’d spoon you, begging your forgiveness between soft kisses of your neck and shoulders until you’d turn to him and kiss him in earnest.

It all came to a head when you discovered Harry downstairs in the wee hours of the morning walking out the door, right before your parents were supposed to arrive to meet him. You lost it, told him that if his work was more important than you then he might as well not return. He tried to reason with you and explain how important this mission was, how’d he be back before dinner, but you wouldn’t hear it. If he thought leaving without a word of warning was acceptable, he clearly didn’t see you as a priority. You kicked him out into the night.

You were making dinner, trying to figure out what to tell your parents, when the doorbell rang. Harry stood outside, dressed for dinner, a bottle of wine and flowers in hand. You went to shut the door in his face when he reached out to you. “I didn’t go” he said, “I thought about it. I made it all the way to the tailor shop before I realized I had just lost the best thing in my life because I was too scared to let loving you change me. But I want to change. I need to change. There is too much good here to throw it away because I’m stubborn. Please? Just one more chance and if I screw this up, you’ll never hear from me again.”

You let him back into your house and into your heart, where he has been ever since.

Eggsy - Family

Dean. God, Dean. He was literally the worst man either you or Eggsy could imagine. On that, you agreed. What you didn’t agree with was Eggsy brawling a grown man in the middle of a crowded pub. Eggsy was a Kingsman now. He had resources at his disposal to protect his mother and sister other than his fists. But this was personal for Eggsy, you knew, and so while you fought about it initially, you quickly moved on to help Eggsy heal and to take care of Daisy, whom you loved endlessly.

But then there is your family. Eggsy is so afraid of them, even though you’d done nothing to give him reason to think they might not like him. His family has been so dysfunctional since Dean came into the picture, that he has a hard time remembering what a reasonable family looked like. So he is constantly going overboard trying to impress your relatives: hostess gifts every visit, intense research on everyone’s careers and interests, telling lies about himself to fit in better. That last one is the one that really makes you mad. Why can’t he just accept that your family just wants you to be happy and that he’s already won them over by being your source of joy? All his strategies only make it worse.

You get particularly angry when you learn that Eggsy has been spending time with your parents without you. Having you there giving him side-eye usually helps to reign in his antics, so the idea of him alone with them scares you. But all that is put aside when he asks you to marry him, your parents having helped to coordinate the whole thing.

Tequila - Sex

Your relationship with Tequila has always been quite physical. He’s an affectionate man, and was so even before you became exclusive. But having a sexual relationship with him is an entirely different thing.

At first, the constant need for each other was exciting. You loved feeling so wanted and he loved how much you wanted him in return. And don’t get me wrong, the sex is still mind-blowing. But it is just ALL THE TIME. It feels like you are constantly in the middle of a single years-long sexual encounter. You’d wake up to light caresses that turned into something heated. He’d take care of you, pop up from between your legs, ask what you wanted for breakfast, and leave the room like nothing happened. Then, at the breakfast table, he’d want to finish what was started in the bedroom. It was exhausting.

You weren’t an on-off switch. You needed some time and dedication. Thankfully, when you communicate this, Tequila is more than willing to set aside the time you need to fully enjoy yourself, to build up and come down from your high in an enjoyable way. It just takes more reminders than you would like.

Thank goodness you both like cuddling so much because if Tequila gets too handsy and you aren’t into it, he’s always okay with just holding you while you watch a movie or falling asleep wrapped in each other. He just wants to be close to you, whatever form that may take. And you can’t really fault him for that.

Whiskey - The Past

You will never be able to replace his lost love. You know that. And you’d never want to. Everything Whiskey went through in his life brought him to you.

But sometimes he’ll say things, just little things offhandedly, that make you realize there is a subtle comparison going on in his brain. Even if he isn’t aware of it, he is imagining how his life might be different if you were a woman with a different face holding a child instead of a pistol.

And that hurts endlessly. It makes you feel like you are still second-best, still just a consolation prize since he isn’t able to have what he actually wants. When he says something that brings you down, like how she used to make the best pies or how her baby bump was much rounder than yours, you go off by yourself to some corner of the house to cry.

Whiskey would realize what he did the moment he did it. He was very conscious of how his past impacted his relationship with you.  He couldn’t stop his brain from wondering how his life might have been different, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love the way his life is now. He will shower you with love and gifts as a means of seeking your forgiveness, to prove how intimately he knew you, how much he needed you. And he does need you, desperately. And he holds you through the night to remind himself that anything keeping him from loving you fully is not worth his mental energy. 

All tags: @fangirlandnerd​​, @aerdnandreaa​​, @thisisbullshytt​ 

[ladyteacups]

Dissident

Gif Not Mine

Requested by @hemmosauce

Summary: Basically age gap between Tony’s intern and Thor

A/N: Age gaps make me kinda uncomfortable unless they’re in their 20′s soo..... Anyway I wanted to focus on both relationships because.. I just wanted to. So don’t expect this to be all Thor or all Tony.

Warnings: Age gap, Implied smut, cursing, 18+ please.

Y/N was bored. She loved science and all but Bruce was no fun to play with. Interning for Tony meant getting handed off to Bruce when he was too busy. He thought she wouldn’t notice but she is after all a genius.  She finished college at 19 and was offered a job at just about anywhere she could want to go, but here she was, watching Dr. Banner stare at the meniscus and jot down notes. She definitely got some really good tips and learned new things from both men, but she knew she could be doing more.

“I’m gonna go get some coffee, you want any?” She knew he didn’t. This is what she did to get out of anything. Bruce was a little easier to get around. He knew she was already a science wiz, and he was running out of things to teach her, so he rarely noticed that she would never come back. Maybe it was rude but she’s still in her youth, needing relief from the day-to-day activities of… well another school. Bruce shook his head so she left.

She came to Tony to learn about arc reactor technology, and once she consumed everything she could, he offered for her to stay. He was like a father to her now. Her own had left when she was three, so she attached herself to Tony after he took her in.

She remembers meeting him so clearly. He was lecturing at her school and once he saw her, made it clear that he was younger than her when he went to school there. She scoffed at him and had established that she had a gap year between high school and college. “What did you do with that gap year,” he had asked. He crossed his arms and she smirked doing the same. “Toured the world, learned a language, and wrote a book. You may know it.” She held up her text book and pointed to the author’s name. “It is used in schools all over.” Tony smiled fondly at her. “Just one language?”

She smiled at the memory and pushed open the door to the kitchen, and stopped in her tracks. A mischievous smile broke out across her face. “Hello Thor,” she touched his arm, “still trying to figure out the dish washer?”

She felt him stiffen beneath her hand. “Lady Y/N.” He coughed awkwardly and stepped away from her. “Yes I am. It does not start.”

She lifted her hand and pushed the start button, and looked up at him through her lashes. “Just push the start button Thor.”

He gulped, “yes of course. The start button.” She saw his eyes flicker from her chest to her lips, eyes, then to something behind her. “I should go.” He left without another word, leaving her to stand there pouting.

“You know he’s too old for you right?”

She wanted to bang her head on the counter. Of course it’s him.

“I’m 21 Tony. You can’t tell me what to do.” She didn’t even turn around, just got a cup and some juice, waiting on some kind of reply.

“He’s still too old.” What a comeback, she thought. “You know you’re not actually my dad right?”

“I might as well be.” He squared his shoulders and clenched his jaw. “Alright well, dad, I’m gonna go for a run.” She paused in the doorway. “Or is that not ok?”

“Actually you were supposed to be with Bruce.”

She only shook her head and went to change.

Deep down Thor knew it was fucked up, like royally fucked up, to be interested in someone so much younger than him. Even if he didn’t quite age the same as the mortals here. Still he felt dirty every time he couldn’t help stealing glances at her behind, or thinking of her pink lips wrapped around him like a lollipop. Gods, he needed a cold shower.

Y/N was off-limits, Thor knew that. Tony had made it beyond clear that no one was to go near her with ill intentions. “She’s my prodigy, so hand’s off!” Thor rolled his eyes as did everybody but Tony himself.

It wasn’t always so difficult for him to ignore her. She had a shy tendency and kept mostly to herself. That is until she caught him checking her out. She decided right then that seeing Thor blush was her new favorite sight. She had made it her mission to make him blush as much as possible. Thor would curse himself for that every time he saw her.

No more shyness. She would show up in a low cut top or a short skirt and send him promiscuous winks when he eyed her. On days when she would stay at the tower she liked to shower and wonder around in only a large sleep shirt and panties, hoping to catch him. When she did catch him she’d always give him a hug by wrapping her arms around his neck and letting the shirt rise just enough to get him going.

Thor hadn’t quite caught on yet that she was teasing him. Testing him to see how long he could hold out before he cracked. Everyone else, knew exactly what was going on. Hell, Romanoff had even given her pointers and tips. Each Avenger would just smile and shake their heads at the interactions Y/N would have with Thor. None of them really cared if she was with Thor, they all understood that she was an adult and let her be.

Thor listened to Tony and stayed away from her anyway. “She’s too young for you. Maybe in space that’s ok, but here on Earth, everybody will hate you.”

Thor ran his hands down his face. He needed to sweat this out before he said screw it and went to find her.

He hadn’t even noticed her when he walked in. The speakers placed subtly around the room played a strange song he couldn’t recognize but he didn’t care. His mind was elsewhere and that was the problem.

Y/N smiled when she saw Thor enter the gym and took off her loose fitting shirt. Turn around, she mentally willed him. She instantly changed her mind when he jumped up and started on pull-ups. His back flexed with each movement and she fell into a trance watching the muscles work. She slowed herself down to a light jog. Wow he looks good in those sweats.

When he finished his reps Thor dropped down and wiped his face on a towel. That’s when he finally noticed her. His mouth fell open at the sight of her, covered with a light sheen of sweat, face flushed, tits bouncing. He felt his cock twitch at the sight. What he wouldn’t give for that. This woman really was amazing. A genius, funny, kind, and sexy as hell. He closed his eyes, trying to get ahold of himself.

Y/N watched as he leaned back on the bench press and continued his routine. Well that didn’t work. She thought for a moment before she stopped her run and eyed him. His sweatpants had ridden up on his hips, and his hair was tied back loosely. Call her crazy but Y/N loved him in these moments the most. The times when he didn’t have a care in the world, his guard down, being shirtless was just a bonus. She could see the concentration on his face, wrinkling his brow. She giggled. “So serious.”

He didn’t even falter. He replaced the weight and sat up. “Have you been watching me the whole time?”

“Would it please you if I said yes?” Y/N smirked. She took a few steps toward him and stopped about two yards away. She sat down on whatever machine this was and just stared back at him. “Come here to blow off some steam or did you know I was down here?”

Thor looked away from her. “Steam. How about you, young maiden?”

Y/N smiled a wide and amused smile. “I knew you’d be down here.”

It was a lie. Of course she couldn’t have known Thor would be here. She was pleasantly surprised when he was though. Lord knew she wasn’t above teasing him.

He didn’t even reply. The words stuck in his throat and all that went through his head was Tony screaming that everyone would hate him. His eyes scanned her body and his resolve started to crumble.

“I think you’re very handsome Thor.” She rose from her spot and went to stand in front of him. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

“Gods yes,” he said without removing his gaze from her shirtless torso.

“You can touch me if you want to.” He looked up quickly to meet her eyes, slowly placing his hands on her hips. He shouldn’t be doing this. Tony said no.

“You’re Tony’s daughter, I… I can’t.” He shook his head and looked down at his lap.

Y/N thought she misheard him at first. Her confidence lapsed for just a moment while she collected her thoughts.

“Tony’s daughter? Thor, I’m not Tony’s daughter. I’m his intern.”

Thor looked awkward sitting there. “What’s the difference? He called you his heir.”

She ignored the last part. “He’s my teacher, not my dad! Sure he acts like it sometimes and he’s the closest I have to one right now, but he doesn’t control me.”

Thor nodded slowly. “So if I were to ignore his wishes to stay away from you, we wouldn’t be in trouble?”

Y/N laughed. “He certainly be annoyed but no, he can’t do anything.”

Thor gripped her by the thighs and lifted her up. “Right then. What do you say we enjoy not staying away from each other than?”

Y/N giggled, that was easier than she thought. “Let’s.”

Y/N woke up the next morning with no idea where she was. A brief look around and she smiled to herself. That’s right, she’s with Thor. She looked over at the sleeping god. His back bathed in sunlight and expression soft. He certainly didn’t look like the god of thunder right now. He just looked like a man, sleeping after a blissful night of play.

She laid a hand of his back, rubbing small circles. “Good morning maiden. Sleep well?”

“Best sleep ever.”

He smiled, eyes still closed. “How about we stay right here? We don’t have to leave ever.”

Y/N laughed. “Of course we do. We are both needed.”

“I won’t be for much longer. Everybody is going to hate me for this.” He rolled over onto his back and ran his hands down his face.

Y/N was taken aback. “Why would everyone hate you?”

“For bedding you,” he answered quickly.

“Thor I don’t understand.”

“Tony Stark explained it to me. It is frowned upon for an elder gentleman to court a young woman. He said it was not your customs and I would be exiled… again.”

Y/N threw her head back against the pillows. “That idiot. Thor I am way past the legal age. It’s perfectly fine. Nobody will hate you.”

He looked confused. “But Tony-“

“Yes I know. Tony was just being an ass.” She jumped up and searched for her clothes. She really needed to find him and give him a piece of her mind.

“Tony what the fuck?” Y/N was pissed. It was written all over her face. Her arms were crossed and her fingers tapping against her elbow.

Tony jumped back. His intern had never looked at him like that and he didn’t like it at all. “Y/N? What happened?”

“You cannot make decisions for me Tony, how many times have I told you? Thor is a nice man and I like him. You had no right to interfere.”

Ah, now he understood. “I told you before, he’s too old for you.”

“He’s a god, he’s too old for anybody!” She was screaming now. Her anger shook him to his bones but he was stubborn.

“Exactly.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “It was completely out of line. You are not my father Tony and you don’t own me.”

“I might as well be, I know what’s best for you.”

“You don’t even know what’s best for yourself.” Her eyes were wild and hair still messed up from the night before.

Tony let her words sink in and she sighed. Maybe that was a bit too much. She felt instant regret as she stared into his eyes, sadness written in pupils.

They sat in silence for a moment, calming down before either one of them spoke.

“Why did you do that Tony?” He could hear the insecurity in her voice. Did this really affect her like that? He scratched his beard.

“He doesn’t stay on Earth for long. Thor leaves, and when he leaves here it would mean he leaves you. You’re important to me. I don’t have any children to give the company to. I just have you.”

Y/N couldn’t look at him. She had too much running through her head. She’d lose her nerve if she saw the look on his face. “You’re like a daughter to me. You’re a genius. There’s no one I would rather have as my successor. What if he takes you with him next time he leaves?”

Y/N couldn’t breathe. She knew Tony thought highly of her but this was new. His successor? That was everything she could ever want. The look on his face was so candid she almost flinched, and the pout was so intimate and scared.

She smiled up at him reassuringly. “I understand, I guess, but I have my own life. He won’t take me from you. I’ll always come back.” He nodded slightly, and opened his arms up. Tony smiled when she laughed and encased him in a hug. “I still need to have a talk with him.”

She giggled. “I love you too dad.”

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